#during which time I had to explain abortion

[aveline-shepard]

ALSO I need you all to know that my aunt heard me affectionately talking about someone and later when my cousin drove her home, was like "I didn't know she was gay!" And, like, kudos to my aunt who was 100% cool with that (though surprised) and did not make a big deal about it in the moment, but I later had to inform her that my bestie and I are unfortunately not a couple because she is tragically heterosexual. I mean, with that said though, she is right and I AM gay.

[call-sign-shark]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

epilogue:

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of abortion.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: writing endings suck by the way. hope u enjoy tho :)

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by haileybieber, gigihadid, nickharris_img and 789,101 others

madisonhughes one year ago i married my best friend. i love u _quinnhughes 🤍

View all 1,398 comments

user1 i still remember the fuss we made the day she changed her username to hughes 😭

user2 user1 no bc u just had to be there 😭 everyone freaking out and people asking if her wedding had been live-streamed

user3 user1 user2 omg and people trying to cancel her for changing her last name?? i was on twitter fighting for my life

user4 user3 AND THE DAY AFTER QUINN POSTED A PICTURE OF HER WEARING HIS JERSEY DURING THEIR HONEYMOON LMFAO

_quinnhughes Pretty sure i love you more

nickharris_img my favorite couple. Miss you Mads

user6 the day i had to change my @ bc i couldn’t be quinnybear43wife anymore 💔

haileybieber it was magical 🥹

canucks One year already? 😱

jackhughes best night of my life… got drunk after 3 minutes

౨ৎ

2034, OCTOBER.

YOU HAD just turned the cell phone off when you heard Lila’s first scream.

Out of your instinct, you quickly walked towards her bedroom, knowing that she would be there with Quinn, since there was where you left both of them before you answered Jim’s call, asking about what time you were planning on going to their house, where they’d hold a Halloween welcoming party, since you and Quinn had just bought them a house in Vancouver.

Ever since your daughter, Lila, was born, three years ago, they’d been traveling to Vancouver every other week, and even though they told you several times that they didn’t mind all the flying and the hotels, you and Quinn both decided that it’d be best for them to at least have a private place to stay whenever they wanted to visit their granddaughter.

And Lila, the always calm, adorable baby, had been laughing with Quinn before you left the room, so her crying now was worrying to say the least. As you got closer to her bedroom, the crying got louder and louder, and you were pretty much sure neither Quinn nor Lila heard you entering the room.

“Tell Daddy what’s wrong, baby,” Quinn’s sitting on the floor, his hands wiping Lila’s tears, uselessly. “I’ll fix it, I promise,”

“No princess!” She yells back at him, throwing the yellow Belle dress you bought for her last week, making you frown as you lean against the door, choosing to let Quinn deal with her before you stepped in.

Bella stares at her, hiding her nose between her paws, which distracts you momentarily.

“Lila, baby. What did we say about yelling?” He asks softly, blue eyes searching for Lila’s. “There’s no need to yell. Daddy just wants to understand why you’re so upset since you wanted to be Belle so bad. What happened?”

Somehow, his question only seems to upset her even more. “No want. Belle.”

He chuckles, moving her chestnut hair out of her cherubic face.

“I can see that. And I want to know why. Do you remember how Mommy is always telling you that we need to explain why we’re upset? She’s right, baby.”

“Mhm,” she nods her head, scratching her eye with her left hand. “Mommy’s right.”

“Mommy is always right, isn’t she?” Quinn jokes, making you smile.

You decide that it’s the right time for you to step in, since Quinn already calmed Lila down and you wouldn’t get in his way of teaching her manners.

Walking until you were in the middle of the room, you smiled at them before you sat down on the carpet, beside Quinn.

“Is everything okay here?” You softly ask, giving Lila a brief kiss on her cheek, before doing the same with Quinn, making him smile right back at you.

“Lila’s upset about her costume,” Quinn explains. “She doesn’t want to be Belle.”

“No Belle!” She says loudly again, stomping her little feet. You had to use all of your strength to not coo at her cuteness.

“Okay, baby. We understand, you don't want to be Belle. Want to tell mommy and daddy why is that?”

Lila sighs loudly, her face still red from all the crying, proceeding to point at Quinn.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, baby, that’s daddy,” you chuckle. “What about daddy?”

“Wanna be d-daddy.” She stutters, hiccuping right after.

You and Quinn stare at each other, confused, before realization hits you both.

“She wants to be you for Halloween,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes immediately fill up with tears, just like yours.

It was one of the most precious moments of your life. After years of going to therapy and working on yourself, and after you and Quinn married each other, you finally understood that you could have a loving family. Something to call yours. And when you found out you were pregnant, it was terrifying, because all you could think of is that you were going to be just like your mother.

You still remember that day as if it had been yesterday, and not three years ago. It was winter, late night, and you knew Quinn wouldn’t get home from his away game until the morning after.

Bella looked at you with a stressed expression on her face, putting her paw on your thigh, as you were sitting on the toilet’s lid and staring at the plastic thing on your other thigh.

Positive, it read. And it couldn’t be, not with you.

You and Quinn had a decent amount of sex, but even though you ditched the condom a long time ago, you still took your birth control pills religiously, you hadn’t been sloppy.

And now, after two weeks of constant headaches, nauseous and sore boobs, you decided to listen to your heart and buy a couple of tests. Despite doing all of that, you didn’t expect them to turn out to be positive.

It was scary as hell. You pondered calling Emma, your therapist, but then you checked the time on your phone and it was already three a.m. Besides, you felt bad for telling her first, and not Quinn or Victoria even.

What the hell am I going to do?, you keep asking yourself. You knew that Quinn wanted to have kids, but what about those couples who fall out of love when they have kids? Or those people who start complaining about children all the time?

Or what if I turn out to be just like my mom, the hidden, dark part of you asks, and the thought sends you into a spiral. What if I turn out just like my mom?!

You rest your head between your hands, letting the first tears roll down your face, freely. For the first time ever you were happy that Quinn wasn’t around you because you don’t even know what you would tell him.

Bella continues to whimper beside you and even though you want to tell her you’re fine, you couldn’t. Because you weren’t.

“Sweets? What’s wrong?”

Quinn’s voice scares you so hard you get up from the lid, gasping as the test falls from your thigh, hitting the carpet underneath your feet with the softest thud.

“Quinn?” You ask, trying to wipe your tears as fastest as you could. “What are you doing here? You said you’d be back tomorrow.”

“We left the arena earlier but—” he steps closer, his hands finding your waist immediately. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt? Do we need to visit the hospital? What’s going on?”

His soothing voice only made you cry more, because you could totally picture him talking like this with a little baby, your baby. Quinn would be the most perfect father ever, and you had always known it.

He puts your head in the space between his neck and shoulder, rocking you gently as he often did whenever you had a meltdown— rare moments that happen from time to time, always with him by your side to take care of you.

He didn’t force you to speak, he never did. He respected your time, and even when sometimes you only wanted to talk about the things upsetting you days later, he’d respect your wishes. And you love him so much for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words coming out muffled since your mouth was hidden.

Quinn freezes for a second, pulling you just the slightest bit away, his blue eyes searching for something inside of yours. Whatever he found, it only made him frown.

“I think I misheard what you said. Can you repeat, baby?”

“I’m pregnant,” You finally say, feeling the tears that had stopped for a minute coming back with more strength. “I’m sorry.”

His frown deepens. “What are you sorry for, baby? Don’t say that.”

“I swear I took all of my pills,” you choke on your tears, shaking your head. “I did everything right but—”

“Maddie, look at me,” Quinn grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “This isn’t your fault, sweets, there’s no such thing as saying sorry because you’re pregnant. The moment we decided to have sex without a condom we knew this could happen. It’s fine, baby, we will work it out. It’s my responsibility too.”

“I know you don’t want this now,” you whisper. “I know the timing is bad. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

Quinn kisses your cheek before intertwining his hand with yours and getting you both out of the bathroom, with Bella following behind you. He took you to the kitchen, sitting you on one of the stools and filling up the baby blue kettle that sat on the counter with water. While he waited, he turned around and walked back at you, kissing your head.

“In what world do you live in, baby?” He chuckles. “Of course I want a baby with you, Maddie. You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing on your face.

“I’m just— you’re in the middle of the season. I have work too. And—what are we going to do, if we decide to k-keep it?”

“I think it’s too soon for you to decide anything, mhm? I’m not an expert, but I know we have some time before deciding what you want to do. Either way, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He smiles at you again, booping your nose, like he often did.

The kettle beeps, and Quinn runs straight to it, turning it off and pouring the water in your favorite mug, where he had already put a chamomile tea bag inside of it.

He also poured a little bit of cold water, just to get the tea’s temperature perfect for you to drink.

“No sugar for you, because you’re already sweet enough.”

You laugh between your tears. “Will you someday stop talking about the fact that I don’t like to drink tea with sugar?”

“I don’t think so, baby, but I’ll try.” He winks, the mood lighter.

You drank your tea with Quinn by your side, talking about his game and how things went. He knew you liked when he talked about his work, so the fact that he started doing it without you asking meant a lot to you.

As he talked, you tried to organize your thoughts inside your head. Which hadn’t been easy.

“I don’t wanna be like her.” You whisper, and Quinn smiles sadly at you, shaking his head.

You haven’t spoken with your family in years. You’d yearly text them on their birthdays, but you’d always block them right after, not wanting them to reach you. It was just still hard for you to understand how your own family didn’t want anything to do with you, so you kept doing that, just for your peace of mind.

It wasn’t like you missed having them in your life, because you reached a point where all the memories you had of them were bad. And when you married Quinn, and added his last name to yours? It was like your mom finally reached her breaking point and unleashed all of her disgust for you in one go, during a very harsh phone call, where Quinn had to intervene and turn it off. “It will be the last time you’ll speak to my wife like this, do you hear me? I don’t care who you are or what you do. This is the last time, Jessica.”

And it had been the last time indeed.

“You won’t ever be like her, baby.”

“You don’t know that,” you frown. “I’ve heard people talking before, y’know? I remember how they’d say my mom was different before I was born. And sometimes Peter would talk about it too. She might’ve not loved my dad, but she was happy before me. Will I be the same if we keep the baby?”

Quinn holds your hand and caresses it with his thumb. “You already know the answer to that, Maddie. You’re nothing like her, and you never will be,” he kisses your lips. “Besides, why are you so worried about being a mom? Aren’t you one already?”

You laugh, looking at Bella slaughter her tennis ball on the couch.

“I guess you’re right.”

Lila frowns at Quinn’s tears, looking at you for help, because she had never seen her Daddy cry before.

“Why daddy cry?” she asks, before taking little steps and stopping in front of him, little hands wiping his face. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

“These are tears of joy, babygirl,” he laughs, hugging her tiny body, their beautiful curls touching each other. “Of course you can be daddy, baby. In fact, we’ll both be daddy.”

Lila’s giggle fills up the entire room, and she runs around, happily.

“Be careful, love,” you tell her, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulders, watching as Lila sits on top of Bella, making her growl loudly. “We have to get going, though, baby. Grandpa is waiting for you with Grandma.”

“U-uncle Luke?” she asks, making you laugh and Quinn sigh.

“What’s up with that unhealthy obsession of hers with Luke?”

“It’s probably the curls,” you joke, teasing him. “And the smile.”

“I have curls and a beautiful smile too, Madison, I’m not following.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and you giggled at his jealous face.

“We have to get ready, come on,” you tell him, before getting up and searching for Lila’s jersey with Quinn’s name and number on it, while Quinn looked for his.

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume, Maddie? Lila, your mommy’s boring.” Jack rolls his eyes at you, his arms reaching out for Lila as soon as he opens the door. “And look at you, huh? Are you supposed to be Quinn?”

“Mommy’s not— boring. And I wanna be daddy.” Lila wraps her hand around Jack’s neck, holding him close. “Uncle Luke?”

“I’m here, princess,” Luke says, standing behind Jack and smiling at Lila, who makes grabby hands and jumps to his arms right away, making both Quinn and Jack pout. You laughed behind your hands.

Thankfully, Lila managed to distract everyone from the fact that you were the only person not wearing a costume. For your surprise to work, it wouldn’t make sense for you to wear anything. Earlier, you had told Quinn that you hadn’t had time to buy anything, which had been a straight up lie. But he didn’t question you anyway, just told you that next time you could ask him to buy it for you.

Jim and Ellen’s house was packed with people, some of the family’s friends and cousins, all dressed up and cheerful. You spent the entire evening making sure that everything was perfect for your surprise, while Quinn took care of Lila— or tried to take care of her, since your little girl hadn’t left her uncle’s arms yet.

“Okay, so, everyone,” you start, watching as Quinn’s family sits on the gigantic table in the backyard, with Lila sitting on Luke’s lap and Quinn beside Ellen and one of his cousins. “Last thing we’re doing before dinner is the pumpkin carving contest. The prettiest one will win.”

“Who will be the judge?” Jack asks.

“Me.” You grin at him, hearing his complaints.

Thankfully, everyone was very competitive, and seemed to be enjoying the little game. You eyed Quinn surreptitiously, trying your hardest not to catch his attention before he found your surprise, which happened ten minutes later, after he opened the pumpkin in front of him, suddenly interrupting his talk with his cousin.

You watched as he read the little card you left for him inside the orange fruit, his blue eyes immediately finding yours.

“Why is it so hot in here?” you say to no one, removing your hoodie and placing it on the chair beside where you were standing, stretching your shirt that read Growing Our Little Pumpkin, the cheesy line written with a funny calligraphy.

“Madison.”

Somehow, Quinn’s serious tone reached everyone’s ears, and now all of them, minus Lila who was very entertained with writing on Luke’s pumpkin, were staring at you and, well, your shirt.

You found out that you were expecting again two weeks ago, deciding not to tell Quinn immediately, this time not out of fear but out of want for doing something special, and since Ellen had already arranged this costume party, you thought this would be the perfect moment.

“Oh my God!” Ellen shouts beside Quinn, her smile brighter than the moon decorating the sky. “Oh my God!”

Quinn gets up so fast you barely have time to breathe before his arms are wrapped around your body, squeezing you tightly.

“Baby, are you serious? Is this a joke?” he asks, voice quivering a little.

“No,” you laugh. “I’m pregnant, love.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he glues his lips to yours, and even though you can hear his family’s cheers for you and Lila laughing somewhere, nothing else matters, except for how Quinn holds you.

And if you stop to think for a moment, nothing has ever mattered more than your love for him in your life. You weren’t exactly sure if that was healthy or not, but after caring about the wrong people for so long, you were happy to finally have found something that was yours to keep. Quinn, Lila, the baby growing inside you, his parents and brothers— they were part of you now, and would always be.

