#and then they had the fucking audacity to get upset when i cut ties after they repeatedly crossed all of my boundaries??

[undeadorion]

Conversations recently have reminded just how far I've come. Not just within myself but in my choice of friends. That I'm no longer so scared of being alone or being disliked that I'm strong enough to not immediately accept anyone who wants to talk to me as a friend. That I can protect myself against those who would do me harm.

It allows me the time and energy to actually enjoy the good people in my life. Because the bad would demand so much of my time and attention I had nothing left for the good ones. But the good ones make it easy to share my time with them all because I know I can just be myself around them. I just want to gather you up in my arms and give you a big hug.

I've been looking at some of the people I used to give my time to and I have zero regrets of cutting ties with any of them. Even if at the time it was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

There was Kat who insisted I was her absolute best friend that wasn't her in person best friend. Yet she would only talk to me if she had no one else to talk to. She barely acknowledged me in public and didn't involve me in anything ever. We broke things off when I'd been having an extremely rough night, like sobbing alone at my computer bad. She'd been out drinking that night and started talking at me. When I told her I was upset she told me I should smoke some weed about it. The next day when she was sober I told her that wasn't cool and she got pissed at me. I haven't spoken to her since.

There was Azura who collected people to be her emotional harem. I was the oldest in her personal server by like a decade, which made me uncomfortable already. But the youngest was like 11, which deeply concerned me. When there wasn't enough attention on her, she'd suddenly get upset and start implying she was having suicidal thoughts. I don't take those things lightly so I would be deeply worried about her. I had many late or sleepless nights trying to be there for her, talking her through things. But it got to a point that I could predict when she would start doing it even if she seemed perfectly fine in the moment. Then when I caused too much trouble, she kicked me out of the server. The trouble being I was upset that another person would pester me constantly in DMs after repeatedly telling her to not DM me. And she was constantly trying to force me into non-con roleplay scenarios that halfway through she would try to turn into some sort of weird fluffy romance. She said I wasn't saying "no" forcefully enough because she had ADHD. Azura took her side.

Then there was Beth. The last vestige of my poor choices. I only just cut her off about a month ago. She only really talked to me if she needed someone to compliment her art or if she needed someone to talk at. Another friend said our conversations read like I was trying to talk to an AI they were so weirdly one-sided. Funnily enough, Ghost was the pebble that started the avalanche that ended it all. I was trying harder to talk about stuff I liked in an attempt to make things less one-sided. She basically said "meh" and made the conversation super serious about her in a completely unrelated topic. When I voiced my frustrations about how she treated me, she had the fucking audacity of saying I was making the conversation about me. Which really proved we were only ever allowed to talk about her. And this was all after I'd given her a second chance. Previously we'd gone several months without talking because she'd wildly mis-interpreted my words and decided to hold me secretly responsible for what she decided I'd actually meant. She'd taken "Are you sure that's a good idea?" (context being: not waiting longer for something) and she assumed I meant "You're going to fail." She didn't actually TELL me this, she just didn't respond to me for several days. She already knew I refused to tolerate silent treatment bullshit.

I've been through dozens of "friendships" like this. Toxic beyond all reason. In a way it makes me angry that I allowed myself to be used in so many different ways. But these are old scars. They no longer actually hurt most of the time. They're just a reminder of the shit I've been through. And remembering them makes me so grateful for the amazing friends and people I know today.

Just remember that friends are supposed to lift you up. Not make you dread your chat app notification sound. If thinking about a friend doesn't make your heart feel warm, if you're the sort that gets feelings like that. Friends should make you feel like wrapping up in a cozy blanket on a cold day just thinking about them. They should feel like a cool autumn breeze after a long hot summer. They should make you feel like life is worth living.

If someone insists they're your friend, consider whether they make your life better just by existing in it. Because I promise you, people who claim to be friends who don't do that are not your friends. They're not worth the time they demand of you. Find people who will be a warm light (or comforting darkness if you're into that) instead of people who sink their claws into.

[icollectrocksj09]

🌙 J + J ⛓

TW: this story contains threats, vulgar words, and red flags

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I remember when she was the light of my life.

I remember how we made eachother laugh but then as more lies were made, the less we trusted eachother.

The first half of the lies she said were only pranks, so I did the same but they weren't as bad.

As time went on, I confessed and she loved me.

I loved her so much, more then anything.

Whatever she wanted me to do, I did even if it costed me my friendships.

One day, she made me cut ties with somebody I consider a sister.

She made my firefly cry.. but.. she was only sticking up for me?

Firefly made me choose sides, so I chose hers.

I kept in touch with my sister obviously but I don't think she knew that.

As time went on,

firefly told me things like "KYS" over little mistakes which I don't know much of what it meant at the time but it meant something.

"ARE YOU DEAF?" As time went on, every single mistake "GREAT! WE HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN YOU DUMBASS" or something I did to upset her "My friends are better, they make me laugh." continued and continued

I couldn't take it anymore.

I finally noticed the flags after all these years.

"########, we need to break up."

"Our relationship is obviously not working because you don't care anymore and I'm tired of this."

I felt myself.

Getting up as the chains slid off.

"K."

She didn't care, did she?

"We can still be friends though we don't have to unfriend eachother"

She said.

She never cared, never did, yet I was so damn blind.

Yet months or a tear later we spoke again and she had the fucking audacity to be like "Oh btw I have new friends and we make eachother laugh"

Shut the fuck up you cheating toxic hoe.

But at least I'm free after all this time y'know?

All the chains dead and gone..

It feels fuckin great <3

By, J09

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Yeah? You seem to be doing that a lot recently," She mumbled under her breath as she sank down to the ground. Her back pressing into the curve of the wooden steps as her head rested against the banister. "And here I thought you hated being a vampire. It's why Echo Acres had been so appealing, hadn't it?" She reminded him, making a mental note at the way he seemed to hesitate before coming to slide down beside her.

"Don't," Her voice was all but a strained whisper as she watched him slowly weave his hand through hers. "You don't need to try to comfort me. We both know you're happy he's dead and why wouldn't you be?" She wasn't exactly upset Theo was dead herself which was precisely part of her problem. Meena had no issue cutting out one of the only people who seemed to give even a semblance of a damn about her. She had no issue pushing everyone and anyone away and, yet, then she had the audacity to feel lonely. She had the audacity to sit there and feel sad knowing that she was now down to only one person who'd remember her as human. One person who couldn't even begin to understand what she was feeling right now. And yet, as much as she may tell him she didn't want or need his feigned sympathy, she didn't bother to pull her hand away.

"I'm not talking about Meena Raja-Moore. I'm talking about how maybe you still view me as the girl you met over two hundred years ago? I'm talking about how just three days ago, in that god forsaken nightmare, the two of you did it again. You and Theo fought while I sat tied to a fucking chair being glossed over and for the most part ignored. And I was- I was fucking scared. You were getting your heart ripped out. I understand that. But, I... I felt fairly dehumanized and I didn't know if or when my head would be next, even after you opened the door," She knew he had been mourning James. She knew he was dealing with his own grief, but it didn't change the fact that she still hadn't been safe, even after he opened the door. She had still been tied up in some death contraption waiting for Theo to pull the plug and chop her head off next. And it wasn't just then. Every time she seemed to be in a room with Kadir and Theo, it was as if she ceased to exist. "And here you are talking about how incredible I am, when what have I done for this town? Tell me, because the way I see it, this town has gone through far more shit with me in charge than it ever did when I wasn't. It's not about money or the titles. It's about how I never know what you're thinking and I try to tell you what am I. I try more than I ever have with anyone with you and, you say you want to get to know me again and how you want to see me, but I'm sitting right here and I don't really know what else to do?"

"Kadir," She pressed her lips together, willing her lips not to start trembling too as he pulled off the ring she had given him. Watching him hand it back to her, despite it being the last thing she wanted him to do. But, slowly she took the ring back in her hand, tracing her fingers over the familiar indentations as she gave him a small, but hesitant nod as he spoke. "You've always been one for pretty words," She admitted quietly under her breath. She just was no longer sure if she could trust it being anything more than just pretty words.

He shrugged. "I changed my mind. Turns out you have a couple of weeks to pull out of a contract. Nifty, that clause." Not that it would have mattered; after more than two lifetimes and several successful businesses, Kadir had enough money to buy two houses in town if he'd needed it. Unlike many vampires their age, however, Kadir had never been quite as good at spending that money. He tipped generously, paid his employees well, tried, in short, to be the boss he'd never had, to make sure the people working for him didn't go hungry the way he had when he was human, didn't have to near kill themselves day in and day out to scrape two pennies together. But he did not buy expensive things. His clothes were cheap and practical. He had had his car--beat up, repaired a hundred times over--for decades. He stayed in cheap motels, and his most beloved belongings were not worth much on the market: his father's watch on his left wrist which hadn't worked in over a hundred years; James' ring on a chain, once worn under his shirt against his heart but now tucked into a drawer for safe keeping, and, of course, Meena's father's ring.

"I guess after all this time, it made sense to be closer to the things I love." Meena was one of those things, certainly. But being a vampire? He was still working on that one. He had chosen this life--or this death, really. He had chosen in that dream to be a vampire with her rather than a human with James, but that did not mean that two hundred years of hating what he was would simply disappear overnight. As she took a seat, Kadir hesitated for only a second before coming to sit by her side. He moved the sledgehammer away and settled on the steps. Slowly, he reached for her shaking hands and took them in his own, bigger ones, lacing their fingers together. He wanted to reach out, too, and wipe away her tears, but he knew he couldn't sweep this bit under the rug, couldn't pretend she didn't have all the reason in the world to be crying.

He had never understood her relationship with Theo. All Kadir knew for his sire was hatred, hatred that had strengthened like fine wine over the centuries, growing with every new year he was undead. Hating Theo had allowed Kadir an outlet for how much he hated himself. He had thought that when Theo died he would feel better; instead, all that hatred was reflected back at him, all the mistakes he'd made that he couldn't pin on a dead man. But Meena had lived with Theo for hundreds of years. Kadir might never understand how she'd done it, just as she might never understand that he had loved two people truly and completely in this lifetime, that loving James had never meant forgetting her. He couldn't understand her marriage, but he had to learn to live with it. Theo had meant something to her. Dead or alive, Theo had been her husband, her companion, at her side when Kadir hadn't been. And she had killed him.

Now, he did wipe her tears away, letting go of her hands with one of of his own to gently brush the wetness from her cheeks. "I'm sorry that you've had to be afraid of that," he said. "And I'm sorry you've ever had to feel that way. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. But the idea of Meena Raja-Moore? I don't know her. I've never met her. Don't get me wrong, what you've done in this town is incredible. Mayor, clan leader. It's amazing. But the idea of you, the you you show everyone here? I've never known her. Not really. I know a girl I met two hundred years ago, and I didn't care then who your family was or how much money you had, and I sure as hell don't give a damn about that now. And I can't pretend I understand everything that's going on in that beautiful head of yours. I probably don't understand most of it. But I do know I'm willing to find out. I want to get to know you again, Meena. I want to see you, Meena. So give me the chance to."

