#facebook? dead and gone and buried
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tragically, though i would love nothing more than to spend the entire winter break sitting and looking at silly little pictures on this silly little blog of mine, i will be taking a step back for the month of december - soo ill see you all in the new year (and if you see me here before that, well, mind your business it’s not my fault i have a social media addiction i am a gen z after all) (okay maybe i’ll let myself log in on sundays as a treat, but maybe not i have to see how bad the SAD gets without my blorbos)
#literally this makes me want to cry every time i do it#instagram? fuck that#facebook? dead and gone and buried#reddit? okay this is fine i can live without constant ts updates#youtube? shaking and sweating#TUMBLR? screaming crying throwing up rattling the walls of my enclosure begging for mercy#i HATE deleting tumblr it’s the worst#but i always feel so cleansed when im off my phone#and i have to do it for at least three weeks or it doesn’t feel like a break#sigh#goldenbluechats
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⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine
⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚
⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?
ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.
But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.
After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.
Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.
It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.
Because it’s dated a few weeks back.
The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.
The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)
All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even
Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.
Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!
Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.
“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.
Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.
Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.
“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.
All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.
“Yikes.”
“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.
Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”
“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.
Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”
You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”
Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”
For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”
By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”
“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.
Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”
In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”
He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”
“But we didn’t amount to anything.”
“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.
“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”
Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”
It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.
“And?”
You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.
“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.
You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.
Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.
“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.
You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.
“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.
Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.
“You knew?”
“Yeah…”
“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.
He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”
“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.
“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.
And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.
“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”
Oh.
SEVEN YEARS AGO.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?
Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.
Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.
With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.
“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?
Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.
“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”
Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.
“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”
Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”
Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.
“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”
That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.
You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.
“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.
Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.
“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.
“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”
“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.
“We need to buy new pans.”
Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.
He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.
Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”
And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.
“Sae!”
“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)
Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.
You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?
Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”
There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”
You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”
Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”
Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.
“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”
There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”
And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.
“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”
As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.
Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”
And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(
You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.
Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.
Two days fly by way too quickly.
The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.
You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.
It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.
You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.
Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.
Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)
Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.
“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.
Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.
Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).
The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.
So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.
At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.
“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.
On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.
“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.
He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.
“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.
And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”
You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.
“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”
With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.
Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.
Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.
“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.
“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.
Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.
“Hey, Y/N?”
When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.
“It’s nothing, goodnight.”
Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.
“Goodnight, Sae.”
Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.
For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)
But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.
When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.
Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.
Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.
Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.
By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.
But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.
On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.
And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.
The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.
You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.
Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.
Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.
Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.
There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)
Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.
He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.
You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?
“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.
You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.
And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.
That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?
So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?
Is it too much if you ask him about it?
“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”
A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”
You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.
There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.
“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”
It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.
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#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#sae x you#itoshi sae x you#sae x y/n#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae#blue lock#૪ aeri’s fics !
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Days in the sun - Walter Deville x Reader -OUAD alt fic!
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Will I tremble again, To my dear one's gorgeous refrain? Will you now forever remain Out of reach of my arms? -
“(Y/N)-NO-(Y/N)!!!!” I screamed out her name, her hand having just slipped from mine-her ring now sitting in the palm of my hand as her form crumbled to the ground-her head hitting something hard-I flinched as I heard her skull crack. I called her name over and over again, my castle staff holding me back from leaping off the cart and going back to save her-I would be no use to her or them dead from the townsfolk.
She wasn’t there when we came back after everything calmed down-I desperately searched for her throughout the forest-calling for her-her ring clutched to my chest, tears streaming down my face. “(y/n)!!!” I screamed and screamed and screamed.
She never responded.
All I found was the rock that was stained with her blood-where her head had been cracked open. I collapsed over it, curling into myself as I cried my heart out, my throat getting sore and dry with how much I cried.
I think I cried out all my emotions that day-because-after that-I felt…nothing. just-emptiness.
Things stayed that way for the next 900 years.
-
There's not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her. My beloved.
My (y/n).
It had been over 900 years since she disappeared, since I last held her hand, since I last heard her voice. At some point-you’d think I lose count of the days, the months, the years since that fateful day. But I hadn’t, my brain constantly reminded me of her, of how long it’s been.
328,777 days. 900 years, two months, three days. That’s how long it had been since I lost my heart-my soulmate. I sighed, leaning back from my current paperwork, reaching up and taking the thin silver chain from around my neck, bringing (y/n)’s wedding ring out to rest in my palm.
To this day-I had, no clue-to where she had gone. She wasn’t dead-I knew that, if she had been killed I would’ve become human again-maybe even died with her. But instead, it was almost as if my heart was taken and locked away, only to be released when I thought of her.
I sighed again, bringing her ring to my lips and closing my eyes; wondering what the villagers had done with my beloved so many centuries ago. Had they buried her? Locked her away? Was she chained to the bottom of a lake-wasting away, waiting for me to find her?
I hated the thought, hated the thought that she might still be waiting for me; waiting to be rescued by her beloved. I covered my eyes at the thought, biting the inside of my cheek as my chest felt heavy all of a sudden. I forced that feeling away as my butler knocked on my study door and I sat up in my chair, taking a deep breath before calling him to come in, hiding her ring behind my shirt.
“yes?” I asked him, a bit tiredly, the current week had been a bit exhausting-with the news of a suddenly appearing Alexander female that was of marital age, there was a shortage of something within the town that apparently needed my attention, Viktoria was being oddly clingy in way that wasn’t exactly-endurable, and the sudden waves of paining guilt that were piercing my chest before, during, and after each meal I ate.
That had happened more often-first starting 10 years ago now. I couldn’t quite place why-for the last 900 years-after she disappeared-it felt like my emotions were locked behind my own heart. I never had time to dwell on why it was happening.
My mind was brought back to the present as Mr. Field stood in front of my desk, handing me a file with Ms. Evelyn ‘Alexander’ Jackson’s information in it. “oh, good” I muttered, taking the file and opening it, pulling out a printed version of Evelyn’s Facebook profile. She was quite the specimen, dark curling hair with piercing brown eyes, a nose ring complimenting her facial structure and lips. She was beautiful-though no-one would ever match my darling (y/n). I looked up, seeing Mr. Field still standing there. “Anything else?”
“Oliver Alexander called, he said Ms. Alexander did agree to fly in for the wedding, she thinks it’s a wedding for their cousin and your niece at the moment” I chuckled, sipping at the scotch that sat on my right-hand side. Niece, I was the only Deville left-neither of my sisters wished for children and I never had the opportunity to…well, I did-but the person I wanted kids with wasn’t around anymore. “but, she requests to bring a friend of hers along”
I nearly choked on my drink, looking up at my butler in shock. “really?” I asked, calming myself and setting my drink down, licking my lips as he nodded “and-who is this friend?” maybe this friend of Evelyn could be her first meal as a vampire-as a proper goodbye to her human life(I felt a sharp pain in my chest at that idea, what was this feeling?!)
“Oliver says her name is (y/n).”
My heart skipped a beat.
No….no it-it couldn't be-it couldn’t.
It would be impossible.
There were millions of (y/n)’s in the world-there had to be-it-it couldn't be my (y/n). It would be impossible.
