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yuta1forme · 4 years ago

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like magnets | ten

summary: in which you and ten are up and coming choreographers who are forever at each other’s throats. but maybe fighting is just an excuse to get close.

pairing: ten x reader

genre: angsty fluff

warnings: some swearing, alcohol mention, loads of bickering

length: 4.3k

tag list: @sly-merlin @animegirl366 @yonoohcore

He’s confident to the point of arrogance. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. When the pair of you start fighting, all the other dancers make their way out of the studio, not wanting to get involved in another explosive Y/N-Ten showdown. He counters your every suggestion. He always has more critique for your performances than praise.

And yet, he is the best dance partner you could ever ask for. He matches your poise with his passion. In dance, you both have found a middle ground.

When Ten first joined the studio you really wanted to like him. He was a young, up and coming dancer from Thailand. What you had not seen coming was that besides being the same age, you and Ten had precious little in common. The day you first met Ten, you had decided in less than ten seconds that you two would never, to put this lightly, become the “best of friends”.

You had entered the break room of the studio that day, late and soaking wet because of the heavy downpour that had begun the night before. Hungry and disgruntled, all you had wanted to do was to grab a steaming cup of green tea and the last of your favorite jelly doughnuts. Only the thought of those jelly doughnuts had you hanging on during your hour and forty-five-minute long journey to work this morning. They were your emotional support food, your one and only indulgence. After almost three years at the studio, all the other dancers knew not to touch your jelly doughnuts. All except for the bucket-hat wearing Thai newbie who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo.

“Those were my doughnuts”, you had barely managed to huff out, focusing your mind on not raising your voice or worse, bursting into tears.

Now, if he had just apologized for eating them without asking you first, you both might not have started off on the wrong foot. No, the fucker just shrugged and said, “Didn’t see your name on them”. No shame in his eyes, not an ounce of regret in his voice. The powdered sugar from your doughnuts still around his mouth and dusted over his all-black ensemble. That fucker.

“So people just waltz into a room and eat someone else’s snacks where you��re from?”, you asked, your pitch becoming shriller with annoyance.

“No of course not. Because where I’m from, people don’t leave their snacks where everyone can see them, without putting their name on it first”, he replied, cool as a cucumber.

Taeyong had entered the break room at this point. He took one look at the powdered sugar on Ten’s face and the eyes-gonna-pop-out expression on yours and connected the dots. As one of the senior choreographers in the studio, Taeyong had developed a sixth sense for sniffing out conflicts before they broke out.

“Y/N! I see you’ve already met Ten! He’s the new dancer from Thailand. Ten this is Y/N”, Taeyong had prompted by way of introductions, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and inching closer to the door he had entered from.

“Oh, you’re Y/N. The one who choreographed the last Pink Cashmere comeback, right?”, Ten had asked, suddenly sitting up straight. Seeing that your conversation was turning civil, Taeyong had left the room just as quietly as he had entered it.

“Yes, that would be me”, you had responded. That was your first time working with an idol group and was a milestone in your career. You had spent weeks running on pure adrenaline and Americanos (and the occasional jelly doughnut), spending day and night listening to the new comeback track, reviewing concept photos and looking up old performances to get their style down just right. When you watched the girls perform the choreography for the first time, you were so immensely proud of yourself, you hadn’t stopped beaming for days.

“I should’ve known it was you, it had your signature footwork style all over it”, Ten had said, nodding his head slightly. You had felt flattered at that, surprised that anyone had even picked up that you had a certain trademark in your choreography.

“But, I thought it was too showy if you know what I mean”, Ten had continued, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, a slight frown on his face.

You were almost embarrassed at how much his words affected you. While you were used to internet trolls taking jabs at your work, it was something entirely different to hear full-blown criticism from your peers. As the youngest choreographer in the studio, you rarely got challenged when it came to choreography, with most of your colleagues wholeheartedly encouraging you to spread your wings and grow no matter the outcome. It probably was not intentional on their part but it had become a fear of yours - what if nobody would outwardly challenge your decisions because they thought you were too weak to handle the truth?

Still, you felt a need to defend your creative decision. You needed to stand up for yourself. “The girls are great dancers and I thought a more challenging choreography would push them out of their comfort zone. Sooji and Maya were actually part of a hip-hop dance crew pre-debut. They were itching to try out a new concept”.

“But why not use more formations in the dance? It’s an eight-member group. You could’ve used that to your advantage”, Ten had countered. He made a good point. But you didn’t want to concede to him. Who did this man think he was? Walking in here and questioning your vision as a choreographer?, you though to yourself.

“Most of the other girl groups that came back around that time had similar songs but only Pink Cashmere had a distinct choreography. I wanted to make their choreography memorable”, you had said.

Ten had remained quiet for a while. “I didn’t think of it that way”, he had replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “In that case, I think you succeeded at whatever you set out to do with that choreography. It was definitely memorable, Y/N.”

He turned his gaze up towards your face and flashed you a sweet smile. He looked like a whole different person, almost innocently brushing powdered sugar off his cheeks like a mischievous cat who had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done.

Your whole first interaction with Ten had confused you. First he walked in acting like he owned the place, critiquing your choreography as if he was a veteran dancer. But then he had just as easily praised your abilities. But at the back of your mind you had this nagging feeling that whatever Ten had said to you was not in an effort to undermine you, unlike some of the backhanded compliments delivered by your peers. He had criticized you because he thought you could take it, because he thought of you as an equal. And you kind of enjoyed that.

Arguing with Ten became a part of your everyday routine thereafter. So did labelling your snacks with your names and leaving passive-aggressive messages on post-it notes.

At nineteen, you gave up a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious law school in your country and moved to Seoul with a single suitcase and your old school backpack in hand. Your family had threatened to cut off contact with you if you left the country, but you left anyway; Your passion for dance was stronger than your fear of losing them. Dance was your first love. You lived and breathed it. Like hell were you giving up on your first love that easy.

You worked odd jobs during the day and filmed original choreographies for your YouTube channel during the night. After struggling for over a year, your hope slowly dwindling, you got a notification that changed your life. Kim Jongin, one of South Korea’s ballet prodigies had shared one of your videos on Twitter. Your subscriber count had quadrupled overnight, with hundreds of thousands of commenters dubbing you a “prodigy”. Fate brought you to Jongin, who then introduced you to Taeyong, who brought you to SM studios.

It was a dream come true - for years you had only struggled, floating in dark and murky water, swimming forward towards a hazy future. Now, you had thousands of fans, dozens of supportive friends, and a solid foundation from where you could dream. Your friend Hendery liked to joke that you would need more than twenty-four hours a day if you wanted to do everything in your planner. And truth be told, he was right. You had given up a lot to pursue your dreams. Given up on your family, most of your friends, your home country. You wanted to make sure it was all worthwhile. So you wanted to spend every day making the most of the opportunities that you now had. You went to bed each night with a head full of ideas and woke up every morning with the fire to bring them to life.

Of course, dedicating your life to your craft came at a cost. The rest of the world had not stopped moving just because you decided to make dance your life. This dawned on you one rosy Valentine’s Day evening, when you, date-less for the fifth year running, quite naively decided to scroll through Instagram. Amongst the sea of pink, flowers and picture-perfect happy couples were two faces that made your stomach instantly drop - your ex and a stunning woman posing for the camera with their fingers intertwined. On her ring finger, a diamond the size of a blueberry.

You remember the day you broke things off with your ex like it was yesterday. You were at the airport, waiting to get on your flight to Seoul, positively buzzing with nerves. You had waited until you were seated on the plane to send your ex a rather heartless text message saying you were breaking up with him to find yourself and that it was best if he forgot you. Very dramatic, even for you. But you were nineteen and had just watched ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’. In return he had left you an equally dramatic voicemail, pleading with you to not end the relationship and proclaiming that he would never stop loving you. You had all but laughed at his message then.

You weren’t laughing anymore though. He was happily engaged, while you were lonely, lying in bed on Valentine’s day in a pizza grease-stained sweatshirt. You had spent the last few years working relentlessly which had given you a career that you could be proud of, friends you could rely on. But besides the occasional fling here and there, you didn’t have much in terms of a romantic life. You guessed you deserved this, that karma had finally caught up to you. Didn’t stop you from feeling like shit though.

So you did what you always did when you felt particularly shitty. You went down to the studio, turned the music on full blast and dove right into a new choreography. You were freestyling, too lost in the moment to hear the door creak open.

“I gotta hand it to you, Y/N, that was pretty impressive!”, a male voice exclaimed. You had spun around expecting to see Sicheng or Hendery at the door. Instead, you were met with a tired but rather amused looking Ten.

He was dressed in a white silk shirt and a pair of black slacks. You noticed the roses in his hands, slightly wilted but still beautiful nonetheless. He was clearly dressed up for a date. He looked striking as always but you didn’t linger too long on that, thinking that it was your romance deprived mind projecting thoughts onto the first attractive male it saw.

“What are you doing here? It’s Valentine’s day, don’t you have a crowd of screaming fans to attend to?”, you asked sarcastically.

“One date. And they stood me up, actually”, he replied with a bitter smile. He must have been quite upset if he didn’t have a snarky response for you.

You were truly taken aback. Ten? Getting stood up by someone? Ten, who could charm the socks off of anyone he set his eyes on, getting stood up on Valentine’s day?

“But how?”, you blurted out, instantly regretting it when you saw the quizzical look on Ten’s face. Yet you foolishly continued mumbling, or rather digging yourself deeper into a hole.

“I mean, you’re just...so...you”, you said vaguely gesturing at his whole form. From his boyish good looks to his ability to sweet-talk, Ten’s charms were undeniable. Ever since he joined the studio, the number of signups for the afternoon classes had doubled. Dozens of people would come to the studio every day, just to catch a glimpse of him. And he indulged them all too, flashing them his signature grin or paying them a cheeky compliment. If only you weren’t all too familiar with the way he could run his mouth during an argument, you too might have fallen for his charms.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Y/N, but I’m not quite the Casanova you expected me to be. But I will take that as a compliment”, he said with a wink that had you resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here though”, you mumbled out.

“I like to choreograph at night. I think I’m my most creative after midnight. Besides I just got my heart broken and I should channel that emotional energy somewhere right?”, Ten said feigning nonchalance. You could tell he was genuinely upset from how his night had played out and couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

“Well, I’m here for reasons along similar lines. You could join me? Help me choreograph this new freestyle piece I’m working on?”, you had asked.

Ten cocked his eyebrow at you, clearly not expecting you to extend an olive branch to him in this manner given how you were still being snarky with him five minutes ago. But he accepted your offer nonetheless.

You both entered your element pretty quickly, letting the music move your body freely. You worked out a simple choreography, cheering for each other when you came up with a particularly impressive move. You were having fun, even though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. At least you hadn’t thought of your ex in the last couple of hours, mind completely occupied with the thought that you and Ten surprisingly made good dance partners. Perhaps the friction between the two of you translated to great chemistry when you were dancing. Taeyong would be pleased to know that.

“I’m beat”, you exclaimed, slumping down on the floor after the final round of practice. Ten sat down next to you, resting his back against the mirrored wall. The pair of you sat wordlessly for a few minutes, letting your heartbeats slow back down. You lay flat on the floor, too physically exhausted to move. As soon as you closed your eyes, your traitorous mind brought back the images of your ex’s engagement and you groaned loudly.

“Long day?”, Ten asked, giving you a slightly concerned look. You just chuckled bitterly in response.

“Want to talk about it?”, Ten pried in an almost uncharacteristically gentle voice. You wondered if he had ever spoken to you in that tone before.

“I don’t know if we’re close enough to have little heart-to-hearts yet Ten”, you replied. There was an invisible wall between you and Ten that you were just not ready to tear down. The thought of sharing embarrassing details about your love life with someone you could consider a frenemy at best, too jarring. You didn’t miss the way Ten’s shoulders slightly slumped at that. You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, yet you felt somewhat guilty.

“But…maybe we are close enough to have a drink together?”, you asked, suddenly emboldened by a rush of confidence that confused even you. You took his cheeky smile as a yes.

You spent the rest of the night drunk and giggling with Ten. The thoughts of your ex were long forgotten. Perhaps you could learn to do more than merely tolerating Ten’s presence. Perhaps you could learn to enjoy his presence too.

Soon it became a ritual - if you and Ten were the last ones left in the studio, you would grab some beers and head to the roof. It was such strange departure from your usual selves that you often wondered why it was so easy for you to enjoy his company sitting under the stars like this when you would be at each other’s throats the rest of the time.

Over time your conversations had gone from discussions about art, to plans of travelling the world, what you were currently binge-watching on Netflix, and everything in between. Still, there were some topics that you both steered clear of - talk of family and love lives was seemingly off the table.

Until one night after a couple of drinks, when Ten pulled his phone out to show you a picture of two women, one older and one younger. The striking resemblance between the faces in the photo and Ten confirmed that they were indeed his mother and sister. His sister was clad in a dark blue graduation gown and his mother was holding a beautiful bouquet of light pink roses.

“She graduated last week, my baby sister”, Ten said practically glowing. The proud look on his face was a testament to the close relationship he had with his sibling.

“You must miss her a lot”, you said, voice barely a whisper.

“All the time. My family are my biggest supporters. I don’t think I would have had the courage to move out here on my own if it weren't for their encouragement”, Ten answered.

You hadn’t spoken to your family ever since you came to Seoul. In the past, the longing left a pressure in your chest that sometimes made it feel like your throat would close, choking you on your guilt. Now, it just left you numb.

“What about you?”, Ten asked, cautiously prying into your personal life.

“What about me?”, you countered, diverting your gaze away from the man sitting next to you, instantly wary of how much you wanted to share about your past.

“What about your family? Your old home?”, Ten asked.

It couldn’t hurt sharing with Ten, right? It’s not like what he thought of you really mattered to you. Right?

“I actually don’t keep in touch with my family any more. They weren’t too keen on me becoming a dancer. It’s been, what, three? Three and a half years since I last saw them. When I first left home for Seoul”, you said, trying your hardest to suppress any trace of emotion in your voice. You kept your gaze focused on the city skyline ahead of you, too afraid to turn and see the expression on Ten’s face. You wondered what he thought of you, whether he thought you were stubborn. Worse yet, whether he pitied you.

After a few moments, Ten broke the silence. “I guess sometimes, not having a family is better than having one that doesn’t love you for who you are. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t possibly know how you must have felt, all these years. But I want you to know that the people who love you now, love you without any agenda. Not because they are related to you by blood, not because they are obligated to love you. But because they just love you”, Ten said, eyes shining with an emotion you didn’t know how to react to.

“And they could be your family too”, he finished in a voice that was so warm, so gentle, you wondered if this really was the Ten who stole your jelly doughnuts when you first met.

You were speechless, processing his words for what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds. Then you did the only thing your impulsive mind could think to do - you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. In response, he wrapped you up in his embrace. You stayed still, focusing on the faint scent of his cologne on the sleeves of his hoodie. You breathed out a thank you, soft as a whisper. Whether or not Ten heard you, he moved his left arm slightly, gently stroking your hair and continued to chatter on about some entirely different topic.

You knew that once the sun came back up and both of you returned to your lives inside the studio, this little moment would not be brought up in front of anyone else. That moment was just for the two of you to share and bury deep within your hearts.

You knew you were in too deep one day when Ten gave you a friendly smile in passing while making his way to the break room, and you felt your cheeks and neck heat up. You had finally let the Thai dancer charm his way into your heart.

Typical Y/N, you thought to yourself, Falling in love with any cute boy who gives you attention. But he wasn’t just any cute boy. It was Ten. Ten, your frenemy turned close confidant. Ten, who would send you pictures of cute animals he saw on the street just because you once told him you wanted to adopt a cat. Ten, who took you dancing to a club in Hongdae when you were feeling low and all but carried your drunk ass back to your home. Ten, who over the last couple of months had heard every single one of your deepest insecurities and had still chosen to stick by you. Ten who had just left a box of jelly doughnuts in the break room, next to a post-it note with your name on it. To make matters worse, you were supposed to start working on a new collaboration together this week, a contemporary piece set to an R&B slow jam. How were you meant to work with him all week when you could barely make eye contact with him? You had to physically restrain yourself from facepalming.

You spent the week, evading conversation with him beyond work and some small talk to fill the silence. But none of your usual banter. You had even turned down his suggestion to grab dinner together several times that week, to the point that even typically non-confrontational Sicheng had picked up that something was off.

“Why have you been avoiding Ten all week? I thought you guys had given up fighting?”, Sicheng asked after he cornered you one day.

“Avoiding him? Now, why would I do that when we’ve been working together all week?”, you had chuckled nervously, desperately looking for an out from this conversation.

“He’s been sulking around since Tuesday, Y/N. He said he doesn’t know what he did to upset you”, Sicheng had asked you sharply.

The guilt in your eyes must have been apparent because Sicheng dropped his voice into a gentle whisper for what he said next.

“I know the two of you are as good at dancing around your feelings as you are at dancing on stage. But maybe try talking to him, Y/N? I think right now, you two might have more in common than you think”, Sicheng told you as he gave you a knowing look.

The day of the performance shoot came and there was a noticeable awkwardness between you and Ten. You decided to cut the tension by apologizing to him, citing the nerves for the performance as the reason you had been on edge the whole week. Whether or not Ten believed you, he accepted your apology and wrapped you up in his arms. You wished you had psychic abilities so you could read his mind. Did he have the same butterflies in his stomach right now?

As soon as the music started any nervousness you felt around Ten melted away. Dancing with him was like second nature to you by now. The song started with you on stage alone, dancing under the single spotlight illuminating the stage. You could see him out of the corner of your eyes, following your every move and observing you with nothing short of adoration. You left the stage for Ten’s solo and you could feel the goosebumps on your skin from watching him perform. He was absolutely stunning, moving fluidly through the movements as though he was painting with his body on the canvas of the stage. You joined him on stage for the chorus, dancing apart but facing one another as though mirroring the other’s movements. Through the bridge you inched closer and closer to one another. You felt your heartbeat beginning to rise from the proximity.

Both of you could communicate with each other with your eyes alone. You danced perfectly in sync with one another, pulling apart only to fall right back into each other, just like magnets. So different yet inseparable. You could see it in his eyes, when he looked at you, that the emotion in his mirrored yours. You knew you weren’t imagining it when he audibly gasped as you melted into his embrace for the final move. His heartbeat was racing a hundred miles an hour, just like yours. The pair of you stood there, lips just a few millimeters apart, breathing deeply as the studio erupted into thunderous applause. You were no longer afraid to admit to yourself and to the world, that you had it bad for Ten Lee.

And when he kissed you on the rooftop that night, you knew that he had it bad for you too.

#ten #ten scenarios #ten angst #ten fluff #ten imagines #nct #wayv #nct ten #wayv ten #nct scenarios #nct imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #wayv angst #wayv fluff #moonrise

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askaceattorney · 4 years ago

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Turnabout Memories

Hello and hap’piraki, everyone!

(Whoa... Déjà vu.)

Now that we’re finally nearing the end of this (*twitch, twitch*) year, and now that I’m preparing to step off this blog for a time, I’d like to take a moment to reminisce about all the ground we’ve covered since the day I first discovered the uniquely fun experience of Ask Ace Attorney.

It all began a few years ago when...

Oh, right -- this’ll probably be pretty lengthy, so I’ll continue below the cut.

It all began a few years ago when I discovered Ask Ace Attorney through a Google search. I don’t remember most of the details, but when I first found out about a blog that attempts to bring video game characters to life through blog posts and the power of imagination, I thought the idea was both strange...and amazing.

I’d only recently started getting into Ace Attorney at the time (after seeing Matthew Taranto’s hilarious mashup between it and the Kirby series), so I decided to send in a few letters and see if they’d get an answer. Sure enough, a few months later, I saw the first response to one of them! It was a pretty exciting feeling, to say the least.

I’d share that letter response here, but unfortunately, it included my real name, so we’ll have to save it for later. For now, here are a couple of the earliest ones from me: a deeply emotional one from Dahlia to Iris (a little far-fetched, maybe, but I CAN SEE IT HAPPENING, THE MOD), and a short, punny one from Moe to Phoenix. Not surprisingly, I enjoyed seeing the characters react to them in ways I found believable as much as I enjoyed writing these and several other letters. I knew the Mod (the only moderator here at the time) wasn’t affiliated with Capcom, but his character portrayals were spot-on each time, and my creative spark and love for Ace Attorney received some constant fuel for a while thanks to this blog.

And then...this happened. For a brief moment, I thought about how fun it would be to see if I could do what the Mod had been doing for so long, but then I decided it’d probably be better to leave it in someone else’s hands. Sure, I was a huge fan of Ace Attorney and its loveable characters, but did I really love them enough to pretend to be them on a hugely popular blog? Naaah.