Loving Quinn was the best decision of your entire life.

And now you were the person who’d get to keep him for life.

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madisonhughes

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madisonhughes past few days :)

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user1 HELLO??? SHE’S PREGNANT AGAIN!????

maddiehughes_updates SHE’S PREGNANT

lhughes_06 missing lila :,(

adrianalima Omg congrats!!!! 🥹

canucks Baby Hughes no 2 💙

vic_alonso can we name the baby victoria if it’s a girl and victorio if it’s a boy

madisonhughes vic_alonso no.

jackhughes madisonhughes vic_alonso don’t be silly. Jack if it’s a boy, Jackie if it’s a girl.

_quinnhughes jackhughes 🤦

nickharris_img i love u 😗😗

user2 Lila will be a big sister 😭😭😭

user3 I will kms right now so I can reincarnate as your kid

| THROUGH THE YEARS |

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 4. Other Parts

Word count: 4,5k words

Short summary: Reader spends her morning getting whiplash. Sabo is a touched starved mess.

A healthy amount of fluff and spiraling dirty thoughts in this part. Things get a little heated at one point, but nothing graphic yet. (Love building up the tension)

MDNI 18+

___

This must be the most wonderful dream.

Y/N was laying with her head against a chest, a strong arm gently wrapped around her back. She didn’t dare to open her eyes, afraid the wonderful dream would end if she did it. A comforting warmth embraced her whole being, as she carefully traced small loops on the soft skin.

She couldn’t find the right words to describe what the wonderful dream made her feel. Secure, or maybe cared for? Whatever the name of the feeling was, it made her whole body tingle, filled to the brim with warmth.

For some reason, Y/N imagined that her head was resting on the handsome revolutionary. The man that had comforted her last night when she slipped up. Had that really happened, or had that also been part of her wonderful dream? Whatever happened, the weird punch-drink was surely to blame for her mistake.

Her hand moved upward, her fingers tracing a path from the neck to a strong jawline. Was this what it would feel like to touch him, even if it wasn’t a dream? Her thumb touched something soft, lips maybe? She could feel how the mouth parted, a hot puff of air grazing over the upper part of her hand.

Suddenly she could feel something bite down on her thumb. Which was strange, since if this was a dream, she shouldn’t be able to feel any pain. Y/N reluctantly began to open her eyes.

And to her surprise, she saw Sabo with a smug grin across his lips. Biting down on her thumb.

Oh Dear God… this is not a dream. Abort, abort abort!!

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” Sabo said, making a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

Y/N jumped back, moving away from the handsome devil. Dear God, had she really just done that? She could feel her heartbeat quickly picking up pace, a hot feeling spreading through her body.

She looked around in an attempt to get some grasp on her current situation. She was in Sabo’s room, now sitting on the end of his bed. Far away from him, but not far enough. Dear God, don’t tell her he was completely naked under that blanket.

At least Y/N saw that she was wearing a large oversized button-down shirt and no pants. The shirt smelled like him and felt soft against her skin. She was wearing underwear, which was good. And the shirt looked kinda cute too… AND THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO THINK ABOUT STUFF LIKE THAT!

Had she changed clothes herself last night, or had he undressed her? Dear God, had he seen her naked?! She couldn’t for the life of her remember what had happened after they had left that lake. Why was she in his bedroom? Had they done something during the night?

Y/N felt like she was starting to get dizzy from all the questions in her head, and from the fact that she had shamelessly let her hands travel all over him just moments ago. Her slow descent into madness was interrupted by Sabo’s laugh filling the room.

“You really are too fucking cute when you’re flustered” Sabo wiped a tear from his eye.

“I- How?- What…” Y/N tried to ask him what had happened, but all she managed to say was incoherent words put together in a jumbled mess. She took a deep breath and tried again. “My clothes?”

“Oh, you probably don’t remember anything after you fell asleep last night, right?” Sabo asked, and Y/N nodded in response.

“First off, I did not change your clothes. You did that on your own, even though you were half asleep when you did it. And I had my back turned the entire time. So, don’t worry. I wouldn’t do something like that unless you wanted me to.” He explained as he gave her a kind smile.

Y/N let out a sigh in relief. That was good to know. At least now she didn’t have to worry about the possibility that she had also stripped down in front of him. This situation was already bad enough.

The feeling of shame slowly faded away when she heard another small laugh escape Sabo’s lips. You gotta be kidding? She was practically dying from embarrassment, and he was amused?

“Why am I in your room?” Y/N asked, seeing a satisfied smirk spread over Sabo’s face right after.

“Well, you were clinging onto me like your life depended on it and refused to sleep in your own bed. Something about my bed having a nicer scent?” Y/N could feel the blush spread over her cheeks. “To be completely honest, I was kinda surprised when you blatantly asked me to sleep together. Didn’t mind it though, you were acting fucking adorable. Practically begging me to hold you and-”

“CAN YOU PLEASE STOP!” She exclaimed, hiding her face in her hands.

She could hear a small chuckle escape Sabo’s mouth. A blanket was draped over the lower half of his body, bare torso on full display. He somehow seemed to be totally relaxed with this situation, sitting with his legs stretched out and hands behind his head.

Like he wasn’t bothered, flustered or even embarrassed about the fact that Y/N practically had her thumb in his mouth less than five minutes ago.

“Sorry, I may have overexaggerated a little, but you’re too fun to tease. So please, don’t be mad at me.” Sabo said, giving her that kind, dangerous smile. “Truth is, you were pretty upset last night. And it was kinda my fault for pushing you too far, so I didn’t want you to be alone if it got worse during the night. I know what it’s like, or at least I understand why you were sad.”

Y/N felt her heart flutter.

This was not fair. How was she supposed to keep her distance from him, when he kept saying and doing stuff like that.

Sabo was a revolutionary, a man that was supposed to despise the Noble class and anyone from it. She was 90% sure he had figured out her background already, and that he had known the moment they met.

So why did he not call her bluff out? Why did he treat her with such kindness at times? Why did he want to comfort her when she was sad? None of it made any sense.

And all of it made her confused. Her emotions felt like a jumbled mess, and he kept stirring them around with every teasing remark and caring word. Y/N didn’t know what to expect from him any longer.

But somewhere, buried deep inside her, she hoped that his words were true. That he didn’t just do this to play with her for his own amusement. That the stupid feelings she had started to develop wasn’t going to make her feel like a fool later on.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention to make you upset, so please don’t cry.” Sabo said as he gave her a worried look, suddenly moving closer so he was sitting face to face with her.

“Cry?” Y/N asked, as she brought her hand up to touch her cheek. It felt wet. “Oh… I didn’t notice. Sorry, don’t let it bother you. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying stuff like that.” Sabo sighed, before grabbing hold of her hands and giving her a serious look. “It’s normal to be sad at times, you don’t have to hide it. I don’t mind and I won’t ever be bothered by it either. It’s my fault you’re upset, and I apologize for making you feel this way. So please, stop saying you’re fine, when you’re not.”

Oh no, he completely misunderstood her tears…

Y/N felt her heart picking up in pace. She looked at her hands engulfed by Sabo’s, his hands felt warm. The same comforting warmth she had felt in her wonderful not-a-dream this morning.

She didn’t want him to think he’d done anything wrong, when he hadn’t. He had only wanted to comfort her when she was sad last night.

And Y/N felt grateful for that. It wasn’t anything she had experienced before. Sabo was the first that had ever wanted to do something like that for her.

“But, I am fine… I think I’m just happy you wanted to do that for me.” She admitted, rather sheepishly.

A relieved smile spread over Sabo’s lips, as he let go of her hands and fell back on the bed.

“Thank fucking God! I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself if I made a cute girl cry twice. Well, at least if she cried for the wrong reason.” He chuckled, fully back to his normal, unserious self within seconds.

“The wrong reason? You make it sound like there’s a right reason to cry.” Y/N asked, moving closer so she could see Sabo’s face.

“Oh, there’s definitely a right reason… Curious?” He asked with a wide grin.

“Well, maybe a little? I can’t think of anything that would make me-”

Y/N pondering was cut off by a hand pulling her arm. And a moment later, she laid on her back, pinned under Sabo and confused beyond belief.

She could feel a warm flush spread through her, as she saw the bare, toned body over her. At least he had underwear on, which was good. She would probably have passed out if he had been completely naked.

Sabo wasted no time pinning her arms over her head with one hand, as he gently placed his other hand on her waist, giving her no chance to escape. The concerned eyes she had seen just moments ago were now filled with a mischievous look.

Whiplash. That was the only word to describe this feeling.

“Tell me your name, and I promise I’ll have you crying for the right reason within an hour.” Sabo whispered into her ear, hot breath tickling her neck.

This position, this situation, everything about this! It was far too intimate and out of nowhere. Y/N wasn’t dumb, she knew what Sabo meant by that.

It wasn’t like she disliked it, in fact she even felt a little excited. His thumb made small circles on her stomach through the fabric of her shirt. His touch felt warm and comforting, yet at the same time, expectant and demanding.

But everything was happening way too fast. How could he be so comfortable doing this when they hadn’t even kissed? Unless…

She took a deep breath, sparking a curious look in Sabo’s eyes, as she mustered up the courage to ask the embarrassing question that desperately needed an answer.

“Last night, did we, you know… I mean, I would have liked it if it was with you- I just want to know before-” The words rambled out of her mouth, a bright red blush spread over her face.

It looked like Sabo froze for a second, before he leaned back so he was sitting on his knees over her hips. He moved the hand holding her wrist, placing it over his mouth.

“She’s even admitting to wanting it now…” He said under his breath, barely loud enough for X to hear it.

“S-Sabo?” She stuttered.

She could see a soft pink tint on Sabo’s cheeks as his eyes roamed over her body. A small gasp escaped her lips when the grip on her waist tightened.

“God, you look fucking lovely when you say my name…” He sighed as his hands started to travel over her body. Not touching anywhere inappropriate, but close enough. The now familiar knot in her stomach was back, the knot she got anytime he touched her.

“Do you know how hard it was to hold back when you kept touching me like that this morning? You looked so goddamn cute, it took everything in me to not rip that shirt off you and kiss every inch of your body. I wanted to touch you so fucking bad, see you twitching under me. Hear you moan my name over and over until that was the only sound your pretty mouth could make.” His voice sounded like honey, somehow making the dirty words sound gentle.

“And now you’re telling me you want to? Do you even know how frustrated that makes me, when all I want to do is bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you oblivious.” Sabo’s lewd explanation was beginning to make her head spin.

Y/N hadn’t noticed when it happened, but Sabo was now leaning over her, one knee pressed in between her thighs. One of his hand was traveling up and down her leg, bending it and squeezing her bare skin. Every greedy touch against her body, left a hot feeling in its wake.

An involuntary moan escaped her mouth as she felt a palm against her throat.

“But noo, I can’t do that. Because I don’t even know what your goddamn name is. And just the thought of not knowing is driving me fucking insane and-”

Sabo stopped, looking like he just caught up with what he had been saying and doing for the past few minutes.

Y/N’s body felt hot and tingly, and it felt like the knot in her stomach was about to snap. Heavy breaths escaped her parted mouth as she looked up on the handsome man towering over. One of his hands still pressed against her throat, the other placed under her thigh.

Did he really want to do all that to her? She didn’t even know what half the things he said meant. Twitching? Oblivious? What did he even mean with those words?

Sabo still looked a little lost in thought, but seemed to snap out of it when she moved his hand away from her throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Just give me a moment.” He said with a closed eyed smile, before he got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Y/N sat up on the bed, utterly confused as she heard the tap on the bathroom sink turn on. A moment later, a muffled scream came from behind the door. It sounded like someone screaming under water.

Then there was silence for a minute before Sabo walked back into the bedroom, giving her the same closed-eyed smile, but now with water dripping from his hair.

Whiplash, again.

“S-Sabo?” Y/N stuttered, not sure how to react. “W-why are you wet?”

“Don’t worry about it. I just needed to cool down a bit.” Sabo said with a kind smile, as he pulled a pair of trousers over his legs.

“You were- And then- But now- I’m so confused…” She sighed, rubbing the area between her eyes as she tried wrapping her head around what just happened.

“I know, and I apologize for my behavior.” He answered in a calm voice as he put on a blue, button up shirt, before sitting down on the bed. “You’re just so fucking cute sometimes, it’s a little hard to hold back. But don’t worry, nothing happened last night. And nothing will happen, at least until I know who you are. After that… Well, I can’t make any promises. I would never do something unless you want to, that goes without saying. But I like you way too much to not at least try.”

Sabo’s blatant confession made her heart skip a beat.

How could he say those things in such a calm manner? Did he really like her? And was it the same type of ‘like’ as she was starting to feel for him?

What was she even supposed to say after hearing that? It felt like he was being honest with her right now, so maybe it would only be fair if she was honest too.

“It’s okay, I mean, about what you did earlier. I- I kind of liked it and-” Y/N’s flustered mess of words was interrupted by a hand over her mouth. She looked at Sabo and saw his eye twitch.

“Please, stop talking. You’re literally torturing me right now.” He said with a strained smile and waited for Y/N to nod in response before moving his hand away.

“Look, I really, really, want to know who you are. But I don’t want to push you about it and make you upset again. So you can tell me on your own, if you want. Which you won’t, because you’re stubborn. But don’t worry, I have other ways of finding that information.” Sabo said, giving her a reassuring look.

It felt good hearing him say that. Y/N still didn’t want anyone to find out who she was, or were before running away. She was ready to leave that life behind her and start over.

But she could tell Sabo wouldn’t give up either, even if he stopped pestering her about it. Maybe she could make him drop it if she pressured him a little.

“Why are you so obsessed with finding out who I am to begin with?” She asked, thinking this was a good place to start.

“You mean beside the fact that I want to know your name before I turn you into a cute, moaning mess?” He answered, grinning as something flickered in his eyes.

Whiplash…

Y/N nodded with a forced smile.

“Well besides that, it’s kinda my job as the Chief of Staff to know stuff.” Sabo said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Chief of Staff? For this base? Isn’t that a lot of responsibility? And in that case, shouldn’t it be Koala’s job?” She asked, hearing a small chuckle from Sabo right after.

“No, not just this base. For the entire Revolutionary Army, and yes it’s a lot of responsibility. Koala is my partner, she can really be a godsend at times. The other’s say she keeps me in check, and they're kinda right… But don’t get me wrong, I’m good at what I do.” He explained.

“What do you mean ‘the entire Revolutionary Army’?” Y/N said, even more confused than before.

