#i apologize for my old cringe self mistakes..
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lunarthefrieschild · 2 years ago
Note
Ur annoying af and idc what ppl has to say. I saw you and I was "wow she so nice" only to realize you was nothing but a fake. I go to my favorite fandom to see my favorite artist and you send hate to them in the comments,like seriously you could just say it nicely. And then you be like "sorry if I sounded rude or anything</3". You're not even trying to not sounds rude. You straight up fake . You also act like meowbah. Just stop that nice girl energy. Just be your rude-ass self. Your grammar are also so bad like seriously. Accept this or leave it.
I apologize about my stupidity I promise I won't make the same mistakes again.. -
I hope you can forgave my old mistakes..
I don't know how to delete reply in Tumblr so when I saw my cringe self posting that I am deeply understand why you annoyed by it because I would too!
I'm still deeply apologize..i understand but this is deeply hurt me and I also deserve this still thank you for giving me some advice how to be nicer I tried to repaired what my old mistakes did..
4 notes · View notes
viilpstick · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
╰┈➤ 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡: Who told to sing for someone as a way to confess how they feel for you? No, scratch that, better question… Who gave them permission to play guitar?
𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Kamlin Al-Asim, Ace Trappola x GN! Reader (separately)
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Fluff, crack, kinda cringe, headcanons + small scenarios :) (if you squeeze your eyes, there is a tiny agnst in epel’s part)
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Bad english, Reader is not necessarily yuu!! A bit OOC, Barbie spoilers (? I think, it was just inspired by one scene of it), use of the word "Prince/Princess" in Kamlin's part.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this btch is the reason why I am doing this scenario 😭😭
Blame Ashton. Literally.
Alright, but seriously, he thought it was a good idea. Ashton did NOT had bad intentions on putting on this situations.
And, that man is old/j
He probably did this in his early teen years and it worked
Plus, Epel trusted him more than Vil’s advice when it comes to you (for some obvious reasons)
So, when he sees you uncomfortable face as he tries to make you think is his the most masculine man ever, he heart aches a bit, like?
“What? How… I thought they would like me in masculine way— Did I do something wrong? It can’t be, I hate to think Vil was right… They hate me, now?”
He’s overthinking! Apologize. 😡
You like Epel, but, man… Is he /srs or /j?
You’ll have to sit down and explain why you actually were uncomfortable; he’s forcing himself so much to be what he wants, that he forgets he could just be his normal self, not the ultra mega macho man, but not also Rarity from my little pony. Just… Him.
Because that’s what you like
It was the best idea Ashton had. Literally he’s so grateful he ran to him, instead of Vil. Who would make him look like a pretty princess awhile you would look like a Prince Charming. It was all set up, nothing could or should go wrong.
Taking a deep breath at the point he could feel the air whirling through his lungs, he took the guitar, a nervous smile was now forming as the confident façade was starting to fall down from his grip. It can’t happen, it just can’t. You are now here standing looking at him with a confused look waiting for his move, Epel needs to prove himself worthy.
When he starts, you cringed… Just so badly. You really like Epel, and think it’s sweet of him, but is he really just singing you “Push” by Matchbox Twenty? Thankfully, you were able to put up with it. At least the forty seconds of it, when you actually started to sweat cold. You started to check the time more than once, give a uncomfortable smile, looking around anywhere but his eyes, and it was when his fingers slip through the chords that he noticed; your uncomfortable expression.
And it may seem something he wouldn’t mind… If it was anyone else, but this is you we are talking about. He’s been crushing on you for so long. He stops playing putting down. Muttering a “Forget it,” than a “sorry”. It was when, you realized. Your mistake!
Sure, the moment was terrible. It was cringe and painful to watch. You take a deep breath and analyze, why you didn’t like that moment. Was it because of him? Definitely no. Was it because of the song? Maybe?
It took you a moment, when you realized. He wasn’t doing it for you nor him. But for his desperation for self proven of showing how strong and cool he is, Epel hates being mistaken by someone cute and pretty. He wants to be like those masculine man, those who have muscles and bodies are big.
A sigh leave your lips, as you take him by the cheek placing a sweet kiss, that trails to his mouth making him speechless. He completely looses composure as he watches you with the awe struck eyes, making you chuckle.
“I appreciate the gesture, but, next time… Put more a detail of yourself as a whole. Not just that part who wants to be something else.” A smile was placed on your face. As you reassure, behind the small letters, and choices of words, you like him for him. And honestly, that’s what matters. Maybe, the use of “just be yourself”, makes sense.”
Tumblr media
You see that pink haired mf?
That’s the reason of why are you staring at Sebek on the couch trying to get the chord right.
For the fifty time.
You and Sebek were already dating for awhile, but usually you were the one to plan dates and take him out away from Malleus.
That’s when Lilia comes up, and says he should be more romantic with his loved one.
So, why not… Learn to play guitar, learn Matchbox Twenty lyrics of Push, take you out to hang out on Diasomnia and listen you play to him?
Good idea old man! ☝️🤓
Everytime someone passes through the Diasomnia lounge and your boyfriend is playing the lyrics (or… Trying to), you start to panic in embarrassment.
Not 100% of Sebek, you really think it’s sweet his gesture. He did put a lot of effort on memorizing a song for you and etc… But why, this song? Why??? 😭
“Sebek— I think it’s really sweet… But, it’s getting late and we don’t want you to get noise complaints—“ You try to make Sebek stop of singing and playing. But his stubbornness, was speaking WAY louder.
Sitting there quietly you waited for him get the right chord. As he gives a frustrated expression. Cursing under his breath every time he got it wrong, he even watched a video showing his to play the chord.
“Why it’s gotta to be so difficult?!” He loudly says closing his phone and putting away the guitar. Crossing his arms, refusing to look at your face. Like an angry child.
“Oh, you were doing great.” You encourage, but a small part was hoping for him to not believe at you, so he would stop playing the repetitive song that would clearly play in your brain for the next twenty four hours.
“I just don’t get it! Lilia says it’s better for me start to planning things for our time alone. And then, Grim says people love music so why aren’t you liking this?” He confesses the true reason of why he is been getting the same chord wrong, over and over again. He knew what he was doing (and probably for the first he was too shy to ask you in fear of your answer).
You simply chuckle. True, you may or may not exactly be liking the choice of song, since it didn’t matched you nor him. But, were you in any way uncomfortable with him? Never. You take his hand and warmth feeling rushes through his body looking to him on the eyes.
“Sebek, I think what Lilia meant is a date where we can hang out and you are away from Diasomnia. Grim, on the other hand, was probably thinking of slowly dancing.”
“Oh.”
As you explain you notice the realization hitting him. Good. Because, now you both look at the guitar and laugh together. It felt good that moment where only you two matter.
“But, thank you. I never had someone playing Push for me in my life.” You chuckle once again, leaning to give a peck on his lips. “And, if you want, we can plan the next date—“
“YOUNG MASTER!!” Sebek soon leaves you for Malleus who was walking by, to assist him any way.
You simply shrugs, but when you noticed his red cheeks… His reaction was purely a way to cover his shy self. You smile at the situation, taking the guitar to give you a look.
“You hold evil powers.”
Tumblr media
No, because he did it in a Allan energy with Alladin intentions kinda of way, yk? 😰😰
It was actually sweet seeing him getting ready when…
“Kamlim, why are you playing Push?” “Isn’t that what people like?” “No?” “Oh…” There was a silence between you both as he takes a deep breath and: “I can show you the world—”
It wasn’t supposed to be in a Ken way, but when he asked for advice it was for Ace. Since, you both were close.
And instead of Ace ACTUALLY ask you for an idea, he comes up with the most random song for Kamlin to play for you
“Should we blame Kamlin?” “Or blame guitars players?” “Or should we blame Matchbox Twenty?”
No! Blame Ace! 😡
I think, Ace did not had bad intentions but he at the same time he had... I don't know
Either way, he just shrugs laugh and play another song.
Like, another day, another slay, period.
At the end was just him being innocent and not following his heart when he was going to choose a song to sing for you
Don't worry, he sings "A whole new world" for you
"A new fantastic point of view, no one to tell us no--" "--From where do you know this song?" "I don't know-- It just came to my mind." "Cool." "A whole new world!"
You both sat in his room, him on his bed and you on the floor on the blue and red carpet, you could only look at him in a endearing way, when he told you he wanted to play you a song, obviously you couldn't say no.
He sings so well, is the small touch of calmness and sweetness of his tone that could melt you in seconds. But, when he plays the first few chords your face fell into a confused one... Why the fuck. Was Kamlin. Playing Push??? It's a great song, really but, him singing it for you is just so, out of character of his "sunshine persona".
You give an awkward smile and nod trying to actually not laugh, man, his voice was beautiful. But, why Push? Who gave him that idea? His eyes were caught on you and though he takes time to understand your feelings usually, he knows something is wrong. Like, instantly he stops his tracks to calculate, were you not liking the song? Him singing? Did he got any chord incorrectly and you noticed?
"Prince/Princess? Are you okay? You didn't like it?" He looks at you with his doe eyes, but there was a worried smile after all the last thing he wants is see you not enjoying his actions, specially when is him for you.
You chuckle and smile, shaking your head. "Why are you playing Push by Matchbox twenty?" You raise your eyebrow completely confused with a signature upside down smile.
"Ace told me you would like it." He says now getting confused, you cursed under your breath. "You don't?"
"Well, I do like the song and you... But, I never thought you would play something like that, you know?" Holding your breath, you chuckle with the consuming confuse aura taking over you both.
He looks at you before smiling and laughing, as he takes to think of the situation, it was indeed not like him.
He pats the bed for you to get off the carpet, you smile sitting "Well, makes sense. So, would permit for me to sing a more... Characteristic song for you?" You raised your eyebrow yet, didn't denied, he starts play a familiar yet unfamiliar tone. Like, you have heard it before, but at the same time it was something completely new. Softly smiling upside down to him, your hand went to your legs as you heard him play.
"I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid!"
Tumblr media
Did for the meme, I think...
Honestly, Deuce and Grim were watching you both from afar with popcorn
(I hope you are ready to have lots of memes of you face trying to NOT laugh)
Kinda cringe to see him thinking he's nailing it 😭
Girlie thought he slays 💅
He tried???
We can’t defend him, it was his idea and he thought it was a good one 😞😞
Honestly, you felt like doing those “don’t laugh challenge” but when you do…
At first he pouts as he stops playing, but man is so head over heels he can’t stay mad at you, honestly
He laughs a long with you, maybe he noticed how cringe it was, maybe not, but he never felt that good
You and Ace aren't exactly together, this is your second date, there was no kiss in the first date, and you hoped for this one you would be able to press your lips against his. And from all of things, he could've planned... All the things he could planned. Him singing to you Push by Matchbox twenty? Was out of your predictions to these year on your list.
From afar you saw Deuce and Grim laughing at the situation as you sat with a desperate look on trying to contain any laughter to come out of your lips.
It pains you, it was such a cute act. But, then it's Ace and he's trying to impress. Aside that, he does play really good. Now, does he sing well? Sevens, no.
Your lips trembles, holding you breath to calm yourself down. Your smile was there but each time he looks away it turns into an upside down smile. You were sweating cold, man.
Plus, the song seemed to never end! Like, you are struggling! And Deuce and Grim laughing behind you both, trust me. It. Didn't helped your situation.
"Well, I won't do anything at ahLL-" He sighs in dissapoint when he get that note wrong... "Shit. Ha... Sorry."
He says. But, how were you... When he got a note out of tune, it was the last drop. The small slip in a normal situation would be unnoticeable, but this was a try not to laugh at Ace, level impossible. When that one note was played wrong. You couldn't contain any longer. As you almost fell behind laughing holding your tummy.
Ace looks at you with a pout, why were you laughing? He made a mistake it was not funny! Deuce and Grim on the back were now laughing even harder, if that was somehow possible? Deuce even chocked on air.
For a moment, poking fun at others was no longer entertainment. But, you couldn't stop, it was really impossible at the moment. He looks at you laughing with a small tear at the corner of your eye, the surroundings seemed to freeze. You really look beautiful, honestly, it didn't matter if your laugh was scandalous or in mute, if you putted your hand before your mouth or opened your mouth fully. He was just, like, completely at your mercy, by your mere existence.
"Sorry, Ace. It was Deuce and Grim's fault, I swear--" Your apologise fell into his deaf ears as you slowly calmed down. But, you wouldn't be able to process it correctly anything else, after he puts his hand under your chin pulling you closer to his lips, his breath tickled your upper lip as he pulls you into an endearing kiss. It took seconds for him pull away, leaving you with a blank expression awhile inside of you there were not even butterflies, just exploding fireworks in your stomach.
His laugh was what brought you back to where you were, to reality, closer to him.
"Heh... It really wasn't what we expected or first kiss to be. Don't worry in another life, I won't sing Push for you."
Tumblr media
(A/N: When I was watching Barbie, Epel was all I could think about in that scene 😭)
DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST IN OTHER MEDIA MY WORK viilpstick © copyright 2023
80 notes · View notes
arielmagicesi · 6 months ago
Text
Why am I leaving Tumblr?
OK, I'm done with all the stuff I was planning to do on here, and I said I would make a longer post explaining why I'm leaving. I don't owe anyone an explanation but I figured I would give a brief one (it turned out not so brief though).
I'm putting it under a read-more and giving the trigger warning now that I'm discussing bullying, suicide, self-harm, descriptions of mass violence, war, and various forms of bigotry.
It's very long. If your thought is "hell no I'm not reading all that shit" then you have one of two options: you can put me out of your mind and accept that you will never fully understand me and as such cannot really make judgments on who I am, or you can go apologize to your English teachers for being unable to read. (Or you can simply not read it but just, like, don't be a dick about what you assume I may have written.)
Tumblr is not good for my mental health. No social media is. I left Twitter years ago, and then Instagram, and then Tumblr. The only social media I really use is that I watch YouTube and I check Facebook for my handful of IRL friends and family on there.
I'm a member of the LGBT+ community and I have generally leftist politics. This means I was involved in the LGBT and leftist online communities on social media websites. They were probably the worst possible thing for my development as a lesbian and as an actually effective force for progressive change, and as a person with what is likely OCD, and who survived bullying (which, yes, is a serious issue and traumatic, fuck off). This website, combined with my own issues, and the community at Sarah Lawrence College, is what led me down a very dark path in college with trying to "prove I was a real lesbian and not a cringe freak who deserved bullying". The same for "trying to atone for my toxic, evil, problematic existence as a privileged person". Instead of embracing the beautiful complexities of queer identity and life, I made a new version of the closet to torture myself within. Instead of working to help my community with positive change, I stayed inside self-harming and planning suicide and refusing to seek help because I didn't deserve it because I was inherently marked with evil as a sinful member of the bourgeoisie, etc. etc.
I already, as a result of so many things, have issues where I am terrified to make mistakes, terrified to be seen as annoying or "bad". The culture on social media has made me so much more terrified to make any mistake, because mistakes = proof of Intentional Evil and apologies are just fake attempts to win back brownie points that I don't deserve. This attitude has hindered my recovery process so much. I think of it as like Statler and Waldorf, the hecklers from the Muppet Show, only instead of two old guys, it's two college students that I call Sarah and Lawrence (after my delightful fucking alma mater) who tell me that I should be first in line to the guillotine because I'm a teacher and teachers are "child cops" (I once read a post on here saying that "in a world with any real justice, teachers would be shot and dumped in mass graves", and I'd love to say that that was just one crazy outlier of a post) or that my food sensitivities are proof that I'm a toxic privileged demon because some people can't afford food so I should just die or whatever. Being on this website feeds Sarah and Lawrence with a thousand new hot takes they can use to torture me. And you know what, I don't deserve that. And if you think I deserve that, then you're wrong, and I don't care.
I do not like the form of leftism on this website. If this is what real leftism looks like- romanticizing gulags and guillotines, trying to figure out who the "Bad People" are and then sending them to those gulags and guillotines, carceral logic, cult-like communities- then feel free to call me a pathetic, spineless, centric, milquetoast liberal. My form of social justice looks like getting up every morning, driving to my job at a public high school, and teaching literacy and critical thinking to teenagers who need it. And when I come home, I rest and work on myself so I can learn more about the world I live in (about which I know woefully little, since I spent years educating myself on goddamn tumblr.edu instead of out of books and reputable news sources), and gain the energy to make my school community and larger community a safer, more inclusive place for everyone. If that's too fucking liberal for you, then I'll see you at the guillotine when the revolution comes and you're chopping my head off. Until then, leave me the fuck alone.
Now let's get to the actual part that may alienate me even from my friends. I hope this isn't the end of our friendships, and I hope you have the patience to read all of this before deciding to cut me off, and if you do decide to cut me off, I wish you all the best.
I am a Jew. Both my parents are Jewish. My mother is an Ashkenazi Jew whose parents narrowly escaped the Holocaust in Poland. My father is an Iranian Jew whose family had to escape Iran when he was eight because of the Revolution. Both sides of my family had been in those countries for as many centuries back as it is possible to trace. They were forced to escape or die. My maternal grandparents were both babies during the Holocaust, and their families took them to Russia. My maternal grandfather was shipped to a displaced persons camp and his family had no choice where they were taken. My maternal grandmother's family went back to Poland after the war, where they were treated so horrifically, due to being Jewish, that they chose to leave. My father's family, on the other hand, had been relatively prosperous in Iran (notwithstanding every couple of decades when a new regime would force them to go underground with their Judaism or be killed), but realized that the revolutionary government would likely mean death for them.
My maternal grandmother's family, my maternal grandfather's family, and my father's family all fled their countries of origin and went to the recently formed state of Israel. My mother and father grew up there. They met there, married, and moved to the United States, where I was born. They raised us as Jews. Many of my relatives on both sides, however, stayed in Israel and still live there.
As an adult, I do not think I am anywhere close to an expert on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but I have studied it a bit (I recommend Rashid Khalidi's The Hundred Years War on Palestine especially, and the work of Benny Morris). I certainly think I have more knowledge about it, based on what I've seen, than 95% of the fucking assholes on here posting about it. I'm not an expert on public policy or war, but my general opinion is that Israel was formed using settler-colonial tactics (which, to be clear, is bad), that the Palestinian refugee crisis never should have happened and that in a just world it would end and Palestinians would have right of return and right to safe and equal citizenship in their homeland, and that the current government of Israel is, I don't like saying the word evil (because I'm not a child watching a superhero cartoon) but they should be taken down, and their actions in Gaza are despicable.
HOWEVER. I do not think that every citizen of Israel is responsible for the crimes of its government. (Kind of like America is a settler colony but I don't think every single American citizen should be killed?) I do NOT fucking think that Israeli civilians deserve to be killed, bombed, tortured, or raped, because I do not think that any human deserves that, even "evil" ones, even if those actions are "resistance". I do not think that Jews in the diaspora deserve to be considered suspicious, to be interrogated for potential Zionism lurking beneath our skin, to be cast aside as problematic if we so much as suggest that we are frightened of antisemitism, to be told to shut up and suck it up if our synagogues and cultural centers are vandalized, threatened, shot up, because we deserve it for sharing heritage with Benjamin Netanyahu, and anyway it's sending a message and that's what revolution looks like, so maybe stop whining. That we need to stop whining about the Holocaust and that if any of us supports Israel or Zionism (which apparently means not wanting our family- our relatives who escaped MENA countries that no longer allow their Jewish citizens to live- to die horribly- apparently not cheering for the painful deaths of my family makes me a Zionist?), then maybe we deserve another Holocaust, and Hitler was right. That idk maybe there's something suspicious about the fact that Jews keep getting kicked out of countries, like maybe there's just something inherently vermin-like about us like idk if *I* kept getting oppressed I'd wonder if something was wrong with me, but idk I'm just a leftist who supports revolution and punch Nazis or whatever... That "NO ONE IS EVEN SAYING THAT, STOP WHINING" even though I have seen every one of those posts on this website, from nearly everyone I follow. (And the people who harassed my sister, who has been less frightened than I am over the past 7 months to admit she's Jewish on social media, and was told some truly vile personal things). (Oh, and the ten-year-old children I used to teach in Hebrew school, who got told "Hitler was right" on their TikTok accounts and got swastikas painted in their middle school in liberal New Jersey).
I am not just angry and frightened as a Jew, but as a teacher. Even those who don't spout antisemitism have not seemed to bother to educate themselves about the conflict before running to hit the reblog button because the post said that posting is the most important thing you can do, and I see y'all who don't reblog and that's really suspicious and if you don't reblog you must support genocide. If you studied the history of this conflict for five fucking seconds, you would not be saying shit like "We stand with Hamas", at least not if you give a shit about Palestinian rights. I was gonna write up a whole explanation of that but to be honest, while I hate the old Tumblr axiom "it's not my job to educate you! Google is free!" I honestly do stand by it in this case- I'm not gonna word these explanations well. I'll point you instead to the two authors I recommended above- Rashid Khalidi and Benny Morris. Khalidi is a Palestinian scholar and Morris is one of the Israeli "New Historians" who believes in telling the truth, not Israeli propaganda. I, on the other hand, am just some idiot who cares about things like Palestinian lives, Palestinian autonomy, Jewish lives, Jewish autonomy, Arab independence, fighting antisemitism, fighting Islamophobia, education, and the stupidest thing of all, according to this god-awful website: peace. So don't listen to me. But don't just listen to whatever Internet user is angriest.
And stop advocating for mass deaths and tortures. And stop just hitting the reblog button because you're being guilted into it. I am not saying that posting CAN'T be helpful. In my week of being back on this website briefly, I've seen people sharing verified links to sources to donate to Gazans in need, or support for solidarity movements between Israelis and Palestinians.* That's a great example of posting being helpful. And despite my personal distaste for political discussion on social media, I know there are people capable of doing it well- sharing news thoughtfully, discussing the best methods of dealing with it, etc. But seeing my own people being tossed into the fucking machine of "There's A Certain Heritage That Are All Either Oppressors Or On Thin Ice, and We Need To Guillotine Them, Or Else We're Oppressors Too And Should Die" has shown me even more clearly than before that something is deeply wrong about the way we approach social justice on social media.
(*yes, solidarity between Israelis and Palestinians. Israelis are not a monolithic oppressor block, and Palestinians are not required to lie down and just take their oppression until Americans save them with posting. They are all human beings and are allowed to work together to stop what I think is the true problem, the governments treating their lives as pawns.)
I don't know enough about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. (Or quite honestly, a lot of the real-world issues I used to "just reblog" about). Chances are, neither do you. But I at least know that I will never give in to hatred and prejudice and thirst for violence. I will never sit back and be fine with the acts of the Israeli government and military simply because they share my heritage, and even with the terrible burden of knowing with more and more clarity every day how viciously the world, even my friends and allies, view my people. That will never excuse what Israel is doing, and I know that I disagree with many of my fellow Jews on this point. But I will also not be bullied into giving up my values- kindness, equality, peace, love for humanity- by somebody telling me that if I value nonviolence, if I don't believe in the dichotomy of "enemy race vs. good race", I must be a secret Zionist/neoliberal/etc, and thus an oppressor. I know who I really am and I know what my values are. If you don't like that, and we used to be friends, please do me the justice of at least letting me know before blocking me or whatnot.
I'm sorry this post was so long. I tend to ramble. I plan to log off. If you would like to contact me about this post, I suggest you don't unless we were already mutuals/friends and I gave you my contact anyway. If you aren't my mutual/friend but you truly must tell me something, I've created a blog called arielmagicesi.blogspot.com and there's one post on there and you can comment there.
FINAL THING:
Most of this post is me appealing as a leftist, a Jew, a human being. I'd like to appeal as a friend. I have been terrified, like constant-nightmares-and-panic-attacks-for-months terrified, of my friends turning on me if they found out all of this. I'm pretty sure there's at least one or two old friends of mine who, because they know that my parents grew up in Israel and I haven't disowned my parents, probably no longer want to be friends, and maybe even think of me as an enemy. If you do want to stop being friends with me because of this, please be direct. If you don't, just keep it in mind- not in a "develop an anxiety complex about Ariel's hurt feelings" way but in a "be careful how you talk about Jews on social media, if possible" way.
7 notes · View notes
remremsies · 7 months ago
Text
Gang I’ve been gone for a while again I’m so sorry😔
I decided to come back and show y’all my OC who I’ll use while playing Our life now&forever!
Soo first I should warn you that there will be mild mentions of mental health issues and SH‼️ If these things trigger you, please skip my STEP 2 text or do not read this at all. It isn’t anything big, but I don’t want anyone to feel anxious while reading this🫶
Here it starts (I apologize for any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language)
Her name is Rosemary Salmonbay and some might say her surname is silly, but it’s a literal translation of my own surname! I love it, hehe. So, Rosemary is heavily inspired of my own life and almost just me. I made Rosemary a long time ago to make little stories that were inspired of my life and just as a way to cope. But she’s not 100% me either, because that would make me feel uncomfortable lmao.