Her ring sitting on my chest suddenly felt so present-even more so than usual. I didn’t realize I was zoning out, Mr. Field looking down at me concerned, tilting his head slightly “Sir? Master Deville?” I looked up at him, clearing my throat, waving my hand in dismissal. “yes-of course. This, (y/n)-” my mouth felt dry at the name-and my body felt warm-but I forced myself to believe that it wasn’t my (y/n).
It couldn’t be.
She was gone. I had to accept that.
My mind went to the pocket watch that sat in my bedroom desk drawer, our song sitting locked within its gears. “-is welcomed to come along with Evelyn.” Mr. Field nodded, a bit-concerned-at my current reactions to this friend of Evelyn. But he bowed out with a wave of my hand, leaving me to practically sink to the floor out of my chair, my heart suddenly beating out of my chest-something it hadn’t done in decades. Centuries even.
Just her name sent me into a whirlwind like this.
“it’s not her, it’s not” I whispered to myself, covering my face with both hands and taking a slow sobbing breath. “it’s not. She’s gone.” I bit the inside of my lip-I hated admitting that to myself, but-the man who she loved was gone, so reasonably-she was gone too. The man who clung to her had been left behind in the abandoned castle-I needed to let her go.
I touched my cheek-it was blazing warm-my eyes burning with tears. “fuck” I cursed, tipping my head back and taking several deep breaths; i needed to gain control of myself-all while wondering where all this had come from.
Guilt for feeding on innocent people, pain when I remembered my dear (y/n), and all this-blubbering-over her name.
What had happened? What had happened to the emotionless Walter Deville?
-
Mr. Field stopped as he made his way through the halls, feeling as if he had forgotten to ask the master something about the new Alexander brides friend. He brushed the thought off-he was sure it wasn’t important.
-
In the next three weeks-the household of new Carfax abbey got ready for the arrival of the new lady Alexander, and her friend. An extra guest room was made up, and the Alexander suite was readied for a new generation-fitted for a young woman like Evelyn. Soon came the day of her arrival-only five days before the wedding. Only she didn’t know it was hers just yet.
I brushed my shirt clean-running my hands through my lightly gelled hair to smooth it back. My eyes caught onto the painting that hung above the doors that led into my room-(y/n)’s ever-kind eyes staring back at me. I sighed, feeling her ring press warmly against my chest-I blew her painting a kiss and exited my room-it was around the time Evelyn would arrive along with her friend so I should get going. I frowned at the odd-tugging sensation that pulled at my chest-a wisping wind at my back-pushing me towards the front yard.
I shook the feeling off, doing one last check of the house before I began making my way downstairs, huffing to myself as I read through the report Mr. Field had given me for the wedding. “of course, the flowers are all messed up-and then her dress won’t be here till Saturday-only a day before the wedding.” It was Wednesday now, and I hated cutting things close-I preferred everything to be on time-maybe even early.
“You’re going to give yourself grey hairs worrying like that” I sighed, turning to see Viktoria, her dark hair pulled halfway back into a bun-the rest of her hair framing her face. “and you’re supposed to be in your room” I muttered back, looking down at the papers and signing a few with a pen I had taken along for the ride. “Evelyn has no idea about all this-so technically-you shouldn't exist quite yet, not till the cocktail party.”
Viktoria clicked her tongue, making her way down to me-meeting me halfway on the staircase “oh don’t worry, I’ll be away from your blushing bride in just a moment, I was just wondering if the food had arrived?”
The maids, she meant the maids-but Viktoria had always been easygoing about what we fed on-even if I was beginning to feel queasy about it. I cursed at the feeling, not 10 years ago I could ravage several women within a day and feel nothing for them-yet now I could hardly kill a mouse and not feel guilt. I-I didn’t necessarily mind feeling this way-it…it made me feel like (y/n) was around again. But it was useless for the life I lived now.
“They should be out front,” I muttered instead of revealing my inner thoughts to my eldest bride, folding away the papers and going to put them inside my study “now go. Evelyn should be here any minute.” Viktoria huffed at the mention of the new bride, she was jealous-of course she was- but she obeyed and stalked away. But I knew later there would be some complaints from her.
I made my way outside to check with the gardener-when a voice caught my attention-a new one. And she sounded quite perturbed with my butler, I sighed, having a feeling he had gotten a bit cruel with the maid staff that had arrived-if I recall-I heard one of them drop a case of champagne glasses.
I began to make my way over-hoping to smooth over Evelyn’s first interaction with my staff and make sure her initial impression with the manor wasn’t on such a sour note. “Did I stutter?” Evelyn snapped, holding an intricately made vase to her chest, glaring at my butler who seemed ready to spout some words that neither I nor Evelyn would have liked to hear.
He was a good butler-but gods he was a bit of an asshole. “At ease Mr. Field” I quickly called out, hands in my pockets as I approached my new bride, her dark brown eyes turning over to me-the thinly laced anger in her eyes not disappearing at the sight of me. Though I didn’t expect it to-from her files-she was a bit of a spitfire. “I believe this is one of our important guests” I ended with a soft smile aimed at Evelyn-though something-I didn’t know what-was screaming at me to look just behind my new bride.
I only glanced, holding back a frown as I felt my heart skip a beat as I looked at the new person that had arrived with Evelyn, she was holding her finger in her mouth-her back turned to me. I looked back at Evelyn, smelling blood from this new person-she must’ve been Evelyn’s friend; (y/n). My heart skipped another beat at the thought of her name.
“And that makes a difference?” Evelyn muttered, glaring at me a bit-at the notion that her new connections to the Alexander family made a difference in how she was treated by my staff. Mr. Fields bowed-all but confirmed Evelyn had made a correct assumption “my sincerest apologies ma’am.” Evelyn just glared, and I glanced at my butler-who quickly bowed off, realizing he wasn’t welcome anymore.
Why was my heart going crazy-what the hell was happening? I could feel it beating out of my chest like I was alive again-the last time this happened was-was when I saw (y/n) in her wedding dress. “Apologies,” I said instead of focusing on my odd feelings, turning to watch as my butler walked away “he can be a bit demanding.”
Evie grumbled to herself, glaring after my butler “More like an asshole,” I couldn’t help but chuckle, smirking at my new bride-she was quite amusing “Ah, so you must be Evelyn~” she furrowed her brows at me, moving her hair out of the way as squared her shoulders slightly. “Evie. And you are?” I was about to introduce myself, my eyes flickering back over to Evie’s friend, something kept drawing me to her-and I couldn’t figure out why.
I felt like I knew her.
“Walter!” Evie’s friend’s shoulders dropped slightly, as if disappointed by my name, slightly glancing at me as she continued to nurse her finger-I couldn't see her eyes just yet but I could feel them on me-and my heart continued to beat like a hummingbird's wings. What was going on with me? Oliver jogged over to stand next to Evie’s friend, taking my hand and smiling at Evie “You beat me to the punch,” Oliver joked, pulling back and putting his hands in his pockets. “you’ve been introduced?”
Evie gave a very disappointed sounding “Yes.” while I said no, so I just grinned in that way I knew made every girl melt and tilted my head slightly “Well, not formally” I muttered, I watched as Evie clicked her jaw and stepped back towards her friend-who finally turned to look at me. And I locked eyes with her-and
And-
And-
Oh, oh my gods.
No-it-it-
It was impossible-it couldn’t be?....
(y/n)?