“Hmm, how can I explain this?” Sabo pondered for a moment, before he went and got a notepad from the desk, drawing something on a plank page. “It’s a big organization, so I’ll try keeping it simple. These five people are the Army commanders, they are responsible for overseeing the Army in one different area of the world each. They also have partners like I have Koala.”

He pointed to five blobs on the page that she guessed were supposed to resemble people.

Sabo was bad at drawing. That was kinda cute.

“I don’t really like using the word ‘above’ when talking about myself, but for this explanation I think it’s the easiest word to describe it. So, above the Army commanders is me. And above me is Dragon. Even you must know who he is, right?” He pointed with a pen, moving it up on the paper as he went along.

“Yes, I know who he is… But I’m still not following.” Y/N sighed.

“Dragon holds the highest authority in the Army. The one with highest authority after Dragon…” Sabo stated, then a bright smile spread over his face as he pointed to himself. “Me!”

“Y-you?” She stuttered, feeling a shiver run down her back.

“Yes, I’m the Second in Command within the Revolutionary Army. Pretty impressive, right?” He had a proud look in his eyes. “Oh, you can’t tell anyone though. My identity is kind of a secret to outsiders.”

Danger.

Alarm bells started ringing in Y/N’s head. The handsome, blond man that smiled at her so brightly was not just a regular revolutionary. He wasn’t someone who followed orders and just happened to treat her with kindness.

He posed a real threat to her. Sabo was the Second in Command over the organization that took pleasure in torturing Nobles. There was no way someone with such a high position would let her be, if he found out who she was.

A cold sweat made her shirt cling to her back. Sabo was giving her a confused look.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not sick, right?” He said as he put his hand against her forehead, making X flinch.

This man was dangerous. He was probably manipulating her into a false sense of security, playing on her emotions. And after he was satisfied, he would most definitely drag her to the guillotine.

Not a thing Sabo had said was true. The Revolutionary Army hated Nobles, despised them in fact. That was the undeniable truth, even if it made Y/N’s heart break.

She had been such a fool, believing that he was different from what she had been told about the Revolutionaries. Believing that he really liked her, that he cared for her.

She needed to get away from this base, from him. She just needed a little time to plan her escape, and until then, she had to avoid him at all cost.

Y/N stood up from the bed and turned towards the door, hair hanging over her face. She knew escaping was the logical thing to do if she wanted to leave with her life intact. She knew that was the only way.

So, why did it have to hurt so much?

“I’m gonna go now.” Y/N said, quickly running out the door.

She didn’t want to give Sabo the chance of stopping her. If he did that, she might not be able to stop the tears that desperately wanted to fall from her eyes.

None of this was fair.

___

“Hey, wait… And she’s already gone.” Sabo sighed as he fell back on his bed.

What the fuck happened?

One moment they were having a normal conversation, and in the next one Jane Doe was running out of the room. He thought back on their conversation, trying to figure out what he could have done to make her do that.

Was it because he had said he liked her? He couldn’t think of anything else that would make her run away. She was embarrassed and probably felt a bit shy, there was no other explanation.

“She’s so fucking cute.” He whispered to himself as the memories from the night started to come back in his mind.

Sabo liked the mystery girl. He liked the sound of her voice. He liked how easily flustered she would get. He liked the feeling of her cuddling against his chest. He liked how stubborn she was. He liked the warm feeling he got in his chest when he was around her.

And he fucking loved her smile. Anytime she smiled it felt like the world surrounding him became ten times brighter.

So yeah, Sabo definitely liked her. There was no use denying that anymore.

Not after he spent the entire night planning how to keep her with him for as long as possible. He wouldn’t describe himself as a scheming person, but it was always good to have a plan. And a backup in case the first plan didn’t work out.

He felt a desperate need to have her near him, to keep her safe. Sabo knew how dangerous the world could be, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her. She had already been through enough, growing up around people who treated her like that.

Bringing him to the other thoughts that had occupied his mind during the night. How was he going to make sure those disgusting bugs never came looking for her again? Sabo had thought about it a lot, and still wasn’t sure what the best way to go about it was.

A revolution was a delicate thing. And a provocation (like crushing some noble’s skull, for example) at the wrong time, could cause their enemies to seek revenge. That would most likely put a lot of civilians in the crossfire, and Sabo wasn’t willing to let innocent people get hurt for his personal gain.

The problem would solve itself after the revolution was over anyway. When they won, the noble class system in this country would be abolished, the ruling class would most likely be put on trial and sentenced to at least some years in prison. Or maybe they would be exiled from this Island. Whatever happened was up to the people to decide. And the outcome would serve as a means to protect the lovely angel he had held during the night from being found.

All Sabo needed to know was her name, and everything would be fine.

Maybe it was better if he just patiently waited until the girl told him. She would tell him at some point, if they kept getting to know each other.

He didn’t want to keep anything hidden from her, he would tell her anything she wanted to know. It didn’t matter if it was a question about his job, or why he pinned her to the bed with a desperate need to touch her.

If she wanted to know why he did that, and the reason was because he liked her so much he was slowly going insane, he would tell her. It was just dumb to hide it, when she had such a cute reaction when hearing it, running away to hide her adorable, flustered face.

He was sure that was the reason she left in a hurry.

Sabo just needed to be a little bit patient.

Only problem was that it was becoming increasingly hard to hold back around her. When in reality, all he wanted to do was mark every inch of her body, leaving proof of how much he craved to have her near.

Earlier, when Sabo pinned her under him, he had really planned to only tease the poor girl a little. But then that cute blush spread over her face and those sweet words left her mouth.

‘I mean, I would have liked it if it was with you-’

He nearly lost his fucking mind when she said that. Before he even knew what he was doing, lewd, airy moans kept slipping past her lips as his hands roamed over her body. She looked fucking angelic in that moment, and it took everything within him to stop himself.

And then, that angel told him that she had liked it. He could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a second.

But he held back. Sabo had promised himself he wouldn’t sleep with her until he knew her name.

And how he desperately craved to know that name…

“Fuck… Maybe waiting will be too hard.” He sighed, as he touched the place on his lips her thumb had pressed against this morning.

It wasn't a delusion, that girl liked him too.

And it wouldn’t be fair to keep her waiting too long, right?

___

[syxoki]

my mouthwashing characters headcanons :3

Daisuke ><

Japanese from his mom and filipino + mexican from his dad

Grew up in japan until he was three, before moving to hawaii. Speaks japanese, english and a tiny tiny bit of spanish.

If im not wrong, hes rather rich, so he never really had money problems before.

Only child, even if he sometimes wished he wanst.

HE HAS A TONGUE PIERCING.

He often have tension with his mom, since shes rather strict, and often wants him to follow the path she trace for him.

Is a mitski fan and have gone to two of her concerts

Still secretly have plushies from when he was little

Was kinda a smart kid at school

Has a biggg collection of yaoi and yuri (that he hide from his mom)

HES SO GYARUO CODED

Tried playing re2 remake, stopped when mr x started going at him bc it was stressing him out

Definitely watched alien stage and cried his eyes out

Smells like soft citrus and a tiny bit of weed

says random brainrot quotes during the day (hes just like me fr)

Pansexual, fight me

Anya <3

Slavic/russian (she also give off french vibes but idk) but lived in london before going to work on the ship.

Lesbian, but before moving out of her parents house she had to hide it from them bc they were really conservative and religious, even if she discovered she was gay at like 12

Loves those old movies from the 70s or with a same vibe like girl, interrupted or movies with shelley duvall.

She lovesss dazey and the scouts

Did ballet when she was little

Knows how to play piano and violin

Have a black cat name midi 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Likes horror in general but get scared

Has insomnia

She have *hematophobia (just like me fr🗣️🗣️)

(*fear of blood,wounds or very gore things)

Smells like rubbing alcohol and lavender.

Curly (big tits)

British and german

He gives off very very heterocurious vibes.

Gymbro i fear.

Smells like vanilla.

Freaking huge, like, everywhere.

Knows jimmy since their last year of highschool. Gone to the same college as him and all.

Is such an enabler of rape and all that shit OH MY FREAKING GOD. I think that even if he respect women, he still have those Misogynistic stereotypes in his brain. People need to get that hes not the good guy in mouthwashing. (i still love him tho)

like jazz

Have a phobia of snakes..

Has a dad bod ngghhh..

Has kind of a big family (2 sisters and 3 brothers.)

Is such a people pleaser omfg.

Jimbalaya...

American, and a lil bit of turkish origins (from his dad)

(Tw for this one : sa, incest,pedophilia, child abuse) I hc that younger his dad sa'ed him. His life was a terrible hell before having the legal age (and even after) to get out of his family. He got abused in so many ways bruh. (doesnt make any of his actions anymore valid ofc)

Also got several girls pregnant before anya, he guess most of them aborted, but he never bothered or cared to check if he got a kid or not..

Had a BIG nirvana phase in his teenage years. Also hate those people who wears those preppy nirvana shirts.

Smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne

doesnt really gaf about his hygiene most of the time

Attempted several times, curly was the one stopping him most of the time.

Type of guy to say "OF detected, opinion rejected" on a random girl page then get an Subscription to the said girl OF 10min later..

Was half joking about the cartoon horses thing..☹️

fucking hate kids

Has a little sister tho, which is, surprisingly, surely one of the only thing he genuinely care about, always was worried for her when he left the family home and has to leave her alone with their parents.

Is kinda homophobic asf but fetishize lesbians (my nightmare).

Has SEVERE religious traumas and mommy issues.

Swansea (Hold on Swansea, im 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼)

American and australian

Have 3 kids, two daughters and one son, also love his wife so freaking much

Play candy crush and those shitty random mobile games

Smells like a hint of metal and axe deodorant

Dog person

Is such an old man, daisuke always have to explain to him what to do when it comes to things like smartphones,internet,pcs 😭

Was in the football team of his highschool younger

Is so loud in the bathroom at like 6am for no freaking reasons omfg, average dad experiences

Use "👍🏻" for Everything

thats all i have for him im sorry 😔

[gugapuppy]

Abortion - Part 9 Bad End (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 (Bad End) || Part 10 (Hopeful End)

═══════════════════════════

Note that this chapter is the bad ending, meaning it's just hurt no comfort, and also features the death of a main character.

Read the notes after you've finished reading, which will explain what I was thinking when I wrote this chapter.

CW: Hurt no confort, Main character death

═══════════════════════════

Despair is a rope in the heart, because just when you think everything is going to be all right, you hang yourself.

Ghost calls Soap's mobile every day for two months in the hope that the man will answer, but of course it doesn't work. He gives up when Price tells him that Soap has changed his number.

He refused to give Ghost his number.

The lieutenant's room reeked of tiredness, melancholy and worst of all, cold. Without the warmth of anything nearby.

He was an idiot, he repeated every waking minute, how he managed to lose a person who was the light in all the stormy days.

Price would sometimes find him sitting on the stairs at dawn, the same stairs where he and Johnny smoked and talked when no-one was awake. Ghost would stare into nothingness every time, trapped in past memories, Price would always take him back to his room and sleep sitting in his chair to watch over him during the night.

Ghost knew the captain was tired, the black lines under his eyes showed it. But Ghost couldn't bring himself to care, ignorant of other people's pain, only caring about his own.

Maybe that's why Johnny left him. Simon was selfish.

Gaz and Price still whispered behind his back every time they had a mission or a meeting, even four months later. About what they should do with Ghost. 

Ghost was empty, he couldn't care, not even when a shot was fired into his chest, or when everyone looked at him and gossiped behind his back, or when he hugged the ultrasound to try to feel close to something. Not even the roars to discipline the cadents existed any more.

Price forced him to go into therapy, to try to talk to someone so that he could let out whatever he was feeling.

But of course that didn't work either, for four weeks, three times each, he would go into the room and sit down, the counsellor would ask him various questions, every possible topic.

But Ghost wouldn't answer, nor would he blink for minutes at a time. He didn't return to the office after a month.

Price couldn't send him on holiday for fear that the man would fuck up, and removing him from the field wouldn't do any good, he needed to stay close to Ghost for his own safety, for his own mind and for Simon.

——💀——

The first time he showed any emotion was when Farah came to see him through a request from Price, perhaps the alpha could do something that a poor beta couldn't.

Farah sat with Ghost in the man's room, Price waited in the corridor listening to everything.

"Hey Ghost, how are you?" she asked softly, kneeling down in front of Ghost who was sitting on the bed staring at nothing on the wall.

She waited for an answer, but nothing came. "We're all here for you, Ghost." He looked her in the eye, hope in his eyes. "What do you need?"

Johnny. He needed his Johnny. To smell him, to share a nest with him, to have a family. But he couldn't have that, he wasn't a good alpha, a good person. He didn't answer, he had nothing to answer for.

"Look," she gently took Ghost's hand, he hadn't cut his nails in months he noted.

"We all want you well-" Farah tries to scent him by putting her wrist against his, but Ghost quickly gets up and pushes her away.

Farah falls to the floor grunting in pain, Ghost must have let out the loudest roar of his life, because Price quickly opens the door and puts himself between the two of them, his hands on the lieutenant's chest as he tries to calm him down.

But Ghost only has one reaction going through his head and that is to shout. "DON'T TOUCH ME! ONLY JOHNNY CAN DO THAT!"

"SIMON!" Price shouts at him, but the lieutenant continues shouting at the other alpha on the floor. A horrible smell of anger spreads through the room, making Farah hold her nose.

"ONLY HE CAN SCENT ME! GET OUT OF HERE KARIM!"

No one could touch him that intimately, only one person could. 

Farah tries to open her mouth to say something, but stops when Price looks at her with concern. Farah slowly leaves the room, closing the door.

Price calms Ghost down after several minutes, they both sit on the bed, Ghost bites his lip, not wanting to swear at the captain, the only one who was there for him every day. He didn't want to be left alone by him.

After that day, Ghost began to express more of his stored-up anger, the years of silent resentment towards his father, mother and brother, his life that made him lose everything that was most important to him!

Why did he have to suffer?! Why did he have to be like this?! Why could everyone have nice things while he could have nothing?! Why couldn't he be normal? Why didn't he deserve love and care...?

Training mornings were torture for the soldiers, who were cursed at and drained of energy, subjected to humanly gruelling workouts. The bravest who tried to challenge Ghost, young and reckless alphas, ended up in the medical ward within two minutes.

Not even Price's sermons or threats worked, and of course they weren't going to. What else did Ghost have to lose? No family, no partner and no purpose.

On missions, instead of quietly eliminating his enemies, Ghost performed a torture scene with each one, disembowelling them in a cautious and brutal manner, a rage that went beyond contempt for them.

——💀——

A year since the man was separated from his omega, Johnny's voice was fading, nights were spent trying to imagine a face that was disappearing, the clothes with his scent had already been worn away by time.

It was the worst thing, he didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember.