I used picrew‼️ This is Toon Me!
STEP 1:
Tumblr media
Rosemary is an awkward, shy and silly kid. An outcast, kind of. She’s very into anime, games and drawing. At first not very talkative and finds new people scary, but once you get closer to her she becomes very loud and energetic.
Rosemary enjoys playing outside with dolls, especially Monster High dolls and even dressing up as these characters. She likes drawing them a lot and making new outfits for them. Usually her doll plays are enspired by the games and animes she enjoyed.
She liked games that many other kids didn’t back then, such as Ib. Animes she watched were Ouran High School Host Club and Death Note.
As you can notice from the picture, she didn’t have much fashion sense because she just wore whatever felt comfortable and looked cool. Shirts with Mickey Mouse, Youtube merch and galaxy print.
Rosemary has tried many sports to have at least one hobbie, but nothing really fit her. Football was her favorite though. Rosemary was more into videogames and YouTube.
Moving to a new place made her very nervous but hopeful that she would make friends who wouldn’t judge her too much.
Rosemary gets called Rose, Rosie, Roses, etc. So many different nicknames and sometimes it annoys her, but doesn’t really stop anyone. She’s a bit bigger than other kids, which always made her feel embarrassed. A bit taller than most kids and didn’t like her tummy:(
STEP 2:
Tumblr media
These years were the hardest for Rosemary, because she was very lost, didn’t know who was her true friends and even has some issues with her mother. But mostly Rosemary battles with herself during this time.
Now, Rosemary tries her best to stay away from any spotlight and has only few close friends. She doesn’t want any conflicts, so she has a hard time choosing sides whenever a classmates would have drama.
Rosemary’s escape is music and dancing now. She’s very into K-pop and J-pop during this time and has kind of dropped her old gamer and anime loving self. Though, she still misses those times when it was okay for her to be ”cringe”.
Her mental health declines rather harshly, even making her harm herself in certain ways to relieve overwhelming emotions. She usually regrets doing it afterwards, because it’s hard to hide and it makes her vulnerable.
Even though Rosemary says that she isn’t trying to fit in and is genuinely herself, it’s most likely a lie. She indeed is just trying to somehow fit in and make others happy. Rosemary starts wearing clothes that show off her body more in hopes of making herself like the cool girls and tries to learn makeup.
Rosemary gets more into studying herself and understand that maybe, just maybe this isn’t truly her. So, in subtle ways she tries to show her true self (such as jewelry). Rosemary accepted herself as pansexual/romantic already when she was 12, but for a long while she questions her gender. Being a girl feels right but also empty, being a boy is too much for her and nonbinary isn’t right either. But, she tries to ignore it.
She’s still rather chubby and hates it. It causes her to wear more ’boring’ clothes, because she thinks they won’t show others her bigger body. Rosemary only accepts Rose nickname during this time.
STEP 3:
Tumblr media
Everything kind of starts making sense now. Rosemary is gaining confidence and got professional help for her problems. She accepts her actual style and doesn’t wear ’boring’ clothes anymore.
She’s still awkward and kind of anti-social, but tries her best and is more laid-back now. Rosemary only goes with her kind of people now and won’t force herself to fit in.
They also got back into gaming, anime and even started cosplaying sometimes! They still sometimes listen to K-pop and J-pop but more for nostalgia and during rough times. They’re also into makeup and fashion now, especially fashion styles from Japan.
Did you notice how I used they pronoun for Rosemary? Well, they finally realized and accepted themself as a demigirl! Rosemary prefers she/they pronouns but doesn’t really care if anyone uses he.
Rosemary isn’t entirely happy with her body still and also feels kind of lost, but is slowly and surely getting better. She’s trying to live healthy now, not working out to lose weight but to love her body no matter how chubby she was.
A bit more confident in themself, but still has ways to go and a lot to learn. They aren’t 100% certain what they want to do in the future, but have some ideas.
That was all I have for her now! I haven’t made one for Step 4 yet, but I’ll work on it. I’ll probably post more about her as well and maybe change some things. This is kind of like a first draft, but I doubt I’ll change anything drastically.
12 notes · View notes
brynnhaunt · 1 year ago
Text
THE HAUNTING OF HASTINGS HOUSE
youtube
FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS
Chapter 1
The sky was heavy with rain and, from the looks of it, would deliver at any moment. Emily hurried across the parking lot to the real estate office, and the bell above the glass door chimed above her as she entered the peaceful, air-conditioned interior of the office. Emily was thankful she arrived inside when she did because the sky opened with a torrential downpour just a few seconds after she had.
Emily stood there, watching the raindrops pelt against the glass windows. She could not believe how quickly the weather had turned. She turned to the receptionist, who was staring at her amusedly.
“Looks like you made it just in time,” the receptionist chuckled.
Emily smiled, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, it’s coming down out there.”
The receptionist nodded. “It’s been like this all week. I’m ready for some sunshine.”
Emily laughed. “Me too. I am here to meet Amori Black about a property she wanted to discuss with me. Do you know if she is available?”
The receptionist nodded. “Amori’s in her office. I will let her know you are here. Just take a seat in the waiting area.”
Emily thanked her and made her way to the seating area. She could not help but feel nervous. Emily saw a mirror above a leather couch, smoothed down her wavy red hair, and pinched her ivory cheeks for some color. She heard a door open in the back of the office, and a high-pitched feminine laugh came from the hallway. She plastered a smile as her high school friend from years ago appeared around the corner.
Emily saw Amori approach her with open arms, ready to embrace her old friend. She forced a smile and hugged her back, trying to ignore the feelings of inadequacy that washed over her. They parted, and Amori looked at her with a delighted expression. “Why Emily Buchanan!” “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes!” Amori exclaimed.
They both sat on the couch, and Emily felt Amori’s piercing blue eyes. She shifted uncomfortably under the gaze, feeling self-conscious.
“So, Emily, I have a proposition for you that I think would be perfect for you,” Amori said, handing her a folder. “It’s an old mansion on the outskirts of town.” The former caretakers returned to their state to be with the grandkids two weeks ago.”
Amori Black was the pretty local realtor who gushed sweetness and southern hospitality. She was tall and imposing with platinum blond hair in a high ponytail that showed off her gorgeous cheekbones, and her full lips were painted a Knock Em Dead Red that revealed that showstopper high-wattage smile. Emily cringed under her scrutiny of her. She visibly shrunk in posture at Amori’s perfection compared to her mousy, plain appearance.
Amori grabbed Emily softly around her shoulders and pulled her to her. One of her long red nails brushed hard against the side of her neck, and Emily winced, but she did not draw away. Emily accepted the hug. Amori smelled like Coach Floral. It was a fragrance that she had worn since Emily knew her in grade school. It smelled great. It was then that Emily felt it -- the bump. Amori was pregnant. She glowed in an intelligent cherry-red pantsuit that hugged her tightly.
“God…why did I come here?” Emily thought silently. It was a mistake to come here. Amori wore a white satin blouse unbuttoned halfway, showing smooth, tanned skin and cleavage. Her baby bump stuck out prettily. She was announcing its impending arrival in what Emily guessed to be maybe a few more months. She stilled and ended the hug. Amori’s smile faded for just a moment but then returned brilliantly as before. “I am sorry, Ems. I was not thinking. I am so sorry.” Amori apologized. Now, Emily felt very awkward, and she just wanted to leave. Amori touched her on the small of her back with her hand.
“Let’s go to my office.” Amori led Emily down the hallway. “You just have a seat here, and we will do some paperwork, ok?” Emily was led to a large and bright sunny room painted a cheery bright yellow with gray laminate floors that made Amori’s red high heels click on the surface with every step she took. “Have a seat here, and I will be right back.” Amori left the room, and a few short minutes later, she came back in with a manila folder and slapped it down on the desk in front of them. Emily breathed in deeply and exhaled. Amori sat down opposite her and perched a pair of sassy black reading glasses on the bridge of her nose.
She pulled out a few papers, smiled down, and folded her arms in front of her on the table. She took off her glasses and looked at Emily.
“So,” her voice was more empathetic at this point. “How have you been, Ems? I know this has been so hard for you.” she sympathized. Amor’s expression looked sad.
Emily sighed and shook her head.
“I have just been taking it daily and dealing with it as best as possible,” she said softly. Amori pulled a small glass bowl with a lid before her and took the top off with a flourish. Amori had filled the dish with green candies in yellow wrappers. “Jolly Ranchers!” Amori exclaimed. “I have been craving them like crazy since carrying this little lady.” Emily’s green eyes widened in her pale, heart-shaped face. She bowed her head. It was as if Amori had taken just a little bit of pleasure in revealing the sex of her baby was a girl. Emily knew that Amori had a side like that. She liked to rub salt in the wound. This wound was wide open and bleeding still. It always would be. Amori noticed the dark shadow pass over Emily’s face.
“Fuck Ems!” she exclaimed. “I just can’t keep my mouth shut, can I?”
Emily shook her head slowly. “It is ok. You cannot tiptoe around me forever. You have your life to live and a beautiful baby girl on the way. Congrats to you and Phillip. “
Amori had that glow about her again. “Thank you so much, Ems. It sure has been long enough!” I was beginning to wonder if IVF would ever work.
“Would you like one?” she held out an apple Jolly Rancher in her left hand.
Emily held up her hand.
“I’m fine, but thank you.” she discouraged.
Amori popped a candy in her mouth and sucked on it loudly.
“So…here is the contract. Amori gathered a stack of papers and handed them over to Emily. On top of the pile was an old, grainy black-and-white photo of an old mansion.
Emily took the stack of papers in hand, but her eyes remained fixed on the photograph. The mansion in the photo was a grand old thing with a sprawling lawn and ivy-covered walls. Despite the image’s graininess, Emily could almost feel the cool, damp air around the old place.
Emily picked up the photo and stared at it. She felt a chill crawl down her spine. Amori sighed and leafed through some papers as she spoke.
“Mama said that it was a beautiful house back in its day. It was grand and stately, like something out of a movie. The same family has owned it for generations since the 1860s. Sadly, no one has lived there since the last family matriarch died in the 2020. “Emily looked up from the photo and stared at Amori incredulously. “Really? Who was the last one to live in the house? Do you know?” Amori nodded and smiled as she placed the papers back in order. “The last person to live there was Majorie Hastings. You remember her daughter, I bet? Her name was Hillary Hastings. The mousy-looking genius of a girl with plain features and huge Coke bottle glasses always jumps at the slightest sound. I always thought that she was so weird. She could have been pretty if she wore some makeup!” Emily tried hard to remember. “So, why is Hastings House not being sold? The family could get some major money on the house, right?’ Emily questioned.
Emily felt a thrill of excitement run through her. She had always loved old houses and the stories they held, and this mansion looked like it had plenty of both.
Emily took the stack of papers and the photo with a curious expression. She had never seen anything like it before. The image was old and worn, the corners bent and the edges frayed, but it still held an undeniable elegance.
Amori sighed. “Well, Hillary called me last week….and get this! She is married to a doctor, has three kids, and lives in New Zealand. Good for her, right?” she gushed.
Emily nodded in agreement. “Yes.”
Amori grabbed another Jolly Rancher and took it out of the wrapper.
“Hillary told me that she was forbidden to sell the mansion on her mother’s deathbed, and she promised her mom that she would not. She is going to fix it up and keep it.” She finished and grabbed a pen out of a plastic cup on the corner of the desk with the name Dafford Real Estate printed on it.
“She desires to have someone there to take care of it, and she will hire contractors to bring it back to its former glory and maybe break it up into units down the road or something, but it will always stay in the family.” she volunteered.
Emily stared at the picture again and felt a sense of foreboding, which was strange because she usually did not sense things like that.
But there was something about the picture that drew her in. It was another black-and-white photograph of the old mansion, which seemed to her to have a dark past. Emily could not help but feel as if secrets were hiding behind the walls of the grand estate. She studied the picture, trying to decipher clues about the mansion’s history, but the image remained enigmatic.
“I appreciate you looking for me, Amori, and thinking of me when this house came open. It is enormous, and I cannot afford to spend money on anything. I am barely making it as it is financially. I have had it so hard since Luke and Isla passed, and it is a true struggle to make it. Are there some cheaper options available? Like a room for rent or something? I am only getting twenty hours at work right now. I just cannot afford the apartment anymore since our savings were used for the funeral expenses and bills. I need money for gas and food, and that is it.
She felt so low having to explain all of this to Amori. What must she think of her? She was at the bottom of the barrel, and there was no way out. Emily saw no light for her at the end of her tunnel.
“It is your only choice right now, I am afraid. Hastings House is vacant and needs care, and with the economy what it is, renting is not going to be easy for you right now. No one is leaving, and they are staying put. Hillary will let you stay for free if you agree to remain in the house and take care of it. Emily, I know that you have your reservations. But I think it could be a win-win situation—you get to live there for free, and Hillary was happy to hear you were willing to take care of their old mansion. She remembered you and heard about your tragedy of losing your husband and sweet Isla. She asked if you would keep the garden of roses and just do light housekeeping, and you are free to move about the house without any limitations. It is all open to you. Emily sighed and nodded her head. She did not have much choice: “I’ll do it.”
Amori smiled with relief and reached out to pat Emily’s hand. “Thank you, Em’s. You will not regret it, I promise. You can move in as soon as you want.”
Emily forced a smile. She could not shake the feeling that something was off about the mansion, but she could not put her finger on what it was. Nevertheless, she needed a place to stay, and if it meant taking care of an old, creepy house, so be it.
After Emily signed the contracts, she gathered her things; Amori hugged her goodbye and went out into the rain, clutching the old brass keys. She did not even open her umbrella. She did not care that she was getting drenched; Hastings House was her only choice. Emily got in her white Camaro and took a deep breath. Moving was a massive step for her, but she knew it was right. Emily could finally leave her depressing apartment behind and start a new chapter. She just hoped she could handle the responsibility of caring for such a grand old mansion.
As Emily looked at the photograph of Hastings House, she could not shake the feeling that something ominous was lurking behind those walls. She felt so very alone and so very hopeless as she drove away. “Fuck Luke. I do not know if I can do this.” There was no response, only silence.
Chapter 2
Emily left the real estate office, drove to the local Andy’s Hardware store, and bought a few large and small boxes, tape, bubble wrap, packing paper, scissors, and tools. Emily arrived back at her apartment and discovered that she was starving despite the stress that she felt in the pit of her stomach.
Emily tossed a frozen dinner of mac and cheese and fish sticks in the microwave and chased it down with a cold glass of sweet tea from the fridge. The rain had stopped, and she could hear the crickets singing a night symphony from her balcony. Emily opened the sliding door, and a gush of the cool breeze after the rain stirred the red tendrils of hair stuck to her face. It felt so good.
The night sky was velvet black and sprinkled with millions of sparkling stars. Emily grabbed her tea, went onto the balcony, and looked up into the sky. She continued looking up and saw a shooting star making a dazzling descent across the stars. She had no wish to make it at that point. Her desires had indeed come true, only to be cruelly ripped away. The worst part was that it was her fault. Emily was in her bubble of pain and misery.
Emily sipped her tea and leaned against the railing, staring into the darkness. The world seemed vast and infinite, yet she stood on the balcony, her eyes fixed on where the shooting star had disappeared, lost in thought. Emily knew she should not blame herself, but the guilt was overwhelming. Emily had made a costly mistake and was now paying the price.
As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, she heard a noise from inside her apartment. Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly turned around, her hand going to the pocket where she kept the small knife she always carried.
But it was just her cat, Mr. Nibbles, knocking over a vase on the coffee table. Emily sighed in relief and returned inside, closing the balcony door behind her.
Emily looked at the boxes she had bought earlier, and for a moment, Emily was tempted to start packing at once. But she knew she needed to eat something first. She opened the microwave and took out the now-hot meal of mac and cheese and fish sticks.
Tears filled her eyes at the memory of six months ago when life was so perfect and beautiful. She and Luke had been married for five years. Their daughter Isla was three, and Emily was due to deliver their son any day. Luke had started an IT company with his best friend from college, and it just looked like life could not get any better.
Emily woke up with an intense craving for ice cream around midnight all those months ago. She shuffled uncomfortably into the living room, where Luke worked on his laptop. Her wavy red hair was in a loose bun, and she wore one of Luke’s white T-shirts that was three sizes too big, even with her extended belly. Luke looked up when she walked in and smiled at that gorgeous, disarming smile of his that made her melt. He still had such an effect on her.
Emily sat on the couch next to Luke, snuggled up to him, and breathed in his scent. He smelled freshly brewed coffee and a hint of his favorite cologne, Paul Sebastian. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “What are you working on?” she asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Just some last-minute client requests. Nothing too urgent,” Luke replied, stroking her hair gently. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright. Just a little restless,” Emily said, shifting her weight. “I can’t stop thinking about ice cream.”
Luke chuckled. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we? Let me see what I can do.” He got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.
Emily smiled to herself. She loved how Luke always knew how to make her feel better. Luke returned quickly.
“No ice cream, my love, but I’ll make a run.” He said and leaned down to kiss her belly.
“You are keeping your mom up, son?” Emily giggled because the whiskers of Luke’s dark beard tickled her through the fabric. In response, their son kicked her against her stomach. They both laughed. Emily kissed the top of Luke’s head and then heard a small laugh coming from behind them. They turned and looked.
“Isla, you are supposed to be in bed, young lady,” Emily said in a low mock stern voice. She could not be mad at her. Emily held her arms to her, and Isla flew across the room into them. She grabbed Emily’s neck and tucked her little blond head into her shoulder. Luke’s brown eyes met Emily’s tenderly, and he rubbed Isla’s back slowly.
“Butter Pecan, huh?” he asked with a smirk. Emily smiled prettily. “Yes, please.”
Isla looked up and shouted. “Ice cream Daddy!” I want ice cream!” They all laughed that endearing family way, and Luke ruffled her curly blond hair. He picked up Isla and held her against his chest. Luke whispered something in her ear, and she nodded enthusiastically. He stood with her and looked down at his beautiful wife, glowing with their unborn child. “I will take this little one and get her some Chocolate Chip Nutty Buddy cones. We will go to the Neighborhood Wal-Mart down the road. Be right back, babe.” he said. Luke grabbed his wallet off the hallway table, helped Isla put on her jacket and Crocs, and they left the apartment.
Emily wandered back into the bedroom and collapsed on the king-sized bed. She let the ceiling fan above the mattress blow over her and lifted the T-shirt, exposing her bare, swollen belly. The soft whirring motion of the fan above her lulled her to sleep. She would sleep until they got back with the ice cream.
Emily thought only a few minutes had passed when she heard a loud knock on the front door. She was disoriented and stumbled down the hallway to the front entrance. Why was Luke knocking? Did he lose his keys? Emily did not bother to look through the peephole in the steel door. She unlocked it and opened it up. Her blue eyes widened in her heart-shaped face, and the blue lights from the squad car reflected against her white Camaro parked in the driveway.
“Mrs. Buchanan? “The female police officer questioned softly. Her partner, a young guy in his early twenties, stood beside her. Emily nodded her head as if in a dream state.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but…… there was an accident about an hour and a half ago….,” She trailed off when she saw Emily’s eyes fill with tears.
Emily smiled softly.
“No… you are mistaken. Luke and Isla are fine. They went to get me some ice cream at the store.” She finished as she saw the officers shake their heads.
The man spoke up when he saw she was far along in her pregnancy. “Ma’am, maybe you would like to step inside where it is cooler?” he suggested kindly.
Emily braced her hands against his chest and pushed him away roughly. He stumbled back, almost falling off the side of the steps.
“No,” she whispered, shivering from the shock her body was entering.
She knew. They did not have to tell her. Luke and Isla were dead. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. They did not make it. She turned away from them and walked down the steps and onto the driveway. Emily was barefoot, and her heart pounded violently. She peered down the road…hoping at any moment that Luke’s black Chevy Silverado would come around the curve with its loud v-8 engine roaring. She would smile, walk to the truck’s passenger side, and open it. Emily would unbuckle Isla’s seat belt and pick her up, and they would walk into the house, have ice cream, and go to sleep afterward, and everything would be okay. But there was no truck.
Emily continued staring, and the female police officer touched her on the shoulder. Emily turned quickly and looked at her pleadingly, but the officer’s expression did not change. Emily let out the loudest, gut-wrenching sob that they had ever heard. The sky opened, and icy shards of the coldest hard rain began to pour down, drenching her and the officers. She sank to the pavement on her bare knees and collapsed on the stone pavers. The officers ran to her side, dispatching the paramedics, and she grabbed her stomach in a blinding pain that made her gasp for air. Emily screamed angrily into the night. She was going into early labor. She still had a few months to go. It was too early to have her son. Her belly seized her, and she cried out, clutching the young male officer’s hand. He held it as she opened her legs and began to push. She cried. She screamed. Neighbors looked on silently and sadly at the scene, knowing something terrible had happened to the young mother.
In the middle of the thunderstorm, Emily gave birth to her stillborn son. The paramedics took her to the hospital in the ambulance, and when she arrived, and they were taking her out of the back of the transport vehicle, she heard that it was a drunk driver in an 18-wheeler truck that had hit them head-on coming back from the store. Luke hit a guardrail and went over the embankment. Luke and Isla were killed instantly.
The stress of the accident had caused Emily’s body to go into early labor and brought on a premature delivery of her baby boy. Emily wept as she accepted this reality. There would be no Luke and no Isla and no baby boy. They were gone forever. Emily lost her family in the space of two hours. Emily wanted to die. It was all her fault.
Luke, Isla, and their son, whom she named Nathan Luke… were buried side by side in the family plot at Edward’s cemetery. Luke’s parents flew back from their trip to Paris and helped Emily with the funeral expenses and getting all of Luke’s documents in order. They were devastated as they stood by the graveside on a beautiful, clear, and warm day and watched their caskets lowered into the soft ground. Luke was well-loved, and many attended the services to pay their respects. After the funeral, Emily asked her-in-laws to take her home, and she hid in the bedroom as mourners brought boxes of food and reminisced about old times. She could hear laughter and crying at the same time, and she buried her head under several pillows and tried to drown the sounds out, but to no avail.
***
Emily pressed her head back against the chair she was sitting in and took another sip of her tea. Even though it had been six months, she could still feel the baby. She could feel its ghost movements against her belly, and she cradled her flat tummy and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Nate.” She told her phantom child that she only wanted her family back and she could not have it. There was no way to get those moments before, and Emily realized that even her wildest wishes could not make her family return.
Emily wiped her eyes with the tail of her yellow T-shirt and entered her bedroom. She grabbed a black suitcase tucked casually in the back of her closet. She unzipped it, retrieved a framed photograph of her family on the beach in Hilton Head last year, and placed it inside the bag. She zipped it up tight and tugged it close to her chest. She would take it to Hastings House, put it in a particular spot, and always keep it close.
***
The following day, Emily smiled through her sorrow as she looked around the apartment one last time. She lightly chuckled as she remembered she and Luke making love, christening every room when they first moved in. Emily remembered bringing Isla home from the hospital, a tiny bundle of joy in pink blankets and placing her in her crib, and she and Luke looking down in wonder at the perfect little life they had created together. She peered in the bathroom where she had taken a pregnancy test and left the positive stick on the counter for Luke to find—so many beautiful memories.
The streets were silent and empty that following day. Emily loaded up the boxes and started her car. She drove away from her old life, holding the keys to the new, and went towards Hastings House, where a new journey awaited her. Emily cried again over Luke and Isla.
The rain had started again, matching her mood as she drove through the dreary and cold storm.
Chapter 3
For Emily, it took about 30 minutes to arrive at Hastings. The mansion was in the Low Country of South Carolina. When she arrived at the massive gates, she looked up in awe. She slowly drove through them and up the curving driveway until the gray facade of the mansion came into view. She pulled up to the old mansion, surrounded by tall Weeping Willow trees that swayed slowly with the summer wind. “Oh my God!” she said in shock. She took a deep breath where she parked her car and turned off her engine. Emily sighed heavily and released her seatbelt. She stepped out of the vehicle and, standing in the light rain, she smiled up at the sizeable looming structure of Hastings House, and Emily felt that sense of dread again. She grabbed her bags and suitcase and slowly made her way up the pavers to the door. The house’s exterior walls were old and faded grey brick adorned in climbing green Ivy, and the windows were shrouded in thin spider webs. She took the large Brass key and clutched it tightly.