I went over the rest of that story once before, so I’ll just give a brief recap here: my friend the Modthorne won the audition to become the next de Modder, I asked her if I could join, and then it ended up just being me here, followed by Mods Paups, Kristoph, and Maya. That’s the way we became the Ask Ace Attorney bunch.

So, when I first made my debut as the Commode Co-Mod, my only real strategy for answering letters was to emulate the Mod's style. I honestly wondered if I could accurately portray so many different personalities in a believable way, but, with a few hiccups along the way, I somehow managed to pull it off to some degree. I also started developing my own style and becoming less conscientious about how my portrayals looked (that definitely took some time, though), and worrying less about the blog’s popularity and overall performance review. That, I believe, was a big part of what made both of those steadily rise over time, until we ended up reaching and surpassing 12,000 followers! (I’m still geekin’ out about that one.) Just relaxing and going with the flow made things a lot easier for me, and apparently helped Ask Ace Attorney reach its current level of popularity. Something tells me that choice paid off in the end, and thank goodness.

I of course have to give credit to the popularity of Ace Attorney and its characters, as well as the Mod for giving me and the other moderators so much material to start off with, but I sure never expected my role in helping to build the Ace Attorney fandom’s strength and size to be quite this large. Heck, just getting to create things for so many people is a huge honor, so...what can I say to that, except a huge thank you to Capcom and the Mod?

Don’t worry, I’ll get to thanking all of you in just a moment. ; )

So, anyway, that’s all the general stuff. Let’s talk about the highlights of the last three years, now, shall we?

My first holiday-related post was an April Fool’s Day one, so let’s start there. We came close to hearing about Phoenix’s lawyer camp incident...

...gave a few of the characters a chance to ask some questions of their own...

...had a little run-in with some of the bad guys...

...and briefly opened the window into some characters’ minds.

We sure didn’t fool around when it came to fooling around, did we?

Then there was Halloween. We dealt with a creeper in the darkness...

...let one of the lesser-known characters go on a brief venture beyond the fourth wall...

...let some characters switch outfits and personalities for a short while...

...and paid homage to a classic interactive cartoon by letting them give out candy.

We sure had our fill of sweets and spooks, didn’t we?

And then there was Christmas, which included some of my favorite content. We enjoyed a musical performance by several members of the Ace Attorney cast...

...a less flattering musical performance by yours truly...

...a short play taking place in Pearls’s dreams...

...and a fan-made song parody about a non-canon (but believable) incident involving Phoenix and a reindeer.

(Sorry if that image cursed anyone for life, by the way.)

I don’t know about you, but I loved every bit of our holiday hijinks.

And of course, we can’t leave out some of the great moments that occurred on non-holidays, including Her Benevolence falling victim to a classic comedy gag...

...Pearls meeting herself from a different time period somehow...

...Apollo taking a trip to the Pokemon world in his dreams...

...Athena getting tricked into thinking she had passed on briefly...

...Trucy getting caught red-handed by Arnold Schwarzenegger himself...

...and, uh...this thing happening to Iris.

No idea what I was thinking back then. Sometimes you just have to go with the moment.

Not to mention one letter response that received an unexpected explosion of popularity. Edgeworth always did know how to drop a sass bomb, didn’t he? And one moment I’ll likely never forget is the letter regarding Athena’s hair. For the record, I thought the shorter hairstyle looked okay, but somehow I didn’t think she would feel the same way. Make of that what you will. X )

Of course, it wasn’t all fun times and laughter -- I ended up stepping on some toes by accident, making a few jokes in bad taste, struggling to keep a balance between blogging and the real world, and...well...

...that happened. I don’t regret a moment of it, though, because if Ace Attorney (and life) have taught me anything, it’s that powering through the less enjoyable moments in life is what makes us stronger, and what makes the good times that much more enjoyable.

But out of all the fun, hilarious, thought-provoking, and deeply touching moments that stood out in the last three years of blogging, the one I would say I enjoyed the most is this one. It was my first attempt at responding to a letter in character (with one of the biggest “characters” in the series, no less), but, as with many of my letter responses, it also included some of me in it -- specifically, the part where Athena tries to sound optimistic, but not too prideful. That was the sort of attitude I wanted to have whenever I answered letters -- I wanted to keep the fun and creativity of Ace Attorney and its characters going without injecting too much of myself into it. The series wasn’t mine, after all, and neither was the blog, so my main goal was simply to sound like the characters.

And with that in mind, let me just say this: If any of these letters (even one of them) have made you smile or laugh on an unpleasant day, made you think about things from a different perspective, or simply helped you suspend your disbelief for a moment and believe you’re actually talking to someone from a video game, then my goal has been reached.

Anyway, I didn’t mean for this to be my goodbye speech (I’m saving that for later). What it is is a sincere thank you for the fun and creativity that I and the rest of the moderators were able to engage in with all of you, thanks to our shared love of Ace Attorney, its characters, and its unique humor and depth. Every last piece of witty dialogue, every picture, every song, and every custom sprite (the last of which can be found here), was inspired by your creativity and willingness to participate in this imaginative collaboration work.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it at least half as much as I have. You guys are awesome.

-The Co-Mod

#Mod Post #Co Mod #Mod Commentary #Feel free to share any of your favorite moments that I missed

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a-room-of-my-own · 4 years ago

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This isn’t an easy piece to write, for reasons that will shortly become clear, but I know it’s time to explain myself on an issue surrounded by toxicity. I write this without any desire to add to that toxicity.

For people who don’t know: last December I tweeted my support for Maya Forstater, a tax specialist who’d lost her job for what were deemed ‘transphobic’ tweets. She took her case to an employment tribunal, asking the judge to rule on whether a philosophical belief that sex is determined by biology is protected in law. Judge Tayler ruled that it wasn’t.

My interest in trans issues pre-dated Maya’s case by almost two years, during which I followed the debate around the concept of gender identity closely. I’ve met trans people, and read sundry books, blogs and articles by trans people, gender specialists, intersex people, psychologists, safeguarding experts, social workers and doctors, and followed the discourse online and in traditional media. On one level, my interest in this issue has been professional, because I’m writing a crime series, set in the present day, and my fictional female detective is of an age to be interested in, and affected by, these issues herself, but on another, it’s intensely personal, as I’m about to explain.

All the time I’ve been researching and learning, accusations and threats from trans activists have been bubbling in my Twitter timeline. This was initially triggered by a ‘like’. When I started taking an interest in gender identity and transgender matters, I began screenshotting comments that interested me, as a way of reminding myself what I might want to research later. On one occasion, I absent-mindedly ‘liked’ instead of screenshotting. That single ‘like’ was deemed evidence of wrongthink, and a persistent low level of harassment began.

Months later, I compounded my accidental ‘like’ crime by following Magdalen Burns on Twitter. Magdalen was an immensely brave young feminist and lesbian who was dying of an aggressive brain tumour. I followed her because I wanted to contact her directly, which I succeeded in doing. However, as Magdalen was a great believer in the importance of biological sex, and didn’t believe lesbians should be called bigots for not dating trans women with penises, dots were joined in the heads of twitter trans activists, and the level of social media abuse increased.

I mention all this only to explain that I knew perfectly well what was going to happen when I supported Maya. I must have been on my fourth or fifth cancellation by then. I expected the threats of violence, to be told I was literally killing trans people with my hate, to be called cunt and bitch and, of course, for my books to be burned, although one particularly abusive man told me he’d composted them.

What I didn’t expect in the aftermath of my cancellation was the avalanche of emails and letters that came showering down upon me, the overwhelming majority of which were positive, grateful and supportive. They came from a cross-section of kind, empathetic and intelligent people, some of them working in fields dealing with gender dysphoria and trans people, who’re all deeply concerned about the way a socio-political concept is influencing politics, medical practice and safeguarding. They’re worried about the dangers to young people, gay people and about the erosion of women’s and girl’s rights. Above all, they’re worried about a climate of fear that serves nobody – least of all trans youth – well.

I’d stepped back from Twitter for many months both before and after tweeting support for Maya, because I knew it was doing nothing good for my mental health. I only returned because I wanted to share a free children’s book during the pandemic. Immediately, activists who clearly believe themselves to be good, kind and progressive people swarmed back into my timeline, assuming a right to police my speech, accuse me of hatred, call me misogynistic slurs and, above all – as every woman involved in this debate will know – TERF.

If you didn’t already know – and why should you? – ‘TERF’ is an acronym coined by trans activists, which stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. In practice, a huge and diverse cross-section of women are currently being called TERFs and the vast majority have never been radical feminists. Examples of so-called TERFs range from the mother of a gay child who was afraid their child wanted to transition to escape homophobic bullying, to a hitherto totally unfeminist older lady who’s vowed never to visit Marks & Spencer again because they’re allowing any man who says they identify as a woman into the women’s changing rooms. Ironically, radical feminists aren’t even trans-exclusionary – they include trans men in their feminism, because they were born women.

But accusations of TERFery have been sufficient to intimidate many people, institutions and organisations I once admired, who’re cowering before the tactics of the playground. ‘They’ll call us transphobic!’ ‘They’ll say I hate trans people!’ What next, they’ll say you’ve got fleas? Speaking as a biological woman, a lot of people in positions of power really need to grow a pair (which is doubtless literally possible, according to the kind of people who argue that clownfish prove humans aren’t a dimorphic species).

So why am I doing this? Why speak up? Why not quietly do my research and keep my head down?

Well, I’ve got five reasons for being worried about the new trans activism, and deciding I need to speak up.

Firstly, I have a charitable trust that focuses on alleviating social deprivation in Scotland, with a particular emphasis on women and children. Among other things, my trust supports projects for female prisoners and for survivors of domestic and sexual abuse. I also fund medical research into MS, a disease that behaves very differently in men and women. It’s been clear to me for a while that the new trans activism is having (or is likely to have, if all its demands are met) a significant impact on many of the causes I support, because it’s pushing to erode the legal definition of sex and replace it with gender.

The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.

The third is that, as a much-banned author, I’m interested in freedom of speech and have publicly defended it, even unto Donald Trump.

The fourth is where things start to get truly personal. I’m concerned about the huge explosion in young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning (returning to their original sex), because they regret taking steps that have, in some cases, altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility. Some say they decided to transition after realising they were same-sex attracted, and that transitioning was partly driven by homophobia, either in society or in their families.

Most people probably aren’t aware – I certainly wasn’t, until I started researching this issue properly – that ten years ago, the majority of people wanting to transition to the opposite sex were male. That ratio has now reversed. The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers.

The same phenomenon has been seen in the US. In 2018, American physician and researcher Lisa Littman set out to explore it. In an interview, she said:

‘Parents online were describing a very unusual pattern of transgender-identification where multiple friends and even entire friend groups became transgender-identified at the same time. I would have been remiss had I not considered social contagion and peer influences as potential factors.’

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

Her paper caused a furore. She was accused of bias and of spreading misinformation about transgender people, subjected to a tsunami of abuse and a concerted campaign to discredit both her and her work. The journal took the paper offline and re-reviewed it before republishing it. However, her career took a similar hit to that suffered by Maya Forstater. Lisa Littman had dared challenge one of the central tenets of trans activism, which is that a person’s gender identity is innate, like sexual orientation. Nobody, the activists insisted, could ever be persuaded into being trans.

The argument of many current trans activists is that if you don’t let a gender dysphoric teenager transition, they will kill themselves. In an article explaining why he resigned from the Tavistock (an NHS gender clinic in England) psychiatrist Marcus Evans stated that claims that children will kill themselves if not permitted to transition do not ‘align substantially with any robust data or studies in this area. Nor do they align with the cases I have encountered over decades as a psychotherapist.’

The writings of young trans men reveal a group of notably sensitive and clever people. The more of their accounts of gender dysphoria I’ve read, with their insightful descriptions of anxiety, dissociation, eating disorders, self-harm and self-hatred, the more I’ve wondered whether, if I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.

When I read about the theory of gender identity, I remember how mentally sexless I felt in youth. I remember Colette’s description of herself as a ‘mental hermaphrodite’ and Simone de Beauvoir’s words: ‘It is perfectly natural for the future woman to feel indignant at the limitations posed upon her by her sex. The real question is not why she should reject them: the problem is rather to understand why she accepts them.’

As I didn’t have a realistic possibility of becoming a man back in the 1980s, it had to be books and music that got me through both my mental health issues and the sexualised scrutiny and judgement that sets so many girls to war against their bodies in their teens. Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.

I want to be very clear here: I know transition will be a solution for some gender dysphoric people, although I’m also aware through extensive research that studies have consistently shown that between 60-90% of gender dysphoric teens will grow out of their dysphoria. Again and again I’ve been told to ‘just meet some trans people.’ I have: in addition to a few younger people, who were all adorable, I happen to know a self-described transsexual woman who’s older than I am and wonderful. Although she’s open about her past as a gay man, I’ve always found it hard to think of her as anything other than a woman, and I believe (and certainly hope) she’s completely happy to have transitioned. Being older, though, she went through a long and rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation. The current explosion of trans activism is urging a removal of almost all the robust systems through which candidates for sex reassignment were once required to pass. A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.

We’re living through the most misogynistic period I’ve experienced. Back in the 80s, I imagined that my future daughters, should I have any, would have it far better than I ever did, but between the backlash against feminism and a porn-saturated online culture, I believe things have got significantly worse for girls. Never have I seen women denigrated and dehumanised to the extent they are now. From the leader of the free world’s long history of sexual assault accusations and his proud boast of ‘grabbing them by the pussy’, to the incel (‘involuntarily celibate’) movement that rages against women who won’t give them sex, to the trans activists who declare that TERFs need punching and re-educating, men across the political spectrum seem to agree: women are asking for trouble. Everywhere, women are being told to shut up and sit down, or else.

I’ve read all the arguments about femaleness not residing in the sexed body, and the assertions that biological women don’t have common experiences, and I find them, too, deeply misogynistic and regressive. It’s also clear that one of the objectives of denying the importance of sex is to erode what some seem to see as the cruelly segregationist idea of women having their own biological realities or – just as threatening – unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class. The hundreds of emails I’ve received in the last few days prove this erosion concerns many others just as much. It isn’t enough for women to be trans allies. Women must accept and admit that there is no material difference between trans women and themselves.

But, as many women have said before me, ‘woman’ is not a costume. ‘Woman’ is not an idea in a man’s head. ‘Woman’ is not a pink brain, a liking for Jimmy Choos or any of the other sexist ideas now somehow touted as progressive. Moreover, the ‘inclusive’ language that calls female people ‘menstruators’ and ‘people with vulvas’ strikes many women as dehumanising and demeaning. I understand why trans activists consider this language to be appropriate and kind, but for those of us who’ve had degrading slurs spat at us by violent men, it’s not neutral, it’s hostile and alienating.

Which brings me to the fifth reason I’m deeply concerned about the consequences of the current trans activism.

I’ve been in the public eye now for over twenty years and have never talked publicly about being a domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor. This isn’t because I’m ashamed those things happened to me, but because they’re traumatic to revisit and remember. I also feel protective of my daughter from my first marriage. I didn’t want to claim sole ownership of a story that belongs to her, too. However, a short while ago, I asked her how she’d feel if I were publicly honest about that part of my life, and she encouraged me to go ahead.

I’m mentioning these things now not in an attempt to garner sympathy, but out of solidarity with the huge numbers of women who have histories like mine, who’ve been slurred as bigots for having concerns around single-sex spaces.

I managed to escape my first violent marriage with some difficulty, but I’m now married to a truly good and principled man, safe and secure in ways I never in a million years expected to be. However, the scars left by violence and sexual assault don’t disappear, no matter how loved you are, and no matter how much money you’ve made. My perennial jumpiness is a family joke – and even I know it’s funny – but I pray my daughters never have the same reasons I do for hating sudden loud noises, or finding people behind me when I haven’t heard them approaching.

If you could come inside my head and understand what I feel when I read about a trans woman dying at the hands of a violent man, you’d find solidarity and kinship. I have a visceral sense of the terror in which those trans women will have spent their last seconds on earth, because I too have known moments of blind fear when I realised that the only thing keeping me alive was the shaky self-restraint of my attacker.

I believe the majority of trans-identified people not only pose zero threat to others, but are vulnerable for all the reasons I’ve outlined. Trans people need and deserve protection. Like women, they’re most likely to be killed by sexual partners. Trans women who work in the sex industry, particularly trans women of colour, are at particular risk. Like every other domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor I know, I feel nothing but empathy and solidarity with trans women who’ve been abused by men.

So I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe. When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.

On Saturday morning, I read that the Scottish government is proceeding with its controversial gender recognition plans, which will in effect mean that all a man needs to ‘become a woman’ is to say he’s one. To use a very contemporary word, I was ‘triggered’. Ground down by the relentless attacks from trans activists on social media, when I was only there to give children feedback about pictures they’d drawn for my book under lockdown, I spent much of Saturday in a very dark place inside my head, as memories of a serious sexual assault I suffered in my twenties recurred on a loop. That assault happened at a time and in a space where I was vulnerable, and a man capitalised on an opportunity. I couldn’t shut out those memories and I was finding it hard to contain my anger and disappointment about the way I believe my government is playing fast and loose with womens and girls’ safety.

Late on Saturday evening, scrolling through children’s pictures before I went to bed, I forgot the first rule of Twitter – never, ever expect a nuanced conversation – and reacted to what I felt was degrading language about women. I spoke up about the importance of sex and have been paying the price ever since. I was transphobic, I was a cunt, a bitch, a TERF, I deserved cancelling, punching and death. You are Voldemort said one person, clearly feeling this was the only language I’d understand.

It would be so much easier to tweet the approved hashtags – because of course trans rights are human rights and of course trans lives matter – scoop up the woke cookies and bask in a virtue-signalling afterglow. There’s joy, relief and safety in conformity. As Simone de Beauvoir also wrote, “… without a doubt it is more comfortable to endure blind bondage than to work for one’s liberation; the dead, too, are better suited to the earth than the living.”

Huge numbers of women are justifiably terrified by the trans activists; I know this because so many have got in touch with me to tell their stories. They’re afraid of doxxing, of losing their jobs or their livelihoods, and of violence.

But endlessly unpleasant as its constant targeting of me has been, I refuse to bow down to a movement that I believe is doing demonstrable harm in seeking to erode ‘woman’ as a political and biological class and offering cover to predators like few before it. I stand alongside the brave women and men, gay, straight and trans, who’re standing up for freedom of speech and thought, and for the rights and safety of some of the most vulnerable in our society: young gay kids, fragile teenagers, and women who’re reliant on and wish to retain their single sex spaces. Polls show those women are in the vast majority, and exclude only those privileged or lucky enough never to have come up against male violence or sexual assault, and who’ve never troubled to educate themselves on how prevalent it is.

The one thing that gives me hope is that the women who can protest and organise, are doing so, and they have some truly decent men and trans people alongside them. Political parties seeking to appease the loudest voices in this debate are ignoring women’s concerns at their peril. In the UK, women are reaching out to each other across party lines, concerned about the erosion of their hard-won rights and widespread intimidation. None of the gender critical women I’ve talked to hates trans people; on the contrary. Many of them became interested in this issue in the first place out of concern for trans youth, and they’re hugely sympathetic towards trans adults who simply want to live their lives, but who’re facing a backlash for a brand of activism they don’t endorse. The supreme irony is that the attempt to silence women with the word ‘TERF’ may have pushed more young women towards radical feminism than the movement’s seen in decades.

The last thing I want to say is this. I haven’t written this essay in the hope that anybody will get out a violin for me, not even a teeny-weeny one. I’m extraordinarily fortunate; I’m a survivor, certainly not a victim. I’ve only mentioned my past because, like every other human being on this planet, I have a complex backstory, which shapes my fears, my interests and my opinions. I never forget that inner complexity when I’m creating a fictional character and I certainly never forget it when it comes to trans people.

All I’m asking – all I want – is for similar empathy, similar understanding, to be extended to the many millions of women whose sole crime is wanting their concerns to be heard without receiving threats and abuse.

#Jk Rowling #Jkr #Transgender #Terf #Gender critical #Radfem

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calm-and-wine · 4 years ago

Text

(I’ll give you) the best years

part V (masterlist, taglist)

hello, hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves! here is part 5 of best years, in case anyone needs a little escape. there will be one more part (more like an epilogue probably), but i’m not sure when it’ll be posted yet, because i do need to (and want to) write my one shot for the quarantine challenge. it will definitely happen though. anyway, hope you enjoy this one and i’d love to hear your thoughts!