He begged the long-forgotten gods to make him remember just one thing about Johnny.

But of course nothing happened.

The anger, the aggression, had passed, leaving only a soldier with the objectives of his job.

Price had already given up trying to help Ghost find psychological help, he didn't know what the lieutenant was feeling, carrying, but he knew it would destroy him in the future.

He stopped calling him Simon over time, realising that there was only one hurt person in front of him who didn't care anymore.

When Ghost noticed, he stayed up all night. Could it be that if he had opened up to the therapist, Price would still see him as someone worth befriending?

Maybe if Ghost hadn't fucked things up with Johnny, they'd still be together, Price and Gaz would still be his friends.

Maybe if he hadn't fucked up he and Johnny would have a beautiful family while they slept in a big nest.

And maybe if some god existed, Ghost could sleep that night thinking about the family he'd have, while hugging the ultrasound photo again.

——💀——

In two years, Ghost became a spectre in the corridors, locked in his office and his room, rarely in daylight training recruits. 

Price sent him on solo missions, he always had the information in hand as Laswell didn't want to be in the lieutenant's presence. Ghost always filled them in completely.

One day Price sent him for a fortnight to guard a base full of hostiles. It was among the mountains of Canada, snowy and cold.

Sometimes, in the rarity of moments like these, Ghost could go back in time, before everything and feel the Christmas he spent with Johnny, under the covers in the big nest that smelt of the two of them, where the cold didn't pass and the sun came through the curtains.

The walks on a cloudy day, the whispers of promises and passions, the sound.

Perhaps a tear fell in those moments, but Ghost didn't pay it any mind, trying to believe that it was probably a dusting of wind.

On returning to the base, the relaxation in several people was noticeable, Ghost could imagine that everyone had been given the day off while Ghost was away. He understood.

But he didn't understand what he saw in the captain's office when he reported in. On his disorganised desk, Ghost saw a photo. And when he realised what it was, his heart squeezed and his breathing stopped.

Price must have noticed the sudden change in Ghost, he always did. "Ghost..." He whispered.

"It was while I was away, wasn't it?" Ghost pulled himself together quickly, he had no right to be angry, he knew that, but it still hurt.

It hurt to see the photo on the desk showing Price with the newlyweds John Mactavish and Kyle Garrick.

As always, Johnny looked handsome, in a white suit, his hair without a mohawk, and his eyes with an incomparable joy. It hurt to know that he would never be able to give Johnny that joy.

It hurt to leave the captain's office silently.

It hurt to go back to his own room and lock it.

It hurt to lie in bed and feel cold.

It hurt to imagine the past where he still had friends who enjoyed his presence.

It hurt to feel the tears that had been trapped finally come out.

But it hurt even more to know that he was alone for good.

——💀——

Perhaps finally, for the first time in three years since the news of the wedding, five years since everything broke, he finally understood.

He was on a mission, leading several against a group of Russians at the only nuclear power station in Scotland. They stormed the site, eliminating as many hostiles as possible.

And all was going well, until Ghost discovered that there was a bomb inside the plant, which he rushed to try and defuse. On the way he was hit several times, but managed to fight back. 

He managed to defuse the bomb, but there was a problem. The adrenaline began to drain out of the captain, letting him feel every bullet hole, every knife thrust into his arms, chest and legs.

He fell to the ground, crawling over to one of the walls to prop himself up. He called for medical help even though he knew it was hopeless. 

And everything was fine.

In the silence of the room he began to realise, he really had been a terrible person.

Selfish and proud, sins he had squandered, blinded by pain and anguish. Price tried to help, and he ignored him, but he always tried his best.

"Thanks Price." He mumbles wearily. Perhaps the old man, wherever he is, can sense the sincerity.

Going their separate ways was something they both needed, time to heal, all those moments lived would never go away, they would always be kept in a golden drawer.

Not believing what was happening made Ghost blind, he didn't see the pain that Price, Gaz, Farah, Laswell and Soap went through when everything fell apart, the pain they felt.

He was angry that he couldn't have any more happy times with his partner.

He begged any entity out there for just one more moment, even though he knew that nothing could help him. Forgetting that he had to help himself.

‘Crying was for fags,’ Ghost's father used to say, but how could he not cry when he finally realised that there was no turning back.

With a pained sigh, Ghost pulled a photo out of his pocket, an ultrasound scan.

Perhaps it was delirium, but he felt the photo warm in his fingers, the same warmth he felt years ago before he fell into misery. 

"Hey kid, I'm your father..." Bringing the photo close to his chest, his watery eyes dripping tears with the rest of his strength, he understood.

He accepted that everything was fine, that nothing could be changed, but that there was still room for hope for something better. Johnny was still alive and happy, and that was enough.

With one last breath, one last smile.

"Live well... my family..."

═══════════════════════════

Notes:

When I started writing I had doubts about how I would do it, until I heard a soundtrack that gave me an idea.

I then decided to follow the line of the five stages of grief, as it was in my opinion a good fit. Five parts with each stage, starting with denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

Over time we see various actions, manias that Ghost repeats over and over again, the things he most fears happening, but he also forgets that other people are also suffering, which ends up degrading the relationships he has.

In the end he accepted everything that had happened, the pain continued but he still had the memories, and that was enough.

I never thought I'd write an MCD like that, I was surprised.

If you're going through something similar, seek professional help before taking any action. Stay safe and well folks.

Links I used for my research on this story: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/abortion/what-happens/ https://vidafertility.com/en/semen-analysis-results/

[alchemyfire]

About Thermidor and The Incorruptible

I finally got to the end of the book. I still have the epilogue to read, but I can't handle another twenty pages today. So, here are few more excerpts:

-----

Thermidor is the most paradoxical of the great revolutionary days. It is a day of unrealized potential, of aborted insurrection, of unpredictable consequences. It is an episode without design, stumbled through by men who more resemble sleepwalkers than conspirators and their victims. It has entered revolutionary legend for both the right and the left, while the ingenuity of historians has been devoted to explaining why the expected did not happen. The action of 9 Thermidor is static, its drama internal and psychological. Above all 9 Thermidor is an end, and abrupt and unexpected end, and our catharsis is incomplete...

... With France no longer in danger of military destruction, it was widely held, the emergency government could be terminated. But Robespierre was gloomy, Saint-Just downcast, and the Jacobins were without energy. It was not, as has sometimes been argued, that Robespierre and his friends wanted to remain in power and that meant perpetuating the Terror despite the relaxation in the war crisis. Rather, the problem of returning the government to some peacetime basis seemed insoluble. The Revolution had become the work of committees. Convention, Club, and Commune had lost the initiative. The extraordinary and resilient energy that had been generated by his tripartite division of revolutionary activity was gone. To whom could authority be restored?...

...Now that the war was being won, many saw no reason to continue the emergency government, and especially no need to cater any longer to the demands of the sans-culottes. Robespierre's few implementations of the social democracy he envisioned had been tolerated, but barely. It was time, his enemies thought, to be done with this dangerous social tampering; it was time to reassert the rights of those who had hitherto sacrificed their own interests because they were frightened and thought they had no choice. Once the secret was out that the country was no longer in danger, those who had been forced to submit could seek their revenge...

...Robespierre was often absent from the Club, the Convention and the Committee. There were now weeks of silence, mute stratches spent at the Duplay's, perhaps gazing into the pleasant courtyard while exploring his mind, self, and heart. These retreats, a kind of internal emigration, signaled not only physical and psychic exhaustion, but times of depression, doubt, disgust, manifestations of the felt unattainability of all he had dreamed and preached... During these long silences all the synapses of the Revolution, which he had so carefully tended, were left unwatched. Yet the Revolutionary Government continued to function, indeed with grim efficiency. The organism had no further need of his voice. It still demanded the ability to speak, but others could provide the droning noises of uninspired human utterance. No more was now necessary. The heroic, creative days of the Revolution were over. Heroes were no longer needed...

...The speech (on 8 Thermidor), with its fatalism and self-pity enveloping all arguments and tinging all phrases, is unmistakably a testament. His enemies did not know they were going into battle with a beaten and self-condemned man. Robespierre did not appear vulnerable. His enemies attacked not because he was defenseless but because they believed they were doomed unless they destroyed him... It (the speech) reveals the isolation and despair of a man beyond human aid... The leit-motif of his speech is his death. But if he appears at moments resigned to death at the hands of his enemies, deeply concerned to ensure his apotheosis or at least write his own epitaph, yet he has not surrendered. The speech bristles with the old energy of anathema, the thunder of denunciation. He is resigned only to deliverance from the burdens of the Revolution, from responsibilities disproportionate to his strength, perhaps to his genius....

...What is curious is...that he left so much to chance, that he spoke without first having taken all necessary steps to see that things went his way. In this, too, he had returned to the relative political innocence of the first months of the Revolution, when he believed his sincerely felt words would persuade unaided. It is because he was often concerned more about the future than the present on 8 Thermidor that he innocently appeared before his colleagues...

...But if Robespierre's name is linked, reflexively, with the Terror, his name simultaneously is associated with rectitude, devotion to duty, loyalty, sincerity, and moral purity. Robespierre is familiar, in textbook and legend, to expert and amateur, as The Incorruptible... It is not a term of endearment or familiarity. It distances the man from us by elevating him into a moral entity. It is difficult to have great emotional affection for someone who is incorruptible. Then (as still) men felt uncomfortable with the power of virtue...

... Robespierre had by his conduct and his speech impressed his contemporaries with his moral qualities, which he lived and described. Even his fastidiousness of dress and manners did not detract from what was perceived as his sincere and austere virtue. He was able to persuade others to see him as he saw himself, to value in him what he himself thought most valuable, and to tie these qualities of self to the Revolution and to a particular political line...

...Robespierre's self-regarding virtue, his sincere simplicity of life, his persistent championship of democratic causes, especially of equality, all contributed to creating The Incorruptible. He had a kind of transparency of self. Although his revelations of self were public and even theatrical, he was without pretense. There was no suspicion of deviousness or duplicity. In revolution, much more quickly than in peacetime, affectation as well as self-seeking are exposed. Partly the intensity of political activity, partly the risks involved, partly the expectation that revolutionaries be different, that they be better than those they have overthrown, expose the charlatan. It is personal morality and integrity that are especially valued...

...In Robespierre men saw manifest one of their deepest convictions: the Revolution was morality in action. He was a just and righteous man, set apart from so many contemporaries. He was a man formed by the regenerative energy of the Revolution.

Despite his own efforts at enshrining himself as "the representative of the people" and those of his enemies at making him a monster, he is remembered as The Incorruptible. Because of the complexities of his character the epithet itself took on a richness of meaning. Robespierre died a poor man, but his incorruptibility went far beyond his honesty. He was chaste, immune to virtually all the seductions of the flesh. He was contemptuous of the pleasures and attractions that lured many a revolutionary from his austerity and then from his duty. He could be inflexible, deaf to the pleas of former friends, as when he shut his ears to the pleas of Lucile Desmoulins, the wife of his former comrade, at whose wedding he had stood witness. She shortly followed her husband to the guillotine. All these characteristics, both pleasing and repulsive, were expressed by The Incorruptible...

...Men who live with flamboyant virtue make others uneasy. Robespierre, once he had authority, made men tremble, both for their deeds and for their moral shortcommings, since he was incapable of separating the two... Although Robespierre was feared by many, he was less treacherous and deadly than both the cool administrators and passionate terrorists of the Revolution. It is often what a man says rather than what he does, that influences. Robespierre talked a good deal about punishment and Terror and moral laxity in others and consequently earned a sinister reputation. He morally browbeat his contemporaries, and they never forgot how unpleasant an experience that was. For the period of Robespierre's ascendancy, during the final year of his life, men felt powerless before his superior virtue because it was enforced by the Terror. Moral intimidation is humiliating; physical intimidation is not...

...Robespierre saw beyond the practicalities, beyond the mundane and often brutal aspects of the Revolution, into a world not yet born. He was able to show this world to his contemporaries and to persuade them that the birth trauma of liberty and equality was unavoidable, would be survived, would not permanently disfigure the future, and, although painful and bloody, was not evil... The Revolution is the price men must pay for freedom. The great speeches - with a few notable exceptions - are not tactical analyses of what has been and is, but descriptions and apotheoses of a world yet unrealized. These visions of the future, this ability to express the restless longings of contemporaries, was another of the gifts of The Incorruptible... "Our destiny,..is to found on earth the empire of wisdom, of justice and of virtue."...

..."If fortune favors the cause of virtue, of courage and of liberty," he said, "the victory is ours." But even if fortune was against the Revolution, "the Republic and liberty are imperishable and... we will not all be destroyed". If revolutionaries endured, so would the Revolution, for just as the republic lay in the hearts of republicans, so the revolution lay in the hearts of revolutionaries. The spirit of revolution is imperishable...

...The Incorruptible was a being who did not compromise with the enemy. For Robespierre the Revolution was an enormous civil war that had to be fought to its end. Only the unconditional surrender of the counterrevolution was thinkable... The correct line was not one of accommodation and could not be abandoned. Others had changed, others had deserted, but not Robespierre, not The Incorruptible...

..."Who does not believe himself elevated above humanity itself in knowing that it is not only for a people that we fight but for the universe, for the men alive today and for those who will live in the future?" Victory would come "above all from the energy of our souls, the elevation of our characters, the purity of our principles, the prudence of our undertakings." Here is a grandiose vision and purpose. There is nothing mean-spirited about Robespierre's understanding of revolution or history or self. His ideas have a grandeur that comes of spaciousness as well as precision.

The counterrevolution, on the contrary, mired man in his vices and prejudices. Egoism became the most significant word in Robespierre's vocabulary of denunciation. The antidote to this poison was truth. The Revolution was "as immortal as truth, as invincible as reason".

-----

(Extracts from the book The Revolutionary Career of Maximilien Robespierre by David P. Jordan)

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi,JWB.

I want to know what do you think about Anjali not defending Shyam when Arnav slapped him & threw him out of the house? Why didn't she try to leave the house with Shyam while she left the house on Raksha Bandhan clearly knowing how it would effect Arnav? She tried to kill her child just because no one respects shyam, then how come she stayed in Shantivan, where no one respects her husband ? She was upset to see Arnav celebrate Khushi's birthday, that too in their own room, where she had gone without knocking. Does she expect Arnav to leave khushi just because she doesn't like khushi anymore Like the way she is away from Shyam because Arnav doesn't like Shyam anymore?