That-this was my (y/n), my darling (y/n), it had to be-no one could ever match her beauty so well as this woman did-she had the same eyes-the same lips-the same face, the same shining hair-this…
How-how was she here?
What had I done to earn her presence again?
I felt my heart stop again-my hands shaking in my pockets-my lungs unable to function as I took my long-lost beloved in. It-had to be her, it had to be-this had been what my body was pushing me towards-begging me to reunite with my beloved, to be with my darling (y/n). every part of me screamed to take her in my arms, to hold her, and never let her go again.
I forced myself to look back at Evie, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t (y/n), that I was forcing her visage upon Evie’s friend. But every time I looked at her-that visage never faded, and that pull I felt never left. Oliver introduced Evie and her friend; (y/n), and I could only try to keep my eyes on Evie while my hands trembled, unable to focus as my mind speed-ran the stages of grief and disbelief.
This had to be a-a dream of some sorts-a trick-a nightmare-(y/n)-my darling, my dearest-couldn’t have just-shown up suddenly. I was going to wake up in my bed-and restart the day-and this (y/n) wouldn’t be my (y/n). Oliver introduced me, and when (y/n) heard my last name-she perked up, and-and that gave me just a bit of hope.
Did she recognize me? Maybe this was my (y/n). I kept switching up on myself, telling myself it wasn’t my (y/n), and then the next moment I believed it truly was my darling.
Then It hit me- I should probably talk again, and so I told Evie she could just call me Walt-teasing her for telling me I could call her Evie instead of her full name. (y/n) licked her lips at that, pulling out her sliced finger from her mouth, frowning down at it as Evie finally noticed the injury-as did i-and pulled (y/n)s hand into her face “(y/n)! when did that happen?!” (y/n) was about to answer but I stepped forward and took her hand-and the moment I touched her skin-it was like lightning went down my spine.
Her eyes met mine-and I felt my body come alive again, my mind a flurry of emotions I hadn’t felt for years.
It was truly her-this was my (y/n), my beloved. My lady. I could hear the blood rushing to her cheeks as I examined her cut, frowning at the blood that began to pour from it again “glass-shard-cut” (y/n) stuttered out, her cheeks flaring to life as I held her hand gently.
Oh gods-how I had missed the sound of her voice-like soft snow bells on a winter evening, calm waves on the shore, songbirds in spring-oh how I could listen to her for hours on end, wishing to bury myself within her voice. I blinked back to reality as I realized I should get her taken care of quickly and started tugging her into the manor, leading her towards the kitchens-she resisted for only a moment, glancing back at Evie-who shrugged, looking just as confused as Oliver did-wondering why I had taken a shine to this ‘random’ girl.
I wondered when (y/n) would drop the act, and smirk at me like she used to when she played teasing tricks on me-like she always did when she helped my little sister prank me. Probably once we were alone-then that look in her eyes that she reserved for only me would return-and I would shower her in the affection I had missed giving her these last 900 years.
But as I cleaned her wound, and placed a Band-Aid on it-that look never appeared, instead, there was only confusion. There was no spark of familiarity-and I realized-I hadn’t seen it once from her. Why was she acting as if she didn’t know me? “There we go,” I muttered as I finished dressing her wound, stepping back to give her some space-watching carefully as she curled her hands into her chest-looking up at me through her lashes. “All better” she thanked me quietly, bowing her head as she did.
“you didn’t have to do that” she muttered, and I nearly scoffed, shaking my head-how could she say that? I would do anything for her. “no worries,” I said instead, my eyes drawn down to the leather chord that laced around her neck, her fingers fiddling with it-could that be? “so how do you know Evie?” I asked, genuinely curious on how my beloved had come to know my new bride…okay that sentence was very weird to me now that (y/n) was back.
Might have to make a major change of plans.
As (y/n) explained how she had met Evie-and became friends-my mind was stuck on the fact that she had been homeless for six years. I could only imagine her scared and alone-shivering as the night chill settled in. my gaze settled back on her as she tucked her chin into her chest-something she always did when she felt shy or uncomfortable.
“Why were you homeless, if-if that’s not an invasive question?” I needed to know, why had she been alone? Lost in a world she had been missing from for 900 years-when had she appeared? How long had she been just out of reach? (y/n) laughed awkwardly, fiddling with her necklace as she glanced to the side, shrugging a bit. “oh! Uh, this is-going to sound strange but uh,” she bit her lip, as if unsure she should tell me something “I woke up about ten years ago, with no memories.”
She…..she didn’t remember anything?
She-she didn’t remember me?
I felt the brimming hope in my body die out at that, my shoulders dropping as I looked at my beloved, who had finally returned to me after 900 years…only to not know who I was, and who she was to me. “I barely knew my name, I really only remember it thanks to this-voice,” I perked up at that, a voice? “I remember calling for me but uh-yeah, I was just-wandering around by a town and this-old couple brought me in and gave me a place to recuperate for a week, and then…I was in New York.”
She shrugged after she finished her sentence, as if it wasn’t a big deal-but all I could feel was a resounding ache in my chest, (y/n) didn’t remember me, or our past-or what she had done. And-and I didn’t know if she would ever remember me. I licked my lips, glancing down at my feet before she caught my attention again, bringing out the necklace that was hidden by her shirt.
“But,” and there it was, the necklace-the blood red gem held by silver and leather hanging from her neck, my first initial and last name carved into the side. Our eternal bond, her spell, my soul.
This was truly my (y/n).
“I do have one clue, and that’s H. Deville….” She looked up at me, biting the inside of her lip, as if unsure she should ask me something. “i-I was wondering if you knew him? or her?...them?” I couldn’t help but just stare, my tight grip on the kitchen counter about to break the marble-wishing to just-take her in my arms and hold her tight, wishing for the universe to never take her away again. Half of me expected to wake up, as if this was just a dream-that I would wake up to her missing from my life again.
But it wasn’t, she was here-my darling was here-I just had to find a way to get her memories back. “You really are her,” I whispered instead, running my hands through my hair, my bangs falling into my face “Holy shit, I thought you died.” (y/n)’s entire face lit up and she stepped towards me, our faces about a foot apart-I didn’t move, just staring into her wonderful eyes. “You know me!? You actually know me?!” she nearly squealed, and I felt awful for what I was about to do-I couldn't just-tell her I was Harrison-her beloved-her husband-for that was who I was-or who I used to be.
Everyone in the manor knew an entirely different person-and If I told her the truth-it would could break her-I didn’t know if she could handle it all right now. She only just got here-assuming H. Deville was someone other than i. “Yes, H.Deville” I nodded at her question, pointing at her necklace that meant so much more than she realized “Harrison Deville” it felt so odd to talk about myself as if Harrison was a completely different person-as if he wasn’t me. “he uh, was a close family member, my uh” quick what was he to me? What could I use that would be close enough to him so I could keep close to her? “my brother in fact”
Perfect-and if she asked-we were twins. I would apologize later if she regained her memories but for now-this story would have to do-I could only hope no-one got in her face about it because I had never had a brother-only sisters-and not even my wives knew that fact. I smiled through the pain of lying to her-watching as she took a breath and covered her smile with her hands-her eyes so full of hope and life.
Oh my beloved (y/n), if only you remembered.