PART V

November 2025

Life without tennis was weird, that was the conclusion Lucy arrived to after two months since her retirement. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. She didn’t regret her decision, not at all, but it’ll take some to get used to that new situation. She spent a bit over a week in LA while the band was doing promo, then went away for a week, just her and Niall, back in Maui, celebrating their wedding anniversary and whatever the future had in store for them. That was good, quite normal, but coming back and not going back to training was not normal. Not having to wake up early was not normal. Not having to pay attention to her food or being able to drink alcohol as freely as she wanted was not normal. Well, it was her new normal and she should probably start getting used to it.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything else to do. She went to see her parents and stayed with them for a week. She had been making moves on starting the management to help young tennis players, attending meeting after meeting, trying to be as involved as her knowledge allowed her to, all the pieces slowly but steadily falling into place.

Her life hadn’t necessarily slowed down, it just took a different course. And in the middle of it all, her and Niall also started looking at houses. Their friends said it was crazy, them running around, from meetings and Niall’s rehearsals with the band, hurrying to not be late to meet with their estate agent. Lucy was actually more tired than she was while playing. But she wasn’t complaining. Because no matter how chaotic the days were, in the end, it was always her and Niall, under the same roof, in the same bed, together.

Even though they were both busy, they were about to be even busier. Well, Niall mostly. With the band’s first album after reunion being released in just over a week and a world tour starting in January, he definitely won’t be complaining about too much free time on his hands.

They just got home from looking at yet another house (fourth this week), going straight to the kitchen, with Lucy starting to heat up dinner she prepped earlier, while Niall put a kettle on for some tea. Even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together at home, especially considering how long they had been in a relationship, they had no problem falling into step with each other.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, stepping behind her and putting a hand on the small of her back while reaching up beside her head to pull out two mugs from the cupboard. Because they drove separate cars, coming from different locations, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk properly.

“Um… It was alright, I liked the exterior, it’s very well-kept. Big garden, which is nice,” Lucy said, turning slightly to follow Niall’s moves.

“What about the inside?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d need some renovation.”

He sighed, passing her a steaming cup, knowing she liked her tea almost scolding hot. She took it with a smile, also noticing he chose her favourite mug. “How come there are no good houses in London?”

“I know, right? I did not expect it to be that hard to find a nice home.” Because Niall was close enough, she took half a step and rested her forehead on his shoulder, him instantly putting an arm around her to rub her back.

“Could you see us in any that we’ve seen?” he asked after planting a sweet kiss on her hairline.

“I like the one we saw yesterday,” she said, raising her head, but staying pressed to his body. “It needs a lot of work, but it has good structure. It was finished terribly, we would have to change the floors probably, maybe take down a wall or two…”

“That’s probably doable though, right?”

“Did you like it?” she asked. It obviously needed to be a mutual decision, even if they may not stay in that house forever.

“Yeah, I did,” he assured. “It has everything we wanted, just needs some work, but at least we wouldn’t have to rebuild it. And I liked the location a lot.”

“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her mouth going into the kiss. “Should we arrange for a contractor to take a look? See if it’d all be possible to do?”

“Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, planting another kiss on her lips. “I know it’s not perfect, but I’d say we try, I think we’ll feel different once we’re done with it.”

“I was never a big fan of perfect anyway,” she shrugged.

“In everything except your husband, obviously,” Niall pointed out.

Lucy laughed. “Oh, that especially, I settled.”

He looked at her offended, pinching her waist, which earned a yelp from her, instantly squirming in his hold. But he held her tightly, finding her lips for yet another kiss, both their faces lighting up with grins. They truly did not need a perfect house, because they already found the perfect home in each other.

The album was out. One Direction was officially back and everyone was loving it. The guys were special guests at the morning radio show, then did a few more interviews before arriving at the venue for their special show. It was their first proper show, only performing the singles on tv or radio before. But tonight was a ‘one night only’, when they would play the new album in its entirety, as well as their biggest hits, obviously.

Lucy, Maya and Ines met up at the venue, waiting for their guys to arrive. Eleanor was coming later with Freddie, everyone’s families and friends were going to be there as well. It was a big day and the buzz was evident in the air. When the band finally arrived, everyone could tell they were scared about the upcoming show. But there were also huge smiles on their faces and excitement coursing through their veins. They just hadn’t done it all in a while.

They all sat down to have dinner together, talking about their day, the amazing reaction the album got and everything in between. It was truly heartwarming to see them back together and happy like that.

Soon after, the guys had to go to soundcheck, the girls standing up, ready to join them, all except Lucy.

“Are you not coming?” Maya asked, looking at her surprised.

“Nope, this one is banned,” Niall replied before Lucy could utter a word, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder with a wicked smile on his face.

“Why?” Harry asked, looking at the couple with intrigue.

“Well, I’ve actually never seen your show, so he wants me to watch it properly,” she explained.

“No spoilers,” Niall smiled, proud of himself.

“You’ve seriously never been to our show?” Liam asked incredulously, to which Lucy shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?” he snickered, genuinely surprised. Judging from the amount of people who used to come to their shows, they kind of thought most people have seen them perform at some point.

“Nope, just travelling the world, being one of the top tennis players, you know, the usual,” she replied with a laugh.

“Well, it might be for the better that you haven’t seen us in our golden years,” started Louis, “at least you’ll be less disappointed tonight.”

“Oh come off it, you’re gonna be amazing,” Ines chastened him, hitting his arm playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Okay, lads, we need to go,” said Harry, trying to rush the boys, knowing their team was waiting.

“I’m actually gonna stay too,” Ines said, when he reached for her hand.

“Me too,” joined Maya. “It’ll be fun watching the show with a fresh mind.”

“Well okay then, we’ll be extra sexy during soundcheck, so you’ll be missing a lot,” Harry said playfully, which earned him a few laughs.

Each couple shared a kiss and hugs, with Louis making whiny noises behind them, because Eleanor wasn’t there yet, before the guys finally left.

Lucy loved hanging out with the girls. They were all very different, but still got along well, having this amazing thing connecting them. It was the same with the boys, all four of them with very different personalities, but forming a bond as strong as true brotherhood. It was the type of relationship you wouldn’t understand if you weren’t a part of.

She had fun hanging backstage, she always enjoyed those moments, everyone buzzing with excitement, talking, relaxing before going out there, and sharing it with the band, the atmosphere was even better. It was like a family.

After sending Niall off with one last kiss and an unneeded ‘good luck’, Lucy went out into the crowd. All the women decided to watch the show from the stands, only choosing side stage for the last few songs, so they could hug their men right after.

Watching Niall on stage has always been an incredible experience, making Lucy not only smile, but her heart fill with warmth, love and admiration. But seeing Niall on stage with his three brothers was another level. It was so easy to see just how much love those four guys had for each other, for what they were doing together. And the crowd… She had been to many of Niall’s shows, but she’s never seen or heard a crowd like that. That loud, that passionate. It was breathtaking. And knowing not only how hard the guys worked for it, but especially how much it all meant to them, made it even more awestracking. If she felt like that standing on the sidelines, she couldn’t even imagine how it must feel for the four men on stage.

Lucy knew Niall loved watching her play. And she felt like she truly understood why. How proud he always felt. Because seeing him up there on stage, she felt exactly the same way. There was nothing better than watching the person you loved doing the thing they loved.

April 2026

Niall was finally home. Sure, it’s only been 11 days since Lucy left the band’s tour and flew back home to take care of some businesses, meet with the few players her management was considering signing and oversee the renovation of their house. She spent over two months by Niall’s side, travelling through America and watching him perform night after night. And even after that time, she hadn’t gotten bored with seeing him on stage. She probably never would, just like he’d never get tired of performing.

Having just over two weeks together at home came at the perfect time. Not only because there were a few things that needed to be done in London, but mostly considering the conversation she had to have with her husband. A conversation that required a certain level of privacy, which was quite hard to find while almost constantly being surrounded by people on tour.

She occupied her time waiting with cooking dinner, his favourite of course, but her mind and stomach were turning, both with uncertainty of the upcoming conversation and excitement of seeing Niall again. But the sound of their gate opening brought her back to earth, making her instantly turn off the stove and leave the kitchen to properly welcome her husband.

She got outside just as Niall was grabbing his suitcase, so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his body, which was as familiar to her as her own, if not more. He saw her coming, having managed to close the boot of the car and open his arms just in time to catch her. At that moment she was so carefree, running wild just because she missed him, not caring about what the driver might think or how it might look, just happy to have her love home.

“Hi,” he said joyfully, moving his hand from her waist to cup her cheek and leaning down for a kiss.

“Welcome home,” she said before going in for a second kiss. They were both aware that they were stood in their driveway and not exactly alone, so they refrained from making out like teenagers.

“Thanks, John, see you soon!” Niall said over his shoulder to his driver, grabbing his suitcase in one hand, the other wrapping around Lucy and leading them into the house.

As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, his mouth was back on her.

“Niall,” she laughed, when after a minute he moved to her neck, “I made dinner.”

“Not hungry,” he said hurriedly, like he wanted to spend as little time without the contact of her skin as possible.

“But,” Lucy started, which made Niall pull away slightly, putting his hand on the back of her neck making their eyes meet. It was like that look made her grounded again, all the worries, stress, all the different scenarios she made up in her head, none of that mattered. He always had this amazing gift of making everything else disappear. Like it was just them two, at that very moment, their feelings the only thing that mattered. “I guess the dinner can wait,” she agreed, marking her words with a playful tag at his hair.

“Missed you, love,” he said with a wicked smile, before raising her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold tight, and carrying her upstairs to show her just how much he really missed her.

They were enjoying the peace and quiet after dinner, cuddled on the couch, an old rerun of the show they’ve seen already humming in the background while they chatted a bit, sharing the things that happened the last couple of days, even though they already knew the majority through their phone calls. The company of their spouse always brought a level of comfort, no matter where they were, but when they were together at home, there truly was nothing better.

Lucy turned her head slightly to check if Niall hadn’t drifted off to sleep during the lull in their talks and when he looked back at her with the softest smile, the one reserved only for her, she said what’s been on her mind for the past three days.

“I might be pregnant.”

Her statement made Niall sit up, turning his body to face her properly, his hands grabbing hers to make sure her attention is all focused on him.

“How sure are you?” he asked softly, his voice level, oozing nothing but calmness.

“Um… Not really, I’m late, but I haven’t taken any tests.”

He let go of one of her hands to rake a hand through his hair. “Shit, okay, should we go get some now?”

She bit her lip nervously. “There are three waiting in the bathroom upstairs.”

He looked at her carefully, trying to decipher how she felt about it all, but he could only see the slightly shake to her hands and a soft smile gracing her lips, which was a bit contradictory, but in a way he felt like he understood her mood perfectly, a balance between very nervous and excited.

“Shall we go now, then?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah,” she said getting up, Niall halting her for a second before she could walk away, their lips meeting in a very reassuring kiss, before leading her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back.

Lucy had three different tests she bought the day before tucked away in a medicine cabinet, waiting for Niall to get home, because it didn’t feel right to check on her own. She went into the bathroom, her husband walking circles around their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. She picked all three tests up, read the instructions carefully before peeing on the sticks, laying them all on the sink and rejoining Niall in the room to not wait alone.

“Hey, you’re alright, yeah?” he asked, coming right up to her and grabbing her shoulders, massaging them slightly.

“Yes,” she said, stepping closer to hug him, needing the safety of his arms. “I didn’t expect it, but whatever happens, it’s okay. I mean we want kids anyway and maybe it isn’t the best time and we didn’t really plan it, but we’re ready, right?”

He smiled at her, reaching up to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. “I think so, yes.”

They took a minute embracing each other, both holding the other tightly, both having this epiphany that their lives might be changed in a matter of minutes. There were some soft kisses shared, loving words of reassurance whispered, before Lucy’s alarm ringed out, Niall squeezing her one more time before wrapping an arm around her waist, their bodies colliding as he led them into the bathroom to see the results.

“You look,” she said, burying her head into his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and stay calm. She wasn’t afraid of being pregnant. Sure it would change a lot, a kid would probably turn their lives upside down. But it wasn’t like they never talked about it, they both wanted kids, they wanted kids together. She loved Niall, he was her forever, there was no trace of doubt about that in her mind. But it was still scary.

“Hey, look at me,” Niall said after a minute, his calloused fingers cupping both her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes, she could see them begin to glisten. “They’re all positive.”

Before she could say anything, a huge smile broke into her face, Niall’s face instantly mirroring hers. “We’re gonna be parents,” she whispered, as it was some kind of secret only they knew, like she didn’t want to share it with anyone else, it was only for Lucy and Niall.

“We’re gonna be parents,” he whispered back, resting his forehead against hers, before pulling her impossibly close, his lips finding hers, the kiss soft and urgent at the same time.

When he pulled away after quite a few more kisses, he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and swung her around the bathroom, the biggest smile on his face, a laugh escaping his lips, she was also pretty sure she caught a tear running down his cheek. She had her doubts, she had to admit that, but she was also incredibly happy. Niall felt like her home for the longest time, but now they’d be a proper family. They were growing, they were making even more plans together, it was all evolving, growing, especially the love. She didn’t think it was possible, but it truly felt like the love they shared only grew and grew and all she could hope for was that it would never stop.

As Lucy slowly came into consciousness, the sun trying to seep into the room through the curtains, as soon as her eyes cracked open, she saw Niall. It was the best feeling to wake up and feel his body connected with hers, even if it was just their feet tangled together. But it was a rare sight to wake up and see her husband already awake. But this morning he was just that, lying on his side, an arm curled under his head, watching her.

“What time is it?” Lucy asked, rubbing her eyes, voice groggy from sleep.

“Don’t know,” Niall replied shrugging, his eyes not leaving her face.

“How long have you been awake?” She turned on her side to face him properly, her hand setting on his bare torso.

“Don’t know.” He reached his hand to push back the hair falling onto her face, before lifting his head to plant a good morning peck on her lips.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, his behaviour a bit unusual. “Do you know anything? Have you not looked at the clock?” It wasn’t like him to wake up before her but it was even more unlike him to not check his phone right after.

“Nope.” His face was lit up by a content smile, his hand travelling from her cheek to her waist to pull her closer.

“Why not?” she asked, eager to get some answers, see what was going on inside his head.

“Why would I?” He threw the question back at her. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have anywhere to be today. Why would I waste time looking at the time when I have such a beautiful angel to admire beside me?”

Even though the room wasn’t entirely bright, the curtains keeping the sun out for the most part, she could easily see the love in his eyes.

“What got you all soppy this morning?” she laughed, feeling her cheeks warming up at his words.

“You get me soppy all the time, it’s your magic ability.” He moved even closer, wrapping his entire body around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I missed this,” she admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing better than waking up together.”

He hummed, his hands gently roaming over her body before setting underneath her t-shirt (or rather, his), right on her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. Niall planted a kiss on her neck, before pulling away to press their foreheads together, looking not only into her eyes, but straight into her soul. Lucy could feel her eyes starting to glisten, and who knows, maybe it was the hormones, there were definitely many emotions filling her, the strongest of them all being love.

“We’re really gonna have a baby soon,” Niall whispered, cupping her cheek, ready to catch any tear that might escape.

“Yeah,” she managed to say, before he leaped in to kiss her, wanting to show her just how happy he was, how in awe and in love he was, how grateful he was for her.

“You’re okay with that, right? Having a kid now?” he asked after a minute, his voice laced with the slightest hint of insecurity. They talked about it last night, but he wanted to check in again, after some of the emotions died down.

Just looking at him, concerned about her and her feelings, made her heart soar and a smile graced her lips. “Of course I am. It’s unexpected, sure, but I’d say we’re in a pretty good place, maybe it’s not ideal timing, but it’s not terrible either.” She propped her head on her shoulder to get a better look at Niall, making sure he not only heard her, but also knew she meant every word. “I’m happy. We’ve known for a while we wanted children, so we might as well start now, right? We’re having a baby, of course I’m happy. Pretty scared, but happy.”

“I feel like the happiest man, honestly. You always make me the happiest.” He grinned so much this morning, his cheeks would probably start aching before the clock even hit noon.

“Do you think we’ll be alright as parents?” she asked, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.

“Well, I have no doubt you’re gonna be the best mum. And I’d like to think I’m gonna be an alright dad.”

“You’ve always been amazing with kids.”

“Yeah, but it’s a bit different with your own, right?” He shrugged before moving onto his back and looking at the ceiling, like it could hold some answers. “I think you might have to be the strict parent most of the time. I’m too soft for those kinds of things.”

Lucy chuckled, leaning up and over him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured. “I need to call my doctor and actually get an appointment first.”

“You’re still coming with us to Europe, right?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully.

“Yeah, it should be okay, right? We’ll ask the doctor, but I think so. We need to get the house done though. Especially now.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll make it. Everything will be alright and if not, we’ll figure it out.”

She went in for another kiss, before settling down onto his chest. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He moved his hand around to her belly and looked down. “And you little bean.”

July 2026

“You can see my belly, can’t you?” Lucy asked, turning every which way in front of the mirror.

Niall glanced at her from his place on the bed, looking away from the emails he’s been responding to and taking in his wife. She had a pretty summer dress on, the mixture of elegant and cute, looking as beautiful as ever. But he felt like he was on thin ice, because yes, he could easily make out a small baby bump beneath the material, but he was more than familiar with her body and was pretty sure this was not the response Lucy wanted to hear.

“Well… Yeah, but that’s just because I know it’s there,” he said, gesticulating to her stomach.

She huffed irritatedly, clearly not happy with his answer. “I don’t have anything to wear, then.”

Niall sighed (but not loudly enough for her to hear), closing his laptop and going to stand behind his wife, grabbing her hand to pull her close. “You look beautiful, love. And if someone can spot your bump, so what?” He knew Lucy wasn’t feeling great lately. Her belly started growing and as much as he thought that made her even more sexy, she didn’t feel perfectly comfortable with it yet, so used to the way her body had been pretty much the same for years. The fact that she had been feeling like shit, growing tired way too soon and morning sickness lasting almost all day, did not help.

“It’ll probably make tens of articles pop up speculating,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I say, let them. Fuck it, you know? It’s ours, yeah, but we can’t keep it on the downlow forever, so we should just do whatever we want to. And not care. You are pregnant, so why hide it?”

She bit her lip, taking a moment to think through his words. “Are you sure I look alright?” she asked again. “There will be a lot of people. And pictures.”

“You look stunning, Lulu,” he assured, marking his words with a kiss. “Like always, but even more. You’re glowing and I’m loving it.”

“I do not feel glowing,” she huffed.

He looked at her with concern. The doctor said it was all normal, some women feeling better, some worse, so technically there was no cause for concern, but he still worried, especially knowing that she was happy with the pregnancy, but couldn’t actually enjoy it, because it was not being easy on her. Having her on tour with him was good and bad at the same time, he was glad he could keep an eye on her, but it was hard seeing her struggle, especially all the travelling taking its toll on her. She assured him she was fine, time and time again, being an absolute champ about it all, which of course she was. But he was a husband, it was his job to worry.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay today? How’s the sickness?” he asked, holding her steady by the waist and taking a step back to look at her properly, almost like he was trying to assess her state, even though there were no clear symptoms.

“Not awful, but not the best either,” Lucy admitted, having trouble to even remember when was the last time she actually felt good. She took his hands and wrapped them tight around her waist, stepping closer to him once again. “You’ll be by my side, so I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, knowing there was no point in discussing it further. He did plan to make her ginger tea in a travel mug, so she could drink it on their way, hopefully calming some of her nausea, because that was pretty much all he could do to help her. “Are you excited?” he asked, changing the subject. They were going to watch the women's final at Wimbledon, with Lucy not only being invited, but also asked to take part in the trophy ceremony. It was a great honour, he understood that, of course he did, but just a little part of him wished she would take it easy. Stay home if she didn’t feel great. Especially because he knew she was stressed out about it. Not only about how she looked, despite all the questions she just asked, that was probably the least of her concern. She didn’t like being in public like that. Maybe she wouldn’t be the centre of attention, but she’d still be under the spotlight. She worried about making a mistake, having thousands of eyes on her, all the comments that might come after. She knew how to play on a tennis court, not hand trophies.

“Yeah. Really excited,” Lucy said, a smile taking over her face. “A little stressed, especially since I could technically feel the urge to throw up at any minute.” Niall was about to say something, probably along the lines of her canceling, so she pressed her palm against his mouth to shut him up. “But it should be fine. I’m really hoping Naomi will win, she deserves it so much.”

She didn’t just say it because she had beaten Naomi last year, but as a friend and a fellow player. They already made plans to meet up for lunch on Monday for a little catch up.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, they asked us to come in on Wednesday to see the house, they need some decisions regarding the living room, I think.” Lucy said, after Niall finally went into their wardrobe to change. She was just about to hurry him, not wanting to be late and knowing the traffic will probably be awful.