Sighing softly, Kadir pulled off the ring he wore. It wasn't as hot as it used to be, summer waning now, but the sun was still out, and he was liable to get a killer burn before long. "It's up to you," he said, putting it in her palm. "You can give that back to me when you're ready. Because I'm going to be here. And if you're not ready now, then I'll wait. I've been waiting two hundred and fifty years. I can wait a little longer. When you're ready, I'll be here."

[transbee]

me realizing im not over it

[littleoddwriter]

Lucky | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader x Victor Zsasz | Smut

"here I am requesting anything Roman x zsasz x reader. Maybe reader who’s a little more into the crime? maybe, sharing Zsasz’s duty between him and reader. both of them being the bodyguards and the muscle and the violent puppies trailing after Roman. whatever you want to do with it is up to you but I cannot stop thinking about it. okay thank u love u" @passable-talent

A/N: Amazing request, thank you so much,,, I hope you like it! Love you too!!!

summary; Victor and you “free” someone for Roman and some smutty good times follow that. 

notes; TW/CW // Non-explicit murder; Peeling sb’s face off; Guns; Knives. KINKS: Coming in Pants + Untouched basically; Making out; Grinding; Praise Kink (minor). Male!Reader; Smut; Polyamourous relationship.

Surrounded by Roman's lower ranks, who were all pointing their guns at the little fuck tied to the chair, Victor and you stood right next to that said fuck. Roman, like always, sat in his arm chair a few feet away, so the blood wouldn't reach him under any circumstances, a bowl of popcorn in his hand. Victor held the curved, custom made knife in his hand and leaned over the victim. Well, offender, really. No one upset Roman and got away with it, especially not alive. You stood on the other side of that fuck, a sleek, also custom made, pistol in your hand, holding it against the temple of that man.

He was already crying and pleading, though it was all muffled, thanks to the duct tape on his mouth. A pathetic guy, really. He should have thought better of practically spitting in Roman's face, upon his proposition. He could have just refused, which of course, would have led to the same outcome, but then you and Victor wouldn't be inclined to torture him thoroughly, like you were about to do.

The power you held was intoxicating. So far, you wouldn't do much, though. Your job was to have the gun pointed against his temple, while Victor sliced that pig open here and there, perhaps some other things too, he liked to get creative when given the freedom. After that was done, you would likely work on peeling that fuck's face off, which sometimes you did together. The current situation certainly called for it. You couldn't wait!

In the background, Roman was talking, while Victor sliced that fucks torso open methodically. He was reprimanding the man for his audacity to have been so rude, mocking him for making such stupid mistakes, when he should have known what was to come. He was telling him how he was just going to be another example, like so many before him.

You were already so turned on. Seeing Victor go on so beautifully about where he made each cut and how deep it should be, while also hearing Roman talk, like he was so above it all - which, of course, he was - was so utterly perfect to you. It was so marvelous and exciting, you couldn't wait for the face to be off, so you could celebrate and blow off all that steam properly.

When Roman had hired you many moons ago, you would have never thought to be so close to either him and Zsasz. You hadn't expected to be much more than the guys surrounding you, just present when necessary and only for show, more than anything. Yet, there you were now, next to Victor, slicing into the one side of the fuck's face, while Zsasz was busy on the opposite one.

The relationship between the three of you was so very special, something other people couldn't ever come close to, if they so much as tried.

When you had started to get close to Roman, Victor hated you with every fiber of his being at first, you knew that. He was jealous, and rightfully so. Soon after, he came to mind your presence less, until he started to like you too, just like you had started to adore him way before. Roman, of course, couldn't have been happier for his two boys to get along well. Not too long after, the three or you found yourselves in Roman and Victor's huge bed, fucking and worshipping each other. It was beautiful. It was the beginning to what you had now.

You bounced right off each other, knowing what each of you needed and wanted, before you might even know it yourself. Roman needed the two of you like air. You and Victor needed him just the same. You gave him everything. You made sure no one lived after missteps like those of the fuck, who was now faceless.

Breathing heavily, you and Victor stepped away and turned around to Roman, grinning. Zsasz held the face in his hand, showing it off.

"Ew, I don't want it," Roman rasped, pulling a grimace and flicking his hand.

Victor let it fall to the floor, carelessly, into the pool of blood, and shrugged.

With a twirl of his finger, Roman made everyone around you move to clean up the mess, while the three of you went upstairs.

As soon as you had cleaned off the blood on your hands and face, you lay down on the bed, already on each other. Tightly, you gripped onto Victor's thigh and Roman's bicep, while you ground down on your boss' thigh, which was lodged between your legs. He and Zsasz were making out sloppily, driven by the arousal of what you've just done.

The other two men broke their kiss and turned their heads to look at you, panting, spit slick lips stretched into grins.

"Oh, you two have done wonderful today! That pig squealed so beautifully, just like I wanted. I'm so lucky to have such wonderful boys, hm?" Roman exclaimed, clasping his hands together excitedly, as he grinned at you and Victor.

Blushing a little, you smiled and just nodded. You couldn't possibly speak, you were so overwhelmed by the pressure between your legs and the words he uttered. His praise meant everything to you. And you knew it was the same for Victor, who moaned breathily at what Roman has said.

Then both of them were suddenly on you. Roman captured your lips in a searing, open-mouthed kiss, and Victor kissed along your neck and down to your collarbone, which was exposed by your shirt's collar. You moaned into Roman's mouth, bucking your hips needily.

When Roman let up on your mouth, he and Victor didn't even need to say a word, because Zsasz was immediately back up and started to claim your lips in another make out session. Your head was spinning with arousal, your body was hot, you were so close to coming.

"Please," you mumbled more or less incoherently into Victor's mouth, who only grinned and continued to kiss you, while moving your hips back and forth on Roman's thigh.

Roman chuckled against your chest, where he had opened your shirt moments ago and latched onto your nipples, sucking, nibbling and biting all across your chest. You moaned loudly, when you couldn't hold back anymore and came in your pants, painting them with your release. Twitching and overly sensitive, you kept moaning weakly through your aftershocks, before you collapsed onto the other two men.

"Good boy," Roman rasped into your ear and stroked your hair gently.

"Yeah, you did so good today," Victor added breathily and you could swear that was one of the very rare moments, in which he praised you, too.

After that it was all a bit of a blur to you, while Roman and Victor ravished each other. They included you too, of course, but they let you do everything in your own pace, which was nice. It was a beautiful way to celebrate the successful day you've all had.

[sinsbymanka]

This is a submission for the @cozy-autumn-prompts​ event, brainchild of the lovely @scharoux​. Thank you for the amazing prompts! @tightassets​ and I submit the following art (belonging to her talented hands) and fic (my doing) for prompt #4: By The Fire.

Title: It’ll be a Hell of a Story Rating: M Pairing: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras Tags: Flirting, UST, Fantasizing, Pre-Relationship, Non-Inquisitor Cadash

Read on AO3

It should have been a simple problem.

Simpler than the breach swirling threateningly above them, at any rate.

They’d managed to survive the whole world going to shit, but that massive hole in the sky was still gonna be a problem they needed to solve. Sooner rather than later. And to do that, they needed people. Soldiers. Mages. Weapons.

Lyrium.

And whenever someone said ‘lyrium’, they always looked at the dwarf. Like the humans and their skirts and their wars hadn’t upset the whole damn lyrium trade. Varric debated throwing his hands up and washing them of the whole thing.

Demons. Holes in the sky. Templars. Mages. None of it was really his cup of ale.

But there had been red lyrium in the temple. And that… well, that was his problem. He’d put it out in the world. He was responsible for the spark that ignited the fire, and now he had to deal with the inferno. Besides. He could find a lyrium dealer with one hand tied behind his back, right?

He could kick himself for his optimism.

Ruffles couldn’t get the Merchant’s Guild or Orzammar to play ball, not a surprise. Too much risk to sell to this ragtag bunch on top of a mountain, not enough reward. Even Varric wouldn’t be able to pull enough strings to make it work, which meant he needed the Carta.

Of course, the one time in his life he wanted them to appear, they were nowhere to be found. Frankly, that was suspicious. There’d been Carta crawling all over Haven when he arrived, it didn’t take much to see their signs. Dwarven marks carved into cabins to mark drop points. Snow clearly brushed back to cover paths. Several short, shady dwarves in the tavern that kept to themselves while they played cards.

If he’d have known he’d need them later, he would have said hello. He’d been too worried about spinning tales to make the chantry dance to his tune and trying to ingratiate himself to both sides of this damn mess so he could get back to Kirkwall with his fine dwarven chest hair intact.

Maybe they’d all died in the aftermath of the temple exploding. He’d seen a couple Dwarven corpses, but not enough to make up a whole crew, and there’d been multiple operating in Haven. Did that mean the rest fled?

Varric scratched his stubble while he picked his way down the icy, gravel path. His eyes still roamed, trying to find any signs of seedy deals lingering in the shadows, but all he saw were scared refugees and soldiers not even old enough to grow a beard. The wind cut through them all and they scurried past without even looking down at the dwarf.

Well. Back to his fire to regroup and think of another plan before he froze into a nice chunk of rather handsome ice.

Honestly, it was hard to believe that somebody didn’t look at the chaos and see profit to be made. They didn’t make Carta as tough as they used to, apparently. Where were all the tough, savvy business people? The clever rogues able to stay one step ahead of all the competition? What about someone who could look at this mess and decide to chip in, if only because that hole in the world threatened everything?

Varric scoffed to himself and shoved his hands in his coat. Carta dwarf with a heart of gold? He’d grow a beard first.

He sighed and turned the corner, letting his eyes drift covetously to the fire not twenty paces away.

And almost stumbled to a complete stop. There was a woman sitting on his bench, next to his abandoned supplies, munching on a flaky pastry while flipping through his book.

A dwarven woman. One that looked like the right kind of shady he’d been trying to locate all damn day.

But the cunning tip of her head as she read, the blade on her thigh, the sheer audacity of her, was nothing notable. Not compared to the curves accentuated by her snug breeches and the tempting swell of her breasts tantalizingly framed by a shirt not quite as scandalous as his, but close. Her red hair was braided away from her face, but wisps of it danced in the wind, tickled her freckled nose.

She lifted her eyes from the page and locked eyes with him. Hers crackled with intelligence, energy, and absolutely wicked satisfaction.

At a glance he knew three things. First. She was Carta. Second. She’d been watching him look for her.