“Harrison” she whispered my name so sweetly, and I wanted to cry, I hadn’t heard my name since before…all of this, since she disappeared. Oh, gods I wanted to hear it from her over and over again. I wanted to take her and run away, live as we used to, I-I wanted to love her again, as she deserved. “Is-is he here? can I see him?” she asked, looking so excited to see the name behind her necklace.
‘You’re looking at him’ I wanted to say, I wanted to tell the truth, to tell her I was her beloved, and she was mine. But I didn’t, holding the pain behind my heart and shaking my head-biting the inside of my lip as her shoulders dropped, looking so disappointed-a look I wanted to throw into an inferno. “why not?” she asked, furrowing her brows. I had already cornered myself, telling her the name of the man she had been looking for and then telling her she couldn’t see him.
I didn’t want to lie to her again, so I told her a half-truth-since he had died 900 years ago-when she disappeared. “he’s uh…” I sighed, tipping my head down “he died a long time ago, just after you disappeared” I whispered, watching as her entire demeanor dropped-looking so…disappointed, and sad-like her heart had been repaired only for it to be shattered…by me.
Oh my darling-I’m so sorry, how I wish I could tuck you away in my arms, and keep you safe, like I couldn’t 900 years ago.
“Who was I to him?” she asked, voice soft and unsure, those gleaming eyes looking into mine-eyes I had missed so much. Who was she to Harrison? Oh, darling;
She was sweet cream on a bitter day, a spring breeze in a cruel winter, a rose in a garden of thorns, the full moon in a blanket of stars, sweet rum on a snowy night, snowflakes in a sweet snowfall, songbirds on a battleground, warm blankets on a rainy night, sweet kisses through heartbreak.
My beloved, my true love-my soulmate. My savior.
“You were his beloved, his first and last true love,” I said instead, forcing away the crack in my voice as (y/n) flushed at the thought of her being someone’s beloved, I held back a smile as she bit her lip, fiddling with the necklace. “Come,” I said, holding out my hand to her “there's something I have to show you”
She tilted her head at me, then took my hand-lightning going down my spine again as I led her out of the kitchens and upstairs, taking a right at the hallway split and towards the master suites-where my room was.
And a room I had hoped to be used one day-but never thought it would be. Her room.
-end of p1-
Well-hope yall enjoyed p1~~~~ be prepared for a whole lotta angst-longing inner monologues, simpness, and Walter/harry being a sweetheart/protective asshole. More to come soon!!!
taglist! (so far, if u want to be added just ask~!)
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#walter deville x reader#walter deville#the invitation 2022#once upon a december#ouad#Walter/Harry's pov#ouad was Anastasia-this shit be beauty and the beast but also Anastasia#days in the sun#dits
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Story time! I legitimately liked Clerith at one point. A LOT. I played the original game back in the day and I wanted to join the Clerith community. I did so on Discord and nearly instantly was put off by several things within the community, but I pushed it down and told myself I was overreacting. First, it was small things - like how they loathed Team Four Stars' parody videos because of how they treated Aerith. (1)
when in reality all of the characters were given shitty attitudes and backstories because ya'know it was a parody! It felt hyper-sensitive to me for no reason, so I kept it to myself that I loved the video series and went on. Next was how they hated Tifa and willfully misinterpreted canon and characters. Believe it or not I genuinely like Tifa - she's complex and has beauty and brains and brawn so I don't see anything to dislike. But I couldn't exactly say that to them, and any suggestion (2)
that Tifa was a good character got major pushback. I shut up. What really pushed me over the edge was one user I can't recall the name of so I won't guess, but she was a bigwig. I wanted to join a specific part of the Discord. It was advertised as "debate friendly" so I thought - okay finally here is my shot at speaking my mind while not being dog piled. I asked to join and she said basically she had to verify I was a real person so she needed my real Facebook. (3)
A little creepy, and a little odd I thought since I had been in the group for over a month and had caused no trouble (I learned quickly what was and was not okay to say) but I gave it to her anyway. Keep in mind I was a minor at the time. She came back to me and said "You look like my relative." This tells me she was snooping on my page since at the time my profile picture was actually my cat and any pictures of myself were buried some ways back. (4)
About an hour later she told me she denied my request to join because she saw where I had posted Tifa fanart months ago, and since my Facebook was only two years old (again, I was a minor and had only been allowed to get FB roughly two years prior to this) that she was convinced I was a troll. Insert youvegottobekiddingme. png here. I told her she was paranoid to which she went off on a paragraphs-long spiel about how the Clerith community has been prosecuted by Clotis for ages. (nearly done)
I eventually got tired and blocked her and removed myself from the group. Because of that, and another encounter I had much later (in which my sexual identity was mocked) and an encounter a friend of mine had in which she was goaded into crying over her dead husband when she dared suggest that even if Cloud did love Aerith it's cruel to want him to stay single and mourning for the rest of his life, I have thoroughly decided I cannot stand Cleriths. They made me dislike Aerith. (fin)
Sorry for the late reply, anon. I wasn't ignoring it 😅
Tbf I don't like Machinabridged either, but my response is to just ignore it exists. I don't think I've even watched the whole thing. I've never gone off at the team behind it, but then I rarely give a shit because whenever I do I get slammed by tons of people. So, always remember to never express an opinion that differs from the masses, but if you do express it don't expect anyone to be on your side even if they claimed to be your friends.
Yeah, asking for personal info is a huge red flag for me. Nobody needs to know that unless they have plans to use it against you later. That's why I never give out personal info to people. Cleriths generally use it to make sure people don't stray from their hard-line hating. "If you like Tifa, we'll tell the fandom who you really are" kinda shit mentality.
Honestly, it sounds like you were in the cult's discord. Those are things I've heard them do to people. They're legit terrifying en masse. I mean, most large groups are, especially when one person weaponises them against a single person. Fandom and social media shouldn't be a numbers game that people then utilise to push down those with lower numbers than them, but that's what it is.
What's funny is their behaviour makes people dislike Aerith, so you'd think they'd care about how they come across. But then again, they don't even like her, she's just a straw doll they shove in front of them so they can throw shit at people from behind her and then say she's the reason for their actions.
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I had a horrible dream about you last night. I don't have your phone number, I've lost it somewhere along the years.
I have your mom's number. And your step dad's. Do either of them remember me? Could I text them and ask if you were okay, or would they think it was spam?
Google hangouts is dead now. That's how we used to talk. I have your Facebook. I sent you a message as soon as I woke up, tears running down my face. You haven't read it yet.
In the dream, you had killed yourself back in highschool. Your parents had given me this black box of your remains, and I'd stored it for years in my parents house, never daring to look inside and see the last of you.
I remember sitting on your bed when you showed me your father's ashes compressed into this pink plastic container. It was shaped like a heart or a star I think. It has his name in black font across the top. You rubbed your finger over the edges.
I didn't want to look in that box and find a matching plastic piece of you.
Wendy was the one who gave me the box in my dream. She was pissed, but not at me. At you. For dying and leaving yourself in my hands. A girl who had abandoned you.
Sometimes I wonder how you think about our past. Do you wonder how things could have gone differently? Do you still think about your curses that silenced the cafeteria and the peach pit in my hand? Do you think about the day you called me terrified of your boyfriend years down the line?
I never forgot you, you know. I think about you a lot. I wrote a book about you, about your life and my life and how it all got twisted. About how we were kids with far too high expectations. About how you were the last person on Earth to know me before I lost so much of myself.