Emily had to brace herself as she opened the large double oak doors and stumbled into the darkened hall of Hastings House. The cold welcome chilled her to the bone, and she half expected a ghost or two to try and scare her off, but nothing happened. “You don’t believe in ghosts, Ems.” she reminded herself. The air was cold and damp, and the smell of age wafted. Emily felt uneasy as if someone were watching her. She took a deep breath and steeled herself as she stepped further into the massive foyer. Emily looked up in wonder at the crystal chandelier above her. She thought that if it were to fall, she would be dead. Emily stepped deeper inside the first floor and looked around the grand living room with large, draped windows and an intricate rug that looked like it belonged in a palace. The second floor was bright, with light from the large windows shining down on the marble floor. Emily could see a grand piano to her left and a hallway with doors lined up leading somewhere. As she ventured further into the dimly lit rooms, she got an overwhelming sense of presence, as if someone were walking with her. Emily dismissed it. She picked up her suitcase and took a few steps further into the room on the left. A gust of chilly wind blew through the open hallway, making her shiver. She quickly shut the door, and the breeze dissipated.
Emily laughed nervously. She gasped and looked around at the tall ceilings and the intricate moldings on the walls. Emily was surprised by the beauty and elegance of the room she was standing in. Although time had taken its toll, the room still had a sense of grandeur. This feeling of not being alone heightened as she stumbled into an extensive library and saw a figure standing in the far corner dressed in white, facing the wall. Emily screamed in fear and fright as she saw the figure move towards her, walking backward, and she scrambled back. Emily dropped her bag, and her heart pounded quickly. Emily placed her hand over her heart to slow it down. The figure spoke, and Emily felt relief when she heard a familiar voice.
Amori, the real estate agent, stepped out from the shadows. “I see you have arrived,” Amori said with a small smile. Emily cried out. “Amori! You scared the shit out of me!” she yelled, but her face was relieved. Amori chuckled. “I certainly was not going to let you come out here and walk through the house alone.” she drawled in her southern accent that could melt frozen butter. Emily breathed deeply, and together, she and Amori ventured through the mansion, amazed at its beauty even though it was so old. However, darkness still pervaded the place, and Emily felt a chill run down her spine as she and Amori climbed the wide Bifurcated Staircase.
The creaking of the stairs and reverberations of their footsteps echoed around them, and Emily could feel a strong presence increasing the further they climbed. The wood railing was smooth beneath her palms. Amori looked pretty in a long white flowing dress with her blond hair pulled back in a half up half down style with tendrils framing her face. She looked back at Emily and smiled.
“So, this mansion was built in the 1850s, and is it not just like stepping back in time?” she gushed excitedly. Emily saw the haunting family portraits that had been hung on the walls gracing both sides of the grand double staircase, and it seemed as if their eyes followed her. She shivered and hurried up the stairs to catch up to Amori. Emily agreed with a nod of her head. “Yes, it is for sure.” They arrived at the top of the second floor, then turned around and looked back down. They had climbed a lot of stairs. Emily placed her hand on the wooden rail in front of her and had a flash of something so horrific that she stumbled backward. She backed into a large potted plant and almost knocked it over. Amori knelt in front of her with great concern on her face. She grabbed her hand. “Are you ok?” Amori asked, concerned.
Emily closed her eyes to erase the image that she had seen. She never wanted to see that again. Not ever. A woman or girl stood where she stood and then placed her hands around the railing, hauling herself over the bar and falling. What in the hell? Why had she seen that? It was as if the person wanted to jump. The creepiest part of all? She was smiling as she was doing it.
Emily took a few deep breaths and tried to steady herself. She looked down at her hand, which was still trembling. “I don’t know what just happened,” she said, her voice shaking. “I had this sudden feeling, like something terrible happened here.”
Amori looked at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. “What kind of feeling?” she asked.
“It was like a flash,” Emily said, trying to find the right words to describe what she had experienced. “Like…like a memory, but not my own. It was like I was seeing through someone else’s eyes.”
Amori’s eyes widened. “That’s…unsettling Em’s,” she said.
Emily nodded, still feeling shaky. “Yeah. I do not know what it was, but I do not think I want to stay up here any longer.”
Amori stood up and brushed off her knees. “Alright. Let us head back downstairs.”
Emily could not block out the face with an unholy visage as they descended the staircase. It scared her.
“Are you ok?” she asked again.
Emily sighed. “Yes. I am just so tired and did not get enough sleep last night. The mind was playing tricks.” she said softly.
Amori smiled again and chuckled nervously.
“What did you see, Ems?” Emily questioned curiously.
Emily shook the image away. She did not want to resurrect it again.
“It does not matter. Let us continue the tour, shall we?” She dismissed the subject, and Amori said nothing else.
They continued to traverse the mansion inside and out, and for a moment, Emily had forgotten about the vision she had seen at the top of the stairs. She started to adjust to the atmosphere of the mysterious old mansion and was beginning to enjoy the thought of living in a beautiful place such as this. She certainly felt that the mystery of Hastings House was slowly beginning to intrigue her increasingly. Why would it not be sold to another family to enjoy it in the future? Why let it just sit empty? Why?
After hours of walking and talking, Emily and Amori finally returned to the house. She had enjoyed touring the grounds and the gardens. The flowers were well kept; someone still cared for them because the roses were stunning, and the beds had no weeds Emily could see. Amori said she would find out who the groundskeeper was and get back to her when she found out. They toured the large kitchen with marble counters, white cabinets, and a black and white checked floor. The kitchen was accented with touches of red and had a very French Country vibe. Red curtains hung from the smaller window above the sink, and longer drapes of the same color swept the floors gracefully in the eat-in area of the same space. Emily loved to cook and fell in love with the chef’s stove and massive stainless-steel refrigerator. She could make some great meals here. She could only imagine the beautiful meals the cooks made in this kitchen over the decades.
Amori sighed.
“Girl. I am pooped! This place is massive and just gorgeous!” Amori exclaimed. “I am going to head on out, but you are sure you don’t want one of the many suites upstairs?” she asked incredulously. “I mean. There are fourteen bedrooms up there, and the only one that appeals to you is the maid’s quarters off from the kitchen?” she questioned like Emily was strange.
Emily leaned against the massive island and folded her arms.
“I like it.” She spoke. “It has personality and color, and I felt very homey there, which suits me just fine.” She finished.
It was by accident that Emily found the room. She looked back toward the house from the garden, saw the room built off from the kitchen, and saw the cheery daffodil yellow curtains adorning the large bay window. Emily looked at it and returned to the house, leaving Amori in the garden. She walked through the kitchen door, wandered down a small, tiled hallway, and found a closed door with a delightful stained-glass pane in the middle of the wood door. Emily placed her hand on the brass knob and turned, but it would not budge. Amori had returned inside by that point and looked hard at Emily.
“What are you doing?” she asked loudly.
Emily looked behind her to see where Amori was standing.
“I saw this room from the garden, and I want to see what is in here,” she explained.
Amori shook her head.
“Have you tried the master key?”
Emily sighed. “Yeah…. but it will not open it,” she said, frustrated.
Amori returned to the kitchen, picked up the manila envelope with the contract, and reached down to the bottom, and her fingers closed around a set of keys. To what they went to? She did not know, but it was worth a try, right?
She walked back down the hallway and handed the keychain to Emily.
Emily took the keys and smiled. She tried the first one, but it did not fit. Emily pushed the second key in, but it was the same; then she tried the third key, and it opened with a satisfying click.
She opened the door and beamed as she stepped inside. The room was tiny compared to the others, but the colors were impressive. Vibrant yellow adorned the walls, while a laminate floor in a lively hue lit up the space. Someone had dressed the large white iron bed in cobalt, patterned pillows, and a fluffy white bedspread and comforter. Emily opened her arms and declared, “I think this is it!” Amori looked around in approval. “It’s certainly you, Ems.” Emily could agree; she admired the small gas fireplace in the right corner and the adjoining full-sized bathroom with an inviting soaking tub. She was also pleased to find a cozy area with a TV and entertainment center for relaxing.
“Em’s!” Amori exclaimed.
Emily followed her voice and then saw a separate smaller area off from the bathroom with a nice-sized armoire built in and shelves for things.
“I will sleep in here for sure.” She told Amori.
Amori looked at her watch, and her eyes widened.
“Oh goodness. I have been here for hours.”
Emily stepped out of her house and stood in the round driveway. As the sun set, so did its light; the green rolling hills slowly transitioned into a deep purplish hue.
Amori opened the door on the shiny black Lincoln Navigator and got in, shutting the door behind her. She looked ahead of Emily and saw the lights on in the house. They had located the breaker box, and the place flooded with light. She was worried about Emily, but she would not tell her that. She was worn out and exhausted, and her ankles had swollen slightly from all the standing and walking through the house and the grounds. This house would give her a lovely commission if only she could talk the owner into selling it, but that would not happen.
“Call me if you need me, ok?” Amori said.
Emily smiled and wrapped her arms around her to ward off the night chill. She was nervous about her first night, there was no doubt, but she was going to fix some food that she brought in her cooler, have a soda, and go to bed in her cozy little space. It felt like a cottage space to her.
“I will be fine, Amori. Thank you for spending the day with me.” She was grateful for it.
Emily watched Amori drive away and continued looking until the SUV disappeared around the bend in the road. She was alone. Emily felt a chill creep down her spine and turned to the house. You know when you sense someone watching you. You just feel it, and Emily thought it now. She slowly approached the house and walked up the front steps. Emily opened the door and walked inside the brightly lit foyer. She closed and locked the large doors behind her, and she walked faster as she made her way to the kitchen to make a sandwich. The past owners updated the kitchen. Recessed lighting was in the ceiling and over the counters. Emily grabbed her green cooler off the counter and opened it. She opened the bag of ham and rolled it up, eating a few pieces of it, and then popped open a can of coke and drank it in almost one gulp.
Nine o’clock had arrived, and Emily was finally ready to turn in for the night. Exhaustion had taken over her body, but she still needed to check that the house was secure before she could crash.
Emily left the open kitchen and went down the hall to the front of the house again. She turned off the light switch on the wall by the doors and turned on the alarm as Amori had instructed. The little green light popped on, and an automated voice said, “All areas secure.”
Emily drew a sense of security from the sound of the voice, even if its purpose was only to inform her. She glanced up at the curved staircase and spotted the large, eerie family portraits hanging on the wall, then settled her gaze on the railing, where she had seen a vision of the apparition earlier in the day. But nothing happened. Emily exhaled with relief and averted her eyes.
There was nothing wrong with this house, and she did not believe in that shit anyway. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. Pleased with her self-reassurance, Emily spotted the long hallway lit up on the second floor and sighed. It was time for her to retire to bed.
Emily returned to her room, glancing at the weather app on her phone as she walked. When she entered, Emily smiled at the cheerful colors in the room and the sweet smell of freshly laundered linens. She changed into her lavender nightgown and settled in bed, feeling safe and secure beneath the covers. Emily would never even consider sleeping upstairs in one of those large suites. As a sense of warmth overcame her, her exhaustion slowly made her relax, and her limbs grew heavy. But then, just as she closed her eyes, Emily heard a faint whisper – so soft that it could have been all in her head. Fearing she would open her eyes to find someone standing there, Emily curled up tighter under the comforter and eventually fell into a deep sleep.
The moonlit night flooded the room, giving Emily’s slumbering body a silvery glow. A girl with coal-black eyes and a mouth gaping open in a horrific smile glared at her from the shadows, hatred radiating from her being. In a split second, she was gone.
Chapter 4
Emily woke up early the following day to birds singing outside her window. She saw the first signs of dawn coming through the bay window, pulled the comforter closer to her chin, and closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to surface again as it did every morning.
Each morning, I started the same for Emily. She awoke with a blank mind, but gradually, it all flooded back to her like a broken dam in her subconscious. Her memories and emotions hit her like a battering ram of sorrow, pain, and longing that was fresh and new every time, unrelenting in its attack on her psyche.
She threw back the covers from her body and exited the bed. Her feet landed on the floor, and she shivered. It was so cold in the room. She longed for nothing more than a hot shower. She went to the bathroom, looked at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, and noticed the prominent black shadows under her eyes and the weary look of sorrow on her face. She was only 25 but looked 35 with what life had delivered. She leaned over and turned on the shower and felt the stinging hot spray turn much more comfortable after some adjusting of the handle.
Emily stripped out of her clothes, got a towel out of her bag and some fresh clothes out of her suitcase, and piled her red hair on top of her head in a loose knot. She entered the large, spacious, tiled shower and let the water sluice down her slender body to the shower floor. She grabbed a bar of sweet-smelling soap from the tray in the shower, lathered her body, and then rinsed it off.
Once her morning ritual was complete, she dressed in fitted jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt that hugged her tiny waist and slipped into a pair of white canvas tennis shoes. It was time to start her first day.
Emily opened the door to her room and stepped out into the chilly hallway off from the kitchen. The morning sunlight lit up the kitchen, casting a soft glow on the copper fixtures and white marble counters, and she could see the gardens and hills beyond through the window above the large farmers’ copper sink. The southern sky was beautiful in muted shades of peach, yellow, and turquoise blue.
An intense need for coffee hit her, and Emily looked around for a coffee maker but did not find one. Damn, she thought to herself. I need that. She would have to make a trip to the store and pick up a few things to survive here, and a coffee pot would be at the very top of that list and some food, she thought as she scanned the inside of the massive stainless-steel fridge and many cabinets. They were both bare. Yep! A trip to the store was most definitely in order.
Emily made a concise list on her phone of things to pick up, and then she went to the front of the house and opened all the doors downstairs to air out the spaces and let some freshness in. She gazed at the large rooms, like the library, sitting room, and massive office, and could not help but be amazed by their immense beauty.
Emily walked out of the library and looked up the steps. Her eyes wandered to the railing again, but there was nothing there, only a stream of sunlight caressing the wood. Emily, you are so silly. She chuckled to herself and walked up the steps to the second floor. The landing was beautiful, with large oriental rugs covering the well-polished wood floors. The head of the household liked clocks in the past because they were everywhere, and as the clock struck 8 o’clock, they all began to chime. There had to have been at least 30 chiming clocks. Emily shook her head and turned to walk down the hallway to open the doors to the suites. The sun lit the hallway to the left from the large windows facing the front of the home from the east. She turned to the right hallway; it was dark, and not one ounce of sunlight lit up the dark corridor.
Emily decided to go ahead and let those rooms air out first. Get the creepy part out of the way. She turned the flashlight on her phone and pointed it down the hallway. She went to the first large door and opened it up. The inside of the room was bright and sunny, and the décor was a light spring green. It was lovely with a high canopied bed, green rugs, and touches of green and yellow everywhere her eyes landed—the bedding, the drapes, etc.
One room down, she whispered to herself.
Emily explored a pink room, a blue one, a yellow one, and a red one that was too much. Then, there was the white space before she reached the last chamber. It was only accessible through three steps of stairs. When she went to open it, however, the door would not budge - Someone had locked it from the inside.
How strange!
Emily dismissed it for a moment. She would have to get in there eventually, though. Emily turned to walk away and heard what sounded like a slight knock on the door from the inside. She turned back quickly, grabbed the knob, and turned, but it would not.
Emily stepped back and glanced over her shoulder. The sight of the door made her sick, as it had the previous day. She felt weak and on the verge of throwing up. Even though there was no lock on the door, it would not budge. It would have taken a lot of effort to open, more than Emily had to spare. As she moved away from the door, the nausea started to subside. It was completely gone when she reached the middle of the landing. The bedrooms had light streaming in from their windows but not from the door at the end of the hallway. All that came from there was an oppressive force that frightened Emily.
Emily toed it back downstairs quickly. Once in the foyer, she heard the clock strike 9 o’clock, and the chime of the bells echoed loudly throughout the house. Emily grabbed her wallet and keys and left the house. She got in her car and drove away. Emily needed some distance. She glanced through the rearview mirror, and the place looked so still and lifeless. The Weeping Willow trees surrounding the mansion even seemed to sag with sadness. The house was not still and quiet, though. Something was wrong, and Emily knew it all surfaced from that dark room at the end of the hallway. The door would not open. Someone did not want that door to open, and they fixed it so it would never open again.
Chapter 5
Driving away from Hasting’s House, Emily felt a sense of relief. She had only been there two days, and though she had hoped for an improvement in her mood, it had not happened yet. With more time, it would. As she drove along the winding country road, she noticed a pretty store at the side of the highway—Gordan’s Country Market—so Emily pulled into its overflowing parking lot and went inside. A tantalizing aroma of freshly cut flowers surrounded her as soon as she stepped through the open doors. There were buckets full of colorful blossoms resting on the windowsills. Taking a basket in hand, Emily chose some red carnations and white and yellow daisies to brighten up her room decor, even though Hastings House had its own garden that she had yet to explore. Flowers always cheered Emily up, and these would be no different.
Emily entered the bustling store that looked like it had been there since the 1930s or 1940s. The building was charming, covered in white aluminum siding and large windows with bright red shutters. A couple of older adults sitting on the benches outside sent her a warm smile when she passed them. She recognized their faces – they reminded her of her grandparents, whom she had not seen for an extended period. Soft country music played from the speakers at the front. Emily noticed a sign above the blue Formica counter reading, “Fresh fudge and cookies ready to devour!” she followed her nose toward the candy section. Sample cups of blond fudge and chocolate chip cookies, lined up in rows, were calling out her name. Emily could not resist taking a bite out of one. The sweet butter and cocoa melted in her mouth, making her eyes roll in pleasure.
“Pretty good, huh?” a female voice behind her said.
Emily turned and saw a pretty young woman with the reddest hair she had ever seen and tons of freckles all over her face and arms. She was lovely, and her green eyes flashed with warmth and kindness. She was Merida from the Disney Movie Brave brought to life!
Emily smiled back. “Yes, it is perfect!”
The young woman stepped out from behind a stack of boxes filled with chips and other snacks in the center of the store.
She had the most genuine smile and held a box cutter in one hand and a box cut down in the other.
“We are running a special buy one, get one for free deal!” she said enthusiastically.
Emily smiled.
“Well then, I will take advantage of that deal.”
Clarrisa walked over to her and patted her on the right shoulder.
“Hang right there.” She said in a sweet southern accent and put down the box and cutter.
She went behind the counter and grabbed two boxes. Clarrisa stood before a glass cabinet displaying the sweets and slid the door back to access the cookies and fudge.
“What is your poison? We have blond fudge, Maple walnut fudge, and my personal favorite, California Walnut fudge. For cookies, we have Chocolate chips, sugar, and.” She leaned back in the cabinet and pulled out a tray. “And my mom’s famous Peanut Butter cookies.”
It all sounded so good to Emily, but she chose a box of blond Fudge and Peanut Butter Cookies.
“I’ll wrap these up for you.” Clarrisa offered.
Emily stood and watched her work.
Clarrisa carefully placed the fudge and cookies in boxes and then sealed them with some tape.
She looked up and handed the boxes to Emily.
She wiped her hands on a red gingham apron tied around her slender waist, and Emily noticed her bright red tennis shoes. Red must be her favorite color, she ascertained.
She stepped back around the counter.
“Is there anything else that I can help you with?’
Emily felt her friendliness radiating from her, and so she responded with.
“I know this is probably impossible… but do you have a coffee pot?”
Clarrisa chuckled.
“Aren’t the ones in the hotels pathetic … so tiny, and they do not even have a good selection of coffee?” She finished.
Emily smiled.
“I am not staying at a hotel. I need one for the place I am currently staying at,” she said.
“No. I am staying at the Hastings House.” She volunteered.
Clarrisa’s eyes widened with shock.
“No way! Seriously?”
She could not have been more than nineteen or twenty.
She had not had a hard life. At least not yet.
“Stop it, Emily. Don’t think that about that young woman. Just because your life is crap, doesn’t mean that hers is.”
Emily responded.
“Yes. I moved in just yesterday.”
Clarrisa grabbed her softly around the elbow and linked her right arm with her left arm.
“You come with me.” She looked at Emily as if wanting to know her name, and Emily recognized that, so she told her name.
“Emily Buchanan.” She spoke.
Clarissa smiled brightly.
“Well, it is nice to meet you, Emily Buchanan. I think we can find something in the retail section. Mama has everything like the big box stores.”
She led her down aisles of canned goods, meats, produce fruits, and vegetables. And then they turned down another corridor and came to a set of double doors that opened electronically.
This part of the store had a boutique atmosphere. Down the aisles, an array of decorations, appliances, and jewelry was on display. Clothes hung attractively from racks. A worker had Toys, bedding, and colorful pillows piled up on a daybed in the corner to catch a customer’s attention.
“Right back here, Emily,” Clarrisa said, and Emily followed her.
The aisle was tight and confined, but Emily could see a coffee pot for sale at the end of the row—a Mr. Coffee machine.
Clarrisa lifted on her tiptoes and pulled the box down. She handed it to Emily, and Emily deposited it in her cart.
“Thank you, Clarrisa.”
She nodded.
“Of course!”
Clarrisa walked with her back down the aisle. They walked down the aisle single file because there was little room.
“So, how do you like that house?’ Clarrisa asked. Softly. Emily thought for a moment about how to answer that.
“It is huge. Creepy. But lovely, just creepy.” Clarrisa looked up as if she heard something that she was not supposed to.
“Creepy, how?” Emily thought about revealing the truth, but she discounted it. She did not want any pity. She just wanted to do her job and possibly make a new life.
“Oh, you know. It is old, empty, and big. It just makes me feel.” Emily paused. “Unnerved at times. I have been there for only two days, and already I feel uneasy with how large it is, like I could get lost and never find my way back.”
Clarrisa nodded. She seemed to understand. They rounded the corner to the checkout lane.”Be careful there.” For some strange reason, Clarrisa said that as if she knew something she was not telling.
Emily smiled. “Of course. I always am.”
“I bought some flowers to spruce up the mantles, and now that I have a coffee pot, I can make it.”
Clarrisa gasped.
“Oh…do you like blueberries?” She exclaimed.
Emily liked this woman.
“I do,” she stated.
“Well….do I have the coffee for you then!”
She led her to the coffee aisle, located a bag of Blueberry coffee, and threw it in the cart.
“Annie’s Blueberry coffee is cheaper than some other brands, but the flavor is incredible!” she gushed.
“I see the lines are getting longer, and Mama will be on the intercom calling me a few, and I hate that,” she said, rolling her green eyes dramatically.
Once they arrived back at the front of the store, Emily and Clarrisa went their separate ways, but first, Clarrisa grabbed her hand.
“Hastings has a fascinating history. You should read up on it.”
Emily tucked the information away in her brain and kept shopping, eventually deciding on a steak, a potato, two jugs of sweet tea, canned vegetables, red apples and navel oranges, bread, slices of ham and turkey, some mayonnaise, tomatoes, and coffee filters. Content with her haul, she made her way to the checkout line.
The lines were long, and Emily picked up a US Weekly magazine from the rack beside her and flipped through it while she waited. Finally, it was her turn.
“Well, Hello again!”
It was Clarrisa.
She started swiping the items as Emily loaded them onto the belt.
“So, you have heard that Hastings is haunted, right?” she asked as she keyed in the code on the apples.
Emily looked at her as she dug into the back pocket of her fitted jeans and pulled her small brown wallet out to get her debit card.
“I have heard that for years, but I don’t believe in all that,”
Clarrisa told her about the total amount for her groceries, and Emily paid.
“When I was in high school, we had to do a book report on our town, and I chose the Hastings House because we used to go out there and do-little rituals and rites of passage stuff as young teens on Halloween night.” Clarissa winked at her teasingly and stuck the tip of her tongue out. Emily was sure there was some mischief with that abundance of red hair.
Emily laughed and watched Clarrisa bag her groceries. “I just thought you should know. Many people swear that the house and grounds are haunted, and it was super creepy at night when I was there. That night was super-duper creepy because Mrs. Hastings had just passed.” Clarrisa winked as she handed Emily the two bags of groceries.
“It was nice to meet you, Clarrisa.”
Clarrisa waved as Emily walked past her.
“Same here! Have a wonderful day, and come again!” she yelled after her.
Emily smiled as she exited the store with her groceries and her little garden of flowers. Clarrisa had heard stories about the house, but Emily did not want to hear about it. She was going to investigate its history at some point. She just was not sure when. She had to live there for now, so she would blank out anything she heard from others.
After she had collected all her groceries, Emily loaded them into her Camaro and drove home. Then it hit her—she had forgotten the milk! Cookies without milk were no fun, so she pulled over in a mart and got a gallon of the stuff before continuing to the house. As she pulled up to the driveway at around eleven o’clock, something caught her eye—a foreign car she did not recognize parked under the weeping willow tree that lined the circular drive. Her heart raced as she noticed it was an old black Honda; why was someone here? She did not know anyone who drove a car like that.