“Do you have any other plans on Wednesday?” he asked, coming back into the room, dress pants on and starting to button a light blue shirt.

“There might be a meeting regarding the sporting centre, I’m not sure yet. But if I’m busy you’ll handle it, right?” Lucy asked, not even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling her husband’s naked chest. Damn, she loved his body. And his heart and soul, but his body… It made her crazy, especially now when her hormones were all over the place.

“Yeah, of course,” he said right away, knowing Lucy was actually the one making sure everything was on track with their house, so he could take some of that load now that he was home for three weeks.

“And I might not be coming out for that last leg of your tour.” She said, finally turning around and going to put finishing touches on her makeup.

“Wait, what? Why?” Niall asked, stopping his movements to look at her.

“Just…. The house is gonna be a shit show next month, with most of the general work being finished, the furniture and equipment starting to arrive, the other crew coming in… We can’t ask Mia and Nat to keep an eye on it all the time.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t even raise her eyes to look at him through the mirror, because she didn’t want to see his expression. Seeing the disappointment on his face might just make her cry. And she spent way too much time trying to make her eyes look decent with makeup to destroy it now. “Plus there’s been talk of some more meetings, getting the ball really rolling for the centre… And it might be good for me to slow down for a bit. Especially all the travelling. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll come down for Australia.”

“Oh okay. I mean…” he sighed, his hand going up to his hair and stopping at the very last second when he remembered it was already styled. “Yeah, it might be good for you to chill for a minute. But I’ll hate not seeing you for weeks again. And I don’t like the prospect of leaving you alone with it all.”

Lucy finished applying her lipstick before finally turning around, his eyes already trained on her, a weak smile on his face. Niall didn’t mean to make her feel bad or guilty, that was never the case, but he also wanted to be honest. And she knew he was coming from a good place, always.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine,” she said, coming up to him and cupping his cheeks, making a move to plant a kiss on his lips, but pulling away a second before their lips met, not wanting to put lipstick on him, which made him whine and her let out a little laugh. “It’s just a few weeks. And then you’ll be home. And I’ll be here. And we’ll be moving while also preparing for the baby, so that will probably be a shitshow, but hey, at least we’re in this together.”

He smiled, kissing her cheek. Then the other. And then her neck, making her giggle. “‘Course we are. Always.”

October 2026

Putting finishing touches and getting ready to move houses while being seven months pregnant was not ideal. Thankfully they were both home now, after Lucy flew to Australia for the last shows of One Direction’s first tour back, they came back two weeks ago, after spending a few days longer, just relaxing, on the other side of the world.

All of this made Lucy stressed, her pregnancy made her uncomfortable most of the time and the impending arrival of the baby made her feel unprepared, no matter how many books and blog posts she had read. Because of that, it was no surprise to Niall that she wanted a quiet birthday. Lucy was never a fan of huge parties, especially the ones thrown in her honour. He proposed going away to their getaway house in Ireland, but she had insisted there were too many things to be done and overseen here, so he didn’t push, not wanting to make her even more stressed or upset. He did however make sure she hadn’t done anything unnecessary that day. Bringing her waffles and tea to bed in the morning, staying wrapped up in each other until midday, spending the next few hours cocooned on the couch, talking and watching tv, catching up on the lost time while they were apart.

However, when it was nearing the evening, he did ask her to get ready, saying he had something special planned.

“If you threw me a party, I’ll kill you,” she said while walking down the stairs, ready to go out. She knew it wasn’t dinner, because they had eaten not too long ago, Niall cooking her favourite of his while she admired him at work from the kitchen counter. He just chuckled, refusing to give her any hints.

But he did throw her a surprise party. Well, maybe not necessarily a party, more like a gathering. He got all of 1D with their better halves, their friends, her parents, Mia and Natalia, his own parents, even few of the people she’s been working closely with at the tennis management. The place wasn’t too crowded, filled with people she knew and appreciated. The music wasn’t too loud, you could easily have a conversation without screaming at each other. There was a bar, but not a proper dancefloor, just a little free space in case anyone wanted to bust a move, which eventually they did.

It was special, a perfect night to finish off the perfect day, the gesture making her cry more than once (which was fine, because at least she could blame it on the hormones). She trusted Niall completely and moments like those just proved how he truly knew her, giving her the perfect balance of what she wanted and what he knew she’d enjoy.

But now it was nearing 5am and she was lying awake, over half an hour since she woke up. She was uncomfortable. Huffing and throwing away the comforter because she was too hot, then growing cold mere minutes later. Not even her pregnancy pillow brought her any comfort tonight. She was just about to try getting up, when Niall stirred besides her, his eyes cracking open and his hand going to rub at her back as soon as he noticed she wasn’t asleep.

“Everything alright?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I couldn’t settle comfortably and now I’m wide awake,” she explained.

Niall hummed, looking at her in the darkness, her eyes tired, brows furrowed. He could see she was stressed or anxious, like she had been most of the time lately. It made him worried. He tried his best to take as much burden off her as he could, especially now he was home.

“I’ll go make some tea and then give you a message, hmm, how’s that sound?” he asked, bumping her nose cutely.

“I’ll go with you,” she said, throwing the comforter off her body already.

“No, you relax, you’ve been on your feet half the night, you should rest.”

“I need to stretch, I’m too uncomfortable now,” she reasoned, which made him give up easily, ready to help her up right away.

They went downstairs holding hands, because that’s just how they usually walked, him not really letting her do anything beside walking around the kitchen to stretch her limbs, before going back to bed, Niall refusing to even let her carry a cup.

“I know you’re tired because of the house and the pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you, but there’s something else also troubling you, I can tell,” he said, as soon as they were settled into bed, Lucy propped against the headboard, while he sat cross legged in the middle, facing her.

When he woke up, she didn’t expect him to stay up with her. They went to sleep just a few hours before. Sure, he only had two beers last night, saying he was gonna keep her company in the sober club, even though she insisted she was fine with him having some drinks. So he wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but it was 5 am, he must have been tired. And yet, he was ready to stay up with her, have tea and an actual conversation, just because she couldn’t sleep. That was love, gestures like those only made her appreciate him more and more.

“It’s just a lot, I don’t know,” she shrugged, not really sure how to even explain her feelings. “I’m anxious about the baby, I wish we were done with the house already and… I just… I don’t know what to do with the training centre.”

“Well, the house is almost ready and I’m back now, I can handle most of it. Especially the packing, you’ll just sit and give me orders and I’ll get it all done, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. It’s not good for you nor our little bub,” he marked his words with a gentle hand rubbing her swollen stomach. “And what’s up with the centre? You’ve been having quite a few meetings about it lately, yeah?”

“Yes and if I was going to pull out, I’d need to do it now.”

He sat up a bit straighter, looking at her confused. “Wait, why the hell would you pull out? I thought you were excited about it.”

“I was, yeah, but…” Lucy huffed, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. “Just how will it work? I was hoping to get it done at the end of this year or the start of the new at the latest, but with a kid.. I don't know, I can't do it all.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he scooted closer, noticing she was starting to get upset and placing a calming hand on her knee. “You’re not alone in it, love. I’m here,” he assured with a small smile. “And I know I’ve been busy, touring and all, but I’m home now. I’m here for you, we’re in this together, yeah? You’re never alone with anything.”

“Maybe i should just postpone it. Wait a year or something.” She shrugged again, looking down, her eyes unfocused.

He licked his lips, thinking of the best response. “You can if you want to. But if not, we can make it work now.”

Lucy finally raised her head, meeting Niall’s eyes, the look he was giving her nothing but gentle. “I’m just scared that if i put it off now, it’ll never happen,” she admitted. “Because then it’ll probably be another kid, I really doubt we’re gonna be done with one, and just… it’ll fade away.”

“No, I won't let it, love,” he was quick to assure her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezing. “I know you want it. And if you want it now, we’ll make it happen. Or if you want to wait half a year, or less or more, you’ll do it then. But I’ll make sure it’ll happen for you.”

Lucy’s lip started wobbling and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Niall reached to wipe them right away, letting go of one of her hands, but still holding the other.

When she calmed down, he asked, “Tell me how do you see it anyway? I know you want to be involved in it, not just set it up, but do you want to just generally oversee it or train someone or… I don’t know.”

“Umm… I think oversee mostly,” she said. “Pop in to see how everything’s going. Talk to people, trainers, players… everyone. Conduct training from time to time, but not really regularly. Taking on a player would be too much for me.”

“Well, couldn’t you do it now?” he asked, giving her a look of confidence. He was always the one who brought her courage when her own ran out. “Like, even soon after our little bug is born, you’d be gone for a couple of hours tops, not everyday,” he explained. “I think it’d be alright. Might even be good for you.”

“What about the band? Aren’t you planning another album? Another tour?” She asked, not exactly sold on the idea. It was something she’s been turning over in her head, trying to come up with a perfect plan, but she wasn’t sure it existed.

He shook his head. “There’s gonna be a little version of us both super soon and you expect me to leave for months upon months? No chance.” She chuckles, hitting his arm lightly to make him be serious. “There are plans, yes, we for sure want to continue, but not right away. I mean, we’ll probably pop into the studio from time to time, but no schedule, we just want to relax right now. Put our families first. We’re having a baby. It’s technically a secret, but El’s pregnant as well. Harry is getting engaged…”

Lucy squeaked in excitement at all those news. “What? El’s having a baby? That’s amazing. And Harry! Finally! Did he get a ring?”

Niall grinned, finally seeing his wife happy and excited making him feel a bit lighter. “Yeah, showed us like a month ago, fingers crossed he’ll actually man up and pop the question.”

She giggled. “That’s crazy. Maya has told me that she and Liam had talked about trying for a little one as well. Ahh can you imagine our kids being so close in age?”

His face matched her grin. “They’d be best friends.”

“Definitely.”

“But, to get back on topic, I’ll be staying put for the foreseeable future. Ready to take care of you and our bug and everything. So do your thing, don’t be scared, please. You know we’ll work it out.” He moved to his knees to get close enough to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, love. I’m your husband, no thank yous needed.”

“Yeah, but I still want to thank you,” she marked her words with another kiss. “For being the best husband and the best teammate ever.”

“You don’t have a lot of experience with teammates though, right?” Niall pointed out with a chuckle. “With tennis being an individual sport and all…”

“Yeah yeah, alright, here’s my trying to be nice and you ruining it. Just like always.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her body and bringing her flush to him. “I love our little team of three.”

Lucy went in for yet another kiss, having to agree with him.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall @awomanindeniall @soullikestyles @bopbopstyles

#dtl #1dff #one direction fanfiction #niall horan fanfiction #one direction fan fiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan oneshot #one direction one shot #down the line

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issabangtanfic · 4 years ago

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 7)

Masterlist

Synopsis: When for once rich doesn’t rhyme with Christian Grey.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

Mr. Jeon’s lips curl up into a smirk.

“Oh, hi.” He says, sounding pleased. Of course he is pleased to see me. His smile makes my blood boil.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss, recoiling when the strong scent of alcohol emanating from him reaches my nose. He tilts his head to the side, on eyebrow raised.

“Wham’I supposed to be doin’ in a bathroom?” He retorts. Oh, I don’t want to be dealing with this.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” I mutter to myself, turning on my heels, ready to go pick up Ben and Sidney and leave.

“Wait.” I hear him before feeling his hand around my arm. Oh what now?!

He turns me around, and I glare at him.

“Hey, man.”

I spin my head and see the security guy I just walked past standing behind me. Mr. Jeon lets me go immediately.

“Everything alright?” The man asks him. Mr. Jeon stares at him with a deep frown, mouth hanging open.

“Are you talking to me?” Mr. Jeon asks. Can I leave?

“Alright, buddy.” The guy cajoles, grabbing Mr. Jeon by the lapels of his jacket. " Leave the lady alone.”

Taking the opportunity as soon as it comes, I escape the scene, leaving him with his problems. I can’t bother with him tonight. I nearly run back to our table.

“That was quick.” Sidney says between two selfies. I mutter to myself, deciding I should keep the encounter to myself. Knowing her, she’s probably going to get up to find Mr. Jeon and kick his ass.

It’s fine, he is literally being thrown out of the club at this very time. As the thought crosses my mind, I look out the window that gives onto the street. Mr. Jeon is there, staggering across the road. How drunk s this man. He almost trips on the side walk but eventually makes it up, aiming for the bench of the bus stop. I watch as he lays down on it, on his back, one leg up on the wooden surface, and just stays there.

I frown as I witness his strange behavior, and soon realize he’s falling asleep. Out there? Under a bus stop? Is he that drunk? Where is his assistant? How does he plan on getting home?

He’ll never make it to his place, wherever that is. He’s going to get robbed. As much as I despise him, this is really dangerous.

“Excuse me guys, I’ve got to use the loo.” The words are out before I can convince myself to do otherwise. I don’t know why I feel the need to lie them. That’s actually false, I’m lying because I know Sidney wouldn’t want me to be doing this. I rise from my seat.

“Again?” Ben says.

“Girl stuff.” I mutter, waving a dismissive hand. This excuse always works.

Discretely, I make my way out of the club and across the street where Mr. Jeon’s lifeless form is sleeping.

“Hey.” I call, shaking him awake. He convinces one eye open.

“You can’t sleep here. Go home.” I tell him.

“Hey.” He slurs, grinning at me. Why is he so happy to see me?

“What is your address?” I try. Mr. Jeon groans, painfully pulling himself into sitting position. He scratches the back of his head.

“It’s.. a tall building?” He replies. I grab my own forehead. I can still walk away.

“Why did you get so drunk all alone? What happened to you?” I tell him.

“You happened, Maya.” He says, pointing an accusing finger at me. My eyebrows meet my hairline.

“I happened?”

“Your boss called me today.” He says to me.

“I know.”

“He was mad. He was…crazy mad.” He explains. Well, no shit! “And then...another woman joined in and… they all started yelling.”

That has to be Ava. She always has been so protective of everyone. And she’s loud. I bite back a smile at the thought of her yelling at a man like Jeon Jungkook.

“And I felt so wronged.” He adds. Wronged? Him?

"I felt like you did everything to make me look like the bad guy.” He mutters. What a joke!

“Yeah, right. You are the one- “

“Wait, wait, wait. Miss Fair, Maya, please.” He cuts me off, jolting up and holding his hands up. I cross my arms under my chest, but let him go on.

“They were threatening get the police involved, telling me I was a monster and a predator.” He says. And they were right! I still could report him to the police.

“So I said: what the fuck did she tell you?” He mimics himself.

“And they told me everything that you said to them. And turns out you just told 'em the truth.” His voice gets quieter by the end of his sentence. I watch, speechless, and his head bows down. He quietly sits back down on the bench, elbows propped on his knees.

“I harassed you.” His voice is almost a whisper. At least he recognizes it.

“So I get drunk to make things a little bit easier for myself.” He speaks again after a beat. He looks up at me, eyes filled with regret.

“I’m sorry, Maya.” He says to me. I hate that he sounds so genuine. I almost want to believe it.

“And I know I can’t make it up to you now.” He adds, looking back down.

“I mean… I could, if you let me take you on a date but…” He trails off, his words hanging in the air. A date? With him?! Let me laugh.

“Oh!” He exclaims, shooting his wide yes up and me and bouncing off the bench. I almost jump at his sudden surge of energy.

“Would you let me take you on a date?” He asks me. I break into cold sweat. What is happening?

“A date?” I repeat. He nods vigorously.

“Promise I won’t bring up my dick anymore. Everrrr.” He slurs. I tilt my head to the side. I doubt he’s capable of that.

“What kind of date would you take me on?” I ask, just out of curiosity.

“I feel like…” He taps his chin with one finger. “I feel like you’re a museum girl.” He declares.

“A museum girl.” I repeat, testing the term.

“Am I wrong or am I wrong?”

“You’re right.” I tell him. It’s a good guess but pretty generic. It still manages to make his entire face light up like Christmas.

“See?! I may be an asshole, but I’m smart.” He says proudly. I bite back a laugh. This is quite amusing.

“I won’t bring you to the Design Museum like any lame dude would do.” He tells me, almost like a promise.

“Oh no?” I chuckle, raising an intrigued eyebrow at him.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I know a place.”

“Which one?”

“S’a secret.” He shrugs, making an aggravated grimace. “You’ll know if you go with me.”

“I see.” I chuckle. He’s quite funny like this.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks me again. I feel like a no would ruin his playful mood.

“Are you even going to remember my answer?” I challenge.

“No, I’ll remember. I’ll write it down.” He retorts, pulling his phone out. I have to fight back another fit of giggles as he navigates trough his phone.

 “Asked… Maya… out on a… date…” He says to himself as he writes a memo. “And she said?” He looks up at me, eyes hopeful. I know he is only this nice because of the alcohol, but I can’t bring myself to shut him down. I would be the person who tells a kid Santa doesn’t exist.

I’m 90% sure he won’t remember this anyways.

“She said yes.”  I murmur, watching as he beams at me with a face-splitting grin.

“She said yes.” He repeats, his thumbs working fast on his screen. “Awesome.” He pipes up, putting his phone away. I shake my head at him.

“I gotta…” He almost gargles, taking a step back. He has enough time to turn away from me before he vomits spectacularly.

“Oh, bloody hell.” I gasp, looking away although he’s showing me his back. I almost gag at the splashing sound his vomit makes as it hits the ground.

Mr. Jeon throws up once more, and I hear him cough. Still not looking, I fish two tissues from my bag and poke him with them.

“Thank you.”  He says, voice tight, before cleaning his mouth. He sighs deeply, sitting down and throwing his head back.

“What a way to impress a lady, huh?” He says, more to himself than to me. I’m anything but impressed.

“This is the best I’ve felt since your boss called.”  He tells me, eyes closing. What is he doing.

“Should I call you a cab?” I ask him. He hums, but that’s it. His eyes are shut. He falls asleep just like that?!

“Mr. Jeon?”  I try to shake him. He groans. This man is not going to help me. He doesn’t remember his own address. He leaves me no choice. Looking around, I hail the first cab I see.

“Mr.Jeon.” I call, shaking him quite vigorously. He opens his eyes and frowns at me.

“Up. We’re going to get you a bed.” I promise, speaking loudly to keep him awake, and open the door of the car.

“Let’s go.” I encourage him, and I thank the heavens for giving him the strength of walking while he lans onto me.

 “He better not ruin my backseat.” The driver throws at me, but keeps his eyes full of anguish glued on my companion, watching him with worry.

“He’ll probably pay you a brand new car if it happened.” I mutter, dropping his limp body on the seat. The driver raises an eyebrow at me.

“Now I want him to ruin my backseat.” He retorts. I close the door on Mr. Jeon’s side and walk around the car to sit next to him.

“Where to?” I ask Mr. Jeon, shaking him to wake him up.

“What is your address?” I enquire.

Heaving, I sit him upright so I can fasten his seatbelt. He doesn’t reply.

“Mr. Jeon.” I call again when his belt is fastened, but he as descended in sweet slumber.

“You’re not helping me.” I mutter to myself, securing my belt. I guess he’ll have to come with me. What a joke! I did everything to get rid of this man, and he’s here, almost sleeping in my lap. Pursing my lips, I push him his slowly-falling-ontto-me body back in place and give the driver my address.

It’s crazy that I’ve gone from running away from this man to literally taking care of him. He can’t seem to be able to leave me alone. But this time should logically be the last time. There is no way I’m returning to Zaap now that I know he hangs out there, and London. is big enough of a city for us not to run into each other ever again. He probably won’t be bugging me tonight, and I can just shoo him away tomorrow morning. You can do this.

I decide to call Sidney to let her know about everything, and as expected, she immediately starts screaming at me. I really don’t blame her. I try to tell her not to worry about me and to enjoy the rest of the night with her brother, be she refuses to leave me alone with Mr. Jeon. Honestly, I can’t complain that I have such protective people around me, and one thing I know is that I can never win against her. So she gets on her way home as well, although I obviously make it back first.

I shake Mr. Jeon awake, but he’s still barely cooperating. When I open the door on his side of the car, his eyes are open but that’s about it. I get my keys ready in one hand and help him up, but the man is heavy for me and I’m pretty sure he can’t walk. He’s just there, almost comatose, moaning and mumbling inaudible things.

“Need help?” Our cab driver proposes.

“No, I’ll be fine.” I lie.

“Mr. Jeon, you better get your legs moving or I’m leaving you on the side walk.” I threaten him, shaking him again so he snaps out of it.

“Walk.” I order before trying once more. I heave and try to lift him up, and he grants me with some help, pushing himself out of the vehicle. The driver makes it his business to close the door behind him, and I take him up the stairs to my doors, skillfully opening the door with one hand.