You knew the sunshine, yellows, always positive and preppy version of me. Im fighting still to get the pieces I want of her back, but I still wonder if you would recognize me at all now. Could we walk by each other and pass as strangers?
I didn't talk about it then. I didn't know how, and no one could handle the small problems I was bringing up. I grew up in an abusive household. Things were always a little bad, but it got so much worse the first year of high school. I lost my faith in humanity.
Sometimes, I think I was wrong to lose faith in you, though.
Other times I think you really would have hurt all those people had I not stepped up.
My parents moved a couple of years ago and left a bunch of my stuff in a storage unit that I continue to stall on opening. In my dream, I found your box there. I took it to two of my current friends and asked them for help finding a place to bury you. I wanted you to rest, I didn't want to hold on to you anymore.
We walked through several forested places, somewhere in the celery bog probably. We knelt down in a muddy area where the forest met the creek. I figured you, or at least the old version of you, would like it there.
Slowly, I unpacked your box. There was no plastic heart or star. There was a small bag of ashes and a bag of bones I couldn't identify. Those were the only human remains your mom had given me. The rest was just what remained of your life.
Rocks, gems, twisting branches, beaded jewelry, hand-embroidered pins. I sorted these pieces of you out on old linens on the forest floor.
Why did you leave these to me?
What pieces of you do you want me to keep?
The dream ended around there, but it felt so real that I woke up still believing fully that you were dead. Off I went to Facebook, reaching out to you in panic for the first time in years.
I'm still waiting to hear back.
You knew me back when I trusted my intuition more. I hate to think that my dream means anything real.
I know we aren't close any more. But I've never called you anything other than my friend. I have never stopped caring about you, and you don't need to feel the same to keep my number in your phone just in case.
Just tell me you're okay.
My friends now tell me I ask if they're okay far too often. I don't think they see this anxious intuition inside of me. This breathing thing that knows when something is wrong.
Just tell me you're okay. Please.
#old friend#the dedication in the front of your story reads:#to the one who was ever so much more to me than a tree
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The Dark Story Behind Team Thackeray Leader's Murder On Facebook Live
Mauris Noronha shot dead a prominent leader of Shiv Sena UBT, Abhishek Ghosalkar, on a Facebook live yesterday. The two have been at loggerheads for quite some time and were reportedly burying the hatchet during the video.
Popularly known as Mauris ‘Bhai’, Noronha was a poker player who had gained a positive reputation for assisting thousands of underprivileged individuals during the COVID-19 pandemic. He had recently returned to Mumbai from Los Angeles. His intention to contest the upcoming corporator elections took a hit when the son of a prominent Shiv Sena UBT leader, Abhishek Ghosalkar, opposed his candidacy.
The situation further intensified as a case of rape was registered against Noronha, leading to his arrest. Suspecting that Abhishek Ghosalkar was behind the legal troubles he faced, Noronho allegedly came up with a plan and shot Ghosalkar multiple times before taking his own life.
A viral video of the incident, which took place at assailant Noronha’s office in IC Colony in the northern suburb of Borivali (West) on Thursday evening, showed Ghosalkar being shot in the abdomen and shoulder.
Abhishek Ghosalkar (right) had gone to Mauris Noronha’s office to talk and resolve their differences
Two FIRs have been registered in the case, one for murder and the other for suicide. The Crime Branch of Mumbai Police has taken over the investigation into this tragic incident.
Mumbai police have arrested one person after Ghosalkar was shot and killed on camera. The person arrested, Mehul Parikh, was also reportedly at the site when the shootings took place.
During the live, Noronha gets up to greet Mehul Parikh. Shortly after this, the shootings occur. The police are investigating whether Mr Parikh played any role or had prior knowledge of the shooting.
The murder of Mr Ghosalkar comes days after a BJP MLA was caught on camera firing at a leader of the Eknath Shinde faction, Mahesh Gaikwad.
Aaditya Thackeray, former state minister and the son of Uddhav Thackeray, said that Maharashtra is earning a bad name due to such incidents.
“Now I have received information that bullets have been fired on Abhishek Ghosalkar… How many days should we bear it? Maharashtra is not only getting defamed by this, people are also feeling scared. The most important thing is that the industry will not come to Maharashtra, such a situation has arisen in the state,” Mr Thackeray said.
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👀 🏤 🏤 https://www.facebook.com/share/BzrDYRd6TRsUsEBM/?mibextid=WC7FNe
i apologize for embroiling you into my family's tragedy.
As soon as i got home, i wrote a letter for my family to take to Atlantis before November 17 (more than a full month before second payment due date. i text, and warned them. i asked MOM also to tell them.
Stating, we don't want MOM's health to improve. MOM, MAXXX had made the decision to just go to hospital (specific hospitals when the pain is too much). No follow up with PCP, maybe, just maybe take prescribed Rx
tea is enough.
YES PEOPLE WHO TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES DO DROP DEAD WHILE SMOKER, COMEDIAN GEORGE BURNS LIVED 100 AND OTHERS TOO!!!
Since 2017 i kept trying to get my sister to join THE CLUB hoping MY MAXXX would ride the 3 miles with her before he had gone blind from diabetes. (before anyone thinks to say it, i acknowledge that that could be my fate too and MUCH WORSE) i became a worse pain in the neck and want them to take care even as a Pharisee i can't do better. i offer to pay several times. i asked, begged, annoyed the company to sell GIFT CARDS during Holidays. NO COMMITTMENT.
once for Mothers' Day i took MOM to the Palm Beach Gardens and she liked both the DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE CHAIR and THE HYDRO BED.
i annoy them so much that MOM tried and used her Humana Silver Sneakers benefit a couple times (when i'd come down from New Jersey to visit she took us to the beach and she's a good swimmer.
When she came from burying LINDA conway DEMOSTHENES January 2021. Looking at my mails, i open one that turned out to be her's (SAME NAME). After almost a year of fighting NOW they finally use her insurance's regularly $150+ toward extra food or OTC etc...
i am always brilliant at looking for trouble. i was inspired and offered $500/each if after 30 (full) days of using the KNEELING PULL UP they don't see a difference (you know where)
Last year in RiverView's DTMC i groaned why wouldn't GOD release MOM to try something like that for back and other pains! i made plans to drive east to take her to Atlantis. Then she fell 3 days before her birthday.
i HATE DRIVING. Just like in Douglas Adams
i am SORRY for involving your AMAZING CLUB & EXCELLENT EMPLOYEE into our quagmire
Marie K Demosthenes
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Sent from my #iPhone 📲
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#youtube#aviation#boeing#beautyangel#bethereforservicemembersandveterans#delivery#avgeek#tiktok#facebook
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GG Magree - Already Dead [Monstercat Official Music Video]
🎧Listen to the track, support on all platforms: https://monster.cat/alreadydead
youtube
✏️ Lyrics I died a little on the inside Every day since you fucked up my life Bought a ticket for a death ride, Even though I knew I'd pay the price
I been numbing the pain, Smoking feelings away Like novocaine, In my mind
All the blood in my veins, Is draining away, I don't care if I'm barely alive Barely alive
Pulse is gone Emotion less My heart, Already stopped beating
Buried deep, Motion less You cut me, But I'm not bleeding
You could, Tie me up Light the match Watch the flames wash over my head
I'm seeing red My heart is black Cause you can't kill what's already dead
Oh wasn’t it romantic, Every time you put ur hands around my neck Bite marks making love notes Every night you made a coffin outta my bed.