She was upset that Arnav-khushi lied to her about Buaji's health, but she herself went behind Arnav to meet Shyam without any regret. She never asked Arnav why he destroyed his life by marrying khushi just to protect her married life. She doesn't say anything to Shyam during the second revelation about Arnav's kidnapping while, all the time saying Arnav is like her first child. Then she slapped shyam because he killed her rajkumari, whom she herself wanted to kill & had no regret about. A lot of her actions indicates that she wants Arnav to be happy as long as she is happy in her own life. If something inconvenience happens in her life, then he expects Arnav to be there for her, leaving all his other responsibilities. Does that not imply she is selfish ?

Thanks.

Hi Anon,

No, Anjali is not selfish. Definitely not in this phase of her life.

Anjali does not leave because she has nowhere to go.

Her and Shyam's house is under renovation and none of the Raizadas would let her go.

She has no money in her own name, it's most likely Anjali's shares in AR or whatever Arnav has in her name. And Anjali would consider that money, in this circumstance, as Arnav's.

She did not leave the house in previous Rakshabandhan to make a point to Arnav - it's that Arnav literally told her that Shantivan is his house. Not hers. She felt she overstayed her welcome which is why she ran away, feeling lost.

The birthday thing was oddly shot and directed tbh. The thing is every single proof that Khushi had against Shyam was proven false.

Arnav's words against Shyam would not matter because ultimately it's a situation where both the siblings are supporting their respective spouses.

And remember, Anjali has been in an extremely happy relationship where if there's ever been any doubt, Shyam has cleared it.

Also, no one knows where Shyam is because he was not arrested/taken away by the police. Why? Because there's just no evidence of him having done anything at all.

So the best rationale for this situation is that this is a misunderstanding. Because nothing else makes sense. And Shyam is an expert manipulator. He knows everyone's pulse points.

Also Anjali's whole life shattered. It is not her responsibility to ask people for reasonings - rather it's Arnav, Khushi and the whole family's responsibility to give Anjali a full blown explanation of events to Anjali so she can understand how and why things went the way it did.

And only Shyam is the one talking to her, explaining things. Everyone else is just trying to feed her, give her meds or make her go to sleep.

Anjali was concerned for Khushi and her family, despite all the pain and trauma and misgivings, upon learning Buaji's ill health. And yet again she's proven a fool for believing in Khushi because Bua ji is in perfect health. So why did Khushi lie? There's literally no reason for Khushi to lie about Bua ji's health but she did.

And even Arnav had to have participated in this lie because that would explain why he's away.

Anjali wanted to attempt self harm - just so you know the way she was attempting to abort would've killed/gravely injured Anjali herself.

She was being suicidal which kinda deals more with fractured mental health. Anjali never asks Arnav to leave Khushi, but she doesn't understand why Arnav and his marriage is more right than Anjali and Shyam's.

Arnav has been married for a few months. They barely know Khushi for a year. It's funny they know they family for less than a year and both the sisters from poorer backgrounds immediately got married into the only two bachelors in the Raizada family. It's public knowledge that Arnav and Khushi do not share the best of a relationship.

Anjali and Shyam have been married for years. Shyam has shouldered many of the emotional responsibilities in the household. He has truly kept everyone happy - including Anjali.

Shyam has only ever had the warmest of the relationship with Anjali and has apparently not upgraded himself using her wealth - it's very clear that they're living on his means, not hers. Yes, Anjali's clothes and jewelry are a gift from the Raizadas or Anjali's own purchase but you compare Shyam's clothes with the Raizada bros, or even the fact that it's implied they have a humble home.

And what other responsibility does Arnav have if not caring for the only immediate family he has left? He has no parents, his wealth takes care of his extended family, AR is secure as a company and he doesn't have much of a marriage with Khushi (he takes NO responsibility as a husband, he's literally just learning how to be a partner right now).

I know we are guided to dislike Anjali more because she is the issue between Arnav and Khushi getting their happily ever after but again the real conflict here is Khushi hiding the truth and facing the disastrous after effects of her actions and Arnav's inability to hold relationships.

Arnav does not know how to manage a crisis. His relationship with people is far more executed by the people on the other end and his arguments/mistakes are dealt with a sincere sorry and he expects the forgiveness to be given to a certain extent. Literally all of his relationships exist because the other person puts in work. At the barest friction, he pulls back and gets angrier. So he does not know how to navigate crises and tension with the people he loves.

Khushi on the other hand, she believes pure intentions justify everything and hopes that that will mend bonds.

Like literally Shashi forgives her for Payal's marriage debacle because he understood her intentions. Arnav seeks sorry for the barsi thing because she has a similar trauma as well and did not realize she was comforting out of empathy. Nani forgives Khushi because she realizes Khushi meant to preserve the peace of the Raizadas by hiding Shyam's truth. Payal forgives Khushi because she realizes that regardless of the horrible timing, Khushi wanted Akash and Payal to mend their differences.

So you see.... Khushi actually doesn't ever try to rectify her mistake because she feels explaining things is enough. Which, tbh, it never is.

So in this situation, Anjali is entirely blameless.

We loved Khushi when she supported Arnav despite having DNA evidence that Aarav is his son right? We love other show heroines blindly supporting their heroes. Like all the women in Ishqbaaz?

The same applies to Anjali.

Except, this heroine is in love with the villain.

Best,

Jalebi

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

Actually, I, wanted to confess something to him. I was going to tell him what Bianca and I did tonight in that club, but well, he was faster I guess? 😬

When we got home late at night, I wanted to talk to N.. His Dad invited us to his place some days ago. I asked N., if he still, really plans to visit his father’s family tomorrow? Until now, he never cared about his Dad. Their relationship has been tense for years. But since N. was in the hospital due to that soccer injury and is now home, something has changed between him and his father.

Besides, Nico still hasn’t told me how he got his head injury. He just said it happened during a soccer match. I wanted to know why he called his Dad after this incident, and not me or his Mom?.. He wasn’t honest with me. 😞

In the summer, our little one and I were with Nico in Italy. There I met that girl Sabrina, as you already know. Anyway, I don’t want to repeat myself now and tell everything again.... As you remember, Sabrina didn’t seem to like me. So I asked Nico in the summer more about her (I thought maybe she's his ex or so?) Nico told me (in the summer), they were just friends. But this was not entirely true..

They also had sex in the past, but were not a couple or anything. Why didn’t he tell me that right away? Well- he didn’t want to upset me. It was only once and unimportant to him. He was afraid I’d fly home with our son, if I found out. 😠😞

Now to the second lie, which was actually.... totally pointless in my opinion. Nico said he got injured during a soccer match, but that’s also not true!! It was Jonas, Sabrina's Boyfriend, his team mate, who hurt him! Jonas was extremely angry at Nico, because Sabrina told Jonas that she was pregnant by N. in the past. 😨Yes, I was totally confused & shocked, when he dropped that bomb!!

But Nico didn’t know about it! Sabrina never mentioned a pregnancy to him. She wanted to tell him!! But she couldn't, bcs N. flew back home at that time, to his sisters wedding ( 2 or 3 years ago). Well, and there he met Stephanie. After Melanie’s wedding, Nico and Stephanie flew back to Italy. They were together as you know. When Sabrina saw Nico with Stephanie, she decided to keep her little secret and aborted the pregnancy. Nico had no idea she was pregnant, she never told him. The whole thing came out only now, when Jonas intentionally hurt Nico during soccer practice. That’s why his coach tried to keep the whole thing a secret. Because it was Jonas who hurt Nico. N. didn’t want Jonas to get in trouble for this. He didn’t file a complaint, bcs Jonas apologized to him and also explained, why he got so mad. When Sabrina saw me in the summer with our little son, she.... she was not well, yk? Jonas noticed that Sabrina was acting strangely, especially towards me, she insulted me and made jokes about me. Her boyfriend wanted to know why she is so mean to me? Then she told him that she was pregnant some years ago by N. Jonas thought that N. knew this, but Sabrina forgot to mention that she never told Nico. And so a little white lie, turned into.... a huge mess.

The moment he told me the truth, it was all too much for me.  I just wanted him to leave me alone. Tbh, I even got sick. I thought for a moment, maybe Sabrina had the baby after all?

Previous/Next

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

when was this i love recorded if he was whispering that he loves stephanie? and i don’t understand how could he love her when all she did was use him

Hi, anon.

I apologize for the late response, the holidays have been very busy over here, and I haven’t had much time to draft my responses 😩 As for the other anons who are still waiting for an answer from me, or a request to be fulfilled by me, I will get to them soon! I haven’t forgotten lol.

To answer your question, Chinese Democracy began recording in early 1998, and the sessions weren’t finished until 1999. This means, around that time, Axl must’ve removed the “Stephanie, I love you” outro from This I Love. However, he might’ve discarded it much later in the process since he was still working on the album until 2008.

The history behind This I Love is quite interesting. It is the oldest song off Chinese Democracy and it’s the only GNR song to be written in France. This I Love is known as a “post-illusion song” and was written in 1993, towards the end of the Illusion tours, when Axl was in Paris. This is also the same year in which Stephanie broke up with Axl in February.

The song transpired because Stephanie was cheating on Axl with Warren Beatty while he was touring overseas in 1992. During this time, she probably cheated on him with Charlie Sheen by going to his cocaine-infused parties.

In the book, Watch You Bleed: The Saga of Guns N' Roses, by Stephen Davis, he explains that “[Axl] hadn't slept in three days, and was unable to turn off his stage adrenaline to relax. Axl spent hours on the phone with Stephanie Seymour, and became agitated because she had reported that Warren Beatty had been calling her.”

In reality, she was dating Beatty and was sugar-coating the news to Axl, yet he suspected her ulterior motives. Why would Stephanie do this? Didn’t she love Axl?? My theory is she didn’t love him as much as he loved her. She might’ve had an infatuation with him at one point but, overtime, it sizzled away, and she became attracted to other men, solely because of their net worth.

Another theory I have is, after their breakup, Axl waited a full year before suing Stephanie because he was waiting for her to come back to him IF her relationship with Peter Brant failed. If she did come back to him within that year, he would’ve invited her into his life again, ultimately giving her another chance. But she never did.

In fact, when she was settling the case between Axl, Stephanie was 6 months pregnant at the time with Brant’s child. I find this skeptical because Axl always wanted to have his own kids. It doesn’t make any sense why she never got pregnant by Axl, but she did by Brant upon meeting him in February of ‘93. Something tells me that she did get pregnant with Axl’s child but she performed an abortion because…Well, she knew he wanted to have a family and, since she’s a bitch, she would do such a thing to him. But that’s another theory of mine! I don’t mean to stir the pot or create unnecessary drama about this topic 😅 Some people even speculated Stephanie was pregnant with Axl’s child, not Brant’s. I dunno…It’s just very interesting to think about.

Axl wrote This I Love because it was a way for him to cope with the loss and it was “a great healing experience to compose something you have no real idea you’re capable of.”

Furthermore, Axl devoted the songs to Stephanie’s son, Dylan, so he could find out the truth about their relationship instead of believing the lies from Stephanie. I’m not sure if Stephanie told Dylan about Axl, or if he heard Chinese Democracy, but it’s always best to take precautions IN CASE these things DO happen. Ngl it was a smart move on Axl’s part.

One frequent visitor to the GNR studio mentioned that "when Stephanie Seymour's birthday [July 23rd] came around, Axl seemed to shut down for weeks. A lot of this record is about Stephanie: She was his perfect woman, at least his image of what she should be.” I’ll never understand why Axl thought Stephanie was perfect, but maybe he saw something special in her that’ll we’ll never fully grasp, simply because we weren’t in that relationship to discover it. We can’t deny she had a huge impact on him, though.

Another detail I’d like to note is Axl never blamed Stephanie for cheating on him. He always blamed the men, like Warren Beatty, for corrupting her. For instance, in 1993, Axl dedicated the song Double Talkin’ Jive to Beatty and bashed him on stage, using words, to a large crowd at one of his concerts. This tells me that Stephanie meant everything to Axl and was the “perfect” partner he was looking for in his life, compared to Erin.

[leprosycock]

Could I ask what the story is between your characters? I see little snippets of it with the qnas on your twitter, but will there ever be some sort of comic aspect to it? or writing? They are so interesting to me I must ask.

thank you, i’m so happy that you find them so intriguing!! <333

their ask blog that i crosspost from is here at @ttwkyasks and information about the individual characters are here. they’ve spawned and grown and twisted quite a lot over time, but they originally came from a really dramatic and batshit insane streamer yaoi fic that i began to transform into a piece of original work. the final product will be a multimedia graphic novel that i’m working on behind the scenes, but in the meantime i’m running the ask blog to help develop them as well as i possibly can and iron out kinks in the story.

essentially the plot is about how the hayes family, for all intents and purposes, suffers from a generational curse in which their systems are damaged from a cancerous perversity and they will suffer from a taboo attraction to their own body and blood. each patriarch will poison the next unless the bloodline is completely cut off and no more haysees are born. jay hayes suffered at the hands of his father, who he loathes for poisoning him and relishing in the pleasure he got from the atrocious acts he committed. at age twenty-one, he graduated from community college with a teaching certificate and very quickly married a french immigrant, abigail, who he met at one of his classes in a drunken flurry. unbeknownst to jay, abigail had a murky past that she didn’t offer much information on and none of it really mattered to jay. he was determined to prove that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that his father did by never producing a son, but instead living happily and domestically in a nice little house in the middle of phoenix, arizona, the complete opposite of where he’d grown up. unfortunately for him, abigail began to rapidly fall out of love with jay as he became more and more dependent on alcohol and much less intimate with her. their marriage was thrown into a brutal upset when abigail realized she was pregnant after a condom broke and jay went into a mad, anxious spiral, loathing his unborn son and loathing abigail more for refusing to get an abortion. after annie was born, abigail (who was only nineteen at the time) suffered heavily from postpartum depression and couldn’t connect with her newborn son, so she fled back to boston to live with her family and the son she actually cared about, who she had had at the age of sixteen and had been under the care of her grandparents. jay was now a single father and forced to care for what he thought was a living ticking time bomb.

at the age of eleven, annie approached jay and admitted that he’d experienced something he couldn’t recognize when a girl had stepped on him during recess. jay realized he couldn’t avoid not his nor annie’s fate for any longer and he explained the generational curse to annie, who failed to understand it and its stakes, but he did have an awareness that everything was going to change. ever since then, jay and annie have operated in very twisted, demented ways that are not remotely within the normal confines of a father and son, but instead borderline enemies, hated friends, estranged divorcees, etc etc. annie is currently dating a girl in his grade named claire and jay is dating a college boy named eva. if there’s anything else you’d like to know about them, you can always ask the boys questions at the blog :3c

[oswinstark]

I'm watching a YouTube essay about book bans and challenges and a bunch of people are talking about their favorite banned book and why these bans and challenges are bad because these books are so important

And like yeah they're right, people should read Slaughterhouse Five and Parable of the Sower and Handmaids Tale and all those books that a lot of people can pretty easily come together like "oh yeah that's bullshit these books should be read!"