With careful precision, Emily guided her car up the long driveway and parked it next to the other vehicle. She Stepped out of her car and lifted the two bags of groceries from the back seat. She placed them on the hood of her car and pulled out her purse and keys; then, she walked up the steps to the porch. Emily unlocked the front door and walked into the quiet mansion. She entered the kitchen and placed her bags of groceries on the counter. She walked over to the kitchen sink, looked out the large bay window framed with red curtains, and saw a young woman and a small girl walking in the flower garden. They did not appear to be causing any harm, so she went ahead and did a few things. Emily unpacked her groceries in the stately kitchen and set up her new coffee pot on the counter by the stove. She made a pot of Blueberry coffee that smelled fantastic and had a peanut butter cookie with it, and then she placed her flowers in some vases that she found under the kitchen cabinet beneath the sink and filled them with water. She would put them in her bedroom later.
She washed her hands and sighed. It was time to meet her visitors. Emily’s curiosity was piqued.
***
When Emily opened the back door that led outside, she was greeted by an abrupt rush of humid air. It was so oppressive and damp in the low country, making Emily feel like she needed to jump back inside for another shower. She shuffled across the thick grass to the garden.
The woman was texting on her phone, and the small girl was bending down, picking roses, and playing with a little golden puppy by swatting a bright red rose back and forth across the pup’s face and making it sneeze.
Their backs were to Emily. She unlatched a white wooden gate with a trestle of red and hot pink climbing roses above her head and softly approached them. Her footsteps were silent.
“Hello. “Emily said softly.
The woman jumped, as did the girl, and dropped her cell phone into the flower bed of daffodils.
“Oh Shit! the woman exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me,” she said, laughing nervously and holding her hand to her stomach.
Emily held her hand up in a truce position.
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I just wanted to come and introduce myself. I am Emily Buchanan. I’m the housekeeper here.”
The woman was pretty with short, deep brown hair cut in a pixie, warm brown eyes framed by long dark lashes, and she was close to six feet. She looked in her mid-thirties and had an olive complexion showing off her high model-like cheekbones. She was slender and wore lavender nurse scrubs with a baby elephant print in cheerful yellow. She wore white tennis shoes with canary yellow shoestrings, a lanyard around her neck, and a name badge that said Cypress General. Emily would guess that she worked in the Neonatal unit.
The woman held her hand to her forehead and had an embarrassed look on her face.
“Oh, I am so sorry. I heard someone had accepted the job, but I wasn’t clear on who or when the new caretaker would arrive!” She gushed in a low country accent.
She smiled apologetically.
“I am Lainie Griffin, and this is my niece, Bella.” She said, pointing to the pretty girl playing with the adorable puppy. We live just down the road, a piece to your left. We have the horse farm Griffin Farms.” She told Emily.
Emily gasped.
“Oh wait! I saw your farm on the way to the store this morning. It was a white fence with beautiful horses in the pasture?”
Lainie nodded enthusiastically.
“Yep! That is the one.”
Emily sighed.
“I love horses.”
“So does my brother Davis. He raises and breeds Arabians.”
Emily found that so fascinating. She smiled.
Lainie shook her head in apology.
“I would have never just shown up like this if I knew someone had been living here. It’s been vacant for so long. At least two years since Mrs. Hastings passed away. I feel like I am trespassing!” She laughed nervously.
Emily shook her head.
“No, you are fine.” She assured her.
Lainie visibly relaxed in her face and her body.
Emily looked around her at the garden and surrounding property.
“You are familiar with this place?” She questioned softly.
Lainie laughed dryly.
“I should say so.” She spoke. “We may not be Hastings, but we are close enough with all of the relatives that have worked here through the years for the family!” she chuckled. “We have been heavily invested.”
Lainie strolled to a spot away from the little girl who was still plucking flowers, and Emily trailed her. She could tell that Lainie had something to share, but she wanted to be sure they weren’t close enough for the child to hear them.
Once they had stepped away, but she could keep an eye on the girl, Lainie spoke.
“My family has worked for the Hastings family for many years. My grandmother, mother, and sister were all housekeepers here.”
Lainie smiled.
“I broke the chain and became a nurse.” She spoke. “Thus, the kid scrubs!” She pointed to the elephant fabric and then continued.
“She is my niece, as I said. I am her sole guardian since her mom passed away a few years ago.” Lainie shared it with Emily.
Emily looked over at the child.
Her hair was the lightest shade of cotton blond and rolled down her back in gentle waves. Her skin was porcelain-white, giving her a delicate, otherworldly air. She had thought the child was shy due to their quietness, but now she could sense something else.
“Bella has selective mutism. She used to talk as much as any child, but she stopped when my sister died.”
Emily’s heart went out to the little girl.
Lainie walked over to a stone bench in the middle of the garden path and sat down with a heavy sigh.
“I bring Bella here when she gets agitated, which calms her. She will only communicate by writing. She has not spoken one word. It helps her to be where Tristan is and makes her feel calm and close to her.”
Emily’s blue eyes widened.
“Close to her? “Here?” She questioned.
Lanie nodded in response.
“Yes, Tristan served as Mrs. Hastings’ housekeeper, her loyal companion, and whatever else you might call it. She had been with Marjorie for five years, and they had a good relationship. One morning, my sister was vacuuming the stairs to the second floor when she fell backward.
Emily felt pure horror run through her body.
Lainie looked at her and nodded to affirm what Emily was thinking.
“Bella saw it all.”
“Oh, my…. God!” Emily gasped.
Lainie’s eyes watered up.
“Yes. It has been tough on us. Bella was already giving her mom a tough time when she came to work with her that summer. She had such an attachment to this place, and Mrs. Hastings liked her being here, but Tristan got tired of the tantrums, and they moved back in with my brother and me shortly before she died. Bella threw an ungodly fit, and Tristan would not even let her come back to work with her for a while, but then she eventually did, with Mrs. Hastings urging. It was going a lot better until the fall happened.”
Emily had experienced heartache and loss, so she could relate to Lainie’s situation. Bella rose from her seat and searched for her aunt. As soon as she spotted her, the little girl ran over with the pup scampering behind her. Emily looked into the palest blue eyes, without any color at all, that seemed to peer right into her soul. Bella did not return a smile. She simply stared.
Lainie pulled Bella to her side, and her voice was light.
“Bella, this is Emily, the new housekeeper here. Isn’t that cool?”
No response. Just the continued stare made Emily extremely uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
Bella pulled hard on Lainie’s hand, and Emily saw her reach into the back pocket of her scrub pants and pull out a small notebook and pencil. She handed it to Bella.
Bella grabbed it and began to write on the pad. She showed Lainie what she had written and then looked back at Emily with a look of hope in her eyes.
Lainie looked at Emily and turned the pad around to show her what Bella had written.
In big, bold letters, it read.
Have you seen my mommy?
She looked intently at Emily, and Emily shook her head in the negative. She did not know what to say. She looked to Lainie, and then she looked back at Bella.
Emily knelt on the grass before her, and her voice was kind.
“I have not seen her yet, but I have only been here a few days,” she said. “I know her name now, though, and if I see your mom, I will tell her now that you miss her.”
Lainie nodded approvingly, and deep appreciation was in her eyes.
“It looks like it is time to go, sweety,” Lainie said, and she tousled Bella’s golden locks. “I need to get you and Goldie back home, and I have a shift coming up soon.” With that, the trio began making their way out of the garden and toward the mansion.
Emily strolled with her companions, the little pup galloping after her sneakered feet. She stopped and bent down, giving the pup’s downy fur a good rubdown as it wagged its tail.
“She is so adorable.” The little puppy squirmed like a wiggle worm, and Emily released her.
“Y’all can come through the house if you like and not have to walk around this huge house.” Emily offered.
Lainie looked at her and down at Bella beside her, who was looking up at her with hope in her big blue eyes.
“I would prefer to walk around if you don’t mind,” she said, tapping her watch face.
“Steps!” she declared.
Emily laughed.
“I hear that!” She agreed.
But there was a guarded and haunted expression on Lainie’s face that Emily could not miss.
“Well, Y’all take care and come back whenever you want.”
Emily watched the car pull out of the drive, and it hit her hard in her gut. Bella reminded her of Isla so much. For a child that young to witness a parent’s death. It was so unspeakably horrible and tragic. That child would never be the same, having seen that.
Emily was so desperate to hold her daughter in her arms again. Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears as she gazed at the bright blue sky. She imagined being reunited with Luke, Isla, and her unborn son. It felt so cruel that Emily had been left behind. The bitterness in her heart mounted, and she swiped away the tears from her face with a quick, angry motion.
She would never heal from this loss.
Emily stepped into the house, into the chilly atmosphere of the entryway, and glanced up at the stairs. She recalled her vision. She had seen a young woman or a girl on that first day perched atop the wood banister who had glared down at her with those obsidian eyes and smiled emotionless before sheaving herself over the railing and plummeting to her demise. Emily shivered at the thought and quickly moved away from the area. She wanted to be somewhere else as soon as possible.
Emily hurried to her bedroom and retrieved a medium-sized red box with a handle, which she brought over to the leather sofa in the sitting area. It was a vintage record player Luke had given her on their second anniversary, which she treasured. Emily rummaged through her collection of classic albums and grabbed an old Frank Sinatra record out of her closet. Then, she took it and the record player to the kitchen and put them on the center island. Plugging it into the wall outlet, she felt relieved as ‘Old Blue Eyes’ crooned through the halls and up the stairways and hallways of her grand home.
Emily got so busy putting things away that afternoon that she did not notice the sun beginning to set, the house growing dark, and the shadows creeping in.
It was dusk at the old Hastings mansion.
Emily cooked a steak and potatoes for her dinner. Finding two white plates in the cupboard above the sink, she placed her food on it before hastily consuming it while standing at the kitchen island. Emily was so greedy that she did not even sit down to eat. Two glasses of sweet tea quenched her thirst, but she longingly wished for a nice glass of wine or a few beers to go with her meal - only to find there would be no such indulgence tonight.
After Emily finished her meal, she tidied up and stepped outside to see the sunset that painted the sky orange, with royal purple and turquoise aqua as accents. The sultry night air blew a promise of rain or a thunderstorm later. She returned to the garden and sat on the bench Lainie had occupied earlier. Emily swapped her tennis shoes for some flip-flops, which she removed to let her feet rest in the cool grass. With her head reclined, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment.
Emily felt so much better out there than she did in the house. She dreaded shutting down the house again for the night, especially knowing that Bella’s mom had died in that house. Emily prayed that she did not reencounter her or have that vision again because it shook her to the core.
She turned back to gaze at the massive structure, and a breeze stirred her messy bun. Her eyes grazed over the windows on the second floor but did not linger on them long. A shiver ran down her spine, causing her to wrap her arms around herself to shake off the feeling of being watched. Emily stared at the gauzy white curtains on the middle window in front of the staircase. It felt like someone was looking through those curtains at her. But how could that be true? She knew no one else was in the house with her, and she did not believe in ghosts anyway. They were not real; they were fantasies told by people who wanted to scare others.
14 notes · View notes
ann3ofabyss4lred · 2 years ago
Text
warning: mention of blackface,cultural appropiation,racism,grooming.
Thank Godness,my 10 year old self never knew Colleen Ballinger or her character Miranda sing because I guess she wasn't popular enough to reach Latam kids that didn't know English. I'm really thankful for grewing up with German Garmendia and his sketchs, Yuya and her make up tutorials, and hispanic amor doce gameplay YouTubers,etc.
Because how the fuck did Millenials or anyone else enjoy this woman's content in general and let her get away with this shit?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The picture on the left is of Colleen Ballinger with a fake headdress made of paper that is supposed to look like a Native American headdress?.
As far as I heard, native American headdresses are supposed to be very sacred and this lady right here chose to do this, made of paper, to mock it?
In the picture on the right, she's imitating Beyonce's performance of "Single Ladies" while doing blackface. The public wasn't saying "what the fuck is this" "lady,stop it,that's fucked up" they were cheering at her, and for the people who are saying "it was another time." Please, it wasn't 100 years ago; it was in 2018, 5 years ago. Everyone knows blackface is wrong. Years of black people telling everyone how wrong it was to do it Another thing is you choose to ignore it.
Oh,how I can forget her video of her stereotyping Latinos?
Tumblr media
as a latina, this is very cringe to look at,and it's offensive.
And some clips of her making nasty suspicious comments are popping out on my fyp bc ppl are commenting on those clips,and her nasty behaviour really was in plain sight.
I can't believe how some ppl believed hee in 2020 and make a 17 year old Adam deactive his comment section bc of the harrasment, when he show conversations and multiple proof of her being nasty,and it's really great and refreshing seeing him stronger and getting ppl to believe him.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
And her ass apology song, "not a groomer,just a loser 🥺" like lady, GROOMERS ARE LOSERS.
"toxic gossip train" my ass, celebrities after doing fucked up stuff are always like "cancel culture is toxic,don't let others grow put of their mistake" like u are not getting cancelled for saying x shit, u are getting DRAGGED FOR RACISM AND GROOMING MINORS,WHICH ARE CRIMES BTW.
and ppl calling Adam "whining dude" are the reason why men don't talk about their grooming or SA traumatic experiences.
He isn't whining, he is spreading awareness about her creepy persona. And he has right to be angry or "whiny" imagine a 13 year old working and managing an account of a celebrity FOR FREE,NOT PAY STUFF. getting manipulated to defend her,and being asked inappropiate questions, getting sent underwear... that's nasty.
Istg she gets worse everytime,hope she goes to jail or sm.
24 notes · View notes
sozero · 2 years ago
Text
On Forgiving Yourself
I am constantly reliving memories of me not at my best. Embarrassing moments going all the way back to my childhood, moments of vulnerability, terrible things I did to people who maybe didn’t deserve it. A highlight reel of all of these moments in time that I desperately wish I could just forget, which invokes a self-loathing so strong I feel it in my very bones and I wonder if I ever had the capacity to be good. (I recently found out that there’s a term for this, it’s called a “cringe attack”)
When we make mistakes, or hurt someone, we often want to go back to them, and beg for forgiveness, or rationalize and explain the reasoning behind what we did. But this is not for the sake of the other person. It’s to make ourselves feel better. This isn’t to say that we aren’t sorry, but sometimes our apologies have ulterior motives and we don’t even realize it.
I believe this comes from a need for external validation. Low self-worth. You want reassurance that you’re a good person. You want reassurance that you are good enough and worthy. (You don’t need someone else’s forgiveness in order for you to forgive yourself. You must forgive yourself regardless.)
For me, understanding and empathy can play a big part in forgiveness, I think. When I’m able to put myself in someone else’s shoes, it’s easier for me to forgive them, rather than staring at them in anger and contempt, wondering “What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you do that?”
And when I make mistakes, this is often the way I talk to myself, in my head, anyway. But when I take time by myself to reflect on my actions (I know it sounds corny, whatever idc), I’m able to understand where that came from and empathize and say “Oh. That’s why.” Having empathy is the first step towards forgiveness. (I sound like a camp counselor)
But even when I understand why I did what I did, I know that the other person probably doesn’t. And this makes me want to explain myself, because maybe if they understand, they can validate my experience and forgive me. But like I said, this is only to make myself feel better.
The hard truth is, no one owes you forgiveness. Sometimes, when you make a negative impression on someone (whether it’s on accident or not, maybe you’re having a bad day, perhaps your cat just died, whatever), sometimes that bad impression is going to stick and there’s nothing you can do to change that. Does that mean you’re a bad person? Of course not. But ultimately, there’s nothing you can do about it.
The beauty of life is that there are so many people on this earth, and there is always an opportunity to be a better person, make new connections, or even try to mend old ones. The beauty of life is being able to try again. There are people out there willing to get to know you, who want to understand you and who will try to.
So when you find yourself in a situation where you’ve wronged someone, and they don’t want to forgive you, they don’t want to understand you, don’t take it as a challenge to prove how good a person you are. You don’t get to decide if someone else’s opinion of you is valid or not, and how someone else feels about you isn’t indicative of your worth. Don’t beg for forgiveness, and don’t beg to be understood. Don’t try to change their narrative. Trying to understand why someone thinks and acts the way they do is incredibly taxing. Forgiving someone who’s wronged you is freaking hard. These are tremendous asks of someone, and you must accept that not everyone is willing to give this to you, and they don’t have to. No one owes you anything. The only person who can always forgive you, and the only person who will listen with empathy in order to understand you, is yourself.
If and when you do get the opportunity to a second chance to someone you’ve hurt, and you feel the need to explain yourself, ask yourself, if you want to explain yourself because you want the other person to understand you better, to strengthen your connection, or if you want to explain yourself in order to rationalize your actions and bring solace to your guilt. (I don’t know if I used solace correctly. Ah well. Can’t be helped.)
If you’re not interested in having a relationship/bond/connection with this person, let them misunderstand you. You don’t need to be understood or liked by everyone. Someone else’s opinion of you is none of your business. This quote comes to mind that I think about often, “There’s always a chance of you being the villain in someone else’s story.”
This is all to say, learn to forgive yourself. As long as you are learning from your mistakes and apologizing when you are wrong, you aren’t a terrible person.
I guarantee you, that whatever you did that you feel is so horrible, there are people who have done the same thing and have gone on living their lives. Don’t let yourself be a prisoner of your own guilt. When you’re looking back at fucked up shit you did and cringing, that is a sign of growth, because your morals don’t align with your actions. You must forgive yourself and move on. Don’t punish yourself forever.
I wish I could tell you how to forgive yourself, how to accept and move on, but I’m still working on that myself. But something that makes me feel a little better is telling myself that my mistakes aren’t a life sentence. A fresh start is a mental construct. Tomorrow can be a blank slate if I want it to be. Today I will text my friends and tell them I love them. Today I will go outside and smile at everyone I pass. Today I will offer help to my family. Maybe I did something shitty yesterday, but I can always try to be a little better than I was yesterday.
TL;DR: Forgive yourself. Stop mulling over your mistakes and cringe-worthy moments. Everyone fucks up and does embarrassing shit sometimes. Accept the things you can’t change (like the past, or how others view you) and focus on what’s in your locus of control (like how you treat people in the present). You are not a terrible person, you’re just a learning what it means to be human.
18 notes · View notes
thesebright-lights · 1 year ago
Text
There was a creator I followed (I still follow him, actually) that posted videos that were essentially fan fiction of a game with a self-insert OC. Was it cringe? Yes, but myself and a number of other people really enjoyed it.
See, a year before he was cancelled, this guy actually did something problematic- he said some ignorant things about sexual assault, but ended up resolving things privately with the individuals involved (I believe all but one accepted his apology).
What happened is he tried and failed to talk about something he didn’t understand. What people not even involved in the situation did was take this as an opportunity to make stuff up and cancel him. Basically someone started a rumor saying he a was pedophile- and when I say rumor, I *do* mean rumor. Nobody even accused him of anything. It was literally just “I saw a tweet/tiktok/etc where someone said they heard he was a pedophile”. The only “proof” people ever provided was that he shipped his self-insert OC with an 18 year old character from the game he did that fanfic RP with. Before you ask, no, she isn’t a lolicon or anything like that. There’s no way you could mistake her for a child. Their reasoning was that “18 is practically still a minor”, therefore, pedophile.
The thing is, this guy never got mad about criticism. He’d actually listen to the most absurd things, the reason he got into hot water in the first place was because people were threatening to cancel him if he DIDNT talk about that instance of sexual harassment, even though he didn’t know anyone involved in it- it just happened to involve creators that played the same video game. He didn’t even fight back against the pedophile rumors- he just said on a more private platform that he’s leaving social media until he can figure out how to make things right. How messed up is that.
My point is, people will ruin your life for nothing more than being “cringe”. They literally don’t care about the person behind screen. And if you fight back against these people? You just give them all the more reason to do these things. Its so messed up.
I think more creators should openly tell their fans to fuck off and stop being weird
108K notes · View notes
doevademe · 2 years ago
Note
Then without further ado 🤑
Prompt: adult and married Percy and Nico meeting their younger counterparts (let s say the ones from after the whole not my type incident) go craaaazy, sorry if it s not an easy one . I just hope you ll take a comedic approach to it but that s your choice.
"YOU!" The teen pointed at him once he saw him. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"
Percy sighed and passed by his seventeen year old self and straight towards fifteen year old Nico. The little son of Hades shrugged, as if to say, 'what do you expect of me?' and walked towards the car.
"Sorry about this, Wise Girl," he apologized. "I swear I was watching them, but I guess I forgot how slippery I can be."
"You forgot a lot of things, Percy, if you're even Percy anymore!" his younger self kept accusing. "Why did you guys break up?!"
"Just... give me a heads up next time something like this happens," Annabeth said. "Just a few minutes with him and I remember why we broke up,"
Young Percy looked at her, betrayal in his eyes.
Percy took advantage of his shock and dragged him to the car, speeding off before he could try and jump out.
When the boys had appeared in front of him and Nico at home, his husband almost suffered an aneurysm. When Young Percy had asked where Annabeth was, as she would know how to take them back, Percy had been stupid enough to let it slip that they had broken up.
Cue his younger self running away to find her and find out what happened, with Young Nico following behind, to make sure he was safe.
"What did you do?" Young Percy asked, calmer this time. "Tell me so I never make the same stupid mistake!"
"It wasn't a mistake," Percy said, getting angry despite himself. "You just don't know how things will go until they happen."
"Maybe that's why I'm here, then," Young Percy explained, desperate. "To make sure this Bad Future doesn't happen."
"Then why am I here?" Nico spoke up. Percy immediately whipped his head back. He was still panicking, but now all his attention was centered on Nico. "The only thing I know about my future is that I am in your house."
And gods, was his seventeen year old self an idiot. How did he not notice himself forgetting the world just by listening to Young Nico's words? How did he justify his eyes following the movements of his hands like it was hypnotic?
Denial was one hell of a drug.
"Why wouldn't you be here? Or at my house? We're friends," Percy answered like it was the most natural thing in the world. "And right now, it's us against the future."
Nico said nothing, but he gave him a small smile. Young Percy relaxed.
"So, how did it happen?" he asked again once they were by the house.
"I fell in love with someone else," Percy said honestly. Young Percy's eyes widened. He obviously thought it impossible. "I was... about your age, really, but didn't notice it until much later, when that person was already taken."
"Well, I don't like anybody but Annabeth, so that means this future won't come to pass."
"Oh, it will, you just don't know it yet," Nico, older Nico, said as he leaned against the car. Young Percy jumped on his seat. "Welcome back, Percy. Was little me good?"
"I'm not ten," Young Nico complained. He looked at his older self. "Do you know why we're here?"
His husband shook his head.
"Afraid not, but good news is, I don't remember being thrown into the future and meeting my older self, so you guys probably won't remember this once you get back."
"Nico! Help me!" Young Percy said. "If I won't remember, then it means I must fix this here! You have to help me get back together with Annabeth!"
No one spoke for a few seconds, and Percy saw Young Nico wince. Whether he was sad over his younger self being such a hard head, or cringing at him was a mystery Percy couldn't crack.
Nico shook his head, smiling tenderly and leaning forward slightly on the window and... well, his husband was 24 and dressed in an oversized shirt that let a lot of his collar bone and chest show. Young Percy was too mesmerized to keep talking.
But Young Nico noticed and his eyes shifted rapidly between his older self and both Percys.
The son of Poseidon gave a subtle nod, winking at him. Young Nico's face turned a deep crimson. Gods, he missed when Nico used to do that.
"When you grow up, you'll understand why it ended," Nico said gently. Young Percy, cheeks a little red, nodded dumbly. Percy was sure that, at that point, his husband could make his younger self to jump to his doom faster than any siren. "Now come on, I made some ravioli I'm sure you guys will love. I remembered mamma's recipes," he added for his younger self's sake, who wouldn't stop sneaking glances at both Percys.
"Wait, so this is your house? Where do I live, then?"
Nico looked at Young Percy for a second and gave him what Percy knew as his 'I'm seducing you' smile. Young Nico looked escandalized.
"Where do you think, Percy?" he said in a low whisper. His younger self's eyes widened in horror.
"I... I don't like... do I? B-but you said, I mean, he said I... that I wasn't his—" he looked between the Nicos, probably seeing his version for the first time as well. "I'm not hungry!"
"Percy, wait!"
Their younger versions ran into the house. Percy would probably hide in their room and see all the evidence of their relationship, while Nico would try to calm Percy down, who, now with the idea in his mind, wouldn't be able to stop thinking about his Nico that way.
"That was evil," Percy said, chuckling. Nico smirked back.
"Maybe," Nico admitted. "But he was the one who suggested breaking our marriage, so he deserves it."
69 notes · View notes
lyraoftheevergreens · 2 years ago
Text
In The Morning
Chapter 4
Professor!Snape x Female Student Reader
Summary: What happens when Snape falls in love with a 7th year student at hogwarts just 8 years after the death of his first love. What will happen when she discovers the darkest sides of him and brings up trauma from her own past. Will she stay with him despite what she learns? Reader is of age.
Warnings: she/her pronouns. Mentions of eating. Mentions of abuse and torture. NSFW.