Lastly, and most importantly, she was the best kind of trouble. And that made her more dangerous than she even knew.

She didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even bother to drop his pilfered book. Instead, she raised her snack to her lips and took a slow bite, watching him watch her like she was a queen upon her throne and him some lowly petitioner.

And honestly, that was the right of it. Which shouldn’t make him think of getting on his knees and throwing those shapely thighs over his shoulders, but dammit he hadn’t expected to find the most gorgeous woman in the world in the middle of the Ferelden muck.

She lifted his book, tipped her head to the side, and smirked. “It’s not bad, but you’re sodding verbose, Tethras. You should probably get a better editor.”

Every thought in his mind screeched to a halt, replaced by one word.

Minx.

“Sorry my personal belongings aren’t up to snuff, Princess. I’ll leave better material out for you to peruse next time.” Thank Andraste his mouth was still working, because he’d lost control of his feet completely, dragged towards her like a victim of an unseen mage.

She snapped the book shut and tossed it easily onto the ground, ignoring his nickname to pat the bench beside her. It was a clear invitation, and he almost forgot how absurd it was to be invited to sit on his bench. Almost.

“I’ve been looking for the Carta all damn day.” He narrowed his eyes, making a show of grumbling displeasure to hide his ridiculous glee.

Her only answer was a sly smirk and to recline back on one palm. “I know. I was watching.”

“See something you like?” He gestured at himself, watching her stormy eyes drop from his face down his stocky body, lingering pointedly on his displayed chest. Then she swept a burning path back to his face.

“It’s not a terrible view.” She admitted.

He smiled at her. The most charming, brilliant smile he could summon. The same one that had many a fine dwarven barmaid tumbling over themselves to get him another glass of ale. His redheaded temptress only gave him a predatorial smirk in return.

“Should I assume you’re here for business?” He asked.

Or pleasure.

He didn’t dare say it. Not to her. There was something… something about her that made him pause, consider her carefully. Something that screamed if he gave her that power over him, he’d regret it the rest of his life.

It was the eyes. Must have been. He’d never seen a more endless set of eyes in his damn life.

“I’m curious.” She declared, tapping her free hand on the bench while she studied him. “I was on my way out, you know. Too much crazy religion for my taste.”

“The Chantry freaks you out more than the demons?”

“I can shoot the demons. It’s frowned upon to start murdering old women squawking at me, but they are annoying.”

She wrinkled her nose in evident distaste and something flipped in his stomach. The wind picked up again and took more of the hair from her braid, whipped it across her cheeks.

He had the sudden, maddening urge to trace his gloved fingers over her jaw and tuck it back behind the shell of her ear before cupping her cheek and drawing her sweetly towards him in a passionate kiss that-

She was either far too clever for her own good or used to inspiring a chaotic inferno of lust wherever she went, because she clearly saw the direction his thoughts veered off into. And all the woman did was bit her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh he was sure would be throaty and sinful.

Yeah. He definitely didn’t need to sit down next to her on the bench. He needed three feet of space between her and him at all times to stop himself from doing something stupid.

His legs didn’t get the memo.

He plopped his ass right next to her, their thighs touching teasingly, but she didn’t bother moving. Instead, she simply eyed him with a distinct blend of wariness and interest. He sensed it would take more than his roguish charm to break down that caution, but he didn’t need to do all of it now.

He was used to playing the long game, after all.

“What’s your name, Princess?”

“Cadash.” Varric’s heart leapt in triumph. That was a good name for lyrium. A very good name. It was about time he had some good luck.

Then she added the kicker. “Maria Cadash.”

Oh. Oh they had hit the fucking vein with this one. They didn’t just have Cadash clan operating in Haven, they had one of the fucking heirs to the whole pot. A winning hand, if he played it right.

“Nanna sent me a letter telling me to get the hell out of dodge before the humans blew up the sky. Again.” She smirked, shaking her head. “But I’d just gotten comfortable.”

“We can keep you quite comfortable, Princess.” Varric insisted. Maker, he had hit the nail on that head with her nickname. He had bonafide Carta royalty on his hands and he’d do well not to lose her.

She leaned forward, her shirt dipping open with the motion, drawing his eyes for just a second and making him think of other things he could have in his hands. Because he was weak. A weak, weak man.

Maria held his gaze, brought the sweet back up to her mouth, and bit into the flaky dough. His eyes flew to the sugar dusting her pretty lips. He had half a mind to lean in and kiss it off.

“You know, those are bad for you. Not a single apple actually in them, Princess.” Varric rasped.

Maria slowly licked the sugar off her bottom lip. “I only like things that are bad for me, honestly.”

Varric leapt on her admission of weakness. “Well in that case, why not supply the Inquisition? You couldn’t make a more dangerous decision if your life depended on it. Think of the rush of danger. The cloak and dagger thrill. The late night missions and secret assignations…”

He sweetened his voice to the same low, cajoling tone he’d used on templar, guards, coterie, and all the worst of Kirkwall. She watched his mouth move with rapt attention, her snack forgotten.

Varric didn’t know how his arm slipped behind her back, but suddenly his palm was on the curve of her spine in a gesture that seemed carelessly intimate. Maria didn’t pull away. Their knees touched, her chin tipped up, and for a wild moment Varric waited for her to lean in and capture his mouth.

Instead, her smile curled up like the fire they sat beside. She tore her eyes from his to look at it with a shake of her head.

“It’ll cost you.” She warned. “This is risky. Risky isn’t cheap.”

Some things were worth paying any price for, weren’t they?

“We’ll find the coin.” He promised. “And you get to stay at the center of the action, just like you want.”

Her eyebrow climbed up her forehead. “You think I want to be underneath a spiraling hole in the bleedin’ world freezing my tits off?”

“Of course you do.” He stated, picking up an abandoned mug and holding it out to her in a silent toast. “It’s gonna be a hell of a story, Princess. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Just the slightest bit of her wariness fell away, revealing a wicked glint of humor and a spark of madness he’d seen too often in a dozen other brilliant women when they had made up their mind to have an adventure with or without him.

“No.” She declared with relish. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.”

[amzyspinkarch]

Cut Style- Cavendish x Plus Size Reader

You have been taking calls, sending and responding to emails all day, tracking down clients or important people whom your supervisor wish to speak with. Packing boxes and having packages sent out to call for a messenger service, including taking your supervisor's dog for a walk and getting her lunch and coffee. 

To say it's been a stressful day would be an understatement. One would think three months in the internship, you would be used to the chaos and bizarre yet normal in this industry's eyes,  errands. You look to your list for the next upcoming phone calls to be made. A sigh escapes as you lean your head onto the chair, closing your eyes for a moment of peace. 

That peace did not last very long as 'everyone's favourite blonde' as you like to call him, graced you with his presence. You sigh picking up his scent from his very expensive perfume. 

''I bring you both my presence and coffee and this is the lacklustre reaction I get?'' he pauses waiting for a response, yet none came 

''Y/n!'' he snapped. You involuntarily flinched before collecting yourself, lazily opening one of your eyes. A dark brown iris meets his pools of sky blue. 

''Hi" you lazily greet your co-worker and sit up to give him the attention he so loves. Your eyes roll on the thought ''What do you want cabbage?''  you ask rudely with a smirk knowing the nickname always gets on his nerves. It works best when you want him to get out of your space. Though, it's not too hard to when the other females here flock to him granting you an escape. 

He puts the coffee down on the desk giving you an annoyed look. You squint at the beverages not trusting this sneaky son a bitch one bit after the last stunt he pulled. A memory from your earlier time here at Marie Clare plays.

The first time you are introduced to everyone, you felt a swarm of butterflies in your stomach as your nerves almost got the best of you. You were only able to nod, smile and shake hands of your new co-workers who were all smiles. Your day went on being given a tour, introducing you to your supervisor and shadowing.

During the upcoming months, you've taken on every task given to you without complaint and executing each with the standard required. Day in and day out you prove yourself to your supervisor and the magazine. There were days where you missed lunch and had a lousy dinner while handling more business before crashing and waking the next to repeat.

An entire day was filled with taking calls, running small errands, dressing the models and fetching accessories and providing the staff with snacks and beverages. You catch sight of Cavendish busy styling one of the models. The pair seemed to be flirting with each other or having a fun conversation judging by the smiles on each's face. For some reason, you couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. Why? You started your journey of self-love and acceptance so why break that for a couple of strangers? 'Are you strangers though?' your mind asks. You shake your head getting it back into the game. This is not what you worked your ass off for, to seek the attention of a guy.

Your impeccable ability to style, dressing mannequins, selecting and coordinating outfits, colours and accessories for display, draping and pinning fabric, your work discipline has started becoming the talk of the workplace reaching the ears of a certain blonde. Your talent being compared to his were the wrong words to hear. The fact that you are good and becoming the centre of attention was eating him up inside and he didn't like it.

You were busy between waiting for a call back from a client and styling a mannequin that you hadn't realized Cavendish coming your way with two coffees in his hand.

''Hi there'' he chirped you startled again from his presence and whipped around to face him. The first thing he noticed were your nude ombre glossed lips before your 90's inspired outfit adorning your body and beautiful dark skin. Alas, though you are a sight to see, that wasn't enough to soothe the bruises to the ego.

''You have to stop scaring me like that man. Seriously'' he gives a fake apologetic smile and hands you your coffee.

''I just wanted to come see about the girl who's the talk of the office. Your work has been...nice. It's nowhere as great as mine but.. .'

You accept the coffee raising an eyebrow ''is that so?''

''Qui. My style’s... c'est magnifique. Your work is decent though.''

''Thanks for the coffee, we should do this again next time.'' You give a blank face looking at up at the tall male. He chuckles and walks backwards with his hands raised.

''It was nice meeting you y/n'' he dismisses himself leaving you to huff at the audacity of him. You go back to work and forgot about the coffee for a minute before picking it up absentmindedly. While working on the mannequin, you take frequent sips of the liquid before your stomach started having a queasy feeling along with trips to the bathroom.

This was not good; you had a list of daily tasks to be completed. All essential for the magazine and failure to stay on top of your work could be disastrous for the magazine and you. You barely made it through the day completing tasks and to your apartment bathroom.

Having a break from releasing your bowels for a minute, you think about the events from the day. Your mind went to your moment with Cavendish as you became upset at the memory when it hit you. The assailant caused you to become both horrified and see red.

After you've overcome your sickness, you marched into work looking for the blonde finding him working on piece. It looked amazing what he had so far you admitted. Nevertheless, you had a mission. He was sitting at his desk hovering over a sketch lost in thought. You slammed your hands down on his desk gaining his attention as he looks up with the same sickening charming smile. How could he live with himself? You leaned towards him.