But I think we need to also remember to defend books that...aren't great literature

I was explaining this to my friends and I used abortion as an example (stay with me here I promise I'll make sense):

A majority of the country is Pro-Choice. They've done survey's and studies and we've seen the fallout of Roe v Wade being overturned (my conservative grandmother called me day-of and ranted about how much she and her community fought for those rights when she was in college). And a lot of times when people talk about how important keeping abortion legal is they talk about chances of death during childbirth, about cases of rape and incest resulting in a pregnancy, about pregnancies that are wanted but something happens during the pregnancy that makes it non-viable...and I think all of these stories are extremely important and should absolutely be heard

But I also think we need to talk about the broken condoms, the people who are shit about remembering to take their pill every day, and people who just straight up do not want children. Because their right to an abortion is just as important, and when you start implementing a morality test and whether or not people deserve to have an abortion, you are playing right into the Christian puritan culture you're claiming to be fighting against.

A Court of Thorns and Roses does not deserve to be challenged and banned. Neither does Fourth Wing, neither does Twilight.

Are these great works of literacy? Eh. Not really. Are they important because their themes speak about really important social political issues that kids should be aware of? I mean, maybe, depending on who you talk to and which interview from the author you're reading, but there are other books that definitely do it better.

"Oh god but there's sex in it!" And? Do you think kids aren't reading about sex? I'm not telling you to stock these books in an elementary school, but there's no reason to restrict high schoolers (and, honestly, with Twilight, middle schoolers) from reading them.

Do I think these books have some dogshit relationships in them? Yes. I have ranted about how toxic Bella and Edward are so many times. I do not like Twilight. But that doesn't mean the book should be banned.

There's nothing wrong with sex. There's nothing wrong with teenagers being curious about sex. Reading about shit relationships in fiction does not mean that kids are going to want to get into a shit relationship themselves. My parents were super open with me about sexuality and never stopped me from reading whatever books I wanted, and I had some...questionable choices in partners in my late teens/early 20s, sure. But I'm here, I'm fine, I worked through it and I'm 35 and married to a guy I love and my family and my friends love.

Reading about things is a healthy way to explore finding stuff you like, in any context. Do you like fantasy? Do you like sci-fi? Do you like romance? You should be able to explore all those things in books. Teenagers should be able to explore their sexuality in books because, guess what, they're gunna explore it. And you might not like HOW they do that, otherwise.

Do I think the faeries fucking books are going to stop teen pregnancy? No. Still #1 advocate for comprehensive sex education in schools starting as early as possible (I started in 5th grade because California). But I also don't think reading about dragons and dragon riders doing the do is gunna make a bunch of teenagers suddenly start decided to fuck like wild rabbits.

They're teenagers. They're gunna do that on their own.

"But how do I know if this is really appropriate for my child?" I dunno, fucking read it?? I wanted to read everything I got my grubby little hands on and when I was in elementary school there were a couple books my mom wasn't sure about so she read them herself first and then it was great because I got to talk to my mom about how much I loved those books.

Maybe you shouldn't be expecting your child's school library (or the public library) to be doing the parenting for you. You don't even have to read the book yourself as long as you're open with your child and non-judgmental to them they might actually talk to you about what they're reading and you can help them gain context.

Imagine, actually parenting your child and not forcing bullshit puritanical beliefs on others. Wild.

Anyway, yeah. Defend ALL books from book banning and challenging, even the ones you think are horribly written.

[thescarletkiller]

Why does Francis family treat him the way they do? And the way they do

//Good question

I’ll start off with Richard here because this asshole of a father is mostly responsible for the way Francis is today. One day, I plan to go into detail on Richard’s backstory in a different post because it’s a whole different story itself as it explains why Richard became the abusive asshole he is and why he treated his family the way he did. But for now, I’ll focus on the reasons why he hurt Francis:

He had been abused as a child like Francis did: believe it or not, Richard did try to be a parent to Francis when Mary got pregnant. Even though he didn’t want Francis and told Mary to get an abortion, Mary wanted to keep her baby. Reluctantly, he caved in. But since he doesn’t know the proper way to raise a child and show his love towards him, Richard got frustrated and repeated what his father did to him onto Francis. When Francis was a child, Richard couldn’t stand how Francis was crying and making a mess on the walls and table. He always blows up on Francis on the most trivial things which is what his father also did to him. Basically Richard’s repeating the cycle of abuse.

His aggressive nature, trauma and mental illness: as you already know, Richard isn’t an easy person to be around. It’s not just because of his own trauma from being abused or what he had gone through during the war, it’s his nature to be aggressive. He developed PTSD, BPD and IED after what he had gone through. He hasn’t undergone therapy since mental health isn’t recognised during the early 1900s. Richard knew they’d lock him up in the asylum if he ever seek help. He didn’t want to go through what his mother did. So he left his mental illnesses go unchecked. And of course, it’s a huge problem, especially for Francis. Due to poorly Richard coped with his mental illnesses with his own vices (drinking bootlegged alcohol and smoking), he takes it out on either Francis or Mary during one of his episodes. Being around Richard is a ticking time bomb for Francis. He’ll never know when his father is gonna blow up on him or not. Richard definitely isn’t fit to be a father!

Untold resentment: Richard definitely hold a lot of resentment for his son for all the wrong reasons. One reason is that he sees Francis as an extension of himself. I don’t mean that he sees Francis as a trophy. I mean all the qualities Richard hates about himself. He projects all of his self-loathing, failures and trauma onto Francis. He sees himself as a victim of some sort and he’s punishing Francis for it. In a way, Richard is punishing himself but he uses Francis as an outlet for it. That’s why you can always hear him say, “You’ll understand if you put yourself in my shoes one day,” or “If it were up to me, I’d dump you in the battlefield so I won’t have to hear your incessant baby whining all day!” Another reason why Richard resents Francis is as you can already tell, he’s the son he never wished for. Not just because he accidentally got Mary pregnant one night, it’s because he wanted a child with an old lover of his. His old flame was the woman he truly loved all this time. But due to circumstances that weren’t in his favour, he was never meant to be with his love. And once Francis came into the picture, he thinks about the child he could’ve had with his old flame instead of Mary. Basically all Francis was to Richard is a burden and a painful reminder that he couldn’t get his old lover back. Until the day he died, Richard is still longing for his true love and the life he could’ve had with her.

Now, I’ll move onto Mary.

If you’ve read all of the lore or the fanfic I wrote, Mary is a good mother to Francis. Unlike Richard who doesn’t give a flying fuck about his son, Mary did everything she can to take care of Francis and make his life happy whenever she could. With how her husband acts towards him, Mary would always protect Francis and take on the abuse from Richard. While she can only do so much to protect Francis, at least she put in the effort.

Unfortunately, Mary did contribute to the why Francis became a serial killer. Years after years of taking Richard’s abuse made Mary go insane. As a result, she mentally broke and the trauma of her husband’s abuse made her terrified of him. And since Francis takes after Richard in terms of his appearance, Mary begins to have hallucinations and thought Richard and Francis were one person and they’re out to get her, which is why she threw a kettle of boiling hot water at Francis out of self defence. The last thing she did before she died was hurt Francis, and her insults impacted him for the rest of his life.

Mary also caught pneumonia when Francis was 17. Due to her fragile mental state and illness, she shut herself off from the entire world, inadvertently neglecting him and leaving him to grow up faster at a young age. While Mary did love her son with all her heart, she couldn’t be a proper mother to him in the end. I’m her defence, it wasn’t her fault. Richard was the one who broke her but she ended up hurting Francis during her final moments.

Long story short, none of Francis’s parents are 100% good people. Richard is obviously the worst out of the two because of the reasons I stated above. He hates his own son. Full stop.

Mary is the better parent here. She loves her son more than anything but unfortunately she ended up traumatising him for the rest of his life. It’s more of a morally grey type of situation with Mary where she’s a loving mother to Francis and protects him from Richard. But unintentionally hurts Francis after suffering a lot herself.

In the end, what they both did to Francis doesn’t justify their actions but gives you an explanation why they did it to him.

[militantinremission]

Is Media's Support of Kamala Harris doing more Harm than Good?

I wanted to hear from All Sides before going over the Presidential Debate. In My Opinion, The Winner of the Harris- Trump Debate was Dr. Jill Stein. Her Presidential Campaign w/ Running Mate, Dr. Butch Ware is gaining steam following their Interviews w/ The Breakfast Club & Mehdi Hasan. They look like the Adults in the Room. The ABC sponsored Debate generated a lot of feedback, but neither Candidate performed very well. Kamala Harris appeared poised, but her Message is [still] too general. Time is running out, so Kamala should be more specific about what a 'Harris- Walz Administration' will look like over the next 4Yrs. Donald Trump looked comfortable in 'Enemy Territory', but may have overestimated his readiness. The Man's debate performance resembled a Sales Presentation; he appeared to be ad libbing off a list of Bullet Points, opposed to the Talking Points that Kamala Harris used. NEITHER were effective in explaining their Agenda, so I gave both Candidates a Grade of 'C'.

Following the Debate, Kamala Harris gave a brief interview to Philadelphia Action News Anchor, Brian Taff that rose eyebrows. In that Interview, Kamala lacked the poise displayed during the Debate; she was back to her Bad Habits. Body Language Experts had a field day comparing & contrasting Kamala Harris' mannerisms from the Debate Stage, to the Action News Interview. A few Content Creators began to ask if Kamala was prepped for the Debate. Meanwhile, critiques of ABC Debate Moderators, David Muir & Lindsey Davis began to echo across Social Media Platforms. Harris' next appearance, at the NABJ Forum in Philadelphia didn't help. Despite a warm reception & softball questions from the Moderators, Kamala Harris appeared uncomfortable, uncertain, & eventually bothered by the questions being asked. She barely shook hands w/ the Moderators before leaving the Stage. Around this time, Post Debate Poll Numbers were coming out.

The Harris- Trump Debate was anticipated, but did little to change hearts & minds. Kamala Harris Supporters felt that she not only handled Trump, but clearly won the Debate. Donald Trump Supporters admit this wasn't his best Debate performance, but they say that Trump held his own in a '3 against 1' Fight. Even CNN pointed out that ABC Debate Moderators fact checked Donald Trump far more than they did Kamala Harris. The usual back & forth between Pundits followed, but was brought to a full stop when an ABC News Whistleblower released a letter that accuses ABC/ Disney of colluding w/ the Harris-Walz Campaign. In a Sworn Affidavit, the Whistleblower says that Harris Staffers dictated which Topics were off limits, while ABC provided Harris w/ sample questions. Using Post Debate Interviews as a Standard for Comparison, Kamala Harris' Opponents point out how much her Pre & Post Debate Interviews contrast w/ her Debate Performance. They cite them as proof that ABC prepped her for their Sept. 10th Debate. Kamala's association w/ Disney Co- Chair Dana Walden & Anchor Lindsey Davis didn't help matters.

The Takeaways from the Debate were:

The Border Crisis

Late Term Abortions

Transgender Surgery for Illegal Immigrants

Haitian Immigrants eating Ducks, Geese, & Cats in Springfield, Ohio.

Despite the narrative of a Harris Victory, Post Debate conversation hasn't benefitted Kamala Harris or helped her Poll Numbers. Any percentage bump that she may have gained was quickly nullified by a 2nd Assassination attempt on Donald Trump at a neighboring Golf Course near his Mar A Largo Residence. Political Insiders say that regardless of what Polling Trends may show, Kamala Harris is in the Electoral College 'Danger Zone'. Her numbers are starting to plateau, while Trump is on the rebound. This might have been the inspiration behind Oprah's Town Hall Rally in Michigan. In yet another DNC friendly environment- complete w/ Celebrity Endorsements, Kamala meandered her way through some pretty straight forward questions. Oprah had to lend an assist on more than one occasion, & very few missed it. Her overall performance was underwhelming; even Oprah had to admit that Kamala failed to answer questions. The Harris-Walz Campaign attempted to shore up deficits in Pennsylvania & Michigan, but did little to influence Rural or Muslim American Voters in either Swing State.

In what has been a very busy News Cycle for Presidential Politics, an unexpected comment from Janet Jackson has created yet another Media Storm. In an interview w/ The Guardian, Janet was asked her thoughts on a 'Black Woman' winning the Election for POTUS. She replied: "Well you know what they supposedly said? She's not Black. That's what I heard. That she's Indian". When the reporter tried to insist that Kamala was BiRacial, Janet doubled down on her answer. Democratic Shills- from Joy Reid & the Ladies of 'The View', to DL Hughley & Roland Martin had something to say about Janet's opinion. To Date, I think I heard Kamala say that she is Black ONCE. This came after seeing a number of Campaign Ads that identified her as a 'Black Woman of Asian Descent', & hearing several Democratic Shills say [relentlessly] that Kamala Harris IS Black. For The Record, BOTH of her Parents identify as 'Caucasian' (Aryan) on their Birth Certificate. I don't understand what the DNC is trying to accomplish. Kamala has yet to be specific about her Agenda for the next 4Yrs. She has begun to put Policy Measures on her Website, but hasn't explained how she will attain Policy Goals.

Mainstream Media has provided cover for Kamala Harris, like they covered for Joe Biden. DNC Friendly Outlets share the same tactic; a knee jerk response of gaslighting Harris Critics & Undecided Voters that contest her History or Agenda. It's painfully clear that Kamala Harris is struggling on Policy Issues. Her response to specific questions has been so redundant that critics believe she's reading from a script. After 3Yrs 8Mos of serving as Vice President, more is expected out of her. Shills like DL Hughley have said that [the Office of] Vice President is not a position of relevance, but Harris casted the Deciding Vote 33 times during her Tenure. In contrast, Mike Pence did this only 3 times. Clearly, Kamala has been an integral part of the Biden- Harris Administration & should be able to ride w/o Training Wheels. The fact that so many 'Aides' have to set her up has Harris Critics & Undecided Voters questioning her ability to Serve effectively.

We know that Obama Operatives like David Plouffe & Eric Holder have been inserted into the Harris- Walz Campaign, so catch words like 'Energized', 'Freedom' & 'Joy' aren't surprising. Mainstream Media has been literally paving a Yellow Brick Road for Kamala Harris to work her Magic, but she lacks the special sauce of a Barack Obama or Bill Clinton. The Truth is, Clinton & Obama did MORE DAMAGE to Black America than either Bush [41 & 43] or Trump. Kamala Harris is in the unfortunate position of following in their wake. She can't run the same Game on Black America that they ran. Blackfolk have Buyer's Remorse & won't tolerate a 3rd Serving of 'DNC Double Talk'. Hillary Rodham Clinton had the same dilemma w/ Black Voters in 2016. Like Hillary, Kamala lacks a Silver Tongue, but has an expectation of privilege that is supposed to carry her into The White House. Mainstream Media has foregone any appearance of objectivity in their effort to make Kamala Harris a Political Rock Star. Unfortunately, this effort has put a spotlight on her consistent inconsistency.