Word count: 2,400
Tag list: Open 🖤
Authors Story Note: In The Deathly Hallows Narcissa Malfoy mentions that Draco is home for spring break when the the golden trio are taken to Malfoy Manor. So they do have a spring break in Harry Potter, the duration I’m unaware of, so I’ve given them a week.
authors note: I AM SO SORRY!! I apologize for the fact that it has taken me 2 months to post the next chapter of In The Morning. I’m sorry and i hope you guys enjoy this chapter. There are some parts that make me cringe a little and I wish I could have come up with something better for you all.
Spring break.
Y/n woke up that morning with frustration and dread flooding her mind. One week. Just her and Severus. This man she knew nothing about consumed her every thought. The man she touches herself to as she lays in bed late at night craving his touch. What did she know about him? He was a professor here at Hogwarts. She trusted him. He makes her feel comfortable around him. For two months she opened up the most private parts of herself to this man. The only man to have touched and worshiped her body in ways she had only dreamed of. She fooled herself into believing she knew everything about him. Those late-night dinners where she talked about herself endlessly like a blabbering fool. Your not that interesting, she thought to herself. To consumed by her downward spiral of self-deprecating thoughts she forgot she was supposed to meet him that morning for their first breakfast together of the spring break. She looked at the delicate silver watch on her wrist, one hour late. She quickly dressed in dark blue jeans. A black sweatshirt and of course her necklace. Her hair was thrown messily in a bun and she ran out quickly to his living quarters. Already late she entered without knocking and found Severus sat alone shoulders shrugged forward at the table and chairs set for two. He appeared as though he’d been crying.
“I’m so sorry Sev.” She said walking quickly to the table and taking her seat in front of him.
“It's okay.” He said still looking down. Y/n reached over and took his hand in her two.
“What’s wrong?” She asked rubbing her thumbs over the top of his hand.
“It seems I’ve fallen victim to my thoughts.”
“I as well this morning. Please. Tell me yours?” She pleads with such need in her eyes.
“You're usually so punctual that when you were 10 min late I had assumed you overslept given it was the first day of the break. 30 minutes went by and I could hear students in the corridor I had hoped you would come through that door any minute. But when the voices disappeared and you were nowhere to be seen I assumed the worst. But now here you are.”
“What did you truly think.”
“That’s enough of this. Let’s eat, I’ll heat the food.”
“No Severus. Please, this is the most you’ve opened up to me, I’ve only ever received pieces of you.”
“I was scared. I was scared you left. I was scared you changed your mind. I was scared you were done with me. You graduate in June and I wouldn’t blame you if you left your old professor behind as well.”
“Severus, you are not just my professor.”
“Oh yes, I’m the man who makes you cum a few nights a week.”
“You will not talk to me like that. I have asked you time and time again to open up to me and you shut me down. I want to know you! I want to love you and you won't let me! You don’t let me in!”
“What do you want to know Y/n!”
“Everything!”
“No!”
“Why not!”
“This was a mistake.”
“Come off your high horse and tell me the fucking truth.” They’re both stood up at this point having a yelling match at each other.
“God! I don’t know what to fucking believe from you. Either you are scared to lose me or you don’t want me. Make up your damn mind.” She yelled at him again.
“Fuck!” He shouted walking away. He turned his back to her and stood there staring at his desk stacked with parchment. Y/n walked to him and rubbed his lower back he turned. His scared face and glossy eyes met hers as streamed down her face. She managed to choke out,” opening up to me won't cause you to lose me. Shutting me out will, do you want to lose this before it has even begun? Because I don’t.”
“What do you want to know first.” He said with pain in his voice.
“Really?”
“Yes.” Y/n grabbed his hand and lead him over to the edge of the bed where they sat facing one another.
“It’s gonna sound childish.” She said looking at the ground.
“It's okay, ask me.”
“Why can’t I see you naked when you see me naked nearly every night.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not,” Y/n asked her voice breaking tears threading to spill.
“I’ve already lost someone I loved deeply because of it and I can’t lose you too.”
“Severus.” She paused and got off the bed to sit on his lap. Her fingers ran threw his black soft hair, she could tell he washed it that morning by how soft it was, she gently wiped his tears with her fingers and put her head on his chest, and whispered,” how many times do I have to tell you, you won't lose me.” His arms wrapped around her tight as he sobbed into her shoulder terrified of the possibilities that flooded his mind. His sobs were those of someone grieving. Preparing himself for the fact is she might leave after he shows her this, he cried mourning the loss of a relationship that had just begun. Something that could have been great. Once he settled down he unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve on his left arm and rolled up his sleeve. When Severus finished rolling up his sleeve y/n was met with what she feared.
“When.”
“ I was 17. I was troubled as a boy and got heavily into the dark arts. I joined the wrong group of people. I just wanted friends. And then after Hogwarts.”
“What sort of people did you hang around with?”
“Lucius Malfoy.”
“Do you know my father?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been to y/l/n Manor.”
“Y/n please.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Yes.” By then she was off of his lap and sat back on the bed.
“Were you there when they tortured Elouise.”
“Yes.”
“Oh-.” She choked on her cry as she sobbed into her hands.
“Did you help them?” She asked once she managed to control her sobs.
“No. I didn’t. I’ve only ever tortured one person, it was a man in his 30s. I had to prove myself to the dark lord.”
“The dark lord. Do you actually believe in blood supremacy?”
“No, I don’t.” He said with urgency and worry in his voice.
“You were there. At Christmas time when I was 7 weren’t you. You were the boy that was wandering the halls and conjured a stuffed lamb for me.”
“How do you remember that.”
“You were there with Lucius Malfoy. The Christmas Eve death eater meeting. For years they were at y/l/n manor. Until Voldemort fell.” By now Y/n was passing the room thinking back to her days at y/l/n Manor. The death eater meetings when her mother would keep y/n and her older sister in their shared bedroom. When Eloise used to read to her.
“Don’t say his name!” He pleaded with her.
“Why shouldn't I. He’s gone is he not?”
“He could come back.”
“And would you return?”
“If I do it's to keep you safe. When you came to Hogwarts it was my second year teaching, I became a teacher here to feed information on the dark lord to Dumbledore.”
“Do you fear him?”
“I care for you more than I fear him.”
“My father used to talk of you. The dark lords' teenage companion. My father tried for the position of the dark arts at Hogwarts before you became a professor and was denied. Then you became the potions master and my father was enraged. He still doesn’t like you. Before when I used to return home he would say such awful things about the school, and all the professors truly. But every sentence finished the same. I’m glad you are in Slytherin, when the dark lord returns he will be proud. At least one of my daughters turned out alright.”
“Did you recognize me when I arrived here?” She asks him
“Yes, you looked the same as you were then.” He wanted so much to tell her that she was safe here when she arrived and saw the fear in her eyes. The same fear in his when he was a child.
“Why me Severus.”
“You were so timid when you arrived but I knew how bright you were from seeing you as a child at your parents' house. When you got upset with me constantly singling you out, I thought good. Maybe you would finally come out of your shell. I remember how sad you were your first year here I grew accustomed to keeping an eye on you. Then eventually I would watch you laugh with your friend at the table and then I found myself enchanted by the sound of your laugh, your smile, and the way your eyes squint. The tears that come out the sides of your eyes from laughing so hard. Usually at your own jokes.” Y/n found herself smiling at the man who hypnotized her with his words.
“Why were you a spy for Dumbledore?” She asked now standing in front of him.
“To keep Lilly safe.”
“Lilly Potter?”
“Yes. She was my only friend when I went to Hogwarts. I ruined it though. When I heard the dark lord was after her family I went to Dumbledore asking him to keep her safe and he wanted a favor in return. I fed him information in return for her and her family's safety. It didn’t work though, in the end, their secret keeper gave away their location.”
“You said you loved her deeply.”
“As a friend.” He said caressing her cheek.
“I hated those death eater meetings.”
“I hate them too.”
“Thank you.”
“For what my dear?”
“Opening up to me.”
“I know my past brings up some things for you as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if you left and never came back to me.”
“Severus Snape.” She began as she made her way back on top of his lap. Both hands in his hair, behind his head.”Your past and my issues are just that, in the past. I’m here, and I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. It’s gonna take a lot more than a dark mark to get rid of me.” With his arms wrapped around her body, he kissed her so softly yet with such passion and need. Y/n deepened the kiss as her tongue pushed past his lips. Their tongues danced as Severus laid back with Y/n on top of him. She moved from a sitting position on his lap to laying on top of him. Her hands worked to undo the front buttons of his shirt. Once he felt the brisk air on his abdomen he grabbed her wrist abruptly.
“No Y/n.” He said sternly.
“Sev.” She said pouting at him with pleading eyes.
“Once you graduate. I promise you, darling.”
“Okay.” She said resuming their passionate make-out. Severus sat up and removed his shirt. Still in his lap y/n ran her hands up his torso starting at his abdomen, moving to his chest, over both his shoulders and down his arms stopping at the dark mark.
“Can I touch it?” She asked.
“Yes.” With that, she used a single finger and traced the snake's body, and resumed her adoration of Snape’s body. Pushing his shoulders back gently so he would lay back down. She kissed from his mouth down his neck to his abdomen and stopped at the bulge in his pants. She gently left a single kiss on his clothed bulge. With his right hand, he cupped her cheek. She understood what he needed bringing her face back to his, and their lips reconnected. Severus wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them both over so he was now on top. He removed her sweatshirt with ease revealing nothing underneath.
“Looks like someone suspected they would be undressed the remainder of the day.”
“I know of no such thing.” She said with a slight giggle as Severus went on to remove her pants.
Nothing ensued the rest of the day. They lay in bed together enjoying the feel of one another. When they both fell asleep peacefully in each other’s arms. It was Severus who was startled awake from the peaceful nap by the wet feeling he felt on his chest and Y/n’s trembling body on top of his.
“Darling wake up.” He said lowly rubbing her back and trying to wake her up.
“Y/n please wake up.” He said getting louder. Finally, he sat up pulling her into his lap and gently shaking her by the shoulders.
“Y/n wake up!” His final attempt woke her up. She began gasping for air. And then began to cry into Severus's chest.
“What happened?” He asked her in a gentle soothing voice.
“I-I-I was-was back at home.” She struggled to catch her breath and explain what happened in the nightmare. “I was 7 again. Eloise was screaming. I was in a dark room. I couldn’t get out. He was there. Vol- and Lucius Malfoy.” Now able to breathe she began again.” for years until I began here my father would have me perform a series of tasks to “strengthen my abilities” is what he would say. Lock me in a dark room and see if I could get out. As I got older the space got smaller. The month before I started at Hogwarts he locked me in the chest. Eloise used to beg and scream for them not to do this to me. They used the cruciatus curse on her countless times for years. For years all I knew were the dark curses my father used on others.”
“I’m sorry you had to experience that.”
“That’s why I can’t go back, Severus. If I go back I have to marry Amon Delahaye. He used the killing curse on his first wife and it was covered up when you know who infiltrated the ministry.”
“Yes, I know him. I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to marry him.” He said pulling Y/n closer to him and leaving a kiss on her forehead. A million thoughts raced through his head. First, he needs to tell Dumbledore.
70 notes · View notes
ignitedbynatsu · 4 years ago
Text
He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Rogue
A/N: let it be known that I finally managed to update at the deadline I set myself 🥳 I'm so sorry I was gone this past week but college was getting hella busy so I had to focus on that this past week but I'm backkk. Thanks to everyone who stuck around, I missed you all and can't wait to get to the requests ❤️
Genre: angst to fluff
Warnings: swearing, insecurities (he makes you feel too childish)
Other versions:
Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
A loud crash could be heard followed by your and Sting's laughter filling the guild. You quickly fled the scene and hid behind Rogue while stifling your laughter.
You had played the oldest prank in the book on Minerva. A water bucket on a half-open door. You'll never understand how the brilliant mage fell for that one, but she did, resulting in you hiding from her wrath.
"(Y/N)! Sting!" Minerva screeched as the water dripped down her hair.
"We're sorry Minerva-san, we just couldn't pass the opportunity" you apologize on your and Sting's behalf, but it was nowhere near sincere As you both were still doing everything in your power to not burst out in laughter. It wasn't even that funny, but to you and Sting it was hilarious.
"I swear I'm dating a child" the annoyance that was latched on to the words made you immediately stop laughing. Surely he didn't mean for it to come out that harsh, right?
"I'm sorry, what was that" a soft smile still playing on your lips, but that was quickly wiped off when you met his cold gaze.
"I said that you're fucking childish, (Y/N). It was bad enough having Sting act this way, but with you encouraging him and even joining him? I feel like I'm in a fucking daycare. Grow up, will you" Sting laughter also died down as he saw his friend take his frustrations out on you. "Hey, man, that's not cool-"
"No, Sting, it's fine. I- uh- I'll see you all tomorrow" even Minerva shook her head in disappointment as she observed your slumped shoulders as you left the guild. She didn't miss the tears starting to form either.
The rest of the day everyone felt that they were walking on eggshells around Rogue, not daring to get on his bad side. They felt bad for you. Sure you could be a little annoying with all the pranks you pulled, but they all knew it was just good fun. You never meant any harm and just wanted to make the guild feel a little more like home.
That homeyness that you seemed to bring everywhere you went, was gone the next day. Your usual colourful outfits were replaced by dull grey and black clothes. They even were certain that they hadn't seen you crack a smile once that day.
"Hey, (Y/N)! I got this amazing idea for a prank and-" you interrupted Sting before he could elaborate his grand idea "thank you, Sting, but I'll have to decline."
You had never refused a prank before, nor had he ever heard you talk that formal "that's it"
You raised an eyebrow at him as he stormed off to God knows where.
You hated turning him down. After all, you had been itching all day to break this facade, but it was for the best. It'll pay off in the long run you kept telling yourself. After all, you couldn't imagine a world where you'd have to live without Rogue. So if that meant you'd have to change your personality a little bit, you wouldn't even hesitate to make that sacrifice.
Meanwhile, Sting had left to go find Rogue. He knew that his best friend was the only one who could put an end to this "is this what you wanted?"
"I have no clue what you are talking about" Rogue replied as he turned around to meet the fuming blonde.
"You seriously don't see how miserable you made (Y/N)?" He scoffed as Rogue looked around to spot you. It took him some time as he did not expect you to wear something so... Colourless. "You haven't even spoken to her today, have you?"
"I decided that I was way out of line yesterday and that I should give her some time" he explained. Did you really think you needed to change just to please him?
"How kind of you" Rogue was surprised by the sweet words coming out of Sting's mouth, but when he turned back to the said boy he was met by a harsh glare "now go fix it"
"What if I make it worse" the guilty was slowly eating him alive as he dared to steal another glance at you.
"You can't possibly make it worse than it already is" Sting dismissed his insecurities
"Fro thinks so too!" Rogue's head snapped towards the Exceed "Frosch?"
"It's three against one here" Lector also piped up as the three stared at him expectingly.
The raven-haired sighed, knowing he should do something to fix his mistakes, so he took a deep breath, gathered all his courage and headed towards his girlfriend. He never thought he'd feel this scared again to talk to you.
"(Y/N)... Can we talk?" He wanted to sound confident but when you looked at him and not even spared him a small smile, he felt like he wanted to sink back into the shadows.
"Of course, what is it you'd like to talk with me about?" Rogue cringed how smooth your tone was. No unnecessary intonation, no shouting, no expression. Everything was dull and blank.
"Why are you acting like this" your eyes went wide for a second. Were you still not living up to his expectations? Was it too little? Too much? You had no clue.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you are talking about" you replied swiftly, covering up any traces of emotions you had just shown. "Did you not want me to stop acting like a child?"
"Yes, but-" "and is what I'm doing not exactly that what you asked me to do?" "Yeah... But-" Rogue was getting frustrated, but he knew he had no right to snap at you again.
"Then I don't see the relevance of this conversation. I'll be heading home now. I'll see you tomorrow" with that you placed a kiss on his cheeks and headed back out of the guild.
Rogue's attempts at covering up his frustration were in vain as you could read him like an open book. Afraid to get yelled at again you hastily decided to head back home. Ready to scream or punch something just to get your own frustrations out.
After the failed attempts of him making it up to you, you managed to put up your facade for a week, until one day you just didn't show up. You didn't notify Sting or Rogue in advance, which you normally do, you were just too tired to deal with anyone.
"Has (Y/N) told you she wasn't coming today?" Rogue's anxiety was through the roof. He nearly burned a whole town to the ground when he lost Frosch. Imagine what he'd do if he didn't know where you, his significant other was. "No"
"I'm going to her house" with that Rogue left in an attempt to find you. Luckily for him, you were indeed just at your house.
Your stomach dropped at the sound of someone knocking at your door. You were tired, no, exhausted even. You hated that you had to pretend that you were someone that you're not, but it was all for a good cause you kept telling yourself, and yet you couldn't muster the energy to keep up that facade.
"(Y/N)? Please tell me your home" your heart broke at the sound of his voice. The worry and desperateness were caused because of you. Once again you were not good enough.
You opened the door ever so slightly, just enough, so he could make out that it was in fact you. "Thank God you're here"
"I'm sorry for not giving a heads-up. I promise I'll be back tomorrow" you promised him as you were about to shut the door again, but he stopped you by placing his own hand against the door.
"(Y/N), please, we need to talk" you contemplated for a minute, weighing the pros and the cons "please"
You slowly opened the door further as a signal for him to come in.
The sight in front of him shattered his heart. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your figure was completely slouched and your arms were wrapped around your middle, hugging yourself, in an attempt to shield yourself away from.
"I'm sorry I probably look like a cry baby right now-" he stopped you before you could finish your excuse "hey, no, none of that"
"I want to tell you something and I need you to listen without you interrupting me, okay?" You nodded your head at his request and waited patiently as he continued. "First and foremost I'd like to apologize for my behaviour last week. I shouldn't have worked out my frustration on you and I shouldn't have attacked you like that."
You nodded your head at his apology "second, I want you to know that you should never change your personality. Especially not for me. I love you, (Y/N). And when I say that, I mean every piece of you. Your good and your bad traits. If fell in love with you for who you are, and not the person you've been portraying as the last week."
"Please go back to your old self. I'd rather have a childish person as my girlfriend than a fraud that's clearly exhausted by putting on a facade. I really am sorry for making you feel like you had to change for me" by now you were full-on crying. Maybe it was because of Rogue's kind words, maybe it was because of the exhaustion, maybe a bit of both. All you cared about now was being in his arms and feeling loved.
"It's okay" you whispered as placed your head on his chest as he planted a kiss on your head.
"It really isn't. That's why I'd like to make it up to you" you broke the hug to look up at him as a mischievous glint was sparkling in his eyes "how about we prank Sting?"
"I'd love to, but for now let's just watch a film and cuddle" you smiled at his idea as you had never pranked Sting before since you always prank others together.
"Anything for you, princess" that's how you spend the rest of your evening in each other's arms, with him reassuring you every once in a while that he loves you and that you should never change.
747 notes · View notes
arteyhumano299 · 4 years ago
Text
You Keep Me Waitin’
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: Feel Better (9k words)
Summary: Kagami and Marinette aren't that close— they’re friendship is relatively new and there's still some unresolved tension. Kagami has just experienced heart break for the first time, and her mother’s expectations are beginning to weigh on her. Marinette’s duties are doing a similar number on her, and painful realizations have also left her heartbroken. They realize they can use each other as an excuse to flee from their troubling lives. In each other they find unexpected comfort, and soon they're closer than either could have expected.
Available on Ao3 , fanfic.net , and Wattpad
Notes:
First fanfic I'm publishing in a while. So I made the creative decisions to make the characters slightly older, around 17,16 ish. It's just cause it makes me uncomfortable to write sexual tension between 14-15 year olds. Also, this fic takes place right after the break ups so like season 4, ep 2. I can't promise consistent updating schedule but I'm committing to this fic. This first chapter is pretty long, I don't have a set words per chapter limit so the chapters might be all over the place. Anyway. Enjoy :)
Kagami feels hollow. She felt hollow as she closed the door of the locker room. She felt hollow as she walked out of Françoise Dupont. She felt hollow as she made her way down the stone steps at the entrance of the collège. The sound of her shoes making contact with the ground made Kagami feel especially hollow —the only sound that rang in her ears. Said shoes carried her to Tatsu's red door. Eyes found the car’s window, Kagami grimaced at her own reflection.
She clutched Tatsu’s handle and swung the backseat door open, hoping to flee from her own eyes. Her head hung low, eyes on her lap, as she closed the door. Slowly, she lifted her head to face the window and the collège’s front gates. She took a deep breath before turning her eyes forward. “Take me home, Tatsu.”
The collège disappeared as Tatsu moved forward. Kagami exhaled. Her hands found their way into her fencing bag and she slowly retrieved her phone from the bundle of clothes and protein bars. She steeled herself as her phone lit up. The screen read 6:09 against a familiar picture Kagami had taken that day at the San Martin Canal. They were seated at the canal’s edge, Adrien’s chin smudged with ice cream and Kagami smiling giddily at having caught this momentary clumsiness. Adrien, oblivious to the desert decorating his face, grinning at the camera and leaning close to her. She pursed her lips as she felt a pang to her chest, and opened settings with a decisive press of the home button. Their twin smiles disappeared from her lock screen, replaced with an old picture of the Eiffel Tower— one she had taken when she’d first arrived in Paris. She’d grown accustomed to it by now, but the large monument had seemed so mystical when she first saw it.
A sense of exhaustion came over her and she let her neck fall backwards. Head falling on the seat’s headrest, the car’s ceiling filled her vision.
Had this been a mistake?
Kagami had always been rational. Her mother valued logic above all, putting her stakes only in what she could hope to benefit from. Mother had taught this principle to Kagami at an early age, and Kagami had taken it to heart. She put a lot of effort into her passions, assured that her work would pay off. She took her future seriously, recognizing that it would reflect all of her present decisions. She didn’t goof off or blow off responsibilities. She did her best to control her sometimes reckless personality. She wasn’t disobedient. And she certainly didn’t waste her time in mindless relationship games. But here she was now. Kagami had gone about dating Adrien the way she did most things: straight to the point, and with a set goal in mind. She had been decisive, and she wasted no time dancing around her feelings, thinking that it would pay off, like all other things had in her life. Sitting alone in a car, heartbroken, had not been the outcome she predicted. Could she have miscalculated?
Somewhere inside herself, she understood that she had been very clear about her feelings, and had worked hard to maintain their relationship– at times, even foolishly bended some of her values just to get closer to him. Adrien had been the one to lie, and had always been more apprehensive with his affection, like he was holding back and holding on at the same time. Right now though, Kagami doubted herself. She’d never been the type to, but maybe while she was blinded by her affections for Adrien, she’d lost herself.
Her mother would be disappointed. Kagami hadn’t exactly told her of their relationship, and thinking of the times she did stuff she would disapprove of just to spend time with Adrien, Kagami wasn’t sure if she wanted to. God.
Kagami had been so eager to get closer to Adrien, and latched on as soon as Adrien began to reciprocate her stares, she had acted foolishly hadn’t she?
Her eyes eventually found the window again, but she regretted it as soon as her eyes laid on the glossy dark waters of the San Martin Canal. She saw the green leaves of trees painted on the water’s surface.
Something coiled in her chest.
“Tatsu, stop.”
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Kagami pushed the car door open and exited onto the aligned stone slabs of the sidewalk. The door closed behind her, body facing the canal. A breeze swept Kagami’s bangs out of her face, drying the prickle of tears at the edge of her eyes. She walked closer to the canal and peered at her figure reflected on the water, her hands bunched in her skirt. The water was too far away for any of her features to be distinguishable but she stared at her reflection– her head of dark hair a blob dancing on the canal’s ripples. Her fists slowly unclenched and she lowered herself to the canal’s edge.
As her eyes followed the ripple of the water, Kagami wondered if getting overly self conscious about this break up was what was irrational. Obviously most relationships ended, and she couldn't expect her first lover to be her last. A memory of telling ladybug her and Adrien were meant to be crossed Kagami’s mind. She grimaced, cringing at the memory. Kagami had said it with bold certainty, confident that there was something special between them–an understanding she’d never experienced with anyone else. She hoped that maybe… that would be the case, once Adrien was ready he would apologize and realize what she had long ago. He didn’t trust her now though, so what assured her he ever would. Maybe the wound was too fresh to wonder about the future.
Kagami closed her eyes and felt another gust of wind flutter against her eyelids. She stood back up and began to walk along the canal.
As she walked further and further from Tatsu, she began to realize another issue. Was she going to ignore Adrien? She had told him she didn’t want to stay friends. Adrien’s distrust had stung her deeply– she had, after all, put a lot of energy and time into their relationship, and just returning to their old dynamic felt wrong. Were they just supposed to not acknowledge any of the remaining tension?