''You poisoned me with no care for consequence. What kind of sick person stoops that low? I'm not going to have you fired for this but a word of advice, if you want to take out your competition, do so with some class and not repulsive tricks like this. I worked my butt off for this internship; I'll succeed at getting this job full ti.-''

''I will personally make sure that you never get this job. You're not'' he pauses to look at your full figure ''fit'' you dryly chuckle

''Listen to me. I will not let some lacklustre, shallow, self-centred, my little pony looking ass bitch drive me out of the place which will become my future job. Cavendish...sweeties...you can go fuck yourself'' you straighten yourself before turning your back and walking out with grace.

You straighten yourself in your chair looking to Cavendish and give a closed-mouth smile. `"I'll pass on your death drinks Cavendish. Thank you.''

''That was a long time ag-'

''Don't...don't do that. Don't act like it was nothing big. You poisoned me and I should've reported you but I wasn't going to get you fired for being a jealous prissy pants.'' The blonde stares at you still surprised at how blunt you can be

''Do you ever listen to what you say?''

''My words are as blunt as both your words and actions. Don't act fazed, what I say is the truth. Anyways what did you want I'm busy'' he scoffs before leaning closer and your fingers kiss. 

The attraction for each other is undeniable yet neither will be the first to start...anything. You already decided distractions aren't a luxury you could afford and any would be detrimental to all the hard work and time you've been putting in. You remind yourself that you are but an intern, desperately needing this job after college. You have no time to play house with someone who's foot is already in the door. Cavendish takes a moment briefly taking in your features and attire, appreciating everything before breaking up the moment.

''I came to give you some good news. I'm going to style a certain celebrity and I came to bring you coffee so you can celebrate with me before I go down to my fans..'' he says dreamily. You all but laugh at the male.

''Congratulations''

''You didn't let me finish''

''Oh there's more'' you say uninterested.

''Honestly, you are so brash. I also wished to let you know I have decided I'd let you shadow me. Or be my little helper. Amanda said that would be great for you and I. You learn from a great teacher and I, well... I show you what it's like being around greatness. Even now you are a witness as we converse.''

Your lips purse before you speak, words dripping with sarcasm ''Woow, really! Me? Oh, Cabbage I'm so honoured that you chose me to be one of your followers! I hope I can..make you proud'' you wink

''My gosh woman! Honestly y/n I'm trying to be nice here''

''You're being self-centred that's what but, that's very nice of you. I appreciate it. I would like to learn from you.''

"Thank you. See, you're already getting better at gratitude''

''Whatever little knowledge I need to know''

''I hope you fall down the stairs'' he says taking the coffees off your desk going to turn around

''Ha-ha I'm sorry Cavendish. Come back, I am grateful and thank you for the opportunity. I'm just not sure why you picked me?'' he releases a breath before turning to you again, his voluminous hair bounces with the movement.

''If you must know...I didn't entirely agree to this but I thought you'd actually need the opportunity. Plus, they've done this before with past interns. I was more so assigned with you really but I reluctantly agreed.'' You give him a face 

''I said I agreed still didn't I?'' you shake your head chuckling involuntarily

''Fine Cavendish, I would actually love to learn from you as you have more experience than I and I'd need all the experience I can get. Just...can you promise not to sabotage me? No poisoning or anything'' you say looking at him pointedly as he rolls his eyes

''Fine y/n'' you firmly nod and put your hand out. He looks at it then into your dark brown eyes bemused. Nonetheless, he takes your hand and you shake once. You've surprised him more than he'd like to admit these past months. He's taken an interest in you even if he still despises the shared spotlight.

''Truce?'' you ask.

''Truce.'' He picks up the drinks up teasing you

''You get no coffee though''

''I didn't want that shit anyway. You probably wanted to poison me again you psycho.''

Without peeling his gaze, he takes a sip from the cup meant for you feeling the warm liquid wash down his throat, warming his insides. He licks his lips.

''Mm mocha.''

''Get the fuck out''

[greenteafiend]

Please Don’t Punch Me

Summary:

Keith is not Nyma’s boyfriend, but Lance thinks he is. Lance also thinks that Keith wants to punch him in the face for flirting with her, and maybe making out with her, but in his defense, she didn’t tell him she had a boyfriend with a jealous streak a mile wide!

So naturally, Lance buys Keith a ‘please don’t punch me in the face’ beer.  

Keith just thinks he’s flirting.

Read what I wrote under the cut :)

‘You can’t punch a guy if he buys you a beer, its science, I’m telling you,’ Lance has to raise his voice slightly to be heard above the background buzz of people talking in the bar. Its busy.

‘I dunno man, I’ve heard stories about Nyma’s boyfriend. I reeeeally think it’d be best if you just avoided him. Some other shmuck will make the mistake of hitting on her, and he’ll forget all about you,’ replies Hunk, ever the voice of reason.

‘Two beers please!’ says Lance to the bartender.

‘Is one of those for me?’

‘Three beers please!’ amends Lance quickly.

‘-But It’s your funeral I guess.’

‘Aw, c’mon, you’ll have my back right? If he tries to fight me?’

‘You know how I feel about violence,’ says Hunk. Lance rolls his eyes.

‘Yeah, and I know how intimidating you can look when you put your mind to it. You don’t have to fight him for me, just, you know, scare him off if it looks like I’ll be murdered.’  

Suddenly Hunk’s cheeks turn pink as he catches sight of something over Lance’s shoulder. Lance turns his head to see what’s caught Hunk’s attention, before snorting in amusement.

“Oh look, there’s Shay,” he says slyly.

“La-nce,” wines Hunk pathetically, “Look at her, she’s so beautiful. And she’s so kind and nice and smart.”

“Why don’t you go buy her a drink and then tell her everything you just told me?” suggests Lance helpfully.  

Hunk twiddles his thumbs.

“I dunno man…”

He loves Hunk like a brother, he really does, but Hunk needs to grow some balls. Lance decides to take pity on him. He turns around to face Shay and draws in a deep breath--

“Hey Shay!” he hollers, waving wildly.

“Lance! What are you doing?” whispers Hunk furiously.

“I’m helping you. You’ll thank me later.”

Lance feels Hunk’s whole body jolt as Shay spots them and beams sunnily. She weaves through the crowd to reach them.

“Hi guys!” she chirps.

“Evenin’ Shay,” says Lance smoothly.

“Hi,” gasps Hunk, sounding like he’s about to die.

“What’re you having Shay? Hunk here is going to buy you a drink,” says Lance jovially, slapping Hunk on the back.

He doesn’t miss the shyly pleased look that crosses Shay’s face as she gazes at Hunk.

These two were so stupidly gone for each other that their mutual pining was making Lance ill.  

“Um, are you sure-”

“YES!” Hunk cleared his throat, “I mean, yes. What would you like?”

Across the bar Lance spots a man staring at him.

Lance doesn’t actually know what Nyma’s boyfriend’s name is, or what he looks like. All he knows is that he’s here, that wants to punch Lance in the face, and that he rides a motorcycle.

The guy staring at him is wearing a red motorcycle jacket and matching riding boots. That coupled with the way he’s fixated on him; Lance figures that must be the guy.

He takes that as his cue.

“I think I see the person I bought this other beer for over there. I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.”

Hunk and Shay barely spare him a glance as he slips away, a beer handle clutched tightly in each fist.

The guy looks less scary and aggressive than he expects, and his gaze tracks Lance’s movement. Lance is proud he doesn’t spill any drink as he dodges through the thick crowd.

The guy is conveniently leaning against a wall next to a table so Lance puts down one of the beers so he can extend one of his hands.

‘Hi, I’m Lance, that guy you hate,’ he says, with his most charming smile, the one that flashes his straight white teeth and dimples.

The guy blinks like he can’t believe Lance is front of him talking to him, as if he didn’t just watch Lance’s approach whilst staring like a god-damn bird of prey. Lance thinks maybe he’s surprised that he had the audacity to address him like this?

He takes Lance’s offered hand hesitantly.

‘…I’m Keith,’ he says.

Lance catalogs that he has a nice voice, that his grip is strong, and that he’s wearing finger-less leather gloves.

He’s actually, on the whole, kind of, well --- hot. In a bad boy I-could-beat-you-up-with-my-hands-tied-behind-my-back kind of way. His hair is inky black and hangs into his eyes, which are dark. Lance can’t tell the exact color in the low light of the bar. He looks vaguely Asian, with the exact sharp jawline and lithe-but-muscular body type Lance is weak for in boys. Men.

He’s shorter than Lance, but that’s a given. Everyone is shorter than him, except Hunk. And Shiro. Ok not everyone, but Lance is tall, ok?

Basically, if the guy didn’t have a girlfriend and didn’t want to punch him in the face, Lance probably would have tried to chat him up.

‘So-- why do I hate you?’ asks Keith once Lance lets go of his hand.

Lance realises that Keith has not made the connection, and decides it would be better for himself if it stays that way until he can charm him enough that he doesn’t even want to hit him anymore no matter what he may or may not have done with Nyma.  

‘I dunno man, but I bought you this to make it up to you,’ he says airily, holding out the beer for Keith to take.

Keith crosses his arms over his chest and frowns.

‘How do I know you didn’t put anything in it?’

Lance blinks, then he brings the beer to his lips to take a large gulp. He sees Keith eyes track the bobbing movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

‘Not poisoned, I promise,’ he says with a lazy grin, holding out the beer again.

This time Keith accepts it.

‘So what brings you out tonight?’ Lance asks.

‘Came to see the live band.’

‘Hey, that’s why I’m here! My friend Pidge is playing-’

‘Are you the punk that’s been hitting on my girlfriend?’ a veritable mountain of muscle shoulder barges Lance from his spot in front of Keith, causing Lance to slosh beer all over the floor.

The guy was huge, just as tall as Lance, but much wider. All muscle. His nostrils are flared, meaty fists clenched, teeth bared.

In short, he is terrifying.

‘No,’ replies Keith coolly, not looking the least bit concerned or afraid.

‘Listen here you little shit-’

‘Woah woah woah, heeey, let’s talk about this calmly like gentlemen,’ Lance ran his stupid mouth and forced his stupid limbs between them, a hand on each chest. The guy didn’t budge at all at the pressure Lance exerted.

‘How about we all take a deep breath and-’

‘Get your fucking hand off me you faggot,’ the guy spat, and Lance can’t help but flinch at the sheer level of hostility.

‘What the fuck did you just say?’ says Keith quietly. Dangerously. The outline of his body goes ominously rigid and his hands curl into fists.

The situation is deteriorating out of control and Lance makes one last ditch effort to salvage it. Keith doesn’t deserve to get beat up on Lance’s account.  