In their attempt to present Kamala Harris as a brilliant Presidential Candidate, Journalists & Shills are revealing that she is not ready for Prime Time. Is this by design? I recall a rumor that started not long after Kamala's 'Selection' that she was being Set Up for a Great Fall. According to the rumor, Barack Obama & Nancy Pelosi weren't pleased w/ Joe Biden seeking a 2nd Term in Office. Americans aren't satisfied w/ the performance of the Biden- Harris Administration, so Gavin Newsome, Gretchen Whitmer, & Josh Shapiro were among those being considered as potential Candidates; Kamala wasn't in the conversation. The Biden- Harris Campaign War Chest necessitated keeping Kamala on the Ballot, but there was a rumored concern about Joe Biden's 'Legacy'. Apparently, the Obama- Pelosi Camp don't want him to have one. Barack & Michelle withheld their support for Kamala, to leverage placement of 'their people' into Harris' Campaign. This increases their influence while diminishing Joe Biden's influence on a 'Harris Administration'.

Billionaire Donors have thrown Hundreds of Millions of Dollars into the Harris-Walz Campaign, but it only appears to be treading water. As We approach the Home Stretch to Election Day, NEITHER Candidate on the DNC Ticket holds a strong position on Important Issues. BOTH have to rely on Media Support & Emotional Buzz Words to keep potential Voters 'in line'. The General Public is more focused on Kitchen Table Issues like The Economy, than supporting 'Forever Wars' in Ukraine & Gaza. This is hurting Kamala Harris w/ Young Adults & Muslim Voters. Taking a step back to review how We got here, I have to ask: Are Democratic Elites & their Donors manufacturing a losing scenario intentionally? Are Content Creators being On Point when they theorize that the DNC wants to weaponize Kamala Harris- in an effort to destroy Joe Biden's 'Legacy,' while they begin the process of selecting a 2028 Presidential Candidate?

All I know, is Kamala Harris had the lowest approval rating of ANY Vice President; then Joe Biden 'bowed out' of the Election & she suddenly became a Political Rock Star. It's pretty clear that Kamala is not living up to all of the Hype, but is it her fault? -Afterall, she is who she is.

[tanimuradefender]

I'm coming out of my Yakuza burnout to say that yeah, based on Majima's popularity a Majima game was bound to happen at some point. He has been on the top of the popularity polls multiple times and the reason why he was such a major player in Yakuza 0. But I'm somewhat hesitant about the fans who haven't played through Yakuza 5 and don't know what information is revealed about Majima. But I guess it's my time to actually talk about my thoughts regarding Majima and how he's involved with the plots in game and Park aspect.

Spoilers below for Yakuza 0 and Yakuza 5 mostly but references from Yakuza 1-4, vague and not in detail.

these content warnings are ALSO spoilers so CW: abortion, underage marriage, domestic abuse and character death

Yakuza 0 was of course my first introduction to Majima and the series as a whole. I don't really need to explain how fantastic his story in that game is, and how he stole the spotlight from Kiryu in numerous ways. However, something that bugs me is that there is absolutely no reference to Park or being in a previous relationship when it would've been fairly recent. Majima only remarks on how he would enjoy someone calling him "daddy" during a substory (in a non sexual context, it was from a child). it always felt somewhat odd to me that there wasn't a single reference to it. In hindsight we can assume he didn't pursue Makimura because of how poorly his previous relationship was but that somewhat ignores what actually happens to them in the game. it would be a grave simplifying of Majima's character arc.

From Yakuza 1 to Yakuza 2 (ignoring the Majima saga and Majima everywhere), Majima is lightly used throughout the story of these games and is mostly used to play off Kiryu which does make the scenes he's involved in enjoyable, but I don't understand how small his involvement is got him so unbelievably popular. His appearance is even more hollow in Yakuza 3.

I also personally don't believe that the transition into his Mad Dog person made all that much sense in Yakuza 0 but that's something else I could go on a tangent about. regardless we got plenty of references to Saejima throughout Yakuza 0 and it shows how important his brother was, what about the woman he was previously married to?

edit: someone let me know I got the timeline wrong, so it would actually make sense there's no reference to Park here. adding it here so the main post is intact but this criticism is inaccurate. that is my fault.

In Yakuza 4 we actually see the writing that makes me enjoy Majima. In Kiryu's absence he drops his Mad Dog persona and acts aimless and doesn't seem to really seem to enjoy what he's doing. his dynamic with Saejima is also revealed in this game and it's probably my favorite part of Majima - it just has to involve a character I prefer significantly more. something something rubber bullets. but overall his appearance is to help Saejima's scenes and his character arc.

So, finally Yakuza 5. the main plot drive here is Majima's believed death. but there's also something I've left out about Park and Majima's relationship. revealed by Park in Haruka's part, she explains how she was an idol married to a man who beat her after she had an abortion. so, about this:

Majima, at his youngest, would've been around in his 20s when he married Park, who would've been under the age of 18.

Majima beat an underage woman who he impregnated after she received an abortion to keep being an idol.

if your instant response to this is "Park could've been lying" or somehow blaming Park, she didn't have a reason to lie to Haruka. there is no single benefit to lying to Haruka, the whole scene where she tells her is framed as an quiet moment between a mother figure and her daughter. also she was in a relationship with an adult man that should be able to control his anger enough not to physically assault his wife.

ultimately, both Park and Majima did not do the best thing they could have in this situation. however, it reveals two character traits for Park and Majima: that Park is willing to sacrifice anything for her own career or the career of others, and that Majima has the potential to be physically abusive.

btw Park dies after she reveals this information.

Yakuza 0 was released after Yakuza 5. So even with this detail revealed amongst the public, Majima still maintained being a popular character.

I'm not here to say that we should completely ignore this information involving Majima or that it should suddenly make you hate a character you love. canonically this event happened multiple decades ago, but something that makes me nervous is that idea that this information will be erased or retconned or changed if we get a Kiwami 5. RGG knows of Majima's popularity, why else is he getting his own stand alone video game? this information was already omitted from Yakuza 0 and is only within Yakuza 5, it would be as simple as removing that line from Park or even changing Majima into a whole other character.

I'm not "Anti-Majima" or a Majima hater or hate Majima fans, I just want people to be aware of this and the possibility of it being retconned or edited.

At the end of the day, I do care about this series but this is just really connected to a greater issue I have with the series in that it's the really strange and creepy age gaps between characters. This is just one of many.

regardless, play Yakuza 4.

[brunette-barbie4562]

Uncharted (Duff McKagan X OC)

Summary: Unsure of her next steps in life, Carreen Joy "CJ" Thompson finds herself taking a job working under the Guns N' Roses bassist Duff McKagan during the Not in the Lifetime... Tour. She faces the fast-paced and foreign world of rock n' roll, touring, and groupies, as well as blossoming taboo feelings for her boss.

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Trigger warnings: Sexual themes, mentions of abortion & drug use.

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Note: Sorry for the late update on this one. The end of the semester happened quicker than I thought it would 😅 I’m going to really try to commit to updates every other week, unless there are special circumstances with school stuff, but I will let everyone know if that is the case. I am a bit of a perfectionist with editing and I like to do at least ten pages of content before I post, so sometimes that slows me down too. Thanks for the patience 💕

10

March 2018

The Farm / Redding, CA

CJ couldn’t help but check her phone every 2 seconds after sending the text to Jess. She didn’t know how Jess would respond, or if she would respond at all. Work picked back up which was a nice distractor, but CJ was drawn back to her phone.

“Hey, you mind grabbing lunch?” Mindy poked her head in the doorway. CJ looked up from her phone.

“Ya, no problem,” said CJ, “Where from?”

“I’m placing an order at Maxwell’s, what do you want?”

“I’ll take a chicken pesto sandwich,” said CJ. Mindy nodded and disappeared from the doorway. CJ leaned back in her chair, listening to Mindy place the order over the phone in the other room. Her phone made a pinging noise from her desk, and she quickly sat up, grabbing it. She had a new message. Holding her breath, she opened the notification to see Jess’ response.

Long time no talk.

CJ quickly texted back as she heard Mindy finish her call.

Can I call you in 10?

Yes.

CJ felt her nerves creep into her stomach. She walked into Mindy’s office and grabbed her wallet and the car keys off the front table.

“Should be ready, or almost ready when you get over there,” said Mindy. CJ nodded, eager to get to the car. She said a few quick hellos to some coworkers on her way out. When she got in Mindy’s car, she immediately put her phone on Bluetooth, placing the call to Jess. The phone rang several times, feeling like an eternity. By the time Jess picked up, CJ had pulled out of the parking lot. The other end was silent.

“Hey,” said CJ.

“Hey,” said Jess. There was an awkward moment of silence.

“I’m sorry,” said CJ, “I know you’ve been trying to reach out, I just- A lot has happened. I know it’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry I didn’t at least tell you I was alive.”

“I was really worried,” said Jess, sounding slightly exasperated. “I don’t have your aunt’s number, so I couldn’t call to ask what was wrong.”

“I know,” said CJ, “I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to hear me explain things, but I’d really like a chance too.”

“Ya,” said Jess, “Please do, I was so worried for so long.” CJ didn’t know where to start. Jess had known about she and Duff’s relationship, how deeply she had felt about him, and how they were trying to plan how to continue their relationship once the tour ended. Jess was one of the few people who had been aware of it. She was also the only person who had warned her about going all in with the relationship. Jess had always been blunt with her. She didn’t pull any punches. She could hear Jess’ words in her head from when she had first told her about Duff; Just be careful. 80’s rockstars don’t have the best track records with relationships. She had waved away Jess’ concerns at the time, but she had been right. She figured she’d get straight to the point. Jess deserved that after worrying for so long.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. There was shocked silence from the other side. “About 15 weeks pregnant.”

“Holy shit,” said Jess.

“Ya,” said CJ, sounding more nonchalant than she felt, “Crazy right? I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago myself.”

“Wait, what have you been doing? Where are you? In California or Seattle?”

“I’m in Redding,” said CJ. She paused for a moment. “Things did not work out the way I thought they would.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” said Jess, “Whose baby is it?”

“I know you already know,” said CJ, not wanting to say his name out loud. Her emotions were mounting, and she was afraid if she said his name she’d dissolve into tears.

“So, are you keeping it?” asked Jess.

“Yes,” said CJ, “I thought about it. I even went to an appointment to have it aborted. I can’t do it. I want to keep it, even if it means struggling for a bit. I can’t describe it, but I’m already in love.”

“Hold up,” said Jess, “You’re going to have this baby, and you’re not demanding child support? That man is rich as fuck, take him for everything he has. You could be in a mansion tomorrow. That child support would be fucking loaded. You are in a great position here, even if it may not feel that way.”

“I don’t want him to know,” said CJ.

“Why?” asked Jess. “Fuck him, take him for everything. He has more money than he knows what to do with.”

“It’s complicated, there’s a lot to explain,” said CJ, as she pulled into the parking lot of Maxwell’s. “Can I call you back in a minute? I have to run into this restaurant and grab lunch. Mindy is waiting back at the office.”

“Honestly, I think this conversation would be better in person,” said Jess. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing,” said CJ.

“Great,” said Jess. “I’m coming down there tonight.” CJ felt her heart leap in surprise and excitement at the thought of her friend visiting.

“Are you sure? I can come there. I know it’s a six-hour drive,” said CJ.

“No, you stay put,” said Jess, “It’s not a big deal. I have Monday off so I can leave Monday morning. I get off early today, in about an hour. So, I’ll go home and pack and get on the road.”

“That would be amazing!” said CJ. “Just be quiet about it around my aunt, she doesn’t know…. yet.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jess, “I’ll keep quiet.”

When they ended their call, CJ sat for a moment, reflecting and feeling grateful to have such a loyal friend.

When she got back to the office, she found Mindy bent over her desk, reviewing some paperwork. She placed her to-go bag down in front of her.

“Thanks,” said Mindy, not looking up.

“Jess is coming to visit this weekend; she’ll be here tonight.” Mindy looked up in surprise.

“Oh?”

“Ya, I haven’t seen her in awhile, we’ve been texting back and forth a bit.”

“Good, you need to go out and have some fun,” said Mindy.

-

By the time Jess arrived it was 8:30 at night. CJ had dimmed the lights and sat down at the kitchen table after dinner, taking a moment to herself. She could hear the low drone of the television from the living room where Michelle and Mindy sat watching. It was a cold night, and the heat was blasting through the floor vents near where she sat. She shuffled her feet over the grate, enjoying the heat, having always been chronically cold in the winter. The glare of car headlights flashed through the window and washed down the wall, illuminating the room. She stood up, her heart pounding as she saw Jess’ Subaru Outback pull in.

CJ pulled open the front door, ignoring the cold on her skin and bare feet as she hurried out. Jess got up out of the driver’s seat and CJ met her with a tight hug. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice cracked as she spoke.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too,” said Jess, muffled by CJ’s sweatshirt. They pulled away from each other and Jess looked down at CJ’s cast arm. “What happened with that?”

“It’s part of the whole story,” said CJ, walking over to the trunk of Jess’ car. “Let me get your stuff.” Jess shooed her away and opened the trunk herself.

“No, no lifting for you.” She pulled her duffle bag out and slammed the trunk shut.

When the two girls got inside, CJ got a better look at Jess. She looked the same; a stocky but athletic build, about 5’4”, black and wavy mid-length hair that was up in a messy bun, and bright blue eyes. The only difference was her once green striped hair was now streaked with purple. She was dressed in her usual comfy outfit, a pair of sweatpants, slippers, and a hoodie.

Mindy and Michelle appeared from the living room.

“Hey Jess,” said Mindy, “Good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you guys too,” said Jess, “It’s been a minute.”

“It has,” said Mindy, “How was the drive?”

“Not bad,” said Jess.

“Did you get anything to eat?” asked Michelle, moving towards the fridge.

“Ya, I got a burger on the drive,” said Jess.

“Well, if you need anything feel free to help yourself,” said Michelle. CJ could see Mindy gearing up to ask Jess a million questions. And CJ was eager to catch up with Jess too, but right now she wanted to get her alone. As Mindy started to talk, CJ interjected.

“I was thinking, how about tomorrow night we all go out somewhere to eat and catch up?”