Adrien hiding stuff from her would sting regardless of their relationship, she cared very deeply for him– friend or lover. Kagami had to remind herself: don’t waste time and energy on fruitless efforts. If Adrien wasn’t gonna let up, Kagami would stop giving him the time of day. The opportunity to hurt her. She felt justified in her harshness, though Adrien was one of the only friends she’d ever had. Kagami began to wonder if any of this would seem ridiculous to someone more understanding and emotionally intelligent– Kagami admitted she felt short in that regard.
She admittedly was too caught up thinking of ways to figure this out to pay much attention to her surroundings. Mid thought, something slammed into her, or rather she slammed into someone. Kagami stumbled backwards, almost losing her footing but catching herself at the last minute. As soon as she regained her balance she looked up at the offended party to apologize. She was met with a familiar pair of blue bell eyes. Before she could muster up a ‘sorry’, Marinette beat her to it.
“Kagami! I’m so sorry! I was distracted and wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Her face was somewhat obstructed by boxes stacked on her arms- which she noticed were now off center.
“I’m sorry too, Marinette; I was also distracted.”
Marinette readjusted the boxes. “No, it was probably more on me. My limbs seem to have a mind of their own, a lot of people have fallen victim to my clumsiness.” Marinette’s face scrunched embarrassment.
“Well you are the one carrying boxes, I just bypassed pedestrian etiquette in my mindless daydreaming.”
Kagami could make out Marinette’s smile even with the obstruction to her face.
“That’s just like you to think getting distracted is a lapse of ‘pedestrian etiquette’.” She chuckled at Marinette’s phrasing of ‘pedestrian etiquette’. Marinette’s eyes peered at her quizzically.
“Are you alone, Kagami?”
“I am.”
That seemed to confuse Marinette as she looked around Kagami.
“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you walking down the San Martin Canal?”
Kagami looked back to the canal’s waters.
“I suppose...”, She tried to find an excuse as she faced Marinette again, " I thought the walk would be some nice, light exercise.” Marinette raised an eyebrow at her.
“Right after fencing? Shouldn’t you be having a meal?”
She was surprised that Marinette had any knowledge in the dietary guidelines of athletes. She’d never mentioned partaking in any active hobby to Kagami.
“I was just trying it out. ''
Marinette still seemed confused but shrugged and didn’t press further. Kagami’s eyes shifted to the boxes Marinette was still carrying.
“And you? Is there a reason you’re walking down a canal with an armful of boxes?”
Marinette seemed to remember what she was holding as her eyes flickered to the packages in front of her.
“Oh, right. I’m just making a delivery for the bakery.”
Kagami was now the one to question her with a raised eyebrow.
“On foot? With that tall of a stack?”
Her expression turned sheepish. “Bad idea in retrospect, considering my clumsiness and all.”
Kagami couldn’t help but smile. “What if I help you?”
Marinette’s eyes widened. “With my delivery?”
Kagami nodded.
“What about your light exercise?”
“Whether it be going home or making a delivery I’m still walking.”
Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Oh, uh, guess you’re right.”
She approached Marinette and reached for the top couple of boxes, taking them into her arms and waiting for Marinette to readjust her arms again.
“Okay, it’s only two blocks from here.”
Marinette began to walk and Kagami moved to follow her pace.
“Do you often make deliveries for your parents’ bakery?”
“When they need to be done yeah; it’s my way of helping out.”
Kagami looked at her profile, her pigtails more hastily tied than usual and her cheeks a paler pink than she was used to.
“Have they been keeping you busy?”
“Ah, no more than usual.”
Marinette met her eyes momentarily and Kagami wondered if those were eyebags under her eyes.
“They try not to be too demanding.”
“Really?... Have you been testing lately?”
She saw Marinette turn to her and could almost feel her puzzlement.
“Uh, no?...”
Marinette faced the walkway again.
“Why do you ask?”
“I just haven’t heard from you lately.”
There was a pause.
“I’ve just been caught up in some stuff.”
Kagami sensed she didn’t want to elaborate so she kept her questions to herself.
“Well, It’s nice to see you, even in a somewhat odd situation.”
“I’m glad to see you too.”
Her smile became soft.
“I haven’t seen much of you either, but I understand you’ve also been… busy.”
The silence that followed hung for a second too long. Kagami wasn’t sure how she should interpret that— she’d never explicitly told Marinette about her and Adrien, but they hadn’t really hid their affection. “I…” Kagami sighed. “Yeah, I have been distracted with other… stuff.”
The silence continued and Kagami considered even noting the weather to fill it. Before she could stew in the silence any longer, Marinette cut through it with a boldness she wasn’t accustomed to seeing from her.
“How are things with Adrien?”
Kagami suddenly felt very insecure and the packages of pastries in her arms felt heavier.
“We weren’t very subtle were we?”
Marinette considered her question.
“You two have been getting pretty chummy for a while.”
“... I can see what you mean.”
“You know, it’s okay. I just really hope you don’t drop me, so you guys better not stop hanging out with me.”
Marinette’s attempt at lightening the mood was stunted by the tension. Kagami was too preoccupied with finding the right response to care.
“Well, of course, I wouldn’t abandon our relationship for Adrien.”
Kagami was too consumed in her nerves to notice the change in tone of Marinette’s silence.
“You don’t have to worry about my schedule being full though.”
Marinette laughed.
“Kagami, it’s natural for couples to spend a lot of time together, you don’t have to make time you don’t have for me. Don’t worry, I have other people I can get orange juice with.” She swallowed.
“I don’t doubt you do.”
They approached a crossroad and Marinette turned, Kagami following after her. She let it out before she decided against it.
“What I meant to say, is that you don’t have to worry about my schedule being full anymore.”
Marinette stopped abruptly but Kagami expected it. Her expression was hard to decipher.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that”, Kagami stepped closer to her. “Adrien’s no longer going to be taking up my time.”
Marinette’s eyebrows slowly furrowed, she searched her face and Kagami hoped Marinette couldn’t make out her insecurity.
“You…”
“We did.”
She faced forward once again. “It’s been the case for all of a half an hour.”
“Oh, God, Kagami, I’m so sorry.”
Kagami turned to shoot her a frown. Marinette shut her mouth before she could begin her rambling. She might not be feeling like herself but she still wasn’t below taking her pity.
“Obviously I’m still processing but quite honestly, the break up actually happened last night.”
“Oh.”
“I won’t need to see him until our next fencing lesson so I’ll have time to figure something out.”
They finally continued to walk.
“I mean, I bet Adrien will make an effort to keep things friendly.”
“That’s exactly what I fear.”
“What do you mean?”
Kagami kept her eyes forward. “I’m not planning on keeping our relationship as friendly as it was before.”
She hoped she didn’t sound bitter.
“That bad, huh?”
“Adrien made his decisions so I made mine.”
Kagami definitely sounded bitter.
“Well, then I guess you should start making time for another juice date.”
Marinette’s smile felt reassuring. She slowed down and stopped in front of a pair of glass doors. Kagami could make out a lobby from the large windows on either side.
“We’re here by the way.”
Kagami went ahead and opened one of the doors, holding it for Marinette who had the taller stack of boxes. Marinette allowed her act of chivalry and entered, Kagami following behind her. She looked around the lobby as Marinette advanced to the front desk, eyeing the cushions taking up most of the room, and wondering who had thought buying several loveseats for such a small lobby was a good idea. Marinette returned before Kagami could criticize the internal design further.
“Okay, we should be able to just go up and knock on the door.”
They made their way to the elevator and Marinette pressed the button to the fourth floor. They stood in silence for a few seconds.
“It wasn’t just me that noticed the disgusting orange loveseats was it?” Kagami smirked “I also noticed their incompatibility with the room, though I was more worried with the amount of floor plan they took up.” Marinette scoffed, “More like incompatibility with my eyes.”
This time Kagami actually laughed. The elevator doors opened and they made their way into a hallway lined with numbered doors.
“Okay, I think it was apartment 127.”
They scanned the doors until finding it: apartment 127. Kagami knocked and they waited for an answer. Kagami could hear the muted sound of rock music and laughter. Finally, the door’s handle shook and the door swung open. A short woman with brown hair dyed red stood at the entrance, her eyes taking them and their armful of boxes in.
“Oh, the pastries are here!” The woman pushed the door open further, and turned her head to the apartment.
“Arthur! Come help me with the pastries.” The woman turned back to them “Sorry, lovelies, I’ll get those off ya in a sec.” A man poked his head before joining the four of them at the entrance. He was significantly taller than the woman but had the same red hair.
“Those smell good”, he grinned.
“I can assure they taste just as good”, Marinette responded, sugar sweet, in what Kagami guessed was her customer service voice. The woman and man reached out and took the boxes from them and Kagami was glad to have the weight off her arms. She stretched them out as the woman looked through her wallet and placed some bills in Marinette’s hands. “Thank you, have a nice day, ma’am.”
“Have a nice day too, ladies.”
Marinette smiled at them as they closed the door. Then she also stretched her arms with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”
They entered the elevator, returned to the lobby, and then exited the apartment complex.
Marinette turned to her. “Thank you so much, Kagami, people don’t tend to order so much so it was probably for the best I ran into you.”
“It wasn’t a bother,” she could feel the smile on her lips, “It was also nice to catch up with you.”
Marinette grinned at her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at another time. You should probably call Tatsu, you’ve had enough exercise for today.”
“Oh, are you my trainer, Marinette?”
“I’m your friend, so I’m more important.”
Kagami couldn’t argue with that. An idea popped into her brain and she pursed her lips.
“Let me walk you home, Marinette.”
Marinette blinked at her.
“Walk me home?”
“Yes.” She nodded awkwardly, “Walk you home.”
“Shouldn't you be home by now?”
That made Kagami pause— it was true her mother would figure out her absence pretty soon.
“It’s fine, I’ll just text my mother.”
“But you must be tired, I really wasn’t kidding about the exercise thing.”
Kagami disliked when people coddled her, but Marinette’s worry did actually make her feel cared for.
“I’ll be fine, Marinette, I always make sure to carry extra protein bars in my bag.”
Kagami paused and furrowed her brows. “That is unless you’d rather walk home alone, I’m sorry if my request was brash.”
Marinette shook her hands. “No, no, I just didn’t want you to over exert yourself. I know you always give it your all at your fencing practices.”
While Kagami had had a tiring day, Marinette’s company has helped both the ache of her muscles and her chest.
“I’m not that tired, besides,” Kagami moved to stand beside her, “we haven’t talked about our juice date.” She was rewarded with a bright smile.
“Okay, fine, if you’re sure.” Marinette began to walk and Kagami was right beside her.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you where in the world you found a red lamé?”
“Well, Marinette, I pride myself in my dedication.”
They fell into step with each other, letting the conversation flow naturally. As they made their way through the streets of Paris, Kagami listened intently to Marinette’s rambling about old fabric dyeing techniques she’d been looking into. They finally found their way to Marinette’s doorstep and they waved each other goodbye.
She was aware she might return home to a lecture, but as Kagami saw Marinette enter her home, she recognized she felt better.
--------
Marinette rested her back on a chimney, her eyes raking over the other rooftops, waiting for an unexpected attack to pop out of them at any second. Chat was similarly seated next to her, though he didn’t seem quite as on edge as Marinette felt.
Now that the duo had to worry about Shadow Moth, Marinette felt like she was on edge as soon as she transformed. Chat sensed her unease, and regularly attempted to ease her tension with a lighthearted joke. Marinette appreciated his efforts, but she also didn’t want to be distracted —just in case.
She drummed her fingers on her lap and wondered if maybe they should move to a higher vantage point. Maybe they should start making their patrols more active, circling the whole city instead of just moving to a few locations and watching. If there was going to be an akumatization tonight, Marinette hoped it would appear already. Now that she had a gaggle of kwamis to look after, Marinette’s responsibilities seemed to have doubled. She really couldn’t slack off in her schoolwork, or her duties as class rep, or her obligations to the bakery— she knew wedding season was coming up so her parents were going to really need her help. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the personal issues Marinette didn’t know how to tackle. She seemed to have been able to keep a low radar so far, but any second now her friends would figure out the earlier day’s events.
Marinette really didn’t want to think about Juleka’s reaction.
Marinette’s thrumming speed up.
Chat must have seen the anxious twitch of her fingers. “You know, it’s getting late, there probably won’t be any trouble tonight.”
Her eyes flickered to the blonde. “We haven’t checked the south-eastern side of the city.”
“I can go check on my way home.”
Marinette thought about protesting, but she could make out the worry etched onto the line of his eyebrows. His mop of hair caught her eye, messier than she was usd to— almost like it was drooping. She wondered if she wasn’t the only one having a hard time.
“You go to school so you should probably get home and rest.”
“You also go to school”, Marinette noted.
Chat’s replying chuckle felt empty.
“I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon .” Marinette hoped it wasn’t defeat what she heard in his voice. She regarded his usually vibrant eyes, now dulled with an exhaustion Marinette could recognize.
“You too huh?”
Chat broke eye contact to look out at the Paris scenery. Marinette did the same, gazing at the endless darkness of the sky.
“It’s been a hard week.”
She could only hum in agreement.
Her suit protected her from the cold, but Marinette’s face felt icy in the night’s dropping temperature.
“Is it a personal problem?”
“Well, I think Shadow Moth has both of us on edge, but mostly yeah.”
Chat fiddled with the cuffs of his gloves. She’d always been a proponent of keeping everything private, only revealing what was necessary, but something about Chat’s frown bothered Marinette.
“I can listen.”
Chat’s head shot up, his expression one of surprise. Marinette tried to convey comfort through her own expression. “Really?”
“As long as you keep it vague. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
His responding smile was small, but Marinette was glad for it nonetheless.
“Well, um, okay.”
Marinette relaxed against the chimney and Chat changed his posture to face her more.
“I started seeing someone recently.”
Marinette’s eyes widened but she kept quiet.
“We were friends beforehand and I realized I liked her, so I thought it would be a good idea.” Chat exhaled. “I’m Chat Noir though, so we couldn’t keep it up.”
Understanding washed over her.
“She was pretty upset, and now… she told me she no longer wanted to have any type of relationship.”
Chat’s eyes stared at the ground(rooftop rather.) Marinette reached for him without thinking. Chat looked at the hand she placed on his shoulder, and then at her. His eyes told her he received the message:
I understand
She leaned in and hugged him. They sat like that for a few seconds, enjoying each other’s warmth, before they separated.
“I think you’re right. We should go home.”
Chat nodded and they both stood up, still facing each other.
“Chat… I know we can’t exactly hang out, but you’re my friend, so if you need anything...”
Chat nodded.
“Thank you, ladybug.”
They shared a smile before going their separate ways.
--------
Marinette was later than usual. The classroom’s tone felt different than yesterday, and Marinette read it immediately. She apologized and took her seat, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. She could feel Alya’s on her all hour though, but she kept her eyes forward. All of her attention was focused on Mme. Bustier, Marinette throwing herself into the coursework to try and ignore the impending questions. The scratch of graphite on paper worked as a background to Mme. Bustier’s voice, and it did a good job at keeping Marinette’s mind occupied with work.
So much so that Marinette almost didn’t hear the bell.
She stared through the paper in front of her, her fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand. She could feel more eyes on her now.
Recognizing that she could no longer ignore Alya, Marinette picked herself up from her hunched posture and turned to her. Like she predicted, Alya was looking right at her. She didn’t attempt to decode the emotions in the hazel of Alya’s eyes.
She stood up and Marinette knew to follow. Mylène, Rose, Alix, and Juleka were behind them as they made their way out of the classroom. Alya stopped next to a bench and sent Marinette a look, communicating to her that she should sit down. Marinette complied. She studied Alya’s face, and Marinette disliked that the tension in it looked more like worry than displeasure— Marinette didn’t want to lie to Alya when she was looking at her with concern. Alya sighed and she sat beside her, the other girls sitting around them. Marinette thrummed her fingers, waiting for Alya’s words.
She directed them at Alix though.
“Alix, would you like to tell Marinette what you told me?”
Alix met eyes with Marinette before facing Alya. “Recently I heard something from Mylène about Marinette.”
She blew a bubble with her bubblegum and it’s pop unsettled Marinette.
“I think she knows what I’m talking about.”
Marinette sighed before rubbing her arms self consciously. She looked around at their faces— they were waiting for her but Marinette didn’t know what to tell them. She remembered the walk she’d had with Kagami some days ago. Kagami had noticed her exhaustion so soon, she could only wonder how long it must have taken her best friend.
“Do you not want to tell us what happened?”
“Um, no, no, I just… It’s just complicated, I’m not sure I’m even done processing what happened.”
Alya placed a hand on her shoulder. They all understood.
“I, well. I’ll tell you.”
Marinette took a deep breath and tried to work out what parts she had to modify.
“You guys know I’ve had feelings for Adrien all year. For months I’ve had this giant crush on him.” He heard some hums of agreement.
“These past few months I’ve actually begun to talk to him, and for a while now we’ve been friends. Somewhere during that time, I started to get to know different sides of Adrien, and my feelings deepened. I began to think that maybe he could actually like me back. I felt like we were finally connecting... But I think I’ve slowly come to realize that Adrien doesn't think about me like that.” Marinette could hear her voice lowering so she coughed and looked up. “I had to come to terms that Adrien liked someone else, loved someone else.” She tried not to think about Kagami’s words.
“Luka, he was always so sweet. With Adrien, I felt like this spluttering blubbering mess.” She sighed. “No wonder he didn’t like me back, all of my clumsiness gets turned up to a hundred around him. Even once my stuttering calmed down somewhat as we became closer, I feel like a mess around him even now.”
Alya scoffed like she’d been the one to be insulted.
“Marinette, you’re so incredibly smart and clever. You’re also kind and you don’t hesitate to help others. If Adrien hasn’t realized that yet then that’s not your fault.” She tried not to think about how Adrien was all of those things, but more. Or how Kagami was also all of those things, but yet they still…
Marinette didn’t let herself dwell on it.
“That’s something Luka would have told me.”
Alya fell silent.
“Luka made me feel like I could just be. It was easy to talk to him, and when he told me he had feelings for me… I felt like maybe we could work.”
Her eyes flickered to Juleka, but her expression hadn’t changed much.
“My feelings for Adrien were hard to ignore though. I think Luka could tell.”
“I really did like Luka. I just, I feel like I got him caught up in my emotional mess and hurt him.”
Marinette stopped thrumming her fingers and dug them into the fabric of her pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I’ve been busy and I haven’t been able to reflect on the break up yet.” Marinette looked around all of them, their faces sympathetic.
Rose stood up and wrapped her arms around Marinette. She pulled back and Marinette could see tears rimming her eyes.
“You don’t have to apologize to us, Marinette.”
“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve been having a rough time”, Mylène piped up.
Alya’s hand slid from her shoulder to her back. Marinette appreciated the act of comfort.
“Thank you guys, for being understanding. I just need some time.”
“Of course, Mari, just tell us if you need some hang out buddies to turn your brain off with.” Alix didn’t join them in their huddle around the bench, but her smile was softer than her usual smirk.
“Of course”, Marinette grinned, she could feel the mood lifting. “If any of you would like to get your butts kicked in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, you know who you can call.”
Rose and Mylène giggled, parting from Marinette so she could look up at them better. Marinette couldn’t tell them everything but she genuinely felt her mood lift.
The bell rang.
Marinette felt like now she could scratch that off her list of things to worry about.
She was about to stand up as the other girls smiled and made their way back when she turned to Alya. She was staring at her intensely, like she was analyzing Marinette.
“Uh, Alya? We should make our way back.”
Alya continued to stare at Marinette. Marinette swallowed and clutched the edge of the bench. Finally, Alya crossed her arms and stood up. She didn’t move to make their way back though.
“Alya, we’re going to be late.”
“You’re still hiding something.”
Marinette’s mouth shut. Alya just continued to bore holes through her.
“H-Hiding something?”
“Luka knew you were in love with Adrien since before. He would have been fine with waiting for you to get over him.”
“But I couldn't, okay. I was hurting him and we couldn’t-”
“Marinette, I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
Marinette wanted to say she couldn’t actually. She bunched her fist in her jacket instead.
“If this is about me not being the one to tell you, I already apologized. I really am sorry, but I just wasn't in the right headspace.”
“When you’re not in the right headspace your emotions tend to spill over. You’re not the type to stew in your feelings.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her, annoyed at how factual she’d made it sound.
“Don’t act like you know everything about me, Alya.”
Alya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Marinette swallowed.
“I mean…” She sighed.
“Again, I’m not in the right headspace. Let’s just go to class.” Marinette left and didn’t look back to see if Alya followed.
--------
After class, Marinette shot some smiles at the girls. She apologized to Alya but she could tell she wanted to press further. She left before Alya could protest.
Marinette entered the bakery and greeted her parents, masking her mood with a bright smile.
“Hey Maman, hey Papa.”
“Hello, sweet buns. How was your day?”
Marinette circled the counter and joined them behind it.
“It was alright. Mme. Mendeleive started rambling about this guy called Louis Le Prince near the end of class. It was hard to follow but apparently he invented the camera before Eddison.”
Her mom smiled fondly at her.
“I didn’t know that. I hope that means she didn’t assign you any homework.”
They smirked at each other.
“You’d be right, Maman.”
Marinette didn’t say she was slightly disappointed about it. Her mind needed a distraction. And almost like she’d read her mind, her mother perked up, her expression somewhat sheepish.
“Would you be a dear and help us out with an order for waffle cookies. Me and papa are working on decorating a wedding cake.”
Marinette grinned at her mother.
“Of course, Maman.”
Her mother informed her of the specifics for the order before making her way back to her husband.
Marinette set her bag down on a corner and rolled up her sleeves, plugging in her headphones before reaching for the bottles of ingredients and bowls she would need. She scrolled through her Jagged Stone playlist as she plugged in the waffle iron, once finally settling on an album, stuffing her phone in her back pocket as she found her way back to the table. Marinette tried to get lost in the mindless task of measuring and mixing, making sure to be very meticulous so her mind could only focus on teaspoons of vanilla and cups of flour. These tasks were second nature to her anyway though, so eventually her mind wandered.
Marinette hoped that she’d be able to smooth things over with Alya tomorrow, but she knew how stubborn she could be— Alya wouldn’t stop questioning Marinette. Marinette was so tired of the lies. She’d been lying to Alya almost the entirety of their friendship, and Marinette hated that she was getting better at it. She could just continue to lie to her, it was probably what she would end up doing, but what if Marinette didn’t? What if she just told her the truth.
Marinette fumbled with the mixer before pouring her mixture of ingredients onto the mixing bowl. The sound of the mixer competed with the loud music of her headphones, but more thoughts kept crawling into her mind.
Marinette would admit that at times she wished she didn’t have to. It would be so nice to confide in someone who understood what being a highschooler was like, and who also had some experience with the whole superhero thing. The danger was obvious though. She’d be putting Alya’s security at risk, and hers as well of course. So much was at stake so she couldn’t even entertain the thought. That the weight of being Paris’ greatest superhero while being a seventeen year old high schooler was finally dawning on her.
The mixture of ingredients quickly turned into dough, and she began to scoop up balls of it with her fingers, morphing them into walnut sized balls.
How could Marinette be Marinette when she had to be ladybug? She had dreams she was trying to pursue, as well as responsibilities as a student and daughter. However, she also had a duty to Paris to protect its people. The reality was one she couldn’t afford to forget. These days it felt like she had to be ladybug more and more, her persona bleeding into her everyday. Maybe it was all the hiding and lying that was slowly becoming part of her personality.
Her fingers dug into the dough a bit too hard and ended up making a hole through the ball of dough. She sighed at the tiny doughnut in her hands before reshaping it.
Trust was such an important part of relationships but there was no one Marinette could trust with her secret. And as ladybug continued to dominate her life, Marinette felt as if she’d never be able to invest herself fully in one. Marinette couldn’t giver herself whole if she had to hide half of herself.
She began to line the dough balls, checking the waffle iron.
Marinette hoped she’d be allowed to just be her soon enough. She could dedicate all her time to progressing in her aspirations, accomplishing her responsibilities, and maintaining her relationships.
She sprayed the waffle iron with cooking spray.
Leaving ladybug ...meant leaving Chat Noir too though.
Her eyes studied the dots of cooking spray on the iron.
Fingers pressed into the dough as she placed them along the iron. She lowered the lid slowly.
Maybe… just maybe, they’d find each other after.
The smell of the cookies crisping began to waft over her, Marinette leaned against the table, propping her arms on the surface and closing her eyes as she focused on the smell. The kitchen was warm, and she could hear a bit of the tune her Maman was humming through her headphones. Jagged Stone’s guitar began to quiet down.
It could be that they would never see each other again after that.