‘Look, we don’t want any trouble-’

The guy suddenly shoves him away. Lance stumbles back and slips on the beer he’d spilt. His arms windmill to correct his balance, but ultimately gravity brings him down, hard. On the way to the floor his head smashes against the corner of the table. His head throbs and his vision swims.

‘You’ll regret that,’ Lance dully registers that although Keith didn’t raise his voice, he sounds scary furious.

Things after that were a bit… blurry.

He hears a pained groan, and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

Keith’s pretty face appears right in front of him. He looks concerned.

‘Lance! Are you okay?’

His head hurts.

‘I think… I think this is my fault,’ although his brain is strangely slow and sluggish, he manages to realise that Keith is not Nyma’s boyfriend. A misunderstanding has happened, and he thinks he knows where he went wrong.

Or at least he will, once his head stops pounding enough to think properly.

‘This isn’t your fault,’ says Keith fiercely, helping him stand. He is embarrassingly unsteady, and Keith has to stick by his side to keep him upright.

Lance looks down and see the guy laid out on the floor. Did Keith just...?

‘Did you… did you defend my honor?’ he asks stupidly.

‘He was being an asshole,’ replies Keith churlishly.

‘Lance! What happened!?’ Hunk is there now too.

‘I think Keith laid this guy out ‘cause he called me a nasty name.”

Lance vaguely registers that Hunk and Keith exchange names and shake hands. They are talking to each other, probably about him, but he can’t make sense of it over the pounding in his head.

The next thing he is aware of is sitting in a car. He’s in the back seat with his head in Hunk’s lap and Keith is driving.

‘Where are we going?’ he slurs. Hunk eyes him wearily.

‘The hospital Lance.”

‘Whose car?”

“Shiro’s,” answers Keith.

For some reason he feels tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. He can’t stop thinking about the virulence in that guy’s tone when he’d spat that hateful word…

‘Why’d he call me that?’ Lance whimpers.

‘Why’d who call you what buddy?’ asks Hunk patiently. Lance sniffs.

‘Because he’s a homophobic asshole,’ supplies Keith. Hunk makes a noise of understanding.

‘Why am I so upset though? I’m not… I’m not even gay, but it hurts.’

Lance is aware that he is whining, and probably not making much sense but he can’t control himself.

‘Oh Lance,’ sighs Hunk, patting his head.

‘Hunk! What about Shay!’ Lance exclaims suddenly.

‘Let me worry about Shay.’

‘You gotta… you gotta ask her out man.’

‘Sure thing buddy.’

This is just something I wrote. Where am I going with this? I don’t know. If you have any ideas please let me know lol 

[myaekingheart]

70. Sekkachi

So say goodbye to all your friends I fell in love with her again My baby 'Cause I'm not that kind of girl -Not That Kind of Girl, My Chemical Romance

               Sekkachi nearly spat her tea across the room when Guy told her the news. “I’m sorry, Rei did what?” she asked.

               Guy nodded dolefully. “Kakashi seems pretty upset about it” he said. It was clear he felt bad for his eternal rival—losing love was never easy. And deep down, a part of him felt a little guilty for having constantly asked him about the proposal plans, only for the relationship to fall apart.

               Meanwhile, Sekkachi was fuming. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her cup until her knuckles turned white, drumming the fingers of her opposite hand on the table. “After all those years” she growled, “All those fucking years of whining and complaining and senpai, notice me!”—here, she slipped into a mocking, high-pitched tone the likes of which she used on missions as Shitagi—“and she has the audacity to throw this shit away just because god forbid she’s a little depressed. I swear to god, if I ever run into her on the streets, I am going to pound her face into the dirt so hard!”

               Guy couldn’t help but laugh as he took a sip of his own drink. “So you do still care about her after all” he said matter-of-factly. He knew that at the end of the day, she could never bring herself to do such a thing.

               Sekkachi rolled her eyes and scoffed. “As if” she spat, taking another swig of her tea. “I couldn’t care less what that little carrot-haired runt does. I just hope she knows if I see her, I’m going to beat her up.”

               “Well, I wouldn’t get so hasty” Guy then said. “I almost forgot, there was one thing she wanted me to give you.” Sekkachi cocked a brow, eyeing Guy suspiciously. If Rei had something to give her, she didn’t want it. Guy reached into his back pocket and slid a small gold foil box across the table. She skeptically took it and opened it up, finding a single aquamarine earring inside. Immediately, Sekkachi covered her face and turned away. Guy reached across the table to rest a reassuring hand atop hers. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, and the hand covering her eyes quickly grew damp.

~o~

               It was a blistering summer day in Konoha. She had three more blocks to walk and Sekkachi was already sweating through her fancy clothes. Truthfully, she didn’t even understand why she needed to dress so nice in the first place. It was just a birthday party. She knew it wasn’t her place to demand these sorts of things, but dressed like this, she was wildly out of her element. But it was at Naru’s request, and she couldn’t possibly refuse.  

               It was her thirteenth birthday party and she insisted it be special. After all, she had said, you only become a teenager once. This is a rite of passage! I’m a fancy adult now and therefore we need to act as such. Sekkachi pressed a hand to her gurgling stomach as she remembered her own thirteenth birthday. She didn’t feel any more mature afterward than she had when she was twelve. Actually, if anything, she felt worse. Nowhere did she say she had wanted to commemorate teenagerhood with a needle through her belly button, the small ring now rubbing against her too-tight dress.

               Thirteen, however, suited Naru rather nicely. She opened the door, brimming, and tugged Sekkachi inside. On the surface, she looked no different than before but there was something in her attitude, perhaps a newfound albeit placeboed sense of confidence. Delicate flowers were weaved through a headband of braided hair and when she walked, her flouncy dress bounced and bubbled like she was some sort of fluffy cheesecake. “I thought turning thirteen meant becoming an adult” Sekkachi commented as she followed Naru back to the garden. A modestly wrapped gift was tucked under her arm. “Don’t you think that dress is a little childish?”

               “Oh, pfft!” Naru swatted the air dismissively. “You’re not getting the point! Being an adult doesn’t mean putting away childish stuff, it just means I can do whatever I want and no one can say anything about it!”

               Sekkachi had to admit, as precious and petite as the dress made her appear, it certainly suited Naru’s personality. The pastel blue complimented her bright eyes, the shape of it accentuated her bubbly personality, and the flowers printed on the fabric perfectly matched those weaved through her hair. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a princess. Sekkachi smoothed out her own dress, suddenly feeling significantly underdressed. Her only relief was when they reached the gardens where Rei awaited their return, also wearing something far less extravagant. It was then that Sekkachi realized just how much the whole thing seemed to make sense. After all, this was Naru’s birthday. She was the center of attention. It was natural that she look as such—though then again, when wasn’t she the center of attention?

               The Fuzuki clan was rather well-off and, as such, lived comfortably near the center of the village. As history foretold, they were one of the first clans in Konoha and were instrumental in helping to establish the current standard of government alongside Hashirama and Tobirama Senju. They retained close ties with the village’s leadership and Naru’s father even served as a correspondent for Lord Third. Their financial status was clearly exhibited through their intricate, sweeping garden and fine china. She really is a princess, Sekkachi thought to herself as she surveyed the place.

               Naru squealed as her mother handed her her birthday present, wrapped in a small gold foil box. She removed the lid to find two dainty aquamarine studs inside, the perfect shade to match her dress and eyes. She thanked her parents profusely and asked their maid to fetch her a mirror so she could fix them to her ears in that very moment.

               Anything else her family gave her left Sekkachi feeling extremely self conscious about her own gift. She wanted to believe she knew Naru well enough, but she proved rather difficult to buy for. In a fit of panic, she had settled for a floral haori she found in an antique shop. It was simple and perhaps a little too subdued for Naru’s tastes, but Sekkachi had hoped it would at least be appreciated. Now, however, she wasn’t so sure.

               “Your turn!” the blonde then announced, grinning to Sekkachi. The blue-haired kunoichi’s eyes went wide and she tried to stammer out a protest, but Naru wouldn’t hear of it. When Sekkachi froze, Naru took it upon herself to take the package herself. As she watched her pull apart the twine knot and unfold the wrapping paper, Sekkachi felt as if she was silently exploding. This was a terrible mistake. She was going to hate it. She didn’t do a good enough job. She was going to hate her.

               Naru gasped loudly as she held up the haori and a strange look painted her face. Sekkachi wasn’t sure whether it was delight or disgust, and Naru was taking way too long to clarify. And then it hit her: it was too big. Oh god, it was too big for her. “Y-you know, I can return it if it doesn’t fit, or—” Sekkachi started but then Naru hugged it to her chest and grinned.

               “That won’t be necessary!” she announced. “Of course I’m going to keep it. I love it!”

               “Y-you do…?” Sekkachi asked in disbelief. “I-it’s not too big…?”

               Naru rolled her eyes. “You say that as if it’s a problem!” she laughed. “It’s a little big, but that just means I can keep it forever! I won’t have to worry about outgrowing it!” For once, Sekkachi was eternally grateful for Naru’s unending optimism. She sighed and sunk back in her seat, a relieved smile touching her lips, and she realized it was likely the first time she had relaxed since arriving.

               The last present opened was from Rei, which Naru insisted was the way it must be done as she was her best friend. From her, the blonde received a pair of shoes that Naru went wild over. They were chunky and pastel with little pink bows, the exact sort of thing you would expect for Naru. Sekkachi wondered how difficult a time Rei had picking them out, if her comrade had struggled the same way she had. But then again, likely not. Naru and Rei were much closer and had known each other much longer, at least in an amicable sense. They were sharing lunches and having sleepovers while Sekkachi berated them in the academy. It was a level of friendship Sekkachi knew she could never reach.

               “You should eat something!” Naru insisted later that afternoon, motioning toward the grand cake they had cut into. Just the mere sight of it in its sugary glory made Sekkachi’s stomach flip. She hated to deny her, though, and so feeling as if there was nothing else she could do, Sekkachi succumbed.

               "Just a small piece” she insisted, but it was too late. Naru had already cut her a large chunk of cake, strawberry jam oozing from the fluffy layers and thick white icing caked on the sides. She grabbed a fork and stared at her opponent questioningly, thinking to herself If I have to die today, it might as well be by birthday cake. And then, mustering all her strength, she took one large bite.

               As expected, the cake was absolutely delicious. The icing was light and sweet, the strawberry filling perfectly tangy, and the cake itself moist and spongy. Sekkachi fell into it for a moment, closing her eyes and letting herself enjoy the taste. She at least owed herself that much.

               One bite wasn’t so scary. It was the second, third, fourth, and so on that heightened her anxiety. One bite meant just a taste. It was safe, polite, demure. To eat the whole slice was to succumb to gluttony, to jump off the cliff knowing full well she was destined to crash straight into the raging waves below. She wasn’t prepared for the intestinal suicide. She wasn’t prepared to go home early, crawling on her hands and knees, suppressing the impending flare-up. As such, she forced herself to linger. She chewed the prongs of her fork as she pretended to be interested in the small talk about boys and fashion and who’s dating who. Her stomach began to churn.