“Oh,” said Mindy, “Ya, that sounds great! You guys think of a place, and we’ll do it.”

“I thought we’d head to bed early and do something in the morning,” said CJ, looking over at Jess, who looked back at her cluelessly. She quickly picked up CJ’s nonverbal hint.

“Oh ya, that sounds great,” said Jess. After saying their goodnights, CJ took Jess’ hand and gently pulled her into the hallway, down towards the bedroom. She quickly shut her bedroom door as Jess put her bag down. She pulled her sweatshirt off, her T-shirt briefly riding up to expose her stomach. She turned to face Jess whose gaze was focused on her midsection.

“You don’t even look pregnant, not even a little bit,” said Jess.

“Ya and I need it to stay that way,” said CJ, “At least until I can get some things figured out.” Jess sat down on CJ’s bed and patted the spot on the bed next to her. CJ sank down onto the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, taking a deep breath.

“So, what the fuck happened,” said Jess.

“I’m not completely sure myself,” said CJ. “He just left. The night after the last show, before we were supposed to go out and talk about me moving in. He just cut things off, didn’t say why, didn’t want to talk about it. It was like night and day.” Jess was looking down at her feet, not saying anything.

“You can say it,” said CJ, “You can say I told you so.”

“No,” said Jess softly, “You’re going through enough.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

“Well hindsight,” said Jess, “And it’s hard to take a step back and view things objectively when you have strong feelings.”

“That’s why it was so hard the past few months,” said CJ, her voice cracking as she tried to hold it together. “I was so depressed about it I couldn’t get myself to do anything. I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.” A few tears escaped her eyes, and it quickly turned into an uncontrollable waterfall of sobs. Jess gently snaked an arm around CJ’s shoulders and pulled her close into a hug. CJ tried to be quiet, not wanting Mindy or Michelle to hear her. After a few minutes, she managed to gain control and took a deep breath, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“I tried to go out and do things,” CJ continued. “I went snowboarding but broke my wrist. That’s actually how I found out about being pregnant, when I was in the emergency room. Who knows how long it would’ve taken me to figure it out if I hadn’t.”

“Did you not get your period?”

“I wasn’t really thinking about it,” said CJ, “It’s gone away from stress before, so I thought that was it.”

“And you’re definitely keeping it?” asked Jess.

“Yes,” said CJ. “I know it sounds weird, especially since there’s not really anything to see, on the outside at least, but I’m already in love.” She placed a hand on her still flat stomach. “Maybe it’s the hormones talking.”

“Just don’t let the hormones talk you out of getting child support,” said Jess.

“I don’t want his money,” said CJ, “He wouldn’t want this baby anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t owed support, CJ. He made the decision to lay down just the same as you, so fuck him. Your kid deserves the same support as his other kids,” said Jess.

“You know what he told me.” said CJ with a laugh of disgust. “He told me he got a vasectomy right after his last daughter was born. That’s why I wasn’t worried about it. I thought I was being careful, but now I think he lied.” CJ paused thoughtfully for a moment longer. “I don’t know, maybe I didn’t fit in with his lifestyle. He didn’t seem like the type to care about that kind of thing. But he was always surrounded by such glamorous places and people, glamorous women. And who am I compared to all that?”

“Well either way, he should be giving you a monthly payment,” said Jess, “Doesn’t matter who you are or where you are from.”

“I don’t need him,” said CJ, “I can do this on my own.”

“When are you going to tell your aunt?” asked Jess.

“I need to find a place to live first,” said CJ, “I want to have my own place and support myself.”

“You don’t think she’ll let you stay?” asked Jess.

“I know she would,” said CJ, “and I know she’ll love any children that I have, but it’s not fair of me to bring an infant here. She did her part when she raised me. She didn’t have to do that either, but she did.”

-

June 1989

Los Angeles General Medical Center / Los Angeles, CA

Mindy did not think she’d ever see the inside of the maternity wing at a hospital, never mind be present for a birth. But there she was, standing at her sister’s head, letting her grip her hand tightly as she pushed her niece into the world.

The last nine months had been a whirlwind. Heather had gone into rehab quietly and stayed put, which had surprised Mindy. Things went smoothly for the first few months and Heather told Mindy she was working on getting the adoption process rolling.

Then, one day, Mindy received a call from a pissed off Heather. She remembered the first words Heather had said to her before she could even say hello. Can you believe they don’t give you money for putting your kid up for adoption? Mindy could only laugh at her sister’s selfishness and told her that of course they don’t pay you, that would be trafficking. Her initial suspicions were correct about her sister’s motivations being monetary.

Heather had gone on to rant some more about the fact it was too late for her to terminate, and then declared that she’d be keeping the baby. Mindy went from being amused to horrified. She then spent the next 30 minutes trying to convince Heather to go through with the adoption process, but to no avail. She remembered asking Heather, why keep it if you don’t want it? Her response had been, Tax breaks, benefits. Mindy had pleaded, telling her that was no reason to have a baby. She didn’t even have a job to get tax breaks on. But Heather wouldn’t listen.

On a positive note, Heather had gotten clean, stuck to plan, and the pregnancy had progressed typically with no health issues. CPS had been alerted but since she was actively in rehab and had tested clean for the past several months, there were no plans in place to remove the baby. With that, Mindy had been scrambling to get her own shit together. The idea of living with her sister long term was highly irritating. But she couldn’t put her out with a new baby, and she honestly didn’t trust Heather to care for the baby properly alone, especially if her only attachment to it was based on money. She didn’t know if Heather could stay clean. It felt unrealistic to hope for, but if Mindy let her stay and pushed her to get a job and a place of her own, maybe this would be what completely and permanently turned Heather around. She wasn’t hopeful and in the back of her mind she was contemplating back-up plans. She had never planned on being a mother or having a baby. But if she had to, she’d take Heather’s child in. She couldn’t see her niece or nephew go to foster care, no matter how inconvenient or derailing it was for her life.

Mindy had set up a crib and bought all the basic things she would need, preparing for the birth and for Heather to leave rehab and bring the baby home to the apartment. It had cost her a chunk of her savings and she had to remind herself it was for the baby, not for Heather.

Laying in the bed, Heather gripped Mindy’s hand painfully tight and let out a loud yell as she gave one last push. A moment later a sharp cry pierced the air. Time seemed to move slowly as the nurse held the baby and Mindy got a clear look at it.

“It’s a girl,” said the nurse. The baby was chunky and healthy looking, with a thick head of dark brown hair, and a good set of lungs on her as she loudly cried. They moved to clean her off and examine her. Mindy looked at Heather who was sitting there, still trying to catch her breath and looking exhausted.

“You did so good!” said Mindy with excitement. Heather didn’t respond or react to Mindy and just put her head back against the pillow. A moment later, the nurse carried the baby over to them and gently placed her on Heather’s chest. “She’s so beautiful Heather, look at her!”

Heather looked down at the baby, her face expressionless. Instead of holding her closer, she picked her up and held her out to Mindy wordlessly.

“You’re not going to hold her?” asked Mindy confused.

“No,” said Heather. After handing the baby over, she turned away from them. Mindy felt a deep sadness as the baby began to cry louder. A nurse, having seen the entire interaction came over and quietly offered Mindy a bottle of formula.

“If you want to sit here,” she said, gesturing to a cushioned armchair, “and do skin to skin.” Mindy handed the baby back to the nurse while she removed her shirt. The nurse laid the baby on Mindy’s chest and then covered them with a light blanket. Finally, the baby had stopped crying, her dark eyes cracked open and looking up at Mindy. She lightly ran a hand over the baby’s thick head of hair.

“Hey sweet girl,” she said softly to the baby, “Everything is going to be ok. I promise.” Mindy looked back over at Heather, who was still turned away.

-

May 2017

Somewhere over Spain

The feeling of being unsettled had permeated Duff’s day. The morning had gone as usual, other than the groupie leaving his room at 5:30 A.M., prior to there being a risk of anyone else being awake to see her go. He had seen the same woman in the lobby of the hotel just before leaving to drive to the airport. With sexual release came the buildup of his internal emotional tension. The post-hook up crash had him in his head. Being the intuitive and empathetic person that she had revealed herself to be, CJ had picked up on it immediately and asked him if he was ok or needed anything. He had told her he was fine, just tired.

She sat next to him on the plane, focused on updating his social media accounts with pictures and videos from the show the night before. She had been quieter than he was used to her being and he thought maybe he should be the one asking her if everything was ok.

The flight attendant came around with snacks and he wordlessly slid her over a bag of chips. She glanced at it and said a quick thanks before continuing with what she was doing on the computer.

“Hey, you good kiddo?”

“Hm?” she said, looking up.

“You’re just kind of quiet,” he said.

“Oh ya, sorry,” she said absent-mindedly, turning back to her work.

“Hey,” he said, slightly amused at her reaction. “You don’t need to apologize; I was wondering if anything is wrong.” She met his gaze, looking like she had something to say.

“I just don’t like what happened last night,” she said. Duff felt a rush of panic. How did she know. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” His panic immediately subsided when he realized she was talking about their conversation in the SUV, on the way back from the show.

“Oh,” he said, his relief making him slightly dismissive, “I forgot about that.” His statement made her frown deepen.

“Well, I haven’t,” she said, “I feel awful.”

“Relax,” he said, opening his bag of chips. “Like I said, you couldn’t have known. I’m not worried about it. You’re over worrying.” She didn’t say anything more to him but continued to look concerned as he stuffed a few chips in his mouth.

“Maybe you’re under-worrying,” she said, giving him sass. He laughed at her attitude and decided to change the subject.

“Sick of airplanes yet?” he asked. “Cause if you aren’t yet, you will be soon.”

“No, not yet,” said CJ.

“When we get to the North America leg in July, we use tour buses a lot more to get around, unless we’re going from one side of the country to the other. You might like that more. Sometimes we leave right after a show and drive overnight to the next city.”

“I’d be with you for that? Or on a different bus?” she asked.

“Ya, of course,” he said. As the words left his mouth, he realized he hadn’t put much thought into the subject. His previous assistant had traveled with him on the same bus. But it had been different, since his previous assistant had been a man. He had never dealt with having to travel with a female assistant. There were three beds on his bus, one in the master bedroom, which he slept in, one pullout couch, and one over cab loft bed. Despite it being a large luxury RV, he didn’t know if it would be appropriate to share such a close space with her. He didn’t know if he could share such a close space with her. The thought of it made his head spin. He couldn’t think about it now, he had over a month to think about it. He could make decisions later.  

-

Upon landing in Lisbon, CJ received a barrage of texts, her phone pinging several times rapidly. They were all texts from Jess.

Where are you!?!?

What band is that!?

How are you on stage!?

Smiling to herself, she typed back.

This is my summer job, and maybe for longer than that.

A moment later her phone began to ring. They were still taxiing on the tarmac and CJ rejected the call and texted.

Hold on, about to head to the hotel, I’ll call in 30.

Jess quickly responded.

Ugggghhh you’re such a tease.

-

Duff and Mark made plans to meet for lunch after they had settled everything in their hotel rooms. It would be good to catch up a bit during a time when they weren’t backstage and preparing for a show. They planned to walk over together, but Mark got caught up with some business-related matters, and told Duff to go on ahead and get a table. Duff sat on the second-floor balcony of a little café they had chosen on the water. It was a quiet afternoon with only a few other patrons. The weather was breezy and warm, solidifying the relaxed and laidback atmosphere of the place.

When Mark arrived 15 minutes later, he had a look of discomfort on his face. He oddly sat down without saying anything.

“What?” said Duff.

“Have you been online lately?” asked Mark.

“No? not really,” said Duff. “Not since this morning.” Mark pulled out his phone and unlocked it and slid it across the table face up. Duff looked at it and was briefly confused at what he was seeing. It was a Twitter post, posted only an hour ago by what looked like a GNR fan account. It was a picture of him and CJ. It appeared to be from last night’s show, right before GNR had taken the stage. It was taken from somewhere down in the pit. It was a blurry shot of the moment he had bent down from behind the stage riser to hear CJ’s comment about Mark’s performance. CJ was slightly leaning over the back of her chair, her head tilted back. It made her cleavage in the red top she had been wearing look nearly pornographic. His face was turned inward to her ear so he could speak closely enough for her to hear him over the music. But the way that the picture was angled made it look as if he had his face buried in her neck and she was enjoying it and leaning back into it. The caption was short and read: ‘Duff’s new gf?’

-

By the time CJ got to her hotel room and was able to take her phone back out Jess had figured it out. A text from 20 minutes ago read,

It’s Guns N’ Roses, isn’t it.

The phone only rang once before Jess picked up.

“What the hell Thompson,” said Jess, “How are you backstage at a Guns N’ Roses concert and I’m not there!?”

“I can get you tickets,” said CJ, “Pick a date, any date, anywhere.”

“Did your aunt reconnect with Axl Rose?” Jess knew Mindy had been old friends with Axl. It had been brought up a few times during their time in college.

“Apparently they never disconnected,” said CJ, “He offered me a job as a personal assistant on their current tour.”

“You’re Axl Rose’s personal assistant!?” exclaimed Jess loudly.

“No,” said CJ, “I’m Duff McKagan’s personal assistant.”

“The bass player?” asked Jess.

“Ya, that’s the one,” said CJ, walking over the hotel window and looking out over the city.

“You have got to get me tickets!!” said Jess, “Where are you now?”

“Europe until mid-July,” said CJ, “Then we start in the U.S.”

“I’m pulling up the dates now,” said Jess. CJ glanced at the clock on the wall to see that it was 11:00 A.M. She counted the hours in her head.

“Wait a minute, what time is it there? Isn’t it like 3 in the morning?” asked CJ.

“It is,” said Jess, “I was headed to bed, but now I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Well go to bed,” said CJ, with a laugh. “I can get you tickets any time, pick a date and just let me know. I can probably get you backstage with me too.” There was a knock on her door, which distracted her away from Jess’ excitement.

“Hey, I gotta go,” said CJ, “I’ll text you; someone is at my door.”

“You’re killing me,” said Jess, “TEXT ME!”

“I will!” said CJ.

She ended the call and quickly made her way to the door, expecting it to be Duff. Instead, Tate was standing there.

“Hey,” he said, “You busy?” She was caught off guard by his presence.

“Oh, no, not at the moment.”

“There’s a gelato stand just outside the hotel. I was headed down to get some and then grab lunch with some of the others if you’re interested?” CJ had nothing else planned for the afternoon. Maybe the gym in the evening, right before dinner. But it wouldn’t hurt to get some fresh air for a bit. It also wouldn’t hurt to be social and maybe try to make some friends with the people she’d be alongside for the next several months and possibly more.

“Sure,” she said, stepping out and shutting the door behind her.