“Maya.” He mumbles once we’re inside. He is so heavy, I’ll just drop him on the couch and let him pass out there. As we walk past the kitchen, I hear Mr.Jeon gag.

“My flowers.” I gasp, watching is he empties his stomach in the vase I put his flowers in. What the hell?!

“Sorry.” He mumbles. Ew. At loss of words, I drop him on one of the stools behind the counter and grab him some tissues so he can wipe himself. I notice the huge stain of vomit on his sleeve and nearly barf myself.

This man is supposed to be intimidatingly charismatic, for fuck’s sake. I walk behind him and begin to take his jacket off so he doesn’t sleep with it on and stains my couch.

“Are we finally doing it?” I hear him ask me. Ha!

“Doing it? You stink of alcohol and you threw up on yourself.” I mutter, successfully removing the jacket. I roll it so the stained part doesn’t touch anything and leave it on the counter.

“I still can get it up.” He retorts, slumping over. Yeah, sure. Not picking up on his comments, I pour him a glass of water.

“Drink this.” I tell him. He lifts his head and sees the glass, but doesn’t seem interested. Losing patience, I shove the glass into his mouth and lift it so he has no choice but to drink. Once that’s done, get him up again and push him down onto the couch. He falls back, feet hanging over the edge of it, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I sigh deeply. That was unnecessarily difficult.

“Maya.” He calls, eyes still closed. “I’m really sorry.” He murmurs.

“It’s just flowers.” I say dismissively, taking my shoes off.

“No.” He says. “For…you know, everything.”

I look up at him, confused, but he’s already gone, his chest rising and falling slowly as he sleeps. This man really is an enigma. I don’t know how to feel about him.

I’m about to head to the bathroom when I hear his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it could be someone who is worried about him, I figure I should answer for him. I fish his phone out and look at the caller’s ID: it’s his assistant. I take the call for him.

“Thank god!” The man exclaims from the other side of the line. “Where the hell have you been?” 

“Hello?” I say. There is a short silence. 

“Who are you?” His assistant asks, tone icy and clipped. 

“Maya Fair. The interior designer? Do you remember me?” I tell him.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Where is Mr. Jeon?” He asks again.

“He is with me. He drank a lot tonight and-” 

“Have you signed an NDA?” He cuts me off.

“And NDA?” I repeat. Why would I have to sign a non-disclosure agreement?

“Did-“

The call ends abruptly, and I realize it’s because Mr.Jeon’s phone is dead. Well, at least he knows he’s with me. I’m too exhausted to charge his phone, wait for it to turn on and call him back. I plug Mr. Jeon’s phone and head to the bathroom to remove my makeup. Sidney arrives as I’m putting my pajamas on, storming in and yelling all kinds of reproaches at me. Mr. Jeon doesn’t even budge at the noise she makes, and all I do is agree with her half-sleepily. I’m crazy, What I did was dangerous, he doesn’t deserve my help, blah blah blah. I give her a hug and collapse onto my bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

“Should we smother him in his sleep?” Sidney proposes, towering over Mr. Jeon’s sleeping form. She puts her hands on her hips and bends over him, watching him with squinted, untrusting eyes.

“Sidney.” I admonish, stretching my arm and offering her a cup of tea. I guess her resent for the man is weaker than her love for black tea, because she leaves him alone.

“I’m just throwing ideas.” She mutters, walking over me to get her cup. She leans against the kitchen counter next to me, and we both watch the man in our livng room while sipping on our hot drinks. Mr. Jeon is sleeping in the same position I left him in, sprawled on his back, one leg bent, both of his arms folded and tucked under his head. His long eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathes. He has a very subtle frown, which kind of looks adorable.

“He is hot though.” Sidney concedes although no one asked.

“You haven’t seen him throw up in the flowers.” I counter. I don’t think I would ever have imagined seeing Mr. Jeon in such a state. He’s always so serious and composed. I don’t think I ever heard him snicker like he did yesterday, out of pure amusement, not out of misplaced arrogance. It was new, and as disgusting as it was, it was a little charming I have to admit.

“I agreed on a date with him.” I declare. Sidney puts a hand behind her ear.

“Say that again?”

I roll my eyes.

“He seemed really sorry about the whole thing. I mean he drank his weight in alcohol because of it.” I explain to her. She raises an eyebrow at me.

“That’s a fucked way to prove your sincerity.” She mutters into her mug.

“It’s not like he did it on purpose knowing I would be there.” I counter.

“Yeah, but.” She pauses to take a sip of her black tea. "A date though???”

She has a point. He made me laugh, and he seems sorry, but it doesn’t mean I should be interested in him. He still wants into my pants, and while his actions can change, it won’t erase the past.

“I know, I’m not going. He probably doesn’t remember anyway.” I try to reassure her.

“The fact that you even accepted! You know very well that if you forgive this kind of man once, they know they have you.” She scolds. I glare at her and her chopsticks in her bun. How more stereotypical can you get?

“I know, Sidney. Jeez! You don’t have to bring everything back to him.” I mutter, know all too well what she was referring to. She leans back defensively.

“I’m just looking out for you. Red flags are red flags.” She mumbles.

“I am not going to fall for this man.” I say sternly. Sidney takes a quiet yet long sip of her tea.

“But you agreed on a date with him.”

“There is no date. I'm not going.” I repeat.

“Good.” She says, contented, and pinched my cheek. “Stop sulking.”

I glare at her again, but my eyes quickly get pulled back to the couch as I hear rustling in its direction. Mr. Jeon is slowly sitting upright, small, squinting eyes blinking slowly as he tried to get his bearings.

“Morning, pretty boy.” Sidney says, walking over to him. I watch, bewildered, as she crouches next to him. He gives her a confused grimace.

“Been squatting enough, haven’t you? S’time to go home.” She tells him, pointing at the door.

“Where the hell am I?” He asks, his voice raspy and laced with sleep.

“In my house.” I retort, making my way to the couch as well. He pulls his eyes to me, and his eyebrows connect in a frown.

“Maya?” He rasps, eyes getting even smaller. He looks sickeningly beautiful when he’s sleepy.

“I found you rat-arsed outside Zaap. So I brought you here. You threw up twice.” I explain to him, watching as his eyes widen at the news.

“Oh, god.” He groans, one hand covering his eyes shamefully. “I’m so sorry.”

I glance at Sidney, who is still being very hostile for someone who isn’t doing anything.

“Mr. Jeon this is Sidney, my roommate.” I introduce my sassy and overprotective roommate.

“Sidney, this is- “

“She told me about you.” She cuts me off, tongue rolling against her cheek. What kind of gangster acting is this?

“Sidney.” I scold. She scoffs, rolls her eyes and exits the living room. Mr. Jeon watches her in confusion. I quietly hand him is phone.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” I ask. He makes a low sound in his throat and leans back against the couch, reaching up and back to stretch.

I try not to notice the patch of creamy skin showing as his shirt moves up.

“Not past the fifth glass.” He exhales, slouching.

“I see.” I say to myself. He doesn’t remember he askes me on a date then, good. I won’t have to tell him no if he doesn’t know about it.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve seen me like this.” He says to me, rubbing his eyes some more. I can tell he’s still very tired.

“This is actually quite embarrassing.” He chuckles to himself. “I hadn’t planned on drinking that much.”

“Well you did. I don’t think I have ever seen someone as hammered as you. When the bouncer threw you out, you laid down on a bench and just stayed there.” I tell him. His brow furrows and he looks at me like I just grew three heads.

“They threw me out?” He asks. “Why did they throw me out?” He’s talking to himself this time.

“The bouncer could tell I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but I own the fucking place.” He retorts, his frown deepening. “These idiots threw their boss out of the club.” He exclaims.

“You do?” I try to hide my laugh in my cup of tea but he hears me chuckling at that, which makes him smile a little.

“This is outrageous.” He says. Poor guy!

“Should I get you something for your head?” I propose. He sighs deeply.

“That would be nice.” He gives me a tired smile. Nodding, I walk to the kitchen and grab a pillbox from a cupboard, almost wincing as I reach up. I realize I’m sore from carrying this big ass man on my shoulder all the way into the house. I also prepare a glass of water.

“There you go.” I say, handing him a pill and a tall glass of water. He gulps it down in seconds, probably feeling the dehydration from all that alcohol.

“Do you feel better?” I ask him once he’s done.

“I still feel like crap. But I know I should go.” He tells me, still barely able to keep his eyes open. I would tell him he’s welcome to stay until he feels better, but truth is he isn’t. I haven’t forgotten what he’s done, and I don’t want to be too nice to him.

“I’m not going to bother you any longer.” He declares, painfully lifting himself off the couch.

“Let me get you your jacket.” I tell him before making quick trip to the bathroom, where I disposed of his stinking suit jacket.

“It’ll need a wash.” I tell him, handing him the plastic bag containing it. He takes a peak and recoils at the smell.

“Jesus.” He says. Oh, I know.

“Thank you again for bringing me home with you.” He says after I walk him to the door.

“You’re welcome.” I reply.

“Miss Fair.” He tilts an invisible hat at me.

“Mr. Jeon.” I reply. He turns on his heels and leaves, and I close the door behind him. I lean against the door, close my eyes and let out a big sigh. This should be it this time. When i blink my eyes open, Sidney is glaring at me, hands on her hips.

“You’re too nice.” She says to me.

“Stop sulking.” I tell her, poking her cheek, my words mirroring hers.

“It’s over. I literally won’t have to ever see him again.” I say reassuringly, walking past her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.” I hear her mutter to herself.

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shintorikhazumi · 4 years ago

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I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 2: The Eldest Sister, The Younger Sister, and The Youngest

A/N: This chapter is more on Diana and Claudine’s lives and backgrounds. I feel like most of the initial chap plans I have are. Weiss gets her background turn soon tho. She still has some thoughts from her point of view. Some observations. It’s kinda different for her since she’s actually been around Jacques as opposed to Claudine and Diana who have been away from the dude, practically not knowing him at all. Maybe around chapter 4-ish. Rubes, Akko, and Maya come in the next chapter, so I hope you all can hold out until then, haha.

I personally love this concept so much! Like really! I keep writing out plot lines and paragraphs ahead. This is clearly a self-indulgent fic, I apologize.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 2: The Eldest Sister, The Younger Sister, and The Youngest

For how shitty he was as a father- and a person in general, Jacques Schnee sure had the devil’s luck. It made perfect sense as he was basically a demon at this point with all that he’s probably done, both known and hidden from the light.

How could someone acquire so much fortune? Riches, intelligence and cunning brought about by his insane amounts of greed, looks (Weiss gagged so hard thinking about it, though it was relatively true), charm that deceived women… or deceit masked as charm? Anyway. He had it all.

Plus, he had three gorgeous daughters to boot.

Had he exchanged his soul for this amount of good karma?

Well, it didn’t matter.

If the angel of death wanted nothing to do with him, then it probably wouldn’t mind if three angel-looking ladies took care of the job instead… right?

They were certainly angry enough to kill.

Or at least Weiss was.

Weiss had been brandishing her sword for the better half of the last two hours as she remained seated on the couch next to an equally fuming Claudine, exchanging opinions about their insufferable… sperm donor, or whatever.

Diana lay peacefully unaware, head on the golden-blonde’s lap, still unconscious since fainting at their front door. The other two…sisters- gosh, it was so weird thinking about it- didn’t quite know what to do with her, so they simply moved her over so she could rest more comfortably.

At first, they had planned on moving to the kitchen area to talk things out, and leave their other sibling to the peace of a quiet room, however, as if sensing the lack of presence, Diana had begun to toss and turn restlessly, hands and arms seeking out something. Upon grasping the edge of Claudine’s shirt, it seemed as though she had no plans of letting go, and thus, they ended up in the position they were in now, all squeezing together on their decently-sized couch.

“-And so, he told me I wasn’t old enough to live on my own, and I was wondering what he meant, because I am most certainly over eighteen! And then he implied something about Japan and that-! That was how I found out about being sent here and… we’re here now.” Weiss had just finished telling her side of this ridiculous story, pissed off being an understatement as to how she felt.

She didn’t want to be a criminal, but Jacques Schnee had a neck that just looked so perfect to slice in half.

Claudine would have laughed at how red Weiss’ face had become, but she refrained, breathing in, readying the words to her own tale. They had broached the topic of how they got here while talking about the house and their first meeting, and so they backtracked a bit to their own backgrounds and history prior to their father’s decision of sending them all to this place in Japan.

“I used to study here, actually. It’s only been a little over two years since I left.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I studied at a music and arts academy and mainly dabbled in theatre.”

“You say, “dabbled”, but I wonder if it’s really just that.” Weiss chuckled, secretly studying her companion’s features. Something in the back of her mind told her that the name, ‘Claudine’ was one she’d heard of before, especially since it had involved music. But maybe she could look into it later. “Sorry, go on.” Weiss encouraged after realizing she had interrupted her sister’s story.

“I was offered a chance at an exchange program in the school that basically “made” my mother’s previous career. It was in Paris and…” Claudine looked like she had loved and regretted at the same time every inch of that experience.

“I get it.” Weiss whispered, not meeting the actress’ gaze. “The biggest opportunity of your life. It could change everything.” Weiss turned back to meet rose-red eyes in understanding. “But that change isn’t always the best.” Claudine nodded. “It’s kind of like that meme, the one that goes ‘but at what cost’.” They shared a light laugh at that, but it seemed as though their chatter was enough to rouse the bundle of British girl on Claudine’s lap.

“Hrrngghnmm… where…?” Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, Diana blinked slowly, rising up to sit on the couch properly. She took in her surroundings, the unfamiliar interior, and the two people she could barely remember. She would have panicked and created as much distance between herself and the strangers, thinking she might have been kidnapped, but it was like she didn’t even have enough energy for that.

“Good morning to you as well.” Claudine jested, patting stray tufts of curly hair into place. “I hope you slept well, because we have a lot to talk about.”

Diana was still in the middle of processing everything in her drowsy state, so she could only nod in minimal understanding.

“Great. So Diana,” Weiss stole her attention.

“How did you-“

“Well, as you failed to introduce yourself to us right before fainting,” Diana visibly winced, and Claudine had chided Weiss on being a bit mean. The white-haired heiress rolled her eyes, but apologized anyway before continuing. “-we took the liberty of checking your pockets for any identification. Don’t worry, we didn’t take anything, and we didn’t snoop around important things that weren’t your ID. Rest assured. At least we respect privacy… unlike certain assholes…” She whispered the last part to herself.

A nod.

“Good, so. Now that introductions are out of the way,” Weiss stood up in front of the pair, hands on her hips. “It’s now time for some very important questions.”

“…such as?” Diana required some elaboration.

“Such as… whatever this thing is.” She stated, spinning her finger about in the air, gesturing to the three of them. “Between us.”

“But I thought…” Diana trailed off, instinctively looking to Claudine for support. The latter got the message.

“Aren’t we siblings? Sisters? Well… half-sisters, but,” she scratched the back of her head, feeling a little shy. “Sisters nonetheless.” Diana nodded in agreement, feeling a little warm deep down.

“Fine. So we’re sisters.” Weiss crossed her arms over her chest. “But there are certain things we have to agree on. After all, we don’t even know each other. Like, at all. How do we know who’s in charge in this house? Money concerns, I’m sure we all have individual banks and means. But things like property and document processes, who gives the rules and all that jazz… Or do we all just go on with our lives, each to their own.” She finished, awaiting the pair’s reply.

“I-…” Diana found herself lost for words once more. She couldn’t admit that she actually fancied the idea of having two new sisters, having wanted a family because she never really had one apart from her mother who had already long since passed. After that event, she had always been alone. She had been an only child, after all. She had always wondered what it would have been like had she had siblings, like her twin cousins. Her mother never married again, nor did she have the chance to as fate was so cruel. She was Diana’s only memory of family, along with a few of their servants who were loyal to them to the core.

But really, it was different when it was family that shared the same blood in their veins. Though quite a number would argue that some friends stuck closer than brothers, there were still instances where blood would prove to be thicker than water.

Even if it was diluted by half-built relationships.

Claudine noticed her distress. It was as though she always did. Placing a hand over Diana’s, she squeezed comfortingly before turning to Weiss.

“After speaking with you earlier, I’m sure we all need family of some sort. I don’t mind acting-“ Claudine caught herself, proceeding to shake her head. “-No, being sisters with you both. I think I’d actually like it. I’ve never had siblings as I was an only child. But then I did stay in a dorm in high school, and being around same-aged peers was truly a beneficial experience, living alongside people I grew to know and trust.”

Diana gave her a relieved smile, and the French responded in kind.

“I believe we could be the same if we tried.”

Weiss sighed, but she was smiling deep down. She had an older sister back home, and a younger brother as well, though they weren’t as close as she was with the eldest. Still, she knew they were all just struggling in their father’s grasp, forced to obey his whims. The two older sisters had managed to wriggle out one way or another, but Weiss sometimes regretted not helping Whitley be able to do the same. Maybe one day, she could introduce him to two sisters who looked like they had so much care and experience to share. Maybe they could all be a family together. Even if they all just consisted of siblings.

“I suppose I can be the eldest then.” It was neither proposition nor suggestion. Weiss was attempting to establish it as fact.

“Why you?” Claudine questioned with a brow raised.

Diana didn’t care who was in charge, she was happy enough to feel the inclusion in a family.

“Well, seeing as I’m the legitimate child here-“ It was like everything froze. There was a cut of silence in the air, kind of like those disc scratches you would hear often in videos when someone made a mistake, or a fumble and everyone realized. Yes, Weiss had suddenly realized what she had just said, and immediately regretted it.

And her string of apologies ensued.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were panicked, flickering quickly between Diana and Claudine’s shocked ones, a bit too shaken to come up with a comment or response. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I apologize. I deeply apologize.” Weiss throat ran dry, it was like she was choking. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes in her state of adrenaline with all the heightened emotions she had endured throughout the day.

She knew she had just crossed a horrible, horrible line. She bowed before them deeply, a perfect ninety degrees, not knowing what to do to salvage this situation. She didn’t know much of Diana’s story, but from what she’d gotten from Claudine’s side, as well as observing Diana through their interactions, she was fairly sure that they had been through so many bad things.

So many.

“I’m so sorry. Di-Diana… Claudine, I’m… I’m sorry.” She coughed out. “I can’t believe it… I’m just like… I’m just like that man.” She felt a tear slip out of her eyes, but before more could, a handkerchief was held out to her by a hand that slightly tremored.

“No. You’re not. You’re not like him.” Claudine was someone who was quite good at comforting others, Diana and Weiss realized. “We all aren’t.” All this time since they met, she had been the one to offer it. They had to be sure to thank her and express their appreciation later. They had all the time to. “We’ll do our best to reject his blood that runs through our veins.” She said with a conviction that the two could only agree to. But there was just something about that last bit,

“Pfft-“ Diana ended up cracking first. “I don’t think that’s possible,” She looked to Claudine, mirth in her gaze, something different from the clouds that had shrouded them this whole time. “but… we can at least deny his existence, if you’d like.”

The two blinked, Diana saying her first complete sentence, smooth sentence catching them unaware. It only took them a second to adjust to it however as they giggled along.

“Oh, I’d definitely like that.”

//-//-//-//-//

They ended up deciding who would be the “eldest” by asking each other’s ages and birthdates, something they should have done earlier, they now realized, sharing another laugh at their silliness.

They were all currently nineteen years of age, and about to enter their first year of university. At this revelation, they wondered why it was that their ages were so close to one another, particularly Diana and Weiss.

While the former was born in April, the latter’s birthday landed on the fifteenth of May. Claudine had the slightest gap from them, being born a few months later in august.

They tried to reason it out, Weiss trying to share bits and pieces of information she had uncovered after snooping around in her father’s office, as well as things she had heard during her mother’s many lamentations.

Over dinner, their talk led them to the deduction that on the particular year when they had been conceived, Jacques Schnee had a world-wide business operation going on, travelling from place to place constantly, checking on his various corporation branches almost monthly, staying for days to weeks on end in some countries.

Through the magical powers of the internet, they were able to dig up hidden articles that spoke of their biological parent’s notoriety for sleeping around in the many places he visited, and by the universe’s cruel plot, got the other two mothers pregnant around the time his wife was. Weiss had probably been conceived when he came back home from his visit to England which might explain why Diana was now the eldest.

“We should have him castrated.” Weiss proposed, and the other two only laughed nervously, knowing she was dead serious.

Despite this infuriating truth, they were somehow thankful that it allowed them to find each other. It was a mutual feeling that they believed they’d get along nicely.

Their dinner ended with them cleaning up the dishes and kitchen together before wishing one another a goodnight, separating into their individual rooms to unpack and get cleaned up to catch their repose from this stressful day.