Her gaze dropped to her hands, knuckles white with flour and fingertips sticky with residue dough. Her left thumb reached for her right hand and she began to fidget with her ring finger. How did Chat’s miraculous look when he wasn’t transformed? Marinette wondered if she’d be able to recognize it. After all, she doubted anyone would be able to recognize her superheroine persona shining through her fumbling civilian identity. Was Chat just as exuberant in real life? Her mind pondered what kind of teenager Chat would be like. He probably had a lot of friends, and he was probably a bit of an attention seeker. Marinette’s face softened. She bet he was insufferably kind. His friends were very lucky, they could enjoy being Chat’s friends without the weight of thousands of people’s lives on their shoulders. If they met without the masks, would they be friends?
She flattened her hands against the table, tracing circles with her fingers on the flour dusting it. The next song on her playlist began to start. The sweet smell of the cookies continued to fill her nose.
Actually…
Marinette sniffed the air.
“Eek-”
She tried to find the timer somewhere, realizing she hadn’t even taken it out. Scrambling to lift the waffle iron lid’s, Marinette bumped into the table, her hip bone knocking against the table’s edge. She yelped and clutched her hip. Too late, Marinette realized the uncapped vanilla extract bottle. She tried to stop its fall but the bottle tumbled and knocked against a bowl before falling on its side. The dark liquid spilled onto the wood immediately, and Marinette panicked as it pooled around bowls.
“Marinette?”
She only responded with a strained chuckle as she lifted the bottle off the table and regarded the pool of vanilla. “Sorry, I just spilled some extract.”
Her mother glanced from the wedding cake.
“Oh, honey, clean it up before it stains too badly.”
Marinette nodded and rushed to find some paper towels to absorb the extract. She pushed the bowls out of the way and pressed the paper towels onto the table, the white paper quickly turning dark even as the pool of liquid disappeared. Her eyes scanned the room for a rag as she replaced the paper towels. Her hands reached for the nearest one and took it, scrubbing at the surface, praying that the stain would lighten if she placed it next to a window. Suddenly, Marinette remembered what her original plan was as the air turned bitter. Her hands fumbled to open the waffle iron, revealing the now overly brown cookies. She plucked them off the iron and placed them on a cooling rack. As she reached for the last one, her pinky brushed against the hot metal and she hissed, biting her lip and scowling as she rubbed at the burn.
“Today is not my day”, Marinette mumbled.
Her mother shot a glance in her direction again, her brows painted with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine, Maman, just a little burn.” Marinette sighed. “I’ll be right back.”
She left her parents in the bakery, climbing the stairs to her home. She pushed the door open with her body and found her way into the bathroom. Marinette opened the faucet and slid her red pinky over the cool water. The change in temperature helped the pain and she exhaled deeply.
Her eyes found her reflection on the mirror and she couldn’t help but scowl. She’d been donning a ‘finals week’ kinda tired on her face– cheeks pale, eyebags deep, and pigtails almost coming undone– but now she also had flour dusting it. She couldn’t wait for this week to end. It was still the middle of the week though, so Marinette guessed she’d need to work extra hard to make it speed by. Her other hand found the faucet and closed it. The towel bothered her skin as she toweled her hands dry, but she hoped it would calm down soon enough. She made her way out of the bathroom, and turned to the kitchen. Swinging the cooler open and scanning its interior, Marinette took a napkin and plucked an ice cube off the ice rack. She closed the cooler before swinging her body onto the counter— her Maman wasn’t here so no one had to know.
The ice was a bit harsh on the burn, but Marinette was looking to numb the pain so she pressed tightly against her pinky. A quiet chuckle passed through her lips. It’d be neat if she could have some numbing ice for other aspects of herself. As she jokingly wondered how that’d work, she realized her mother was calling out to her.
“Marinette!”
She blinked at her Maman’s voice but made her way to the stairs, poking her head down to the bakery.
“Yes, Maman?” Her mother appeared from around the corner.
“There’s a girl here asking for you, honey.”
Panic rose up her throat. Was it Alya? Marinette wasn’t ready to confront her, and she needed time to come up with something to feed to her.
“She brought you some orange juice.”
Marinette frowned at her mother. Orange juice?
Tension left her face.
Her Maman knew Alya pretty well, so Marinette supposed it’d be weird of her not to just tell her it was Alya. Making her ways down the steps, Marinette looked around the bakery. A blue bob and white jacket was the first thing she registered.
“Kagami?”
The girl was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the counter, two plastic cups in her hands.
“Good afternoon, Marinette.” Kagami’s greeting smile was stiff on her face.
“Hey, Kagami.” Marinette responded simply, she walked towards her, and weaved around the counter. She swept her hand over her cheeks.
“Sorry I was just baking.”
“You look fine, Marinette.”
“Really? I remember a few days ago you mentioned I looked pretty bad.”
“Well, you do look tired.”
Marinette shook her head. “I can’t argue with you on that.”
The logo on the plastic cups Kagami was carrying was familiar.
“So did you just drop by to give me orange juice?”
Kagami brought the cups up to her chest. “Well”, Kagami shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, “I was hoping you’d have some with me.”
“Oh”
“Then in that case.” Marinette turned to her parents, who were probably already listening,
“Can I finish the cookies later?”
“Sure, honey, just cover the dough up.”
Marinette nodded and signaled Kagami to follow her. They walked past the counter and into the actual bakery, Marinette took some wide plates and lined the dough balls on them. She took some seran wrap and covered them, setting them off to the side. She swept her hands together to shake off any remaining flour and turned to Kagami.
“Okay, follow me.”
She led her around the corner and to the stairs. Kagami glanced around.
“So this is what leads to your actual home?”
She followed Marinette up the steps.
“Yep. The first floor is just the bakery.”
She pushed the door open and moved to let Kagami in first. Kagami took her home in. The white couch decorated with throw pillows; the kitchen with their bright blue refrigerator; the three windows spilling sunlight through grey curtains. Marinette closed the door behind them. Kagami stepped into the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the fridge. Marinette joined her.
“Weird color for a home appliance, right?”
Kagami glanced back at her, but reached her hands up to a photo on the cooler’s door, her fingertips grazing it.
“Is this a relative of yours?”
Marinette glanced at what she was looking at. The photo was a few years old, Marinette was sprawled out on the couch that was currently right behind them. A teenage boy leaning on said couch was teasing Marinette with a feather. Her face was scrunched up as said boy tickled it with the feather. They were both grinning though.
“Oh.” Marinette smiled at the picture. “That’s my older brother actually.”
Kagami’s brow questioned her, surprise evident on her face. “I wasn’t aware you had a brother.”
“Yeah, I guess I don’t talk about him enough. His name is Anthony.”
“Does he live here?”
“Oh, no, he’s studying abroad right now. He wasn’t able to come during Christmas but he’ll be here during the summer.”
Kagami seemed to mull over this information. She kept her eyes on the photo. “What was it like?” Marinette looked at her quizzically. “ Growing up with a sibling, I mean”, She clarified.
Marinette snorted. “Annoying, no one else knows how to tick you off like a sibling.” She wiggled her fingers as she presented the picture. “Exhibit here.”
“Really? I don’t know if that sound… enjoyable.”
“Pfft, well growing up with siblings is definitely pretty bothersome.” Marinette nodded at her own comment. “Sometimes it's funny but being so close to someone before gaining any sense of maturity comes with annoying downfalls.”
“People have told me it’s sad I don’t have any siblings though.”
Marinette couldn’t read Kagami’s expression.
“That’s kinda rude of them.”
Kagami smiled at her response.
“I’ve always thought so too.” She set the orange juice on the nearest surface. “But I guess I wonder if siblings are worth all of their hype.”
Marinette thought about her brother. It’d been a while since he’d last seen him, and she’d never admit to it to him, but sometimes his absence made her home feel empty.
“It’s also really nice, having someone to grow up with. I get why they might have said that.” She shrugged. “It’s a unique bond.”
“So do you miss you brother?”
“Ugh, well it’s a pain to admit but yeah.”
Kagami smirked in amusement. Marinette reached for the orange juice Kagami had brought. “I didn’t know they had such cute to go cups.” Kagami took the other cup and followed Marinette as she made her way to the counter in the kitchen, each of them taking a seat.
“You're the type to always notice design.” It wasn't a question.
“Well I might specialize in fashion designing, but if something is cute then I’ll notice.” Marinette brought the straw up to her mouth. The orange juice was refreshing and Marinette humed against the straw in contentment. Kagami smiled at her drink as well.
“I love orange juice, but is there a specific reason you’re here?”
Kagami parted her mouth from the juice and shrugged. “I suppose we never actually set a date for that orange juice date.”
“Hmm, are you maybe trying to make time up with me?”
“Well I did want to see you.”
“I’m flattered by your honesty. But I bet you also wanted to see what a bakery-home was like.”
Kagami looked around the room again instead of responding.
“Your house is so small.”
“Oh, gee, I know it's no mansion.”
“No, I didn’t mean it in a degrading way.” Kagami’s eyes flitted to a particular tiger shaped pillow on the coach. It was an old comfort toy of Marinette. “It’s homely, and warm.”
“Well it is right above a bakery”, Marinette pointed out.
“It does smell of baked goods.”
“Come on Sunday mornings. Last week I woke up to lemon-berry savarin and palmier pastries.”
“Should I come every Sunday to guess the pastry of the week?”
“You're invited to taste it too.”
They both laughed.
“I can’t promise I’d be awake to greet you, Sundays are one of my holy sleeping-in days.”
“I see you value your sleep.”
“You could say that. Like you’ve noticed though, I look like a mess when I don’t get enough of it.” Kagami didn’t respond for a second.
“So you haven’t been getting much sleep?”
“Oh, ah”, Marinette laughed awkwardly. “No, spose I haven’t.”
“You have a lot of responsibilities.”
“That I do.” Marinette chewed on the straw of her juice.
“Thank you for coming actually, I’ve been having an off day.”
“Rough week?”
“Pretty much.”
They sat in a comfortable silence as their juice slowly disappeared. Marinette noted that Kagami looked better than she had the last time they’d met. Part of her wanted to ask how that whole thing was going for her, but did she actually want to know?
“So”, Kagami broke the silence first. “You make deliveries but you also bake?”
“Of course, what kind of baker’s daughter do you take me for?”
“Do your parents expect you to take on the bakery someday?” Marinette opened her mouth but then swallowed.
“They understand I have a dream for designing, but we still haven’t figured it out. They really want to keep the bakery alive.”
“Sorry, it seems like a complicated subject.”
“It is, but it’s okay.” Marinette slurped the last of her orange juice and set her cup down. “It really is okay though, a discussion for the future. Like you said, I have enough on my plate at the moment.” Kagami also finished her drink
“Well I hope the bakery stays open until next Sunday, I want to try the pastry of the week.”
Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to make you something special.”
“Do many people get the pleasure of tasting your baking?”
“Some lucky souls out there in Paris.”
“I trust you’re good then.”
“Well I think my baking is plenty tasty, I’m just a clutz.”
“So your clumsiness doesn't interfere with the taste?”
“No, it just endangers my safety, as well as anyone’s in a three meter radius”, Marinette sighed.
“I do read you as accident prone.”
“Don’t laugh but actually I stained the work table with vanilla extract and burned my pinky only a few minutes before you came.”
Kagami’s brows rose in surprise.
“Wow, really?”
“Yep”, Marinette grumbled, lifting her right hand up. It wasn’t so distinct anymore but her finger was still red. Kagami noticed.
“I see, does it still hurt?”
“Not really, I mean it’s not fun getting burned but I have thick skin so it’s okay.”
Kagami paused and looked at her, confused. “Thick skin?”
“I’ve been pricking my fingers with needles for years, scaring has made my skin thicker and less sensitive.”
“Oh, I had no idea.”
“Yeah, sometimes I get quite insecure about it. I don’t think a guy would appreciate holding hands with me. Girls are supposed to have soft skin or whatever.”
“I know what you mean, fencing has made me build my own callouses.”
“Oh that’s right, your fence training must have done a similar number on your hands.”
Kagami nodded holding her palms out on the countertop. “I have a similar insecurity.” Marinette gazed at her hands, she could make out the callouses. She leaned closer to Kagami, placing her left hand on the countertop too.
“May I?”
Kagami’s dark eyes considered her, her bangs almost completely covering her eyebrows— It made it hard at times to decipher her expression— said bangs bounced as Kagami nodded. Marinette moved her eyes from Kagami to her palms. She lifted her left hand, her knuckles grazing the cool countertop as it approached Kagami’s. Their skin touched, marinette’s index finger grazing Kagami’s pinky. Her touch was tentative as she brushed her fingertips over Kagami’s fingers and against the inside of Kagami’s hand. It was unexpectedly cool. Just like Kagami had said, the skin along her palm’s crease was distinctly tough and one could only wonder the years of training needed to result in such callouses. She studied Kagami’s hand. Her palm was more plush than her own, but her fingers were bonier, and they also had a yellow undertone that darkened around the edges of her hands and turned into the warm color of the rest of her body. Marinette found this information oddly fascinating.
Her eyes flitted to Kagami’s face. Her gaze was on Marinette’s fingers, and Marinette realized that she was caressing Kagami’s palm. She flushed and retracted her hand, drumming her fingers on the countertop.
“Um, your hands are pretty nice actually.”
Kagami’s hands curled into loose fists.
“They aren’t soft though.”
“No, but anyone can tell that your skin’s texture is the product of hours of hard work.”
Kagami didn’t respond, but Marinette could make out a whisper of a smile on her lips.
“They, uh, they’re cool too.. Nice and cool.” Marinette swallowed, embarrassed she’d actually said that. Kagami blinked at her and Marinette hoped she hadn’t made it weird.
“Your’s are warm.”
Marinette stopped her drumming.
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Baker’s daughter thing again?”
Marinette chuckled and looked at her own hands now. “Yep, exactly.” She ran her right thumb along the base of her left thumb. Her skin had more of a pink undertone which she knew she’d inherited from her papa. Marinette wondered if both of Kagami’s parents had warm undertones. She glimpsed in Kagami’s direction. Her eyes were on the countertop, somewhat hidden behind her bangs. Marinette realized how little she actually knew of Kagami. They hadn’t been friends for that long so maybe that was obvious. Was it one of those rich kid-strict parents thing?
A ringing broke her train of thought. Kagami sat up and reached for her pocket, hastily pulling her phone out. A frown pulled on her lips.
“Everything alright? Is your mom calling?”
“Just a text. She wants me to come home now/”
“Oh, do you need to be somewhere?”
“No, it’s just past the time I told her It’d be here.”
“Why does she need you home then?”
“She doesn't, she just doesn't like it when I don’t stick to my plans.” Kagami returned her phone to her pocket, she could make out her exasperation through her movements.
“You need to leave then.”
“I do. I’ve intruded long enough anyways.”
“Of course you haven’t. But I’ll walk you out.”
Marinette stood up and Kagami followed. They made their way back to the bakery. Kagami nodded her head at her parents, a small bow of her head. “Thank you for letting me come into your home, M. and Mme.Dupain-Cheng.”
“You're always welcome -”
“Kagami”, Marinette offered.
“You're always welcome, Kagami. Have a good night, sweetheart.”
“And you as well.”
They exited the bakery, Tatsu already waiting for her.
“Well, it was nice seeing you. Feel free to come again.”
“I enjoyed talking with you.” Kagami’s smile was warm, her statement genuine.
“Thank you for allowing me to stay.”
Marinette could feel her own smile on her face. She waved as Kagami entered the car and drove off. It was evening by now.
Marinette stood in front of her home. She felt better.
A/N:
It's been a while since I last saw some of the episodes so if anything seems off let me know. I don't know if Anthony will make an appearance but I love the Brother AU so I'm including it. Feedback is appreciated, especially since I don't have any beta readers, point out any mistakes please. -Rey :D
81 notes · View notes
4stars-uswnt · 4 years ago
Text
A New Beginning [Tobin Heath x Reader]
Tumblr media
requested by @lion457457: Hey can you write a second part of this is the end if you have time where Tobin can’t live without the reader and begs for her forgiveness.
requested by anon: the angst was so good!!! can i request a sequel where tobin realizes she made a mistake and wants the reader (can be post man utd) (but don’t make it too angsty and also have a happy ending?)
requested by @arination99​: Is there a part 2 to This is the end?? If not can I request it??
A/N: this is a sequel to This is the End, so you should probs go read that before this if you haven’t yet. also this was a lil difficult for me to write bc i love both tobin and christen, also because i don’t condone cheating at all, but i hope you all enjoy this! 
warnings: mention of cheating
“You ready for camp?” Megan asks you, as the two of you wait for Allie to get her bag.
“Yeah.” You reply.
The past four months had been some of the longest of your life. After catching your girlfriend of one year cheating on you, with one of your teammates at that, you had spiraled into a lonely hole of sadness. Although you were starting to feel like your old self again, with the help of both Megan and Allie, your insecurities and self-doubt, which were only heightened by the breakup, still had a strong presence.
“You sure?”
You nod, slightly smiling. “Tobin made her choice. Will it be hard to see them both? Yes, but I have you guys and the rest of the team.”
There was no question that when the national team found out about the incident, there was a lot of discourse and arguments, your teammates upset with the two forwards. Fortunately for Vlatko, training camp hadn’t been for another four months after, otherwise there would’ve been issues, both on and off the field.
“Damn right you have us.” Allie approaches the two of you, slinging her arm around your shoulder.
“Yeah, Chris and Tobin may be my friends and business partners, but I can’t stand by what they did to you.” Megan adds on.
You shake your head and look down at your feet. “I appreciate it, guys, and I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me the past four months, I really do. But I don’t want you to break your friendships with them just because of me, okay?”
“(Y/N), look at me.” The pink haired woman puts her finger under your chin, lifting your head so your eyes meet hers. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about them losing us, or anyone else on the team, as friends, okay? They did this to themselves. You are not to blame for any of this, got it?”
“Yes, okay. Thanks, P.” You give her a slight nod. “But I don’t want anyone bringing it up or any fighting. Can you guys do that for me?”
Megan and Allie look at each other, deciding whether they’re willing to agree to that.
“Of course.” The blonde midfielder affirms, putting your request above their desire to yell at Tobin and Christen.
“Good. Now, let’s go.”
The three of you pile into an Uber and make your way to the hotel.
—————
That evening at dinner, after the majority of the team had arrived, you sat at a table with Ash, Ali, Megan, Allie, and Kelley. Some of the players who had gone on loan to Europe were still yet to arrive, including both Tobin and Christen.
A couple of minutes later, all discussion stops, everyone’s attention turning towards the door. Curious as to what your teammates were looking at, you turn around in your seat, and your stomach twists at the sight of who’d arrived.
Christen Press visibly shrinks under the scrutiny of her teammates, as she makes her way to the buffet. As she heads towards an empty table, Ash call out at her, making you cringe.
“Press! Where’s the girlfriend?”
“Yeah, thought you two would be together.” Kelley sneers, adding a comment under her breath. “It’s the least you could do after what you did to (Y/N).”
A couple of your teammates throw out some comments, causing Christen to wince. You can’t help but sympathize for the older woman.
“Stop!” You yell and slam your hands down on the table, ending their taunts. Everyone turns to look at you in surprise, especially Christen. “This isn’t her fault. She just happened to fall in love, and while yes, the timing sucked, and her actions were questionable, I don’t blame her. I mean I did at first, but I’m over it, okay? So you guys should be too.” You look around at your teammates, giving them warning glares. “So, stop yelling at her, okay? She’s still your teammate and your friend. I don’t want anymore fighting or yelling, okay? It’s over.” You conclude, sitting back down in your seat.
You see out of the corner of your eye Christen mouthing a small ‘thank you,’ to which you just nod in return.
A couple minutes later, everyone once again looks up from their food, as Tobin Heath enters the room, Alex following in pursuit. The two of them stop their hushed conversation, feeling the team’s eyes on them.
You watch as they go to get their food and sit at a completely separate table, leaving Christen to sit by herself.
What happened to her and Tobin? Were they still together? Were they even a thing to begin with?
—————
The next afternoon, training was not going well, at least not for majority of the team. Kelley kept slide tackling Tobin, a little harder than usual. Megan would purposely not pass to an open Christen, resulting in her losing the ball. You, on the other hand, were trying to be the bigger person, and made exceptional crosses, Christen connecting to them and putting them in the back of the net. However, to say that Vlatko was upset would be an understatement.
“Ladies!” He blows his whistle, waving everyone in for a huddle. “I don’t know what is going on with you all today. I’d like to think it’s because we haven’t played together in almost a year, but I know that’s not the case and there’s something else. So, whatever it is, you all need to sort it out. Am I making myself clear?”
A chorus of ‘yes, coach’ echoes amongst the team.
“Good.” Vlatko claps and then turns to the two captains. “Megan, Alex, I expect the two of you to plan some team bonding tonight. We have little time before the Olympics and even less time before SheBelieves.”
The two women nod, agreeing with your coach. “You got it.” Megan confirms.
“Great. Now, go get changed. Training is done for the day.” He dismisses the team, and you all head back to the locker room.
As you’re taking off your cleats and packing up your bag, Megan slides into the seat next to you.
“Hey, you gonna be okay for team bonding tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You give her a small smile, as you continue to put stuff in your bag.
“I’m sorry that we have to do this, but you heard Vlatko, and honestly I agree with him, we need to bond as a team.” Megan continues to explain.
Standing up and swinging your bag on your shoulder, you let out a small chuckle. “P, I told you, I’m good. I want the team to go back to normal, too.”
“Okay. I’m just worried about you.” The older forward stands up, meeting your eyes.
“Thanks, Megan. I appreciate it.” You soften. “It’s definitely gonna be tough, but I’m also tough.” You give her a smirk over your shoulder, as you head to the bus.
—————
After dinner, the entire team piled into Megan and Lindsey’s room for the mandatory team bonding. No one knew what to do or say, a thick tension in the air. A few moments passed before Megan speaks up, clearing her throat.
“Obviously, everyone knows why we’re here. We need to work on our team chemistry, so tonight’s team bonding is gonna look a little different than usual.”
“So, we’re gonna all go around and say something that no one here knows about us.” Alex adds, nodding along.
You try your best not to your roll your eyes at the corniness of this activity. You want to speak up to protest, but you don’t need to, as Emily does it for you.
“What? This is dumb. There’s nothing about me that at least one person in this room doesn’t know about me.”
“Yeah! Ali’s my wife for goodness sake.” Ash exclaims, as many of the other women voice their disagreement.
Megan rubs her forehead, sighing. “You guys! I know this isn’t ideal, but we clearly have something to work out off the field in order for us to perform well on the field.”
The entire team turns, splitting their glares between you, Tobin, and Christen.
“We all know the issue here, so we should just leave them to solve it.” Kelley mutters under her breath, not going unnoticed by the rest of the room.
After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, Tobin finally speaks up.
“Kelley’s right. It’s clear that what I did has impacted the entire team, so I take complete responsibility for that, and I’m sorry.” The forward then turns her attention to you. “And (Y/N), I’m so so sorry for what I did to you. I can’t apologize enough. What I did to you was so wrong on so many levels, and it was honestly the biggest mistake of my life.”
You nod, not really knowing how to respond.
But Tobin isn’t finished yet, turning to look down at Christen. “And Chris, I’m sorry that we didn’t work out and that we had to end the way we did. It just want’t meant to be.” She looks at you out of the corner of her eye, as she reveals the last part.
The entire team is shocked by the woman’s confession that her and Christen have split.
“(Y/N), do you think we could talk out in the hallway?” Tobin addresses you, a pleading look in her eyes.
You feel your mouth dry and your insides twist at the thought of being alone with your ex-girlfriend. “Um, sure, I guess.”
As you make your way out of the room, Megan glances at you worriedly. You nod back at her, reassuring you that you’ll be fine. You subtly give her a stern glance, slightly nodding your head back towards Christen as a warning, ‘don’t you or anyone else on the team dare interrogate her.’
Exiting the room, you hear Megan clap her hands. “So, who wants to watch a movie?”
You and Tobin now stand alone in the empty hallway, an unfamiliar awkward space between the two of you.
“Do I really need to start this conversation?” You sigh.
“Sorry.” Tobin mumbles out, playing with the hem of her shirt. “I miss you, (Y/N). I know what I did was awful and absolutely unforgivable, but I want you to know that that was the biggest mistake of my life. You’re it for me.” She confesses.
Your eyes widen, not expecting her to say that at all. You can’t help yourself, blurting out the first thing that comes to your mind. “What about Christen?”
Tobin scratches the back of her neck, as she responds. “Uhh, we tried to make it work in Manchester, but I just couldn’t get my mind off you, and I guess she could tell. So we called it off. Chris deserves better than half of a relationship.”
“Hm, yes she does.” You hum. “And so do I, Tobin.”
“I know, (Y/N). You deserve the world, and I’m sorry that I didn’t give you that.” Tears pooling in her eyes, the guilt consuming her. “But I want to. I want to be with you again and show you that I can love you the way you deserve to be loved. I still love you, (Y/N), and I’d like a second chance, if you’ll give me one.”