I been numbing the pain, Smoking feelings away Like novocaine, In my mind
All the blood in my veins, Is draining away, I don't care if I'm barely alive Barely alive
Pulse is gone Emotion less My heart, Already stopped beating
Buried deep, Motion less You cut me, But I'm not bleeding
You could, Tie me up Light the match Watch the flames wash over my head
I'm seeing red My heart is black Cause you can't kill what's already dead
🎥 Video Credits Cast - Alexandra Shipp Cast - Christian Tasiopoulos Director - Janush Director of Photography - Brendan J Boyle 1st AC - Isaiah Walk Gaffer - Eli Difiore Key Grip - Caleb Harris Stunt Coordinator - Christian Howard Stunt Rigger - Ian Eyre Production Assistant - Tyler Hylland Production Assistant - Landon Tavernier MUA & Hair - Samantha Lepre Producer - Janush Executive Producer - Spaced Visuals
▼ Follow Monstercat https://monster.cat/follow
▼ Follow GG Magree Twitter: https://twitter.com/ggmagree Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/54pgk… Facebook: https://facebook.com/GGMAGREE Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/gg-… Instagram: https://instagram.com/ggmagree YouTube: / @ggmagree TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@ggmagree
Genre: #Rock #Monstercat
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I Love It When You Lie By Kristen Bird
The Williams women don’t just keep secrets… They bury them.
The three Williams girls are as close as sisters can be, and they also share one special trait in common: each of them has a man in her life that she could do without. Tara, the pastor’s wife, has been stealing money from the church and would prefer that her husband stay out of it. Then there’s June, who would do anything to have a baby of her own, even if her husband is dead set against it. Clementine, the youngest, is entangled in an affair with her professor, a man whose behavior she's starting to seriously question. Their sister-in-law Stephanie, an outsider, knows all the family dirt and is watching the three of them—and the men in their lives—closely. When the woman who raised them, their beloved Gran, dies on the eve of her eightieth birthday, the Williams sisters return home to the Appalachian foothills to bury her. But their grandmother won’t be the only one they’ll put in a grave this weekend…because now someone has gone missing in the dark Appalachian woods
And if Gran has taught them anything, it’s how to get rid of a good-for-nothin’ man.
My Review: When I read the blurb I expected a sort of Southern Gothic with dark humour. I got more than I bargained because I got a very entertaining story set if in the South, full of humour and featuring a cast of strong and morally gray women. It's a sort of family story with a mystery part and I thoroughly enjoyed it as the characters are fleshed out and the tightly knitted plot flows. A lot of fun and a gripping story. What's more ? Highly recommended. Many thanks to MIRA for this arc, all opinions are mine
Buy Links: BookShop.org https://bookshop.org/p/books/i-love-it-when-you-lie-a-suspense-novel-kristen-bird/18500272?ean=9780778333432 Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/i-love-it-when-you-lie-kristen-bird/1141722027 Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0778333434 IndieBound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9780778333432
Social Links: Author Website: https://www.kristenbird.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/kbirdwrites Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kristen.bird.writes/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kristenbirdwrites/
The Author: Kristen Bird lives outside of Houston, Texas with her husband and three daughters. She earned her bachelor’s degree in music and mass media before completing a master’s in literature. She teaches high school English and writes with a cup of coffee in hand. In her free time, she likes to visit parks with her three daughters, watch quirky films with her husband and attempt to keep pace with her rescue lab-mixes.
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✩✩✩ AUDIO RELEASE ✩✩✩
Vicious Love
A Dark College Romance | A Wicked Empire Standalone
By Jordan Grant
Narrated by: Lula Larkin, Marcus Rayne
Hosted by DS Book Promotions
AUDIBLE
Also available in eBook or PB | HB
Available on Kindle Unlimited
Blurb:
— Everett —
I loved her when she was just a splattering of freckles and big brown eyes.
When she brought an extra sugar cookie just for me in the first grade.
When our class goldfish died and she held me in front of everyone until I stopped crying.
I loved her even more when she had another man’s baby.
But I hate her for what she did, a chess move in a game of unforgivable sin. I hate myself even more for what I’m going to do to her. I wanted her gone, but I was the one who left. Now, I’ve returned, and I have no intention of leaving again.
This is my campus, and it’s time to pay for your sins, little mouse, because I am a vicious king.
— Molly —
I loved him the first day I met him on the playground, when he was all gangly elbows and knees.
When we buried our toes in the sandbox and pretended we didn’t have legs.
On our first day of middle school when he smiled at me across the quad.
He was my white knight, my protector, the one who always made sure I was okay.
But that boy’s dead and gone, and I killed him.
I can’t undo what happened.
I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to hurt anyone.
I was the nudge that toppled the dominos.
Hold my hand, E, and let’s find our way out of the shadows. Before we are both lost to the dark.
This is a standalone novel but part of the larger Wicked Empire universe, which follows characters introduced in my Voclain Academy series after they leave high school and enter adulthood.
**Note from the author: Vicious Love is a dark enemies-to-lovers, college romance. It features mature themes including an incendiary heat level, bullying, teenage pregnancy, suicide, and, like my other novels, struggles with mental illness. **
Follow Jordan Here:
WEBSITE https://www.authorjordangrant.com/
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#audiorelease #audiobook #viciouslove #standalone #darkcollegeromance #wickedempire #listenonaudio #everett #molly #broken #tragedy #jordangrant #dsbookpromotions
@Jordan Grant @DS Book Promotions
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Gone Have you tried checking dead people's Facebook accounts? Have you stared at their profile pictures? What about scrolling their timelines? Eerie right? But I had. Many times. The latest was last Friday. I looked at his pictures and I should say he did a good job at hiding his miseries. Well, there were some posts with photos and understatements as captions like (his blood-blotched fist) "woke up like this" but most of his posts were normal -- as normal as a person who has no brain tumor. He shared funny videos, music videos, sentimental messages for his father, angry posts about summer friends, and a lot of Bible quotes. Oh, and I also found a post about his hope of going back to Karate paired with a photo of medals hung against a window. His father takes pride of those medals, said he would've made it if-- then, silence. Said he was a good boy-- a sweet boy-- and that he was brave. He joked and laughed and drank and messed around their house with the neighborhood lads. Pissed the sofa because he was just trying to celebrate life even if he was dying. And slept. He said he wanted to be buried beside his mother. The father told me, then offered me some biscuits. Oh yeah, I remembered his mother. I visited her in the hospital too, 12 years ago? I looked at the man beside me. I had not seen him there. To avoid unwarranted thoughts, I stared at the dead's photo. Yes, that's how I remembered him before-- before Facebook, before filters, before tumors-- that's he. Young and proud. The neighborhood's crush. The sk8r boi. My eyes lingered at the name written on the sash. Fernando III. Ideally, they should have erased the extra "I" and it would have made a whole lot of difference.