Diana had finished quickly, now fresh from a warm bath and changed into comfortable sleeping attire. She fell onto the soft mattress that was a little too big for her taste. It was like the one back at home. Simply large and comfortable, but never comforting. Always so cold because Diana could never warm it all up. Or maybe that was just in her heart.

The peaceful rest she had wanted to attain did not come to her. Instead, she was plagued with nightmares of abuse. The abuse she had had to sustain while in the Cavendish manor, while in the branch house, everywhere that had the family’s eyes on her.

Cold blue eyes, freezing, burning. Yells and screams, screeches, insults, the pressured gazes, the false smiles of the peers and fans that surrounded her. The scrutiny and judgment. The rumors.

The emotional pains, the mental torture, the spiritual crushing, the social stress…

The whip that beat down on her legs, on her back, on her arms, and on her face at time.

And then-

Diana screamed.

In agony, in pain. A deep red gash on her hand never ceased in its bleeding. Her nerves stung, her eyes did too. The pain was searing, she couldn’t take it, it hurt so much. Her hands shook, they quivered, her body wretched and writhed, but still that unforgiving hand still raised the bloody tool for one more-

“I BEG YOU, PLEASE STOP-!”

“DIANA!” Claudine and Weiss had barged through the door, having heard the tormented cries of their housemate and had made a mad dash for her room.

“Diana?! Are you okay?” The said girl remained writhing, needily gasping for air. Claudine attempted to shake her awake. “Diana! Wake up!”

Eyelids flew open, revealing pained ceruleans, hazy from the dream and unfocused. Diana continued her sobbing, but now quieter as she slowly ran out of tears. Her sisters waited for her, understood that she was unable to speak, possibly for moments, possibly for the entire night.

They tried to get her back into bed, hoping she could get more rest at the very least. She must have been exhausted with whatever war she had in her dreams.

But Diana didn’t want to go back to sleep, clinging onto Claudine strongly. To her, it felt as though she was walking right back into the lion’s den, returning to torture’s waiting arms; but Claudine’s arms, she much more preferred. It felt of a motherly presence. When she realized this, Diana felt the embarrassment sinking in at the knowledge that Claudine was the youngest sister and she was the eldest.

And yet, here they are.

Still, she didn’t like being in the bed, she didn’t like how unfamiliar it was.

The girls agreed to move to the living room. While Claudine layed out a few extra foams and blankets for them to settle down into, Weiss prepared some warm, tea to help calm Diana down.

She wasn’t as good at Claudine when it came to dealing with people’s anxieties, Weiss admitted. But she wasn’t bad at it. So, offering Diana a cup gently, she tried to reassure her with a smile and a soft tone.

“It’s p-peppermint.” Damn stutters.

They sat in front of one another on a pile of warm blankets, no words, just the sounds of sipping and blowing of tea.

Claudine was fine with backrubs and handholds, and the like. But anything more than that felt like crossing a line, especially with strangers. Even if those strangers happened to be your family. Huh. This is what it was like to have awkward moments of being a family with strangers. She thought it was such a rare thing, usually portrayed only in books and television or in the plays she did.

But now it she was literally living that odd trope.

Huh.

And the silence continued. And continued. And continued… and still would have painfully continued, if Weiss could take the atmosphere still.

She couldn’t.

So what better way to break the ice than to talk about their horrible shared father?

“Ahh… My dad lied to me about a lot of things.” She began, stretching her arms up into the air, hand still holding her empty cup. That caught her siblings’ attention as they were taken into another conversation. “This place too. He said he had gotten me an apartment. I thought he was being pretty considerate to give me a place to live on my own- ah, not that I dislike staying with you both I just… didn’t foresee this development.”

“I doubt any of us did.” Claudine followed-up.

“This house… even if it’s smaller than the mansion where I grew up… It’s kinda big for just three girls, huh.” Weiss murmured, suddenly feeling the urge to apologize at mentioning wealth when she hadn’t a clue of the living situations her “sisters” had had to endure before this point.

They shook their heads, as if they read her thoughts, knowing.

Diana began murmuring coldly. “My mother’s family is very well-known.” Her younger sisters perked up at this, finally having the chance to hear the eldest’s background pre-incident. “We… were kicked out of the main house in England after, well… after me.” She hung her head low, as if she were shaed of her own existence. And she very likely was.

Diana jumped at the two warm touches on each of her hand, Claudine and Weiss taking one each, squeezing encouragingly.

Diana continued. “We lived in a traditional Japanese manor after moving to this country. A branch of our family used to live there, but at that time, it was unoccupied. It was fancy and large. Certainly made for the luxurious life. Though I never felt rich regardless.” The girls nodded in understanding, and Diana ended her piece.

Claudine then explained that while she understood their sentiments, she was rather satisfied with her life. She had everything she needed. Her adoptive father bought them a larger than average house, and they were a happy family together. Then she stopped.

This time, it was her who received the squeezes of comfort, Weiss now taking her free hand as they sat in this odd circle of angsty reminiscing.

“When he died, we sold the house, not solely for monetary need, but because maman couldn’t take the pain of being reminded of him.” Claudine finished. Weiss just had to comment, though.

“Maman…”

“M-mother!”

Everyone chuckled at that.

“Mothers. Fathers. Family, huh…” Diana tested the foreign words on her tongue. “I… I had my mother for a time, but after that…” She trailed off, a forlorn expression taking place on her features once more. “I’ve never had a family.”

“…”

“If you’ve never had a family, then we’ll be you family.” Weiss, ever the breaker of silence, declared.

“We will be your sisters, your mothers, your friends, and your fathers. We will be everything for you.” Claudine added, wanting to share these feelings, just like how her mom had made her feel when it was just the two of them remaining.

Those words were too good to be true. Too kind. Too rewarding a promise. Diana searched their eyes. She searched their body languages, their words, and their souls.

She searched and found their loyalty, sincerity, and truthfulness.

And she cried.

//-//-//-//-//

They woke up late the following morning, opting to have some toast with jam and hot milk. An easy fix from the things they found in their already stacked cupboards. While cleaning up after a filling meal, they heard a phone go off in one of the rooms.

Identifying it as hers, Claudine goes off to retrieve it, her sisters waving her off as they continued cleaning up.

A few quiet minutes passed, and then the actress came bounding down the hall. frantic in her running about. Once she reached her worried companions, she cries a heart-wrenching sob. The two elders asked what was wrong, and when Claudine says that she had received a call from the hospital, the two are willing to accompany her with no questions asked.

They soon learn of what Claudine had been unable to tell them the day before. Her mother who had been admitted in the hospital for a while, and had been the primary reason for the actress to return to Japan, had a critical attack that morning, and upon their arrival at the hospital, she now rested unconscious.

Diana and Weiss did not know how to comfort Claudine the way she did for them. When they met her, she was feisty, determined, willful, independent and strong. Able to stand on her own two feet, so to speak.

But now they realized she was only able to stand because she had someone behind her, supporting her always. Unconditionally.

And that support was now laying motionless on a hospital bed, the beeps of a machine eerily looming around their atmosphere, rousing such scary prospects.

Claudine sobbed hours upon hours straight, and the pair could only helplessly watch her do so.

They could do nothing, not while the girl’s mother was in such a critical state, no one knowing if she’d ever wake up again.

---

She woke up.

It was late in the afternoon, and Claudine had fallen asleep from all the crying, head rested on her arms on her mom’s bedside.

The woman blinked the sleep away, eyes scanning the room and landing on two strangers, two women who awkwardly bowed their introductions, trying to explain why they were in the room of someone they had just met today. “Hello, um.” They bowed slightly. “We are… well… we are S-Saijou-no… Claudine’s sisters.” One with streaks of mint in her blonde locks tried, scared of the older woman’s reaction to this news.

“I know.”

“What?!” Shocked, they listened to the giggling mother explain why.

She began to express her regrets with the man known as Jacques. It was a mistake. Everything involving him was.

It was a corporation party for a show she had performed in. And the man was one of the sponsors. She had been forced to drink, coerced, probably slipped something strange, and when she woke up…

Weiss face was contorted in disgusted anger. “That man should just get arrested already.” She seethed. They knew it would take a little more effort than just reporting it to police, however. Especially since it had been nineteen years ago. But hey, he had so many faults, couldn’t they just… get him for any of those?

And then she remembered why Diana and Claudine were claimed as his children in the first place. He always tried to look for loopholes out of prison. He just had so much undeserved power. Weiss hoped it would bite him in the ass one day.

They swapped stories until the orange sky turned dark blue, and visiting hours were almost coming to a close. Claudine was breathing softly, eyes puffy, body relaxed. Her mother petted through golden mane, leaning down to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. She then turned to her daughter’s sisters, rose-red eyes, making a life-time request, plea to them.

“Please… take care of her.” They saw her fist tighten for a moment, before relaxing again. “She is the love of my life.” If Weiss used to think that that title could only be applied to romantic partners, her perception was given a fresh wash.

Love of your life. To be able to call someone that, such a pure unadulterated love towards another human being... it was something special. And probably something she herself had yet to experience. Her younger sister truly was blessed, as she claimed. It was clear why she grew up, able to be satisfied with her family life. Claudine surely felt the same for her mother.

Maybe someday, they too…

They stayed a few more minutes, simply waiting until Claudine would wake up. She soon did, and they pushed her to spend the remaining time with her mom right until the last minute before visiting hours would officially be over.

They thought they would have to pry Claudine away from her mother as she had spent almost the entire time hugging her, speaking from time to time, but mostly just holding her wordlessly.

But the girl really was a mature, grounded lass. It was amazing, inspiring, and… a bit sad, they’d admit. What else had she been through to grow this resilient?

They walked home a slow pace. No one had said any word.

The nighttime breeze hit them coldly and they shivered. Then, each sister awkwardly took a hand, at the same time, as if they shared some form of telepathy. It made them feel warmer.

And so they continued their walk home together-

There was a collective growl of stomachs, along wlith blushing and chuckling.

And so they continued their walk to the nearest convenience store instead, grabbing a few chicken nuggets and hotdog buns, some juice, and a few chocolates. Then they went on home.

They learned a lot about each other today. However, it appeared as though there was even more to learn. There always was when it came to getting to know other people. And along with becoming familiar with each other, they’d discover many more of each other’s struggles and troubles.

They’d encounter their own as a family together as well.

But it really didn’t matter anymore, did it?

They could conquer anything. They really did believe they could conquer anything.

Together, they could.

A/N: It’s 2:15am and my brain is fried. I have to re-enroll for my second semester classes and make my mom’s modules haha. Anyway, The picture I have for this AU’s Diana is actually still reserved, but the soft kind around her sisters. She’ll be cold around other people tho. Kind of meek, in a sense, but that has to do with how bad she’s had it growing up. And although Claud is the youngest, she acts like the mother. Weiss, I can definitely see as the middle child haha. Weiss’ tsundere aspects and Claudine’s slightly prideful self make for a wonderful dynamic in interactions. I love it. Diana is like the regulator of their passionate bickering. It’s like icecream on a hot cookiebrowny. I think.

Comments, kudos, reblogs, let’s go? Please? I’m desperate for feedback haha.

~Shintori Khazumi

#fanfic #rwby x lwa x starira #rwby #starira #revue starlight #shoujo kageki revue starlight #lwa #Little Witch Academia #diana cavendish #weiss schnee #claudine saijou #saijou claudine #eventual pairings #family dynamics #crossover #au

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comebeonetwothree · 3 years ago

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Blog #8: Country Roads

07/13/2021

Currently driving through roads where pro-life billboards are placed in front of graveyards… we are officially on the road back home.

Traveling fast but seeing the most we have while covering 1,500 miles and two time zones in the last week. 900 miles to go. We jumped from Portland to northern and southern Montana then all the way through to Chicago… our last stop ;(

We met some really nice people out here- the kind of people that want to take time out of their day to interact with you. People actually smile at you and mean it when they say “have a good day.”

There were a lot of experiences this week that were indescribable. All senses were at full throttle from sleeping in the heart of Portland to camping in National Parks.

Being our last stretch of the trip, it has been hard to not feel sad when we are closing such a big chapter of our life. It’s a weird feeling of being sad but also still being so excited for the next stop. I hope the excitement doesn’t end.

Who

Who is ready to rumble…

In Portland we got to meet up with Maya’s cousin, Michael and his daughter Thea. He moved out there 13 years ago and never looked back.

He was telling us he did a similar trip with his college buddies back in the day and fell in love with the city, so moved there shortly after the trip.

Sounds fun, might fuck around and move…

Batman was ready to rumble, and fumble and everything in between. While whitewater rafting in Glacier National Park, we had the pleasure of riding with Batman The Guide. Batman, because you can’t change who you are but if you can always choose Batman.

He had been living in Montana for 17 years after moving from Oregon. He had previously worked in the park as a shuttle bus driver and recently switched over to a whitewater rafting instructor.

He was a funny fucking dude; the whole crew was super hyped but he had a comedic sense that made it an entertaining day.

While on the water, we were joking around and splashing the neighboring rafts, an independent rafter said they will bomb us with beers if we splash them. One of the other people on the boat yelled back, “Are they full beers?” and they responded by launching three full miller lite beers at our raft.

At the end of our tour, Batman gave us the three beers then we dedicated those three beers to him with a funnel.

More Friends!!! Its wild how many people we got to see throughout this trip. Hitting Yellowstone National Park, we met up with Mayas friends from home: Cole, Jamie and Declan.

They were just starting their cross-country trip from Nyack, NY, hitting the Northern route to the southern, vs our trip ending in the North. Funny coincident.

We camped out with them for two nights… it was too beautiful to just stay one night, so we pushed back our trip to badlands and stayed the extra night.

We were all out at this joint called Buffalo Bar, it had a great outdoor area with corn hole, ring toss and puppiesss. There is something so fulfilling in petting random dogs with a beer in your hand.

This one dog I was petting had an exceptional owner who was traveling him across states to bring him home. I spoke with the owner for quite a while, she was so friendly about letting me pet her dog. She really was doing it all, back at home she has three kids and two other dogs.

When people hear about our travels, their reactions usually make us realize how cool it is to have the opportunity to do a trip like this.

Many times they wish they did the same when they were our age, *cough, cough, go travel right now, cough, cough.*

This woman explained how she jumped right into working out of school and has always regretted it. Her children were already teenagers so I told her she should get out there and do it. Traveling her new dog home was a great start to the on-the-go lifestyle, she seemed to be enjoying it.

I later found out she picked up our tables tab… thank you Jennifer, you have a heart of gold and a generous soul. She explained her hopes that her kids will one day get out there and see the world like she always wished, and we were accomplishing. It was a pass it forward request, when I am able to cover the bill of a lovely traveling stranger. I hope I cross paths with this family eventually and pay it forward for her children that may travel.

What

What a reality…

The National Park pass is something you buy and are given access to all the national parks in the US. We got one in the beginning of the trip knowing we would be reaching quite a few parks. Unfortunately, we lost it after just seeing the Grand canyon.

It fell in a black hole… the area where your dashboard and windshield meet. Remember this when you put shit on the dashboard. It can slide right down to its death, the only way to get the shit out is by taking off the windshield.

Those passes are irreplaceable, of course.

In badlands, we posted up around 10 p.m. in our hammocks. It was a new experience for us, we thought hey its our last time camping, lets try it a new way.

We set our hammocks up underneath this podium and slept there. It was perfect for a quick and easy set up/clean up. There was a solid amount of people around us, so we weren't too worried about getting attacked by coyotes again.

Where

When driving to Portland we drove through the Redwood National Forest. This made me realize how long this Earth has been around.

Trees take a while to grow, and these trees were as thick as three full grown pine trees and as tall as two stacked on top of each other.

Neck breaking tall.

After crossing through, we hit the upper west coast and traveled on route 101 until we hit Portland. It was filled with jaw dropping views, so much so I woke Mary and Maya up every 5 minutes to show them the views. Most times it was the same view as before, just with a new massive rock to look at.

It was a relatively foggy day, so we couldn’t see certain lookout points, but there was something so majestic about the fog within the forests and hanging on the coast.

There were points where you cross over a bridge and there was nothing around you, just white. It appeared as being stuck in a dream or driving my bitchass to heaven.

Arriving in Portland, we stayed at a place in ChinaTown. It was so cute and located on top of a great deli, Charlie’s Deli.

We checked out a bunch of shops and stores while in Portland. While we were walking around, this coffee shop had the sweetest workers. They enjoyed interacting with their customers and weren’t just looking to take your money.

Portland is filled with mockingly friendly people, they weren’t mocking anyone though, they were just that fucking friendly. They actually want to converse with people... what a concept.

For dinner we went to this food truck pod place, which is about 15 different food trucks serving food, with a communal sitting area to eat the food.

We met up with Maya’s cousin there for a drink and to catch up.

Hitting Glacier National Park, we started our camping excursion. We started off sleeping in our car since we arrived late to our campground after driving 10 hours to get there. It was pretty comfortable and with the knowledge of bear attacks in the area, it was a secure place to sleep.

While in Glacier, we decided to go whitewater rafting, a whole new way of seeing the parks. It was so dope, the rapids were on the weak side since the heat waves.

After rafting, we found a great lake front public access point where we hung our hammocks up and took a nice long nap.

There are lakes EVERYWHERE here in Montana and great fishing! Let’s travel and fish all over Montana, okay? Cool.

We waited until 5 p.m. when the park lets you in without a pass, to do a sunset hike in the park. We took Going-to-the-sun road to the highline hike, where we got to see some wild animals!

In the parking lot we got to see a horned sheep (looks like a ram) and more mountain goats!! We saw three full grown goats and one baby goat.

This horned sheep actually stormed at us and we had to jump into our car. The people that parked in the spot before us left their cheetos on the ground. This guy was hungry as fuck I guess. Relentless to say the least.

This National Park is my new favorite spot-on Earth. Spread my ashes here. Moseying through the park was a full body experience.

All your senses are involved, the smells of the forest are beyond refreshing. The touch of the crisp air brings goosebumps to your skin, and the taste of wind in your face emphasizes the overload of oxygen in that area.

There are no commercialized areas for hours outside the park. Just a fuck ton of trees.

The sounds of different birds chirping harmonizes in your ears with the wind blowing and the rocks falling below you. Your sight is spiked the highest out of the senses. These views seemed so unreal they appeared fake. When you finally touch the grounds around you, you realize how really unreal this land is.

Heading to Yellowstone the following day brought a similar element of nostalgia. We camped right outside the park, on the state border lines of Wyoming and Idaho.

Our friends we stayed with luckily still had their national park pass, so we all took our car and got into the park early that next morning. We got to see some bison! Fun Fact: Bison and Buffalos are actually the same thing.

There were so many beautiful trees and hot springs throughout the park. So many cool colors to see. We also watched Old Faithful blow her hole!!

Getting to Badlands eventually, we got a campground directly in the park. Since we got there later than five it was free. We posted up our hammocks for our last night camping on the trip ;( when we woke up, the views were so cool.

Badlands is a shit ton of clay forming giant sandcastle hills all over. But there is so much green for a desert it was an interesting combination.

When

When can we shower…

We have completed so much of the drive home its wild. We stayed in an apartment for the first two nights in Portland and then spent the rest of the week camping.

We hit our record of days without a shower… 5 full ass days. I’m so proud of Mary and Maya, they really can’t stand being dirty.

When driving long ass 10 hour plus drives for a week you find yourself enjoying nothingness. Head empty is such a vibe after jamming to music and listening to murder mystery podcasts for hours on end.

Our music ranges widely, depending on crashing periods. Whenever Mary is driving, she is either blasting screamo edm music or 2000s pop music.

Maya plays some bomb bops; I really don’t know any of the songs, but it has opened my mind to all these new artists!!

I personally love the murder mystery podcasts, there were a few times I had to change it though because it got too spooky. In the case of this week, we were driving to camp in Montana and a murder mystery came on about the Montana Child Killer… dope.

Why

I have ruled out ever living in a city. From the driving on busy ass streets to the dirty smells everywhere, I will happily reside somewhere in the country. Where? Still have no idea… Why? Because there are so many pros and cons to all these places we saw.

I guess i'll just have to come back out here!

I’m really thinking somewhere up north on the west coast. The west coast will forever hold my heart, but I really don’t have the money or the ability to live in a city out there. Maybe one day with a bombass money making job.

Coming back to the East has made me realize how much nicer people are out west and how much slower of a pace it is.

How

How are we coming up on our last spot…

We are hitting our last stop… Chicago. Shoutout to my cousin for going to school here and letting us use and abuse his apartment! Hehe just kidding we will take care of it for ya, Owen!