               “What do you think, Sekkachi?” Naru then asked, snapping her from her daze.

               Sekkachi stammered, her fork falling out of her mouth, bouncing off the edge of the table, and jamming into the dirt. “W-what? About what?” she asked, blinking.

               A sly smile touched Naru’s lips as she rested her chin in her hand. Sekkachi grew weak, the color draining from her face. For a moment, she truly feared for her life. “Well, I was going to ask you if you thought Chikara-sensei was dating anyone, but now I’m curious about what you were thinking about!” she exclaimed. It was too late to try and save face. There was no way she could deny her absentmindedness.

               “I wasn’t thinking about anything…” Sekkachi lied. Panicked, she started shoveling cake into her face. Naru’s grin widened.

               “I guess I should’ve asked who you were thinking about, then! Although I’m pretty sure I already know!” she said. She could hardly suppress her girlish laughter.

               Sekkachi froze, mouth stuffed, and asked in a muffled tone, “Wait, what?” Her cheeks turned bright red. She hadn’t been thinking about anyone. Or at least not during this conversation.

               Rei cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter. This was too rich. Naru beamed as she replied, “We all know you and Guy are secretly an item!”

               Now Sekkachi was choking. The maid raced in to give her the Heimlich and once she had caught her breath, Sekkachi glared at the two of them and asked, “Where the hell did you get an idea like that from?!” The minute the curse word dropped from her lips, Naru’s parents shot her a stunned glare. The other thing about the Fuzuki clan was that they were borderline virginal. Curse words and anything else considered inappropriate within a formal setting was vilified to the extreme.

               Unlike her parents, however, Naru found a certain charm in Sekkachi’s unfiltered language. She had grown quickly accustomed to it, as well, and was therefore totally unphased. She took a sip of her tea, fully prepared to spill whatever she knew and excited to do so, at that. “We all know you meet up with him for weekly sparring matches. You two are so close, it’s only natural to assume you’re dating! Now I’ll admit, I had never pegged Might Guy of all people as your type but whatever you’re into, I guess!”

               “That’s a far-fetched idea” Sekkachi muttered, wiping the crumbs from her mouth. “I swear, Guy is just a friend and nothing more, okay? I don’t understand why you always have to go prying into other people’s business, anyway. People have a right to their privacy, you know.”

               Naru simply giggled and took another sip of her tea. She clearly struck a nerve, meaning that Sekkachi was, in fact, hiding something. It was only instinctual that she would want to figure out what. And truthfully, there was a myriad of things that Sekkachi kept hidden but the most pressing of which had nothing to do with romance. In a quick moment, Sekkachi’s stomach creaked and she could feel her insides rearranging. Fuck. Chewing her bottom lip, she sprang from her seat and hastily bid everyone goodbye, insisting that it was getting late and she had forgotten she had an errand to run for her mother. She booked it out of the Fuzuki household and raced as far down the street as she could manage. She was only halfway home when the pain overtook her and she had to duck into an alleyway to keel over and hyperventilate.

               Her mind raced as she clenched her eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. Deep down, she was cursing the old woman, the matriarch of her clan, about that damn belly button ring. The purpose, she had said, was to redirect her chakra and therefore cure her of her affliction. But here she was two years later and she was still just as sick as ever, if not moreso. She looked left then right, trying to get her bearings on where she was, what was nearby, and where she could find a bathroom she could die in. No luck. Groaning in frustration, she pounded her fist against the ground and curled up into a fetal position. This was it. This was the end. They would find her soiled corpse tomorrow morning when the cloud of flies became unbearable. As she huffed and cursed, however, a familiar voice then rang overhead and she suddenly was unsure whether she was saved or doomed.

               “Sekkachi!” he called, “You’re not looking so good. What’s going on?”

               I’m about to shit my brains out, that’s what’s going on, she thought unkindly. She opened her mouth to speak but could form no words. Fortunately, Guy caught on rather quickly. Without a second’s hesitation, he tossed her onto his back and raced through the streets of Konoha, dodging civilians left and right like a madman, before skidding to a halt in front of the Fumeiyo clan’s grounds. By the time they arrived, Sekkachi was certain she had left her intestines in the dust. It took a few minutes before they finally caught up with her, burying her face into Guy’s shoulder with a groan. He kicked the door open and waltzed inside as if it was his own home, then carried Sekkachi all the way to the bathroom. She slithered out of his grasp and crawled to the toilet, ripping her dress off frantically and shrinking in on herself.

               It was only a few months after they had met that Sekkachi was forced to admit to Might Guy that she was sick. Her thirteenth birthday had just passed and the piercing certainly did not do it’s intended job. She had no choice but to cancel her weekly match, employing the stomach flu as her excuse. At least that way, anyone who attempted to pry wouldn’t believe she was lying. Guy was not one to sit back and do nothing, however. If his dear friend was sick, he would ten to her and ensure that she was healing. He had gathered a colorful bouquet of get-well flowers and a basket of onigiri and set off, a part of him almost too excited to see the look on Sekkachi’s face. She was so coarse and blunt, the thought of doing something to make her happy exhilarated him.

               Her house was nothing like what he expected. Not that his expectations were very high, but this was certainly a shock to his system. The Fumeiyo clan had been historically tread upon for generations, almost as much as the Uchiha, thanks to a long-standing curse that their ninja were liabilities in battle. The working men of the village wanted nothing to do with these harbingers of disaster. As such, their tight-knit clan resided on the outer edge of the village where a stream trickled and weeds grew high. The house itself was in utter disrepair.

               A sour old woman turned Guy away at the front door, insisting he never bother them again. Defeated, he began trudging home but not before the wind carried soft-spoken gossip to his ears. He snuck beneath a window and listened closely as a man and woman discussed Sekkachi’s fate.

               “The outlook is bleak” the man said. “The ritual should have cured her. At this rate, I don’t think she’ll last another year.”

               “That’s not true” the woman replied. “She’s tough. I’m sure she’ll pull through.”

               “Even if she does” the man argued, “what about her quality of life? She’ll never be normal.”

               The woman sighed. “I’d hate to break the news to her. It would break her heart.”

               Guy didn’t stick around long enough to hear the rest. He raced home in a daze, unsure of what he had just heard but knowing full well that none of it was for his ears in the first place. His limbs felt disconnected from his body, and his mind wouldn’t shut up. So she was sick. That much was true. But there was no way this could be a simple stomach flu. If not that, then, with what? And would she ever be cured? He hoped so. She didn’t deserve to suffer. He had so many questions, and he desperately wanted answers, but now was not the right time.

               When she finally returned, Guy was overjoyed. She had pulled through after all. He surged forward and hugged her tight, exclaiming of how much he missed her. Sekkachi cocked a suspicious brow and shoved him off of her. She was sick. So what? It wasn’t that big of a deal. She could tell he was going easy on her as they sparred, however, which only pissed her off that much more.

               “Alright, what is your deal today?” she asked, voice forceful, during a lull in their training. “Why are you going easy on me? Do you think I’m weak or something? Huh? What is it?”

               “N-no!” Guy stammered. “I didn’t mean to, I just--! I didn’t want to push you too far if you were still getting over your sickness!” He knew that, for himself at least, he was willing to strain himself to the utmost limits whether he was feeling well or not. Those were his own self-rules, though—no one else’s. He could never subject those standards onto anyone but himself.

               Sekkachi narrowed her eyes and leaned down so as to get right up close in Guy’s face. “Going easy on me isn’t going to do me any favors” she growled. “I want you to pound me into the dirt, I want you to kick my ass. I want you fight me like a man, got it?”

               “Are you sure?” Guy asked. Sekkachi grimaced, forcing him to quickly add, “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to! I just don’t want to hurt you.”

               “I’m not a fragile piece of glass, Guy” Sekkachi insisted. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t been sick before. What makes this time any different?” Guy averted his eyes, stammering, and Sekkachi could feel her gut drop. “Oh my god, what do you know?” she asked quietly, angry and scared and confused. He was crossing a line she had firmly drawn in the dirt. No one was ever supposed to know about this.

               Back then, the whole thing was so weird. He explained everything quickly and anxiously, almost as if he expected Sekkachi to strike him. Instead, she sunk into the grass in disbelief. It would take her a minute to process all of this information, to process the fact that someone finally knew of her affliction. A charged silence surged between them for a long while before Guy pursed his lips and finally muttered, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I care about you, Sekkachi.”

               Well shit. There was no way out of it now. Sighing, Sekkachi tightened her ponytail and braced herself for the explanation. “Guy, I’m sick” she started. “I’m never going to get better. I’ve got this chronic digestive disorder that makes normal shit a living nightmare. I can’t eat anything without being fucking terrified that it’s going to make me sick. Even if the food itself doesn’t fuck me up, the anxiety does. Sometimes it’s so bad, I pass out from the pain. My clan, they say that these piercings are supposed to help”—here, she motioned to the belly button ring in her stomach— “something about redirecting my chakra to help with the pain. It’s never done any good. My belly button, all the way up my ears, my nose, none of those have helped, and I’m sure anywhere else they try to stick holes in me isn’t going to make much of a difference either. I have to live the rest of my life knowing I will always be dysfunctional. That I’m always going to be sick no matter what. I’m going to have to suffer through every day of the rest of my life.” By now, she was starting to get choked up. This was exactly why she never wanted to say anything. She had already cried in front of Chikara-sensei about it, the night of their very first mission. Food was so culturally significant—existing not just for sustenance, but as a tradition and social ritual. It only emphasized her disability that much more. She hated food. She hated everything about it, the fact that it was so varied and delicious and that she couldn’t have any of it without feeling like she was going to die.

               Guy reached out and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, Sekkachi” he said. “I can’t even imagine how tough that must be to live with every single day…but I know you’re much more than what you’re going through. You may not be able to do ninjutsu or genjutsu, and you may be sick, but you are still one of the strongest ninja I’ve ever known!” Sekkachi rolled her teary eyes and scoffed, confident that that was a lie. Guy chuckled and smiled at her. “And if it means anything, I am going to stick by your side no matter what! Just let me know when you’re feeling sick and what I can do to help and I’ll come running.”

               Sekkachi wiped her nose with the back of her hand and smiled sadly. “You’re way too nice to me, you know” she commented. “You have no reason to be this nice.”

               “Of course I do” Guy replied. “After all, you’re my friend. You might even my best friend! And that’s just what best friends do.”