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Singer Jake Flint found dead hours after his wedding
Singer Jake Flint found dead hours after his wedding
American country singer Jake Flint died in his sleep last weekend, just hours after his wedding ceremony. Posted at 2:15 p.m. “We should be looking at our wedding photos, but I have to choose what clothes I’m going to wear to bury my husband. A human being is not supposed to feel this much pain,” Jake Flint’s widow, Brenda, wrote in a Facebook post on Tuesday. “My heart is gone. » The couple…
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Country Singer Jake Flint Dead Hours After Wedding: Everything We Know
Country Singer Jake Flint Dead Hours After Wedding: Everything We Know
Country singer Jake Flint died at age 37, hours after marrying his wife, Brenda Flint, in Oklahoma on Saturday, November 26. “We should be going through wedding photos but instead I have to pick out clothes to bury my husband in,” Brenda wrote in a heartbreaking post via Facebook on Tuesday, November 29. “People aren’t meant to feel this much pain. My heart is gone and I just really need him to…
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First off, he was pretty clear that this wasn’t the only ask he’s gotten. This is just the only one he’s published. As a person who’s been on the receiving end of internet harassment, I can comfortably say that he’s gotten a lot worse and probably a lot more often. In my case, I dare to exist while pagan. Internet Christians don’t like that.
Why should he get support when I don’t? If I’m whining about people with careers calling me a chimp and people telling me to choke, then he’s whining about threats from anonymous users.
Right, because obscure internet drama from mostly dead forums compares with a rising wave of hate and actual real, breathing people being murdered because they are LGBTQ+. Not blocked. Murdered. Had their lives taken from them because they dared to exist in a way that some bigot didn’t like. I think that’s a bit more severe than being told that you’re being a fucking idiot and refusing to understand what several people have tried to explain to you.
Is he a dick about it? Yeah. I know a lot of LGBTQ+ people in real life who are fed up and tired of being told to grin and bear it when people are awful to them. I’m loosely quoting something I saw here, but all the nice LGBTQ+ people are dead because the bigots killed them. Sorry, but you ran into someone with a thin well of patience because all of it was exhausted years ago. You can thank bigots for that.
Honestly, seeing what I’ve seen about you (stealing art is a dick move, by the way), I can understand why people get pissed off. If your fandom is causing you so much pain, leave. It’s not healthy for you.
Unlike a threat which is made then over with, there is an active negative action towards me. Remember, even restraining orders against demonstrably dangerous individuals generally expire. If you make someone disappear forever, it’s functionally the same as killing them.
LOL no it’s not. If someone is dead, their life is completely over. They’re in the ground. Buried. Any potential they might have had turns into worm food along with the rest of them. But if you get blocked? Remake your blog, change your username, follow other people, branch out your interests. You still have potential. You can change, explore new things, do whatever.
If someone is dead, though? They’re in the ground, feeding the worms, and gone. They don’t come back. You can pop over to Instagram, Threads, FaceBook, Twitter, or whatever and begin anew. Joe McCorpse in Potter’s Field is worm food and nothing else.
You don’t know if he’s been doxxed. I’ve glanced at his blog and socials - he’s really fucking careful. I don’t see pet pictures. No selfies. Nothing. Maybe this is a safety thing because he has people who literally want to kill him. Going from that threat, I would say that there is a very real, very active negative action against him.
You’re just too privileged to see it.
Also, making fun of people is harassment and bullying, and if you can’t see where the idea of hoping people perish or ever enjoying someone else’s suffering because you find it “comical” is bad, then you’re no better than the person who sent anon hate. Issuing threats is wrong because threats of violence are wrong for anyone, no matter their status. Wanting people raped, murdered, or just gone is wrong.
LOL glad you understand why the threat was wrong. It’s a pity why you don’t understand why someone would be snarky.
Look. The fact that he didn’t bow down and kiss your ass doesn’t make him abusive. I also don’t think that he hopes you’re dead. I’ve searched your name on his blog. He seems to think you’re reading his posts and hopes you enjoy the random bullshit. Is he pissy? Yeah. Does he do the typical author thing where he talks about writing people into his books? Also, yeah.
Congratulations, the author acts like an author. News at 11.
So again, why do you want a woman of color to have less rights than anyone else? What’s wrong with treating everyone the same way?
Why do you want a gay Native American to put up with homophobic harassment?
See, I can just ask questions, too.
Do you want some cheese with your whine? If you can't understand why a gay person would be upset at you for not understanding why he blocks people who want him to be raped and murdered, I don't know what to say to you.
What a way to twist the situation.
I can't understand why you deem it okay for someone to actively send me messages then claiming I'm demanding attention from them by asking not to be blocked. You reference a singular threat as a sufficient reason to endorse blocking, but it's "whining" for me to take issue about being threatened, forcibly separated, lied about, having opportunities denied, and even having my very content taken down. Why are my words a "whine" but his not? Why should he get support when I don't? If I'm whining about people with careers calling me a chimp and people telling me to choke, then he's whining about threats from anonymous users. If the threats against him are taken seriously, then so should the abuse I've suffered, and a lot of it has been less than 20 years ago - it has just gone on that long.
Plus, if people are permitted to block me for 10 or 20 years, then it's not something that happened years ago, because the block is still active and happening. Unlike a threat which is made then over with, there is an active negative action towards me. Remember, even restraining orders against demonstrably dangerous individuals generally expire. If you make someone disappear forever, it's functionally the same as killing them.
Also, making fun of people is harassment and bullying, and if you can't see where the idea of hoping people perish or ever enjoying someone else's suffering because you find it "comical" is bad, then you're no better than the person who sent anon hate. Issuing threats is wrong because threats of violence are wrong for anyone, no matter their status. Wanting people raped, murdered, or just gone is wrong.
There are people who want me dead and if I open up my anon box, they will come back. When I block the people who agree with the people who want me dead, then instead of "curating my audience" as they claim I have the right to do and being happy they convinced me of their position that it is necessary to block for for my safety, they say it's wrong of me to block but right of them to block. So again, why do you want a woman of color to have less rights than anyone else? What's wrong with treating everyone the same way?
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i might be like a soft touch or whining a lot for the next couple weeks cause the end of the year really rawdogs my ass so just look the other way if im embarrassing ok
#seasonal depression is like baseline#but tomorrows my grandmas death anniversary#then thanks giving my birthday and christmas where i just miss having a family so much#capped w my grandfathers death anniversary new years morning#so its just like 2 months of feeling like absolute shit bc the rest of my family has made it expressly obvious they want nothing to do w me#and that my only opportunity to have yknow. parents. and a familial unit. and a fallback. yknow a cushion? or net or whatever#like thats done with and theyre dead and gone and i still feel responsible bc i was their caregiver anyway#it all just feels bad man. idk.#my family had another funeral where theyre buried and i was invited so i could visit them#but no one told me when exactly it was and i found out later my mom ditched me on purpose and then had a party at her house#a two minute walk from where i was staying. with family members i havent seen in 5+ years.#and no one even told me i got to see pictures of it on facebook later like its so. they just dont. want me.#and it feels so BAD dude#my family died and all of our stuff got thrown away and our house got sold and theres nothing to go back to and no one to talk to#ggggg#im just really in my feelings about it. tomorrow is like the start of the emotional gauntlet#and im just not ready#i miss them both so much 😭
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Did somebody ask for Nick Amaro punching Elliot Stabler in the face?
It's nice to be back in New York. He wishes it was under different circumstances - Christ does he wish - but he missed the city. LA isn't the same. Zara's there, and Gil's in San Diego, and they have both grown so much in the last five years and he wouldn't have missed that for anything, but he does wish, sometimes, that they could have stayed at home. In New York.