It feels so strange to be this close to New York. Our license plates being from New York is no longer that cool.

I’m going to miss people peeping our plates and asking us about our travels and/or wishing us luck!

Thanks everyone throughout, we are almost accomplished with this chapter!

#blogging for beginners #fuck it #post grad #cross country #jubilation #travel #beginners guide #covid made me do it #road trip #bloggersdiaries

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jacksoncclark · 3 years ago

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Maya is gone. Looking back at this record, I see clearly what I was going through. I am happy I can look back here and see what has changed. What I still have to change. What I can’t just leave forever.

The relationship was broken, on a deep level.

I am devastated at the moment. Nothing else has so changed my life in an instant then when I talked to her on the 16th of June, 2021. Lost all appetite and couldn't sleep for more than 4 hours. We broke up on the 16th of February. Our anniversary was on the 15th. We started dating on November 15th, 2018. Our relationship lasted until early summer in 2020. So we were together for about 2 years I would say, although it was less time officially. But it feels like forever.

I would chalk it up to environment and phase in life. But it’s unmistakable looking here at the pain and confusion. Love is complicated and a mystery. Passion and indifference pass together close. Why does love exist? Why does it persevere? I know I was weak then, and I know I am still weak now. Would anything be different now? I think so...the time where I was out of school was so much better mentally for me.

But, the relationship needed to end, at some point. It was inevitable. Maya needs what she needs, and she needs to try to get what she needs. And that involves walking forward into the future, into a new question. She had to discontinue her love for me. Bless her.

Pain. Loss. Grief. I miss her. I want to know her. Looking into the future without the shadow of this partner is simply depressing and lonely.

Regret for not loving her when I could. Regret for meeting her when I was so turned on myself. Regret for not knowing myself and what mattered.

Joy for meeting her when I did, and her love, God’s love, confronting me, giving me what I could have never asked for. Miraculous growth that is proof of God. It is undoubtable looking back.

I wish there was a future here. I wish it didn’t have to die. I don’t know how to process that...how to move beyond it. Hopefully my therapy will help.

I am going back to church, and will become involved in the Episcopal church.

I am committing to a year of therapy. 52 sessions.

I am committing to prayer, and a life of determined solitude. Of discovering myself through disciplined silence. Book of Common Prayer study. Boo

I am committing to loosening my grip on what I pictured my future to be. I will listen for your will, and until then, I will simply toil and live. I could become a gardener and be happy. I give up my time, my future to You.

I do not expect anything from these activities other then beginning a long walk. I will listen, and hope and pray for health and love and friendship and joy and passion. But I will also reinforce the silence that is God.

Some days there is rain. Other days there is sun.

Wind comes and wind goes.

There is a present, that is constantly becoming the past.

My memory is bad.

And the sunlight obliterates. It is grass on the skin, or rest, or sweat.

I wonder what I will be in a year. I hope right now to see Maya again. I hope we can be friends. I hope that God can save me from myself, as he has done in the past. I wonder what therapy will bring.

I still love her, desperately. I love her more than I ever have, presently. Only now, with a new environment, and with her putting me behind her.

7/1/2021

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years ago

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Banished (Part 28)

*Not My Gif*

Summary: When the 100 was sent to the ground, Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. Having been locked up for almost 8 years, how will she react to surviving on Earth? Especially when she gets banished…

Post Date: 12-13-19

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

~Master~

~Banished Master~

*Based off episode 2x15 of The 100, Blood Must Have Blood (Part 1)

Since you thought you saw your mom, you’ve been trying to take it easy. You wanted to be here. You needed to be here, but everything seemed to be going a million miles a minute. The Grounders hadn’t made your life any easier, neither had seeing your dead mom though. You didn’t know what was happening but no matter how much you tried to shake off the feeling and thoughts, it just didn’t work and you found yourself thinking more and more about Mount Weather.

Clarke caught on quickly. She was shocked her mom even allowed you to leave Camp Jaha after the injuries you’ve endured without a proper check up. But here you were. And something was up.

Your non-stitched leg bounced against the ground as you fixated on your mom sitting by the fire in front of you. Her eyes met yours with for a split second before Clarke tapped your shoulder, pulling your attention away as you jumped.

“Are you okay?” She asked as you looked back to your mom, only for her to have disappeared once again. You let out a shaky breath and plastered on a smile.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You lied as Clarke took the spot next to you, eying your leg and the bruises that had formed across your collarbone from the building.

She shook her head. “My mom shouldn’t have let you leave.”

“Yeah, didn’t really give her much of a choice.” Lexa caught your attention as Stg. Miller walked into the camp, a container of hydrazine in his hands. “Let’s go, Lexa wants us.” You stood up as you wavered. Clarke was on her feet, holding you up as her eyes widened.

“Y/N, you need to get checked out, if not for your blood loss then for your head. I think you have a concussion.” You ignored her concern as you moved towards Lexa. “You can’t do this.”

“You’re not in charge of me. You’re not my leader Clarke.” You snapped, spinning on your heel to face her. Clarke looked away from you, her jaw locking.

“I’m saying this as a friend Y/N.”

You scoffed and bit your lip. “Yeah, you aren’t much of that either.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “You let a bomb drop on my head. And Octavia’s, your mom, Kane, Indra. You didn’t even try to save us.”

“That’s not true.” Her voice cracked as she held back a layer of tears. You looked at her, the face of a girl regretful of her choices as you took a seat again. Clarke felt hopeful as she joined you, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I need to do this Clarke. I need to be a part of this fight.” You whispered. It felt like years before Clarke looked at you, her tears finally settled against her eyelids.

“Why?”

You took in a deep breath as you and Clarke stood up, moving towards Lexa’s tent. “I’m tired of being the reason why people die. I... I want to save someone.” Clarke understood completely. After everything, killing people was the last thing she wanted to do. But if that was how she was going to save her friends, then so be it.

You walked into the tent with Clarke, but you moved to stand on the other side of Lexa before Sgt. Miller entered. They gave Clarke the hydrazine, apologizing for Abby’s absence before Clarke said it was fine.

“The wounded in Tondc need her more.” She glanced at you which went unnoticed by all but you and Lexa. David walked away as the field commanders circled around the table in front of you.

“Today’s the day we get our people back.” Lexa announced, getting everyone’s attention. “The enemy thinks they are safe behind their door and they’re not. When realize that, they will fight back. Hard.”

Clarke looked down at the map of the mountain. “This is a rescue mission. We are not here to wipe them out. There are people inside that mountain that have helped us, children who have nothing to do with this war. We kill their soldiers, their leadership if we have to, but we are there to rescue our people. Is that clear?” Mumbles came from everyone as they agreed to Clarke’s conditions. “Good. Then let’s begin.” She explained the plan with the 4 groups, Raven and Wick go to the Dam, Indra and Octavia leading through the mines, Bellamy and the Grounders in Mount Weather, and Clarke, Lexa, and you by the front door. “According to Maya, the electromagnetic locking system has one flaw. When the power goes out, it disengages. That's where Raven's team comes in. The mountain's electricity is generated at Philpott Dam. By now, they've taken the turbine room.” Clarke told you all about Raven and Wick who were supposed to blow the power.

“There is a catch.”

Of course there was, you thought.

“A backup generator inside the mountain. If the lock is still functioning when that backup power kicks in, we'll never get that door open, we'll never get our people back.”

“How long do we have before Backup power kicks in?” You asked as you crossed your arms, stepping closer to the map.

Clarke sighed. “One minute. That’s the window.” You nodded slowly. You weren’t sure if this was going work. Even if everything went perfectly, one minute was a hard deadline. David agreed with your thoughts and suggested having Bellamy do it, but Clarke shook her head. “Leaving them without power that long would kill them. And besides, we lost contact with Bellamy.”

“What?” You glared at her, obviously not getting that memo. “When?”

“After he took out the fog.” She admitted and frowned, her head tilting apologetically. You scoffed, forgetting the other people in the room.

“You weren’t going to tell me?” You asked as Lexa grabbed your shoulder.

“Bellamy’s a warrior. He’ll be fine.” She tried to convince you as you stopped glaring at Clarke.

“He better be.” You muttered to yourself. Lexa heard you but made no indication as Clarke moved on and finished explaining the plan.

When she was done, Lexa stepped up, looking everyone in their eyes as she made her final speech. “The mountain has cast a shadow over these woods for too long. They've hunted us, controlled us, turned us into monsters. That ends today. Thanks to our alliance with the Sky People, the mountain will fall. As Clarke said, we spare the innocent. As for the guilty... Jus dren just daun.”

The grounders chanted the words over and over again and Clarke joined in, but you couldn’t. All you could think about was the possibility of Bellamy in Mount Weather and you no longer have contact with him. What if he was caught? What if he was already gone and you had no idea.

Losing this war was not an option.

You flickered your sights to the corner of the room, the sun filtered in through the rip of the tents as your breathing picked up and your mom stood there once again.

Why? Why was she always there?!

“Y/N?” Lincoln came up next to you, his hand landing on the small of your back but you didn’t look at him. “Y/N.”

“What?” You finally pulled your eyes away and looked at him. He narrowed his eyes and looked where you had been staring off but saw nothing.

“Bellamy will be fine.” He wasn’t sure what caused your worries but he assumed it involved Bellamy’s safety. “Come on. Let’s talk.” He lead you outside, away from the masses before you both sat against two trees, looking at each other.

Neither of you said anything as you sat in each other’s comfort, listening to the calls of the grounders around you. Your eyes were shut as you stared into the sky and Lincoln watched you closely.

“This is nice.” You told him as he nodded, looking up into the sky.

“It’s a good distraction. Gets you out of your head.”

“I could really use that.” You let out a quiet laugh as Lincoln furrowed his brow.

“What’s going on with you Y/N?” He asked as you groaned, falling onto the ground completely.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Lincoln watched your actions, seeing the way you took deep breaths as he moved to lie next to you. “Well maybe if you let people in they would stop asking.”

You turned to look at him, your mouth down turned as you sigh. “You really want to know what’s going on in my head?” He nodded. You didn’t know what to say, was he serious? “Maybe some other time.” You whispered before looking up at the sky. Lincoln was disappointed you didn’t open up a little but he knew you heard him. He knew you’d let someone in, even if it wasn’t him. “Do you think we’re gonna win?” You asked him, peaking through one eye. Lincoln didn’t know how to answer you as he glanced over to Lexa, seeing her talking to Clarke before he sighed. “You don’t have to answer. It was a dumb question.”

“There’s no winning in war, Y/N.” You gave him a sad smile before standing up, wiping the dirt off your pants before looking down at Lincoln.

“Why do you have be so depressing, Lincoln?” You joked as the man chuckled, standing on his feet before the two of you walked back. “Thanks for the quick distraction. Now, let’s go open a door.”

It wasn’t that long afterwards where you were standing outside Mount Weather, watching Monroe drill holes into the door. The sound of the drilling stopped and made you look up, Monroe turning around in satisfaction. “That should do it. Bombs away.”

Sgt. Miller walked up to the door as Clarke told him to be careful and he nodded. You and Lincoln shared a look before following Miller’s father. He pulled out the container of Hydrazine, his hands shaking heavily as you placed yours over his, comforting him. “You can do this.” You told him as he looked up at you then to Lincoln.

“What if we’re too late?” He asked you as you felt a lump form in your throat at the similarity of your fears.

“What if we aren’t? Draw your strength from your son.”

David looked between the two of you and himself. All coming from different backgrounds, a Grounder, a Guard, and a prisoner, but all in the same place. “The mountain has taken too much from all of us, hasn’t it.” You felt Lincoln’s eyes on you as your hand trailed off David’s hand, letting him put the bomb in the hole.

You needed to wait for Raven and Wick before the bombs could go off, so you stood there staring at the door and playing with the handle of the sword on your hip as Clarke approached you for the second time that day.

“Think this will work?” She asked as you nodded slowly.

“Don’t really have any other choice, now do we?” You gave her a playful smile which she happily returned. “Clarke. About this morning, what I said? I don’t blame you for Tondc. I can’t imagine if you told us where we’d end up. Bellamy would’ve been caught and we’d be dead anyways. That’s not on you.”

Clarke didn’t know what to say, she was grateful you understood and wasn’t holding it over her head. “Thank you.” She said before glancing over at Lexa. You followed her gaze as Lexa walked up to the two of you.

“This is taking too long.” Clarke told her as Lexa stood in between the two of you, staring at the metal in front of you all. You let the two girls be as you moved to stand alone, needing to sort your thoughts out. You could’ve sworn you heard your name followed by come to Polis but you didn’t listen to their conversation. You wished things would hurry up, but your stomach dropped to the ground when gunshots came across the forest you turned to Clarke quickly. “It’s coming from the damn.”

“They know we’re going for the power.”

“They know we’re going for the door.” Lexa finished for her. You didn’t know what was going to happen next as Lincoln shouted something in Trig.

“As soon as those lights go off, you push that button.” David told Clarke, putting a hand on your shoulder to comfort you like you had for him.

Lincoln nodded, looking at the grounders around him before Clarke. “We’ll do the rest.”

The lights on the door went out and Clarke and you shared a look. “She did it.”

“One minute starting.” David said as you Lincoln tossed you a bow he had.

“It’s not yours-”

“But it will work.” You assured him with a smirk. Time kept ticking as the shield wall not 10 feet in front of you fell and David tried to run and trigger it manually. You knew he wasn’t going to make it and Clarke stopped him, telling him they will find a new way.

“There is no other way.” Lexa said as you looked past the rock you hid behind, Lincoln by your side as you both looked at the door.

“You don’t need one.” You said as you got Lincoln’s attention, pointing at the door with your bow as Lincoln nodded.

“10 seconds!” You both lit an arrow on fire and placed it in your bow. Clarke counted down from 5 as Lincoln and you aimed, taking one last breath before firing and hitting the bomb straight on.

It worked.

The door almost exploded as everyone paused, turning towards Lexa and Clarke for their next command.

“We need to get to the ridge and take out the shooters.” Lexa said as you nodded, grabbing some more arrows.

“I’m on it.”

“No!” She practically screamed, grabbing onto your arm. Her eyes bore into your as you crouched back down to her eye level. “You and Lincoln stay with Clarke. When the shooting stops, get that door open.” She commanded you. You were taken back by the fact she didn’t want you to go with her but non the less, you obliged. She took off, leaving you all there watching.

Lincoln was the first to move after Lexa left, moving from behind your cover as you shouted his name.

“Lexa did it.” He announced as you sighed in relief, letting him pull you off the ground. Sergeant Miller groaned under the scraps of metal as Clarke told everyone to make sure he’s okay before turning to you.

“They’ll be waiting just inside the door.”

“Good.” You mumbled before Lincoln led two lies towards the door and attached ropes. Everyone pulled, the door barely as you tapped your foot. “Come on.” You whispered eagerly, watching the men strain against the rope before the door finally inched open.

“Attack!”

Everyone cheered, about to fulfill her order before Lexa returned. She yelled for everyone to stand down as you loosened your stance, looking for her in the crowd.

She walked with Emerson. You and Clarke froze before you meeting her halfway.

“Lexa?” You eyed Emerson up and down but he remain unfazed. “What is this?”

The door pushed open more as you spun around. “Lexa?” You whispered as grounder after grounder came stumbling out of Mount Weather.

Just grounders.

“They’re surrendering?” Clarke asked as she came to your side, watching everyone before looking at Lexa.

Emerson just smirked. “Not quite.” Clarke didn’t get it but you did. Lexa cut a deal, her people and the grounders stop fighting.

“Please don’t do this.” Clarke pled as you stared at lexa, unable to form any words.

“I’m sorry Clarke.” She said and glanced to you but her eyes left almost as quickly.

“You didn’t tell me?” Lexa refused to look in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A grounder stepped between you and her as you glared at him, your fists clenched together and you could feel your shaking as you separated yourself from the man, your head dropping almost instantly.

“Commander, let us fight.” Lincoln stepped forward taking your place as you took a few steps back. Lexa declined Lincoln’s request before turning to you.

“All our people withdraw. Those are our terms.” She said but you didn’t move or say anything. Clarke’s mouth dropped open as

Lexa began walking, standing in front of you. “Choose Y/N.”

What were you supposed to do?

Follow Clarke? Save your friends and possibly get kicked out again? Or Follow Lexa? Join her at Polis where she promised you could join.

Your feet worked faster than your mind and you found yourself walking behind Lexa in the forest.

“Y/N!” Clarke called after you. “Bellamy’s in there. Jasper, Monty, Harper. You can’t just leave them.” Clarke yelled at you as you slowed down, barely turning to her before carrying on. Your mind was reeling as Lexa glanced at you and nodded, both of you moving forward before you were out of the Skypeople’s view.

You stared down at the ground as you walked, falling more and more behind as Lexa turned to look. She said your name, gaining your attention as you finally stopped.

“I can’t.” You whispered into the night air. She sent the rest of her people ahead a little before joining you. “I can’t leave them.”

“Them or him?” She asked as you sucked in a breath, avoiding her eyes. She knew what you were doing, she knew you needed to do this. “Hodnes laik kwelnes.” You gave her a sad smile before grabbing your sword off your hip and held it out to her.

“I know. But you’re right. I can’t leave him.” Lexa just stared at you, inhaling deeply as she looked down a your silver blade. The handle was shaking as you gripped it, waiting for Lexa to take it from you but she didn’t. Instead she gave a small smile and pushed the blade towards you. You were surprised but didn’t want her to see.

“We will meet again.” She told you as you nodded, your mouth opening slightly as you chuckled.

“Yes we will.” You took one last glance around the grounder before turning back to Mount Weather where Bellamy waited for a rescue.

Clarke had watched as you followed Lexa, turning to the door in hopes of finding another plan.

“Clarke! Let’s go, we’ll find reinforcements.” David called out to her as she remained planted to the ground.

“Clarke. Come on.” Clarke turned around, facing Monroe as she sighed. “It’s over.” She said before leaving Clarke. Clarke didn’t want to listen as she turned around.

“It can’t be over.” Clarke whispered to herself as she stared at the doors to Mount Weather. She didn’t know what to do to save her friends.

You came up behind her, hesitating before touching her shoulder to make her turn around. “It’s not over until we get our friends back.”

What did you think?

All Tags Open

***Reblogging with Banished Tags***

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @sadn0va @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @nyxxxwtp @danielabetancourth

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ironxkid · 4 years ago

Note

👨 = What’s your muse’s relationship with their father, what made it that way?

Family Headcanons

((dfgjdghj I was literally just talking about this to my best friend yesterday xD

so, Carter’s relationship with Tony is... messy, tbh - and, I just wanna make a disclaimer again real quick, this is just going off of Carter’s general canon and can absolutely be different if plotted otherwise with Tony muses!