               From that point onward, Guy’s friendship proved to be indelible to Sekkachi over the years. Guy was certainly a man of his word, and on this blistering summer afternoon he had definitely kept his promise. He stayed in the hallway outside the bathroom the entire time, pacing back and forth on his hands so as to get training in while he was on standby. He refused to walk away and risk not being there if she needed him. During the entirety of her flare-up, however, all she could think about was what Naru had said at that party. Did she really believe her and Guy were a thing? And if she did, then who else had bought into it? A shiver ran down her spine. If only Naru knew how false an accusation that was.

               Guy grinned as the bathroom door creaked open and an exhausted Sekkachi trudged out into the hall. “You okay?” he asked, patting her on the back. There was something so weirdly casual about it, as if he was congratulating her on a good effort in a game of football or something.

               She gave a single, definitive nod as she crossed the hall to her bedroom and began changing into a pair of loose sweatpants. She had no reservations about doing this in front of Guy, and he certainly couldn’t care less. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, tying the drawstring loose around her bloated waist. Guy arched a bushy brow in intrigue. “Do you think people assume we’re dating?”

               “Dating?” Guy repeated. “Why? What gave you that idea?”

               Sekkachi shrugged and seated herself on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow to her stomach. “Some things happened today, some words were said. I don’t want to get into the details. The important thing is that apparently people think we’re something of an item. I guess the minute a guy and a girl start hanging out together, they’re automatically treated like a couple or some shit.”

               Guy shook his head. “Well, this is the first time I’ve heard of this” he replied. Sekkachi wasn’t sure why, but that came as a relief. Maybe because that meant Naru’s rumor wasn’t as widespread as she had feared. If Naru was overcompensating, then perhaps their reputations were saved. “Are you trying to tell me something?” he then asked, cocking a brow in intrigued suspicion.

               Sekkachi didn’t think she could do this anymore. Her hands began to shake at her sides, both an after-effect of the flare-up and a result of her anxiety. She propped open the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, fixing one to her mouth and igniting the end. As she shoved the pack back in the drawer, she propped the window open so as to better dispel the smoke.

               “You really shoulnd’t do that, you know” Guy commented, shaking his head as he took a seat at her desk chair. “Isn’t that going to make you sicker?”

               Sekkachi scoffed. “Sometimes these days, it’s the only thing that makes me feel healthy” she replied. She took a long drag and let the smoke billow up from her lips slowly. Guy couldn’t really see the appeal, but whatever worked for her, he supposed.

               “You never answered my question” he then said. She knew. She wasn’t sure if she could now. “You know you can be honest with me, Sekkachi.”

               “Guy” she sighed, “you are the nicest person I have ever met. Did you know that?” Might Guy smiled back at her. She toyed with the tassels on the edge of the pillow, her cigarette in her opposite hand. She didn’t want to look at him. She was afraid of what he was about to say. “I just need to know…guys always have ulterior motives, you know? They always do things for the sake of getting something out of it for themselves. Usually because they like someone. And I just need to know, and be totally honest with me here, do you…I mean, you don’t—”

               “Sekkachi, I’m going to stop you right there” Guy interrupted, holding up a hand. Sekkachi froze, finally gazing back at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “You know I consider you a good friend of mine. I don’t want a rumor like this to ruin the friendship we have.”

               Relief washed over her, sighing out her cigarette smoke. “That’s good to know” she said. “Because I was so scared you were going to admit that you loved me or something.”

               Guy shook his head. “Sekkachi, I consider you family. I don’t think I could ever think of you like a lover.”

               “Honestly? I feel the same way” Sekkachi admitted. Her hands trembled as she could feel the words rising up in her throat, something she had never before said aloud threatening to spill. She leaned forward and locked eyes on the ground, suddenly very aware she had no control over whether or not she was about to say it. “I love you, but like a brother. You’re always there for me, you’re always pushing me to do better. I feel like I can be open and honest with you. And that’s why…Guy, there’s something I need to tell you.” Guy’s brows raised as he leaned closer, fearing the worst. He knew she was sick, but was it worse than they expected? Was she dying? He needed to know. She took a nervous drag of her cigarette, exhaled, chewed her bottom lip. This was it. Now or never. “Guy, I’m gay. I like girls. I’m a lesbian.”

               Might Guy leaned back a moment, processing the confession. This was a huge moment and he needed to tread carefully. Sekkachi’s leg bobbed up and down on its own accord as she awaited his response. This was killing her. Then suddenly, before she knew it, Guy’s arms were wrapping around her in a tight hug. She blinked a few times, not quite understanding, and then he said, “I’m proud of you, Sekkachi.” Her cigarette snuffed out and fell to the floor as she broke down. No one else knew.

~o~

               “You sure you’re going to be alright?” Guy asked as he walked Sekkachi home. She clung to that little gold foil box, terrified of losing it if it wasn’t in her grasp at all times. As they ascended the stairs, she nodded and then smiled softly at Guy.

               “Yeah, I’ll be alright” she said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

               Deep down, she knew that was impossible for him, but he knew better than to press her. He bid her a brief goodbye and then they parted ways toward their respective apartments. As she reached her front door, however, there was a small basket on her doorstep covered by a gingham dish towel. A small note was folded and placed squarely on the top.

               This was highly unusual for a number of reasons, and for a moment Sekkachi was terrified this was some sort of planned terrorist attack. She wasn’t sure why, exactly, anyone would be targeting her of all people but her anxiety was getting the better of her. She inspected the basket closely only to find that whoever left it was, in fact, trying to kill her. There was nothing but food inside.

               Finding no other choice, Sekkachi kicked her door open with her foot and carried the basket inside, leaving it on her desk. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it for a good long while before finally picking up the note attached. The message was short and simple yet shocking.

               Sorry for your loss. Here is some comfort food. Hope you enjoy. -Mikazuki

               Sekkachi had only met this girl a handful of times, one of Rei and Naru’s comrades in the ANBU, but this seemed wildly uncharacteristic considering her shy demeanor. It also didn’t make any damn sense. There was no reason whatsoever for this girl to be leaving food on a practical stranger’s doorstep. Sekkachi peeled back the dish towel (which she assumed Mikazuki would want back, if only she knew of a way to return it to her) to find a myriad of comfort food inside: onigiri, homemade senbei, manju filled with red bean paste.

               It was a nice gesture, of course, but felt so inappropriate. I hope she knows all of this is going to go to waste, Sekkachi thought to herself. She couldn’t eat any of it even if she wanted to. Or perhaps she was just being difficult. Deep down, she knew many of these foods were actually rather palatable for even her hypersensitive stomach. She supposed she feared that eating it would mean accepting whatever ulterior motive Mikazuki was after. There was no way she was doing this just to be kind.

               Sekkachi looked down to the little gold foil box in her hands and sighed. When did life become so damn complicated? If Naru was still alive, none of this would be happening. The memories of that birthday party were still so vivid in her mind. They were so young and stupid, so naïve. If only the three of them knew what was waiting around the corner. And then of course her mind leapt to Rei. A seething rage bubbled up inside of her chest at the thought of her. This was all her fault. Breaking up with Kakashi was almost deserved. A solid punishment for everything she had done. And yet…she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around why Rei would go to the trouble of relaying her this box. She popped open the lid and watched the single earring roll around inside. It almost made her nauseous. Perhaps so many years spent working together left Rei and Sekkachi far more telepathic than they had expected. Sekkachi rose from her seat, box in tow, and approached her desk, opening the top drawer and pulling out an identical aquamarine stud. How the two earrings got separated, Sekkachi would never know. Naru had a strange way of organizing her belongings, sometimes meticulously color coded and other times a complete mess. None of that mattered now, though. All that was important was that the pair was back together, and it was all because of Rei.

               Sekkachi clutched the earrings in her fist and sucked in a sharp breath. Nothing was ever going to repay what Rei had done, yet perhaps she had been too hasty. Naru was gone. All they had left now was each other. Her eyes shifted to the framed photograph on her desk of the three of them when they were just genin, so bright and happy and confident. She grazed the glass over Naru’s image, tightened her grip on the earrings, let the stones press into her the flesh of her palm, and then truly let herself break down.

Oof I'm gonna be totally honest with you guys, this was a REALLY difficult chapter to write. I really wanted to explore the origins of Guy and Sekkachi's friendship, but more importantly Sekkachi's illness. Her chronic illness is based on my own so all of her struggles with food and her digestive system hit really close to home, and it was EXTREMELY hard to try and find the line between being honest but tasteful and being gross and way too honest about the literally shitty experience of having a sickness like this. I just hope I did it justice.

[crushallthehearts]

Ranting

I’m getting this out because it’s important to me,even though it’s extremely toxic and unnecessary and I wish I didn’t react at all.

Heres a comprehensive list of all the reasons I hate you,since I haven’t made myself crystal fucking clear apparently.

- Originally you had an issue with me. You did not confront me about it,you took it straight to social media. You also hid it away expecting me not to see it,I saw it and had to confront you first. That makes you two faced,a coward,and just a straight up bitch.

- You hold how I acted that night over my head,rubbing my actions in my face. But the thing is,I've apologised(sincerely) for it,and I've learned. It was wrong of me to try to make someone interact with anyone they don't want to regardless of why they don't. It pushes boundaries that I have no right to even question. Even if it splits the group. Even if everyone else in the group is fine with it but one person. Even if I think its stupid and ridiculous,that's why it's not my boundry I guess.I love my friends and my family and don't want them uncomfortable that's why I haven't forced any meetings since that point,I haven't tried to make anyone change their mind,and I tell everyone who will be there at a get together so they can stay back if they want. I have no issues anymore with anyone because I take things like this and I learn and grow,I admit when I am wrong and I do better,but you don't and you won't see that.

-You have used screenshots from 4 FUCKING YEARS ago in an attempt to hurt my feelings at best and make me break up with my fiance,or maybe it was an eye for an eye type of thing at worst. Revealing your big "truth". You act like this was just a big weight on your chest and that you just “had to tell the truth”. You had 4 years for that but you looked me in the face and didn’t say shit until you got pissy. Again,you’re a coward and a bad friend.

-On that stupid note, okay,something did happen between you and my fiance, so why the fuck would you have the audacity to continue to hang around with him in front of me?If you knew you were the “other woman” and it just burdened your little “empathetic” soul so bad,why wouldn’t you just quietly cut ties and go somewhere else? There are plenty of other people to be friends with. I wouldn’t be able to look any girl in the eyes if I ever found out I was the other woman,let alone pretend to be a friend to her and not let her know right away,but I suppose thats a big difference between someone that is empathetic and someone who pretends to be because it fits her victim complex. You know what happens when a real empath hurts someone who is innocent,intentionally or not?It makes us soul sick,you cannot just bury it and pretend it didn’t happen. Your mind WILL not let you. Why do you think I couldn’t let you guys talk shit about my friend in front of me?Why do you think I thought this might happen if I spoke up and did it anyway?Because I can’t let bad things happen to good people,it almost physically pains me to stand by and do nothing to protect innocent people even if it costs me dearly like it has. Im still glad for speaking up that night even though it caused all this,in my mind,it is still absolutely worth it because my friend was attacked for reasons beyond his control,for being himself,and for getting fucked over.