He's come to bury his mother and clean out her apartment. Before that gets started, though, he's got some faces he wants to see. He doesn't know for sure if they'll still be there, doesn't know what he'll find, but he knows he has to look, and in his heart he believes that as long as Liv is still alive and in possession of two good legs, she'll be at SVU. That place, it's more than just a job, to her. It's a calling. She's a goddamn crusader.
For a minute he stands looking up at the station, weighing whether or not he wants to go in. Whether or not he wants to know what's happened to Barba, and Carisi, and Fin, and Rollins. Shit. Rollins. No way is she still there, he thinks.
He could have called. Should have called. Friends for life, he and Liv had promised each other, and they are, and they will be, but not the kind of friends who call each other and gab on the phone on Saturday afternoons. The kind of friends who'll take a bullet for each other, who'll drop everything and fly to the other side of the country after five years of no contact, if that's what they need. But not Facebook friends. It's just not in their DNA. They're bound by blood now; they don't need a phone call.
So he takes a deep breath and walks into the station, gets on the elevator behind some asshole in a flashy suit like the kind Barba used to wear, and the guy is talking on his phone but he's pressed the button for SVU so Nick can't escape him, just has to stand there and listen.
"I'm not asking, I'm telling," the guy says. "why? 'Cause I'm your father, that's why."
The guy's tone and the words coming out of his mouth remind Nick forcefully of his own father, and that makes him hate this man he doesn't even know. The door slides open and Nick goes to step out but the guy must not have registered he's there; the guy almost steps on him on his way out of the elevator and doesn't even apologize, just hangs up his phone and goes heading towards SVU and Nick is once again following him. His knee never healed right and Nick isn't as quick as he used to be, and the guy gets further and further ahead of him.
"She here?" The guy calls to a young female detective sitting at one of the desks. The squad room looks completely different, now, and for a second Nick feels like all the breath has just been knocked out of him. The girl says yeah, go on back, and the suit heads for Liv's office. Must be the ADA, Nick thinks. And shit, this is weird. It's like walking into his childhood home and seeing another family living there. It's like finding out there's no such thing as home, really. Like whatever home is, one day you stop belonging there.
"Help you?" The girl calls to him.
"Yeah," he says. It's too late to pretend he's not here. There's no sign of Rollins, or Fin, or Liv, but he's gonna do what he came here to do.
"Is Benson around?"
The girl gives him an appraising look.
"Who's asking?"
Before he can answer, a voice is calling out behind him.
"Nick?"
He turns, and there she is. Amanda Rollins. Still blonde, still beautiful, and shit, Carisi is standing right beside her.
"Amanda," he says, and in the next second she's running at him, flinging her arms around him. They hit so hard he could have picked her clean up and spun her around, if it weren't for his bad knee. As it is he nearly goes flying, but he catches himself, and holds on to her tight. He's missed her, more than he wants to admit.
"Oh, my God," she says as she pulls back. "It's so good to see you. You look good."
"Yeah," he says. "So do you."
And she does, and he wishes that didn't hurt.
"Carisi," he says next, and holds his hand out for a shake. Carisi’s hair has gone grey, and his suit is too flash for a cop, but he’s still Carisi, and he bats Nick’s hand away, and pulls him in for a hug.
“If we’d known you were coming we’d have gotten a cake or something,” Carisi says as they part.
“I wasn’t sure you guys would even still be here,” Nick tells them. “Kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Is Liv around?”
As if in answer to his question the door to the Captain’s office opens behind them, and she comes walking out, with the suit hot on her heels.
She stops dead in her tracks when she sees him, and shit, he just about stops breathing. That woman; she’s like a sister to him. Better than a sister; he trusts her more than his own blood. A thousand memories flash through his mind. The angry Liv he’d first met, calling him Serpico and looking at him like she was certain he wouldn’t last a week. Remember when you asked me about my father, and I told you it was a long story? It’s not that long. Standing beside her on the porch at the beach house, her clothes ripped and burned, her body bruised, her eyes wild. Liv’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Lewis’s blood sprayed across her face. Liv’s hands on him, while the EMTs wheeled him away after Johnny D shot him. Friends for life, Nick Amaro.
Her hair is longer, and her face is more lined, but she’s still so goddamn gorgeous. She covers her heart with her hand, and he grins, and they both start to move, then, not running, but walking straight towards each other, determined, no one else in the world but them, in that moment, and the next thing he knows he’s got his arms wrapped around her, and she’s holding him so tight it almost hurts.
“Nick,” she whispers his name shakily, and he laughs, because he can tell she’s about to cry and shit he is, too.
“Good to see ya, Liv,” he manages to choke out, and when he pulls back she reaches up and touches his face, her dark eyes searching his. She doesn’t have to say it; he knows she’s wondering if he’s ok, and he hopes she finds the answer in his face. Truth is, he’s doing better now than he was five years ago. Better than ten years ago. He’s settled. He’s happy. He hopes she is, too.
“You gonna introduce me to your friend?”
This from the suit. The sound of his voice shatters the moment, and Liv pulls away, and Nick is thinking he really, really hates this guy. This guy with his easy arrogance, this guy whose voice, whose posture, whose belligerent expression reveals a possessiveness towards Liv that Nick doesn’t like, not one bit. Liv laughs and steps back from him but Nick keeps his hand resting at the small of her back. There’s a petulant part of his heart that wants this guy, whoever he is, to see Nick touching her. To know that he’s allowed to, that she’ll let him, that whatever problem the suit may have Liv cares about Nick.
“Yeah,” Liv says, and a little bit of Nick’s anger fades, because she sounds happy.
“This is Nick Amaro, my old partner.” He can hear the grin in her voice. “Nick, this is Elliot Stabler.”
It’s not something he can control. It comes over him so suddenly, so viciously; he always thought that when people talking about seeing red they were just exaggerating. He always thought people had more control over themselves than that. But Liv says that name, and damn if he doesn’t see red.
“Elliot Stabler?” he says.
“Yeah,” Stabler answers, taking a step forward, and maybe he’s about to ask Nick if he’s got a problem with that, but he never gets the chance.
Stabler. The one who left her. The one who was the reason she was so standoffish, with Nick. The reason she was so angry all the damn time, walking around nursing a broken heart and letting it get her into trouble. The one with the anger issues and the dinged up service record that nearly derailed her whole career. The one with the wife at home, while Liv was half in love with him - Nick isn’t supposed to know that part, but he does. And anybody who could do that to Liv, who could hurt her so bad, treat her like she was second class, disposable, anybody who could stand there and act like he had a right to be by her side after all the shit he put her through, anybody like that, they’re gonna get what’s coming to them, courtesy of Nick Amaro. It’s been ten years since Stabler walked out on her, but however he came back, whatever the reason is for him standing here right now, Nick doesn’t give a single shit. He knows Liv and he knows she would never tell this guy just how bad he hurt her, just how much she lost when he left, knows she’s got a good heart and she’ll forgive the people she loves. She won’t hold this asshole accountable.
Nick, on the other hand, has no qualms about it.
“Ok,” Nick says, and then before anyone can so much as take a breath, he hauls off and punches that smug son of a bitch right in the mouth, as hard as he can. And shit, but it feels good.
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