Carter absolutely adores her father - no doubt about that. And she always has! She loves him dearly, and it was definitely a blind adoration for him when she was little - he was still the self-destructive mess we see in the movies, but he managed to keep her sheltered from it all. Honestly, that... all began to fall apart when she was 11, shortly after her father was kidnapped

her inability to communicate was something she absorbed from her father. She developed severe separation anxiety when he returned home, and became codependent on him during this time - while the separation anxiety was something she was able to curb and basically free herself from it completely, the codependency... is still an issue, and something that definitely plays a role in why their relationship is messy

the reason why things began to fall apart, was because of said codependency and separation anxiety. Upon returning home, Carter was practically glued to her father’s side - because of that, she began to see his flaws. She began to realize he was not the perfect person she had fully believed him to be, and began to see his self-destructive behavior. At first, a lot of that was covered by him working on the Iron Man suit, and it all came crashing down when he went back to Gulmira to destroy as many of his weapons as he could

I’ve actually been meaning to write something for this, but Carter overhears Tony telling Pepper, “There is the next mission, and nothing else.”

and that is something that continues to haunt her. She needed her father (she still does, but far more then), and to hear him say that, with absolutely no regard to her or Pepper... really messed her up. She never said anything about it to him, of course, and she still loved him dearly, but it changed something in her - she began to realize there was so much to him that she was overlooking, and it just continued to go downhill from there. The communication became an even bigger issue when she learned Tony had been dying from Vanko - when he’d called Tony and Tony said he sounded good for a dead man, which prompted him to throw it back at him, Carter was there. She heard the entire exchange because she was sitting next to her father, and it did shake her trust in him temporarily

but, the biggest issue that carries on as she grows older is her codependency and inability to communicate. She... went through a lot, privately, at school that she refused to speak of to anyone, even though she needed to (especially given that, with one of those events, the school had more or less gotten Tony involved), and although her trust had been fully restored in her father, she couldn’t get herself to tell him. She knew there was so much he was going through, that she didn’t want to add to it - she didn’t want to become a burden. It’s also the reason why she never told him just how bad she’d gotten during the events of IM3, because she didn’t want him worrying about her stability and she was far too ashamed of how low her mental state had plummeted

I feel like this is getting dangerously close to suggesting that Tony’s to blame, so I want to clarify this now: a lot of this is fully Carter’s own doing. They’re similar in many ways, and, unfortunately, it does include being self-destructive. Carter has put herself in a position, something she is fully aware of, that has ultimately led to her being stuck in her father’s shadow, and she’s choking on it. She won’t say anything to him, won’t do anything to help herself, and won’t even talk about it to her therapist - unfortunately, that is from her inability to communicate, which did stem from her father. So, in that regard, Tony is, inadvertently, to blame for that, but the rest is on her

anyway, her keeping herself in his shadow, and ultimately seeing herself as an extension of him and not her own person, has ended up straining their relationship. She won’t reach out to him for help unless she feels like she has no choice, but it’s also made her becoming his champion, albeit... rather reluctantly at times. She knows he’s a good man deep down, and she still loves him dearly, but she feels like she has to defend him when people try to rip into him, even if it’s on a matter of his own doing, and it takes a toll on her. There’s only so many times she can run in circles insisting he’s good while he does something that suggests otherwise, and she knows it

and there are times where she does get angry with him. With AoU, there’s an obvious tension between them - she’s angry that he’d built Ultron in the first place without talking to anyone other than Bruce, especially considering he used the very thing that had mind controlled Clint and so many others thanks to Loki a few years prior. She doesn’t understand why her father went to that extreme, and with him shutting her out, it doesn’t do either of them any good

going backwards a bit, in regards to what I mentioned in the headcanon of her relationship with Maya, there is an underlying fear of Carter’s that, maybe, her father doesn’t want her. That he took her in out of obligation, and her shutting herself down around him is her way of minimizing any risk of him regretting his decision or resenting her. What she fails to see (despite wanting to believe it true), is that that isn’t even remotely the case at all, and it’s just something else she unintentionally is hurting herself with. Mix that with her codependency issues, where she needs him to be able to remain steady, she’s going to do everything in her power to keep herself in the background and keep the appearance of someone far more put together than she actually is

it’s just... Carter feels the need to try and protect him, and actually, another huge reason for that stems back to when she was 11. She had seen Obadiah rip out Tony’s reactor, and she had fought him in a futile attempt to save her father - in hindsight, she blames herself for not staying hidden. She knows, had she done so, she would’ve been able to get the other reactor to her father much sooner, and believes she would have been to blame had her father died that night. She feels the need to make up for that, even if it ends up wearing her down

however, Tony is the first person Carter is going to turn to if she ever needs someone else there for her. She trusts her father and still loves him dearly despite it all, and there is a part of her that still looks up to him. She enjoys helping him in his workshop when she can, and he was the one who had gotten her fully invested in astronomy, because he had seen her interest in it and encouraged her to chase it. He was the one to teach her about the different constellations and the stories behind them, and had supported her after she’d dropped out of college the first time around when she was 17, even though she had believed he was going to be majorly disappointed in her. He means the world to her, just as much as she means the world to him

#asks #headcanons #death mention tw #kidnapping mention tw #((please let me know if there's anything y'all want me to explain/revisit/add on!!#I'm hella tired and I'm gonna head to bed now bc I stayed up later than intended #but I'm not sure if this stayed coherent or if it ended up messy fsdghjfdjhk))

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vidkid20ssimblrlair · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 27: The Wolf In Sheep's Clothing (Part 1)

"Audrey! Audrey! Calm down!" DJ yelled from only a few feet away, but he sounded as if he was miles away. Too far to reach me.

I looked at Gemma. My mind was racing. My breathing labored. My katana pointed at her. I don't know when or how I escaped her sickening embrace, but I did and all I could think about was what she said. Her words repeating back to me in my head over and over again. The images of Vince bleeding from his torso and Grace's lifeless body. The Vultures had done all this? I couldn't wrap my mind around it all, but I felt rage bubbling inside me. All of it aimed at Gemma.

"You did this!"

"I did what? What are you talking about?"

"You hurt Vince. You hurt my friends. You killed Grace!"

"What? I didn't hurt anyone and Grace was killed by a rotter. Remember?" she replied still claiming ignorance. She looked over at DJ and shrugged. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"She knows Ace. She said his name! She tried to say she meant to say John and that she said Grace instead, but she said Ace. Not Grace. I heard her!"

DJ gasped. "Whoa! Whoa! What? Slow down!"

"I saved her from the zombie and she sai-"

"I said John would have never saved me. Well, he's usually too chicken shit to save me. Anyway, I called him Grace accidentally. Omar's story about her demise much like my attack just now must have been on my mind, so I said her name instead of John. That's all."

"You're lying! I know what I heard."

"Ok, so what if I said Ace? What does that have to do with Grace's death? I had nothing to do with that. I wasn't there that night. I was no way near this place."

"She described it as if she had been there, DJ. She knew the color of the cat and that it was torn to pieces. She even knew that Grace probably died following after it. We weren't even sure about that."

"Omar told me."

"Bullshit!"

"So I killed her? What did I do? Turn into a rotter and bite her on the neck and turn back?" she scoffed. She then cut her eye at DJ and whispered loudly. "I think she's having a breakdown."

"How do you know she got bit on the neck?" DJ asked eyeing her suspiciously.

"Um...uh...Omar told me. I lent my ear to him one night and he broke down telling me everything. It was heartbreaking."

"Yeah sure."

"I'm serious," she said alarmed looking from one to the other. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't believe..."

"I believe we need to talk. About that and your involvement with Ace."

B..b..but..."

"Yeah whatever, let's just get inside where it's safe," he said glancing over at the zombie's corpse. "Where's there's one, they'll be others."

We entered the house together. Gemma in front, me in the middle with my blade still drawn, and DJ bringing up the rear. He closed the door behind us and the tension returned.

She held up her hands as she stared down at my weapon and DJ stood beside me still eyeing her suspiciously.

"We need to talk. Just you, me, grandpa, and Omar. The four of us will talk in Gramps's room," he said breaking up the silence. He shot me a look. "Lower your weapon. I got it from here."

"Wait. Just the four of you? How about me? And we need to tell Madison and Nathan. The whole house needs to know."

He shook his head. "This needs to be private for now. At least till Gramps makes a decision. She'll be good as dead if Madison or Nathan caught wind of this."

"You don't understand..."

"No, you don't understand. We don't handle things with swords and guns or executions or threats. This is our house and we'll deal with it our way. Not Madison. Not Nathan. Not Wade. Not Vince. Not yours. Our way."

He placed his hand on the top of my katana and lowered it for me. He then placed his hand on Gemma's back and began guiding her to the stairs.

"No. Wait! What about me? Shouldn't I be included in this?"

He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. "No. Just sit back and chill. I'll let you know if I need you. Just...just let me handle it."

"But I'm the one who heard it!" I cried, but they were gone before I could even finish my plea. Up the stairs, they went leaving me alone in the dining room.

I pounded my fist on the table out of frustration. I didn't understand. Why was I being left out of this? What was DJ up to? I pulled out the dining room chair and sat down. I placed my head on the cool surface of the table trying to calm down, but I couldn't. I couldn't just stay out of it. I jumped up and stormed up the stairs. My feet carrying me to the end of the hall to Jones' room.

As I passed Aaron's room just inches away from my goal, I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I looked up to see Vince staring at me in the doorway.

"Where the hell are you going?" he growled.

"None of you business," I snapped feeling my anger rising again, but he shot me a look that made me instantly regret it. He grabbed hold of my shirt and yanked me into the room. I fell onto the arm of the couch and he slammed the door shut. I looked up at him aghast. "What the hell?"

"Shut up!"

"No! What is your problem?"

"That woman is in there with Jones and DJ. That's what."

"I know. I should be in there."

"For what?"

"She slipped up. Just now in the garden. I was with her. She mentioned Ace and from the way she described it, I think she was involved with Grace's death. That's what they're talking about in there in Jones' room. I can't believe they're leaving me out of it. I'm the one who heard it. Not DJ or Jones or Omar. Me! I should be in there!"

"No. You shouldn't. That woman is dangerous."

I snorted and I laid back on the couch. "No, she not. Well, I think I can handle her at least. She can't even fight off a zomb for fuck sakes. I just saved her in the garden. It grabbed her and she almost got bit."

"Don't be stupid! If you think that's how she really is than you've already lost. That's just an act."

"But you didn't see it. It grabbed her and she fell over -"

"I don't care. It's all an act. If she's one of those wack jobs, it's an act. She would have saved herself if you hadn't intervened. She's not stupid."

I groaned. "You're not listening to me. DJ told me to keep quiet, but I'll tell you the whole story."

He crossed his arms and sat down beside me. "Not going change my opinion, but go ahead."

I told him everything. From the idle chatter to the exact moment Gemma revealed her ties to the Vultures. He just sat there stone-faced. Then when I was done, he shrugged, and to my shock he seemed unmoved. His exact words: "So?"

"So? Wade said she would slip up and she did! And I was there!"

He frowned and let out a small sigh. "I don't want you talking to that woman anymore. I want you to stay away from her. The less you're involved, the better. It's best DJ and Mr. Jones handle it."

"Did you even hear me?"

"I heard you. You shouldn't have been out there with her. I told DJ to keep you away from her. I caught wind of Madison's little plan of making you her spy from Tao, so I asked DJ to keep you out of anything involving her. But that Madison. The balls on that woman. Putting you in danger. How dare her?!"

I felt like the veins in my head were about to pop from sheer rage. "What? What did you say?"

"You need to understand. She's dangerous, Audrey," he said troubled. "The other night, I snuck out to get a snack and something to drink. Aaron thinks he can keep me cooped up here, but I sneak downstairs from time to time. Anyway, I ran into her in the kitchen. Wade and Omar were on guard, but they were too busy flapping their gums to even notice me. Well, she was just standing by the sink looking out the window. I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to turn around and leave, so I said hello. She turned around. Looked at me as if she had seen a ghost and ran out. Never said a word. I saw her again a few days after that one afternoon. She was wiping the dining room table. Looked up at me and I got the same reaction. It was strange. Unnerving. She wasn't scared either. It was almost like she knew me. Like I wasn't supposed to be here. Like she knew what happened. "

"And that justifies you going behind my back and asking DJ to keep me away from big bad scary Gemma?"

"I get that you're mad, but The Vultures are ruthless murderers. I almost died out there. If Gemma is a Vulture, she was sent here for a reason and she can't be some pushover. I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"I don't need you to keep me safe! I can take care of myself!"

"Audrey..."

"How dare you go behind my back! Treating me like some kid!"

"That's not.."

"Stop treating me like some fucking child! I'm not your daughter! I'm not Maya!"

"Low blow. Low fucking blow!" he roared. He jumped up from the couch and clenched his fist as he stared down at me angrily. "Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would stop treating you like one!"

"I don't act like -!"

"Yes, you do! A spoiled insufferable one. A little girl that hides behind a tough exterior with her little sword. Waving it around like she some fucking badass, but you're no badass. No. Deep down you're just a scared little child looking for attention. Running recklessly and stupidly into everything and anything just so you can feel something. Just so you keep up this facade of a tough girl act when you're nothing more than an immature brat scared shitless like everyone else!"

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Vince..?"

"Grow the fuck up and do it fast! And keep Maya's name out your god-damned mouth!"

Before I could even utter another word, he was gone. He slammed the door with such a force I'm surprised the door frame didn't crack. I sat there in a state of shock and tears streamed down my face.

I was still so angry, but I knew I had crossed a line. He dreamed of his daughter, Maya every night. Sometimes crying out the little girl's name in his sleep. His reaction was to be expected. I fucked up and I knew it.

Part 1 of 3. To be continued...

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#sims 3 Dead on Arrival #sims 3 doa #ts3 dead on arrival #ts3 doa #dead on arrival season 2 #doa season 2 #sims 3 simblr #ts3 simblr #simblr

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ambitionsource · 5 years ago

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Hi, I am so here for all this ambition content right now. I check this page every day! I remember u guys mentioning about a rl and dasher road trip and I was wondering about that! Thank you!

hello pal!! literally so honored and happy that you’re enjoying ambition and the fact that you check our page every day... ugh you’re too sweet. hopefully the nonsense we do around here is entertaining! very happy to have you in our fandom community <3

so yes, rl + da road trip! i hope it’s okay that i took a bit to answer this, bc i wanted to ruminate on it for a bit before typing it up. so as y’all know we refer to the summer between s1 and 2 as “cruel summer” (thank u tswift), and similarly we have a code name for the summer between s2 and 3 which is “summer of love.” this is admittedly mainly because of rl, but also because a majority of the characters are in such a better headspace this summer than they were last.

boppin the rest under a read more, because i just go on... and on... and on............. (i really love rl & da)

-- Maggie

one facet of this summer is that around... july sometime, dylucasher decide they want to take a trip down to virginia beach (or the beaches in that general vicinity) because they want to check out a beach that isnt grey and cold like the ones close to them in ny, and because a trip before their last year of school together seems like a fun and Classic idea. originally they plan it for just the three of them, but somehow riley comes up and all of them agree -- especially dylan -- that it would be way more fun if she came along too. so they try to convince her to come along, which doesn’t take much convincing, it’s more so about figuring out how she’s going to get around cory because if he knew she wanted to go on a like week long trip with her boyfriend (who he doesn’t really trust) and two other boys he would probably have a heart attack.

you know, it would be like “you can’t go on an overnight trip with three boys!!!” “dad, you know dylan and asher. they’re gay. they’ve been dating for three years. they’re GAY. i do not think i’m at ALL at risk in that scenario???” fsdfSDKGDL

so riley devises a plan / cover story that involves like “going to stay with mom” for a few days, maybe a lie about staying over at isa’s or yindra’s for a couple days in there, you know, she lays out the whole lie and then bribes maya to go along with it and help cover her tracks (rl have very inverse influences on one another -- where riley sort of tames lucas and helps calm him and make him less feral, she develops a bit of a rebellious streak from him or just better identifies the nuances of which rules should be followed vs which were meant to be bent or broken..)

the good thing about this road trip is that it’s what truly cements riley’s friendship with dylan and asher. they’ve been toeing the line of friendship for like two years now (as riley said in cruel summer, she regretted not taking the time and establish a friendship with them in sophomore year before everything fell apart), and it’s kind of like it’s bound to happen. riley and asher takes a little more time to grow and develop just because of the kind of person asher is, but on this road trip dylan and riley just Click. like they were basically made to be best friends, dylan is the first person who kind intrinsically Gets riley and they match each other in terms of enthusiasm / personality / brightness. again, a friendship that’s just been Waiting to happen, and this trip really brings that to the forefront.

(on that note, i once joked that when dylan and riley get really into chatting about something and lucas zones out, they start sounding like the villagers in animal crossing to him. like if he stops paying attention for even a second suddenly dyley sound like this. and i stand by that claim.)

as for the trip itself, its not like i have the whole thing perfectly plotted or anything like that, more just... musings and ideas. oh and a playlist, of course i have a playlist. obviously they’re really good about swapping around drivers and sort of organizing their time since they only have a week, and i think it’s mainly funded by dylan’s youtube vlogger coin. asher helps and riley chips in her fair share, but dylan basically covers lucas because obviously he can’t pay but they all want him there. he makes up for this by driving the most even tho the other three insist its not a big deal.

when it comes to sharing space, the quartet of them are pretty good at it. obviously when they stop for the night they just share beds by couple, but it is interesting to think about how different these two relationships are in terms of like... you know, where they’re at. like its super easy for da to share a bed because they basically do that all the time now, but for rl breaking that boundary would be a kind of unspoken big deal and lucas would be so cautious about it. like they spend most of the summer in riley’s car (can’t hang out at her place with cory there and no one is going to lucas’s) and so theyve probably like fallen asleep together there once or twice and maybe napped ONCE at riley’s place when maya and cory were both gone in the 2.5 months they’ve been together, but it’s still... not the same. so at first lucas would be really nervous about it, but after the first couple of nights he’d relax and realize its really not that big a deal -- esp since riley seems pretty confident and comfortable with it. by the end of the week, lucas wakes up in the middle of the night and riley has cuddled up next to him and he’s like... okay MAYBE sharing a bed with someone makes points. perhaps.

one of the nights on the way down the coast, what truly breaks the ice for dylan and riley is that they break out a SMALL amount of alcohol and both get tipsy (which for them is just like. giddy and giggly and very chatty. they’re both happy drunks without a doubt). lucas and asher don’t indulge bc lucas doesn’t trust himself getting intoxicated and asher is just wary of it in general, but they figure dyley can do it as long as they’re both supervising. so dylan and riley talk A LOT that night and truly form their Kindred Spirit bond and also lucasher end up regretting letting them drink bc for like a half an hour dyley do this thing where they just pretend to share secrets with one another. like they theatrically whisper in one another’s ears and look at lucasher while they’re doing it and then start laughing and they’re literally not saying anything Important (like it’s probably like riley being like “psst... i think lucas is... hee hee... lucas is hot”) and then dylan cracking up and agreeing but bc lucasher don’t know what they’re saying they’re like ha ha very funny........... but y’all aren’t talking about us doe right. wait, what did you say. hold on --

a lot of the trip is also based around being in nature and the outdoors, since they don’t get to do much of that day-to-day in manhattan. considering one of their favorite spots to hang out as a group during senior year is at central park, they’re all definitely fresh air outdoorsy kind of people to a degree. so like, stopping at parks, going on hikes, and of course the beach itself. i made an instagram edit of one of said hikes when i was testing a template i made:

naturally, and i swear this happens at least once on a long road trip whether it is with family or friends or any combo of people, but you hit a point where you get irritable and start to get a little sick of one another. i think in this case that mainly starts between lucas and asher, because although they’re Best Friends i think lucas has a knack for finding ways of irritating him. and also lucas probably gets irritated by dylan’s high energy after too much time with no breaks, so he’s also snappy, and as they’re on the way back up to nyc people are spatting at one another or getting snippy over stupid things so riles is like. here’s an idea! how about we split up for the day when we get to philadelphia. this is an excellent idea and none of them are opposed, so when they arrive in philly, dylan and asher split off to go explore the city + historical sites.

what do riley and lucas do? well, riley takes lucas to meet her grandparents, of course.

at first lucas is like ummmmmmm no because he’s SUPER nervous about meeting her family -- the only family he’s met is cory and we know that’s... unideal, and eric, both of whom have a completely different perception of him bc of school and his behavioral record. he’s yet to meet topanga or auggie yet or anything like that -- but riley assures him that her grandparents are chill and she has no doubt she’ll like them. they’re also meeting lucas with a completely blank slate (i.e. no preconceived notions about him like those who work at aaa), so it’s not hard for lucas to make a good impression since he really is like... a good guy. not to mention no way is he snarky or deadpan in situations where he doesn’t feel comfortable or like he has the right lmao, so he’s on his BEST behavior around amy and alan.

the good thing is that alan himself kind of had a similar background and run on the wild side that lucas does (kind of like jack, altho jack was never as troubled as lucas), and so i think he would kind of... inherently Get him. like he’d strike up a conversation with him and at first lucas would be like omg why is this man speaking to me please i’m invisible pretend i’m not here... but after a bit he’d find it’s surprisingly easy to talk to alan. and they’d talk for like an hour and get on pretty well. meanwhile, amy is talking to riley and is like so... let me guess. cory does not know you’re traveling with your boyfriend???? and riley is like... perhaps. maybe don’t tell him? pretty please? and once amy convenes with alan and is like how is he and alan is all “he’s fine, we can approve,” then they agree not to rat riley out.

riley and lucas also climb up into the matthews tree house and take a look around and they comment on how strange it is that cory and eric once used to like, hang out in there and in that house and were once teenagers (lucas: be careful this is humanizing your father too much for me). and i’d think they’d sit up in the treehouse for a little bit and just talk and riley would talk about how nice it must’ve been to grow up in the suburbs like this, and she’s surprised when lucas agrees and he admits he fucking hates living in manhattan. and that kind of prompts this subtle internal thinking in both of them of like hmm well... maybe in the future when things are different and we can make our own rules maybe we’ll move out of the city and into a quieter life... they don’t say any of that out loud, but they’re both thinking it. and at the tail end of that conversation riley kisses lucas which turns into a Really Good Kiss... but then they’re interrupted by amy calling for them to come down for dinner and its kind of like lmao, they’re both a little bashful but in a casual silly way

#riley x lucas #dylan x asher #riley x dylan #rl x da #SOL #bonus content #kind of lol #is this readable? who knows. i just really Love them #thank you for asking about them!!!#there's also an insta edit buried in here gJFDLGH #Anonymous #answered #high praise tag

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