-I hate you because you acted like you and you know who were just so close,but you fucked her man behind her back too. You wanted his dick the whole time,and you just laid in wait for them to break up because you know he can’t keep it in his fucking pants. I also know that it was him that brought you around to start with,not my friend that you blaimed your plague on my life for. Because I guess just admitting you started out in the group as a fuck toy and nothing more is a harsh reality to accept and gives you no real ground to stand on.

-You also talked so much shit about my friend behind his back and tried to apologise for treating him so fucking unfairly afterwords like it was cool because you thought you had given it enough time to blow over. Know that because he told me. I hope you know he had nothing bad to say about you,even after all that. Even after you villanized him with straight up lies to fit your argument. He had been nothing but a friend to you and you attacked him over and over. He didn’t know why he was being attacked and singled out,and you just let him feel like shit because it fit your agenda at the moment,not very “empathetic” of you now is it? Oh,and now since he didn't accept your insincere apology you're back to dragging him though the mud.

-You talked shit about me behind my back with anyone that would listen,claiming I wasn’t worth the truth but in reality it’s because you’re a horrible person,and again,a fucking coward. But thanks,you exposed some fake ass people to me so I guess you almost did me a favor by sending screenshots and trying to hurt me.(Or telling,"the truth" as you like to call it)

-You preach of loyalty and yet cheat on your man constantly. That poor dude is so used to being Eskimo brothers with all his friends and it sickens me that you treat someone you claim to love like that. He only gets part of you and he’s stuck by all your insanity for over a decade now and he just has to accept that or you will leave. I wonder how many STD’s you’ve brought back home to him as a reward for him trusting you too much? At least one,and probably many more. You are more than likely the main cause of all his issues or at least a big part of them. I dated someone just like you for two years and it drove me nuts,I can’t imagine what he’s going though after 10. Not that you give a shit,because like everyone else,he’s hurt you too and I bet you think he deserves it.

-Another difference between you and I is that I have been cheated on in every single relationship I've ever been in, and yet not once did I ever cheat back in revenge. I can't hurt people who have my heart like that. I just let them do what they did,and cast them away permanently when I cant take giving so many chances anymore. When I am with someone I love with my whole heart,with everything I have,and you can think that makes me stupid or naieve but when I leave a realtionship I get to leave it saying I did my best and got fucked over anyway,and if they couldn't see what they had then it's because they didn't want to. My loyalty in relationships in unfaltering even if the loyalty isn't mutual,and it's something I've always taken pride in,it's also another thing you have no concept of.

-You’ve called me every name in the book. Put so many daggers in my back,and in all of my friends backs that I’ve lost count of them,and then YOU act like a victim. Im just the big,bad narcissist attacking you for fun, right?Are you putting reasons why I am still so mean to you together now?Finally all clicking?Probably not lol but this is fun,let’s continue.

-Somehow you just can’t correlate the negative interactions you have with others and you being a shit person and I just dont understand how you could ever be so blind. Sometimes when everyone else is the problem,YOU’RE THE PROBLEM. Guess how many problems I have had with people since I was in highschool up until all this went down?That’s right,none. You seem to be the only denominator in this little equation.

-I just wish you would fuck off permanently,and let me fucking heal from all of this shit,but you just refuse to. I still get screenshots from my friends of you talking shit. You stalk my social media looking for anything that could even mildly be related to you,openly mock me,and if I fight back then it’s because I’m a bully. But I guess I always have been known for bullying the bully,so I guess that’s a fair title. I wish I could take back the few months we actually did talk back,I should have just continued barely acknowledging your existence in my life and I wouldn't have had to have dealt with you now. Out of everything that happened,that is my one regret,the one thing that upsets me more than anything else. The psuedo "friendship" we were beginning to build. The fact that I even let it happen still makes me disgusted with myself when I think of what you have shown yourself to really be. You turned so quickly,you attacked so viciously,and I left myself wide open for it. I damn myself everyday for trying to understand and connect with you instead of taking you for what I thought at first glance. I allowed myself to get covered with your toxic bullshit and now its poisoning me and your doing just fine because your whole life is just a pile of toxic waste anyway.

Ok,I'm done now.

[thedumblyfe]

9.13.17

38th day of age 23

I'm tired. tonight seems as though nothing in my life is ever going to go in my way. I can observe 3 outcomes that have put me into feeling this way.

1.) I'm starting to really hate my job. Granted, it pays well for an unskilled job (waitressing) and if everything goes normally it's honestly stress-free no matter how many customers we receive. Every day we receive between 400-500 customers I kid you not, but it's not even the customers that give me the downhard feeling about work, it's honestly the management. They seemed extremely nice but there were many instances in which I realize that I'm just really in the palm of some employer's hand. For example this one time it was very late at night and we had already closed the store, however my manager lets in a party of 2, 3, and then a 4 at around 10:37pm (we close at 10:30pm) and I couldn't get out of work until after 11:45pm. It pissed me off because we are technically not allowed to serve customers but she did it anyway. Most of us has to return to work the very next day, which meant that it was probably a less than 6-hour sleep until they had to come back before 10am. Second, my other "manager" you can say, though she really isn't but she's basically one level lower, keeps fucking busting my ass for stupid fucking shit it's ridiculous. One, I was sick for an entire WEEK of work and I couldn't find covers because we were THAT understaffed. So when I call in to call out she picks up the phone and just tells me "well then if you don't come in who can?". Typical retail environment bullshit right? Whatever. What really grinds my gears is that when I tell you that all of the ppl I called who can possibly cover me for these shifts can't because they're unavailable or they just don't want to do it (because honestly fuck that place now), she has the audacity to get MADDER at me and literally like threaten me "then who can cover you huh?". What? You are like a 40+ year old woman. I don't care if you're upset or angry, but in my position, I had an extremely bad viral infection in the lungs which caused me to be bedridden for 4 days, to the point where it got so bad that I had asthma attacks every 10 seconds and could not properly breathe. I was literally gasping for air but I couldn't because there's obviously mucus in my lungs so my boyfriend was kind enough to come all the way from Long Island to grab me to take me to the hospital. And this cunt is telling me to literally come in because I couldn't find myself a cover? No fucking joke I thought she was being hella absurd but she CONTINUED, to the point where when the call ended I just didn't bother to pick up the phone, no matter how many times it rang. I was sick (literally) and tired of her bullshit because this wasn't the first time she pulled this kind of shit on me. One time she asked me right on the spot when I entered the restaurant to work if I wanted to take her dinner shift that day because she herself was "feeling very unwell and needed to go home". I was super fucking hesitant because I was already working a lunch shift there so taking this on would mean that I would have to commit to not a 5 hour work day, but a 14 hour work day. But she was all acting and bending down, messaging her back or whatever she was doing to make me feel hella uncomfortable to the point where I just said yes. That was my mistake because it became really crowded that day and while she was working she did everything fine. In fact, she was so fucking happy and joyful, like there was no pain in anywhere in her body and when she went home I just fucking KNEW that I ended up with the shorter end of the stick. Just today, when I enter the store to start my lunch shift one coworker told me that she was being really mad at me yesterday (when I wasn't in the shift) because I didn't close my section at all. BULLSHIT. It's bad to say but I am a perfectionist by heart and if one little detail goes by me, whether that meant I didn't clean one dish or I didn't windex the glass on the fridge properly, I myself go insane. I'm not doing it because I fucking LOVE working at my job, but it's just my nature to not let anything unnoticed. So I get fucking annoyed when my coworker literally told me that she said that I didn't do anything to close my section last Sunday and then took it another step further to tell THE MANAGERS during the server meetings that I didn't fucking do shit. What???? I take PRIDE in how hard I work and now this bitch is going to lie to my managers even though I'm literally the hardest working employee there just because now this bitch doesn't like me? I can't take it. I let my closer co-worker know about how I felt and she told me that this woman literally picks favorites all the time and now I'm just getting the shorter end of the stick.

Long story short, I'm just really fucking annoyed right now because the management in the company doesn't look promising. They look down on me for mistakes that THEY make, and in these particular cases they are understaffed because they obviously want to cut salary (they even took away some of my shifts because I was covering someone else who went to vacation??) or because this bitch is straight out lying to them because she literally does not like me. Who wants to work in an environment like that? And besides, why am I still here taking this shit? 2.) Drawing. Taking a drawing course right now which my friend spread the work in her facebook and I'm kind of discouraged. Not because I think that my art is good because it's not at all and not because I don't know that I just need to improve and take my time to practice to get better. It's just hard because when I spent more than 15 hours out of my 50hr/work week for the assignment just to know like 4 weeks later that it's actually absolute garbage just makes you feel bad. And I know it's one of those "oh he's just telling you what you need to work on, you're not perfect keep trying"-kinds of things and like I said before I know my art is shit because I never properly went to school for it, but it just puts these little voices in your head like "oh maybe this is really just a hobby thing, don't have to take it so seriously" or like "and because it's a hobby thing, it's not going to amount to anything better in the future. Maybe you're just amateur forever". And I just get discouraged, a lot in fact. And I KNOW it's just my part to just keep trying, but I'm not going to just "keep trying" when maybe it'll literally lead me to nowhere in life, like what gymnastics had taken away from me. That shit took 15 years of my own life away from me and it resulted into what? Becoming a waitress at a cheapass Japanese-run Restaurant? Hell no.

3.) I'm just losing a lot of games in League. I know this is probably the most ridiculous reason to think that nothing in my life is going my way, but adding the two reasons above with this one just makes my anxiety about my future roll down the hill even faster. Because if I really think about it, I've played this game for more than 3 years now and where am I? I'm literally in the same place, if not a little better but probably by only one rank then when I was back 3 years ago. Again, this is probably really fucking stupid to worry about but it just ties into like my drawing anxiety and how what if I spend literally 3 years on drawing instead and STILL be in the same exact place where I'm at will I have accomplished anything at all? And when I ask myself this question, I'm really asking myself "What exactly have I accomplished in my life in general?"

Job prospects: Being a forever waitress at a job I hate with little to no chance of promotion, not even becoming a manager. Drawing prospects: Being literally bad at drawing, but still (maybe) have a potential to grow, but having to force yourself to invest your time, money, and effort to do so Life's prospects: Am I taking any steps to get out of my situation right now?

I completely understand that right now I'm just ranting like I normally do and I have everything in my power to switch my life around. However tonight it just feels really tough on me specifically for these three reasons alone.