You feel your heart rip into two. As much as you still loved Tobin and wanted to be with her, you were unsure if you could trust her with your heart after what she did to you.
“Tobin…” You trail off, the words lost in your mouth.
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I realized that you mean everything to me.” She rasps, practically begging at this point.
“Tobin, I’m not going to be your second choice just because it didn’t work out with Christen.” You firmly state, holding your ground.
“It’s not like that at all, (Y/N/N).” Tobin insists and shakes her head. “I love you, and somehow I got caught up in a relationship that somehow blended from a friendship to a romantic one. But I realized that you are the only one I want to be with, (Y/N), only you.”
Your eyes start filling with tears, your emotions from the past four months bubbling over, all of the anger, frustration, sadness, and devastation.
“Please, (Y/N), I beg you, please forgive me.” Tobin sobs.
“Tobin, you have to understand that you broke me!” You cry. “I loved you, hell, I still love you. But I trusted you, and you broke that trust. I want to be with you because I love you, but how can I after what you did?”
Tobin’s heart breaks at your revelation. “I know, (Y/N). And I know that I’m going have to work to gain your trust back, whether or not we get back together, as we still play on the same team. But I want to work and prove to you that you can trust me, no matter how long it takes. I’d wait forever for you.”
You see the desperation and sincerity written in her eyes. “I don’t know, Tobin.”
“Just give me one more chance.” She pleads. “One dinner. That’s all I ask.”
After fighting an internal battle, you finally concede, unable to say no to the woman you love. “Okay.” You agree. “One dinner. You have one dinner to give me a sign that you’re in this for the long haul.”
A giant grin breaks out across Tobin’s face. “Thank you, (Y/N/N). I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I better not.”
“Can I give you a hug?” She shyly asks, and you give her a small nod.
Tobin wraps her arms around you, as she pulls you into a hug. You bury your face in the crook her neck, breathing in her comforting scent that you’d missed so much.
“I missed you, Tobin.” You mumble
“I missed you so much, (Y/N). Thank you, again. I love you.” Tobin whispers, running her hand through your hair.
“I love you too.”
You hoped you were doing the right thing by trusting Tobin with your heart again, because you didn’t know if you could survive another heartbreak.
Although you couldn’t know what the future had in store for you, this was the a new start for the two of you.
This was a new beginning.
249 notes · View notes
andrewmoocow · 3 years ago
Text
Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 28: Fusion Frenzy (originally published on October 4, 2021)
AN: It's fusion time everyone! Last time, Black Rutile initiated Phase 2 of her new plan to eradicate her enemies by interrupting the President's emergency address and now, she's on her way to Beach City as we speak to begin Phase 3. Can the Crystal Gems stop this monster and save both Steven & the Earth? Find out today on Steven Universe Alternate Future!
Synopsis: Bluebird Azurite, Black Rutile & White Topaz return to capture Steven.
Cast:
Zach Callison as Monster Steven, Watermelon Stevens
Estelle as Garnet
Michaela Dietz as Amethyst
Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Volleyball, Mega Pearl
Grace Rolek as Connie/Future Connie
Tom Scharpling as Greg
Shelby Rabara as Peridot/Future Peridot
Jennifer Paz as Lapis
Uzo Aduba as Bismuth/Future Bismuth
Kimberly Brooks as Jasper
Noël Wells as Black Rutile/Future Black Rutile
Lauren Ash as White Topaz
Della Saba as Aquamarine
Charlyne Yi as Eyeball
Larissa Gallagher as Bluebird Azurite
Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond
Lisa Hannigan as Blue Diamond
Christine Ebersole as White Diamond
Sarah Stiles as Spinel
Aparna Nancherla as Lemon Jade
Erica Luttrell as Future Sapphire
Lin-Manuel Miranda as President Eduardo Suarez
Wendie Malick as Vice President Theresa Maxwell
GZA as Major General Wade Grant
Aimee Mann as Opal
Billie Eilish as Turquoise
Esme Bianco as Malachite
Catherine Tate as Lepidolite
Toks Olagundoye as Nanafua
--
Closed off from the chaos outside, Jasper remained curled up in the bathtub, sobbing quietly over being rejected by her Diamond, over how nothing seemed to go right for her on Earth, and how she'd rather have gone back to Homeworld with the Diamonds rather than stay with all the other healed Gems. However, her misery wouldn't last any longer.
"Can you keep it down?! I'm trying to mope!" Jasper bellowed before she finally burst from the bathroom and marched on outside as she heard roaring from the beach. However, what she saw was a shocking sight. "What is that?"
"Is that you Jasper?" Lapis exclaimed as she hovered over to her orange frenemy. "Where have you been this whole time, you'd be pretty useful here but it seems like you don't want to!"
"I was busy being depressed, brat." Jasper snarled at Lapis. "Depressed over how my Diamond left me again. Now where is he? I want to give him a piece of my mind!"
"Funny you should mention that," Peridot replied loudly. "That monster thing is Steven!"
"You're kidding!" Jasper replied before she began sounding more insecure. "Please tell me you're kidding and that this isn't all my fault because he shattered me, I'm begging you guys!"
"Are you okay?" Pearl asked the big Quartz as Lapis brought Jasper over to the Gems. "You're sounding a bit more frantic than usual."
"Sorry," Jasper began, cringing at the thought of apologizing for something she did. "I just think this might be my fault, since because of me he went mad with power and shattered me."
"It's not your fault Jasper," Garnet said comfortingly. "I think we all might be to blame here. But it could be worse." The fusion followed up by kissing Jasper on the forehead, much to her disgust.
"Ew, what did you do to me?!" Jasper yelped in disgust as she harshly rubbed at her forehead before her vision began to distort. "Wait, what's-"
--
What Jasper then saw was not a beautiful seaside where a monster stormed about, but the remnants of Little Homeworld, now reduced to ruins in the middle of a desolate wasteland. As far as she could see, no life could be seen for miles, all except for a ragtag band of survivors finding their way in this apocalyptic future.
"Any sign of He Who Must Not Be Named yet?" the possible future version of Peridot, easily distinguished from her regular self through wearing Pearl's blazer, asked a young adult version of Connie.
"No, thankfully." Connie said as she looked through the skies with her binoculars. "But we gotta move at some point, he could be here at any moment now!"
"No, I say we stay and fight!" Bismuth declared. "I don't care if that's still Steven, you all seen what he did to our friends!" she added despondently. "Ruby, Amethyst, Pearl, Lapis, they're all gone now, all thanks to him!"
"Bismuth, you're being irrational." Sapphire calmed the blacksmith down. "But I do agree, there's no future I see where we calm Steven down and rebuild society."
"Well, let him come." Peridot stated tiredly. "Anything to be with Lapis again. I'm just so tired of fighting."
As the surviving Crystal Gems bowed their heads in shame of how powerless they were to save their loved ones, a hoarse, piercing laugh rang out, causing the four to take up arms against whatever foe crossed their path. That foe in question turned out to be Black Rutile, now without her cape and her visor showed many visible cracks.
"Ah, yes." Black Rutile said as her laughing turned into smirking. "Tired of something you barely even did to begin with. Maybe if you two weren't tossed to the side after the Cluster and reduced to a comic relief role, that little witch could've stood a better chance."
"Be very careful with what you say next." Connie threatened the Rutile by pointing her sword straight at her gem.
"Oh come now Mama-Say-Mama-Sah-Warren, I've lost people too." Black Rutile grinned while lowering the sword. "I've lost people too. Heck, you saw how Steven killed my old gang, and now he's after me too for all I've done."
"Well frankly, you had it coming for all that." Bismuth responded before turning her finger into a spike. "Now pipe down while I smash you to pieces."
"Bismuth, stop." Connie advised Bismuth. "I think she might be our best chance at surviving yet."
"Are you serious?!" Peridot shrieked in defiance. "It's all because of her that Steven went nuts, shattered Jasper, and then started rampaging across the planet and maybe beyond! All our friends and family are dead because of Black Rutile, and you think she might help us?!"
"We kept you around despite being a Homeworld loyalist." Sapphire told Peridot.
"So anyways, you might be our best chance at stopping Steven." Connie said to Black Rutile before sticking her hand out. "You in?"
"I'm going to assume that if I don't play by your rules, I'll pay with my life?" Black Rutile asked as she shook the human's hand.
"You bet." Connie answered. "When I found White Topaz before Steven shattered her, she begged me, with her last words that when I'd kill you, and make no mistake I will kill you, I'll give you the slowest and most painful death I can offer. And if you try and run away, I'm going to honor that promise."
As the handshake broke, Black Rutile was left completely speechless at both Connie's death threat and her late bodyguard having the audacity to wish death upon her. Before long, her silence was broken by another bout of maniacal laughter at Connie's expense. "Honor? Really kid?" Black Rutile declared. "You know we live in a society, or at least what's left of one, where honor is but a distant memory."
"You talk too much, you know that?" Sapphire snarked before she received another future vision, one that might spell their doom. "My stars, he's coming!"
While Connie, Peridot, Bismuth, and Sapphire prepared for the fight of their lives, Black Rutile looked up at the pink-colored sonic boom in the sky and laughed as a pink glowing figure landed on the ground in front of the rebels, the resulting impact causing more destruction to Little Homeworld.
Connie pointed her sword at their opponent, and her face softened upon discovering who it was. A pink, gargoyle-like monster whose size was equal to Bismuth's with massive horns on his head, scars on his chest forming a star, and a pink gem on his stomach.
"Steven?"
--
"So all that could've happened, because of me?" Jasper despaired as she was returned to the present day before dropping to her knees. "You were right, I am nothing but trouble."
"Okay, maybe you are, but you can still change." Amethyst rejected Jasper's notion. "And you can start by helping us stop him!" She then pointed to the pink monster, who took one look at Jasper and began to run away from her, no doubt the Steven inside it afraid to see Jasper again after killing her.
"Hey, get back here!" Jasper yelled as Steven tried to run straight towards Beach City.
"It's gonna smash Beach City!" Amethyst yelled. "We gotta stop him!" Without even a chance to be asked, Lapis summoned a water rope that she used to lasso Steven and drag him away from Beach City.
"So, is there any way to fix him?" Jasper asked.
"None that we know of so far." Garnet replied. "Not even the Diamonds could solve this problem."
"And now, I don't think there's anything we can do." Pearl declared.
"Anything, except surrender." Black Rutile declared as she, White Topaz, Aquamarine, and Eyeball dropped down from and stood before the group with an army of robots behind them. "Oh look, everyone is here! We got the insipid oppressors, their mindless sheep, and the sorry excuses for monarchs!"
"What's your game Black Rutile?" White Diamond angrily asked her former subordinate.
"It's quite simple really." Black Rutile replied. "Thanks to yours truly, all of you are now enemies of humanity for allowing this to happen!" She pointed at Steven. "And not just your little monster problem, but for all the horrible things you've done to this planet! And all while you were too busy crying like babies for the brat."
"Yeesh, someone likes to talk." Spinel murmured.
"Zip it, playmate!" Aquamarine declared. "Once all of you are out of the way, our master shall claim this galaxy as her own!"
"And maybe become one of the great Universal Lords!" Eyeball added.
--
All across the world, riots began breaking out over Black Rutile's broadcast. Picket signs were made, effigies were burned, and calls were made to eliminate the Crystal Gems' threat to humanity, even though not a single one of them knew of their existence before today.
In Washington, Theresa was showing Suarez a livestream on her phone of a group of people in Russia cursing in their native language of how the Gems deprived them of their ancestors' native land, leaving the president more depressed over the incident just as Wade strolled into the Oval Office.
"I just got off the phone with Prime Minister Sorayama." Major General Grant said. "He's saying the cabinet of Japan is ready to launch everything they've got against the monster and the Crystal Gems. They just need you to give the okay."
"No, we are not nuking anything!" Eduardo screamed, making the vice president and the major general jump a bit. "I know the Gems are good, kind people, but is it really true they're responsible for all that? And who's this Pink Diamond anyway?"
"I know they're your friends Mr. President, but what friends places the world in danger so many times, the only one to address that is another member of their species?" Grant asked. "It's your choice, sir. Your friends or your country?"
"He raises a pretty good point, sir." Theresa stated. "What's it gonna be?"
After wiping a few tears from his eyes, Eduardo turned to face the window behind him and made his decision. "Major General, tell Japan to call off the attack. Because we're doing it ourselves."
--
Back in Beach City, Black Rutile continued her speech to the Gems. "Look at all of this." She declared. "This is the chaos I've wanted to engender for so long. I wanted to build a new Homeworld order where you failed, but you chose Steven over your own people just because he's family." As Black Rutile continued speaking, she could feel her sanity begin to teeter off the edge more and more. "My purpose was to fight for the Gems, that is the sole purpose I was given. And now, I barely have any people left. That is what you have taken from me. That is what you have taken from EVERYONE!"
"That is where you're wrong!" Pearl boasted in reply. "You may think you're a misunderstood hero, but you're not! You're nothing more than a sociopathic, bloviating monster who only thinks that she's doing what's best for everyone! As actual heroes, we'll fight to stop you till our last breath, because we are the Crystal Gems and we'll always save the day!"
With that, Pearl took Amethyst's hand and the two merged into Opal, who pulled out her bow and fired an arrow at Black Rutile, who only moved her head an inch to the right to dodge it.
"Oh, fusions, eh?" Black Rutile snickered. "I guess we should even the odds then." She then turned to White Topaz. "Topaz, to me!"
"Right away my Rutile." White Topaz sadly complied and fused with Black Rutile to once again form Lepidolite.
"BEHOLD PEONS!" Lepidolite declared bombastically. "THE UNPARALLELED, UNIMAGINABLY ALMIGHTY LEPIDOLITE HAS FINALLY RETURNED!"
"Oh geez, she can fuse too?" Lapis snarled before turning to Jasper. "Hey Jasper, wanna join in?"
"Whatever." Jasper said and the two formed into the turquoise and gold-colored Malachite.
"Well, you know what to do Eyeball." Aquamarine said as she took the Ruby's hand and twirled in place before they formed Bluebird Azurite and unsheathed her ice cutlass & a flaming saber.
"Gems, now!" Garnet gave the order to attack and led the charge against the four rebels. However, Greg was feeling a little left out.
"Uh, what about me?" Greg asked as the battle began. "If only I could still make Steg." However, Greg quickly saw Lion rising beneath him and making the father ride on his back. "Oh, well that should suffice." Greg smiled before he made Lion gallop into combat. "WOLVERINES!"
--
Lepidolite roared as she threw a punch at Malachite, who caught it in one of her hands and fought back by launching a geyser at Lepidolite's face, sending her flying towards Peridot, who sent Bismuth soaring before the rainbow Gem smacked Lepidolite into the sand with her hammer.
"Feeling a little outmatched?" Malachite boasted with her arms folded.
"Child's play!" Lepidolite growled while summoning her claws and slashing Malachite in the torso. However, Malachite quickly grabbed Lepidolite by the arms and summoned Jasper's crash helmet to give her a nasty headbutt. "Topaz, what are you doing?" the Black Rutile half of Lepidolite asked. "Pull your weight and help me here!"
"But it's the four of us against all the Crystal Gems, the Diamonds, and even a Spinel!" the White Topaz half replied as Malachite began punching Lepidolite at rapid speed. "We're so outmatched here, let's just un-fuse and surrender so we won't have to risk our lives against such an unfair numbers advantage."
"Oh shut up!" Black Rutile yelled before Lepidolite received another punch to the face. However, Lepidolite just as quickly stabbed Malachite with her claws and slowly dragged them up her torso up to her face, hitting both Lapis & Jasper's gems and causing them to un-fuse.
"I got you guys!" Greg shouted as Lion leaped up and he caught the two Gems on his back. Lion then followed up with a roar aimed straight at Bluebird while she was fighting Opal, who was sent flying towards Spinel.
"Comin' at ya!" Spinel exclaimed before she began dribbling Bluebird like a basketball and flung her at some of Black Rutile's robot minions, who were firing at the Diamonds.
"Well, at least we tried with Malachite." Lapis said while getting up before she turned to Peridot. "Hey Peridot, wanna give it a shot!"
"Gladly!" Peridot exclaimed and raced over to her bestie.
"Wait, what?" Jasper asked as she watched her former cohorts fuse into Turquoise. "Since when can you do that?!"
"Don't ask, just fight!" Turquoise declared while forming a set of three swords out of liquid metal from the air to use, two in her hands and one between her teeth.
"Right." Jasper agreed as she prepared to charge. "Let's kill her properly this time."
--
Amid the chaos, Volleyball and Lemon Jade were left trying to escape harm with no idea what to do in battle, as they had never engaged in combat before.
"What are we going to do?!" Lemon Jade yelled while shaking Pink Pearl in her hands.
"I have no idea!" Volleyball replied. "I did fuse before, but it wasn't really for fighting an enemy." That was when she got an idea. "Wait, hold on!"
Volleyball ran towards Opal, who was busy shooting down Black Rutile's robots with her arrows when she felt something pulling down at her drape. "Oh, do you need something Volleyball?"
"Can I fuse with you Pearl so I can protect Jade?" Volleyball asked Opal.
"In the middle of something, but that's a definite possibility." Opal replied, unaware of the robot that was now hovering behind her.
"TARGET OPAL CONFIRMED. COMMENCE UN-FUSING." The robot droned and sent out an electric shock that forced Opal back into Pearl & Amethyst.
"Well ain't that a coincidence." Amethyst snarked as the two Pearls fused into Mega Pearl. "It's like she planned for this!"
"She planned for everything Amethyst." Mega Pearl responded before slashing away at robots that were cornering Lemon Jade.
--
Meanwhile, Turquoise was engaged in a swordfight against Bluebird Azurite, her metal katanas against Bluebird's ice and fire swords. "This is what you get for taking Steven and causing Lapis to leave me!" Turquoise yelled as she tried to stab Bluebird in any opening she could find.
"Oh, did kidnapping Steven hurt you that much?" Bluebird snickered. "I wouldn't have guessed judging by how you never show up." The smaller fusion quickly disarmed Turquoise and prepared to go in for the kill, but she had another thing coming.
"Got this from a manga." Turquoise grinned cheekily while cupping all four of her hands to her side and sticking them out, launching a torrent of water at Bluebird's face.
As for the Diamonds, they were busy protecting Steven from the robots by swatting them away. "These things are multiplying by the second!" Blue said while smashing drones to the ground so that the surviving Watermelon Stevens could dismantle them. "We have to get Steven somewhere safe so we can calm him down!"
"Everyone's trying their hardest, but Black Rutile just keeps coming back up." Yellow replied.
"Don't despair, we can win this!" White added, confident that they could still win the day somehow when she spotted something in the distance. "Wait, what are those?”
--
"Get a move on everyone, we're wasting daylight here!" Wade Grant barked to his men from his Humvee as the US Army advanced towards Beach City. As their goal was only to capture the Crystal Gems, they didn't need massive tanks, only jeeps, armored vans, and helicopters to get the job done. As the seaside town grew closer and closer, some of the army men felt the need to converse among themselves.
"So, do you think it might be sexist to capture a bunch of alien women?" one of the soldiers driving an armored van asked his companion.
"I'm not sure." The other soldier replied. "From what I've heard, they only look like women. They kinda don't have any gender since they're like, holograms projected by rocks. Holograms that happen to look female."
"Yeah but are there male Gems out there somewhere?" the first soldier continued. "How do they even procreate, if possible?"
"Beats me, they don't look like they have the goods, if you catch my drift." The second soldier wiggled his eyebrows. "Y'know, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more!"
"Yes, I catch your drift, no need to reference old-timey British comedy." The first soldier groaned before turning on the radio. "Sir, we're nearing Beach City. Permission to be the first to step out?"
"Permission granted Private Eric." Wade accepted over the radio as the two soldiers' van rolled up to Beach City, where its citizens were already evacuating.
"Excuse me, we'd like a word with the mayor of this town." Private Eric said as he and his partner stepped out.
"That's me, Mayor Pizza." Nanafua declared as she walked up to the pair. "Now what brings the military here?"
"We're on official business here Mayor Pizza." Eric stated. "Are you aware you have been housing aliens that have been threatening your planet regularly?"
"Oh, the Gems? They're pretty harmless." Nanafua laughed. "Though that giant monster is a bit concerning."
"Everyone step aside, Black Rutile has convinced us those Gems need to be placed under arrest." Wade stepped forward and prepared a special anti-Gem weapon made from the remains of the Destiny Destroyer. "We won't use lethal force against you all, but we strongly urge you to let us through if you want your planet to live."
The armed forces began marching towards the pink monster menacing Beach City as the townsfolk nervously stepped aside to allow them to pass. Though they treasured the Gems, they couldn't bear to be victims of yet another incident relating to them.
--
"Get back here!" Lepidolite roared as she chased Connie around and clashed her claws with the girl's sword. "Don't think you've won yet just because you've trained with that rotten Pearl!"
"That's what you think!" Connie yelled before she slashed at Lepidolite's arm, causing the fusion to yell.
"How can we be hurt just like that?!" the Black Rutile half of Lepidolite muttered before looking accusingly at no one in particular while beginning to destabilize. "Seriously Topaz, why can't you contribute?!"
"Seriously, can't you read my lips?!" White Topaz yelled. "I want out!" Suddenly, the two Gems split apart and fell to the ground. Black Rutile fell face-first and spat out some sand before glaring daggers at her bodyguard.
"Does it look like I care?" Black Rutile said. "Besides, we should be getting some back up real soon."
"Wait, back up?" Mega Pearl wondered before she got shot down by a weapon resembling a Gem Destabilizer and forced back into Pearl & Volleyball.
"Fan out, take down anything with a star!" Wade Grant gave out orders while his men zapped the Crystal Gems with their Destabilizer-like weapons, managing to take down Turquoise, Garnet, Amethyst, Bismuth, and Jasper before forcing them into a truck.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Jasper roared as she was herded like cattle into the truck with the other Gems.
"You're finally getting the Earth justice you deserve." Black Rutile declared smugly. "When this planet's government learned of your exploits, the leader tried to make an address that I hacked into and used to expose you to the world. Hope you enjoy confinement!"
"You won't get away with this!" Pearl yelled rebelliously before she, Volleyball, and one of the Watermelon Stevens were forced into the truck as two of the soldiers looked up at Steven and the Diamonds.
"What do we do with them?" Private Eric wondered.
"No need, I got this." Black Rutile bragged, taking Aquamarine's wand and using it to imprison the three Diamonds in a forcefield.
"Hey, you let them go!" Spinel yelled before she found herself getting trapped in the bubble as well, along with Lemon Jade.
"Uh, what is going on?" Greg asked before the major general walked up to him.
"There is no need to panic sir, we are simply following orders." Wade answered calmly. "Alright, move out! We're bringing them to Area 42!"
"Area 42?!" Connie exclaimed. "What are you going to do with them there?!"
"Just gonna ask some questions followed by deciding their fates, no big." Wade responded as he hopped into his Humvee and drove off while turning on his radio. "Gems have been captured, I repeat, Gems have been captured. Requesting a lift to Area 42 in Calivada, over."
As the military drove away with the Gems in tow, Bluebird Azurite picked up Black Rutile & White Topaz before she flew them away from the beach, the combined weight of the Diamonds, Steven, Spinel, and Lemon Jade in the bubble having no effect on her.
"So Crystal Gems," Black Rutile laughed evilly. "Who are you going to believe in now?!"
--
With the Crystal Gems in government custody, Black Rutile is just a few steps closer to victory. But what plans does she have in store for the Diamonds, what fate shall await the Crystal Gems at Area 42, and do White Topaz's loyalties still lie with Black Rutile? You're just gonna have to wait and see.
7 notes · View notes
hankwritten · 4 years ago
Text
Plein Air
Demoman/Soldier, 1k
Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 7: Pride
“Let’s get this one thing clear, maggot: I am proud of who I am.
I am proud to be an American! I am proud to be BLU! I am proud of my ability to practice law in thirty-eight of the forty-nine states! Never in my life have I bowed to the cowardly condition of self-pity, not when I have so much to feel accomplished about. So then! When I tell you this you will not mistake it for me asking for your blessing, your sympathy, or any of that granny-gumming nonsense that you may want to spit in my direction!”
“I get it Jane,” Tavish insisted. “It’s been eleven minutes. Please just tell me what you wanted to say.”
The sheets, which had somehow gotten tangled around me in my (several minute long) speech, prevented me from kicking him in retaliation. Instead, I tried to take a steadying breath, reminding myself that I didn’t need to gasconade in front of Tavish, that all my posturing was unearned after everything else we’d revealed to each other. But, despite knowing that logically, it did not make this any easier. I didn’t make a habit of talking about it to partners. Not to partners, not to friends, not even to Medic who didn’t care much now that the “fun” part was over.
But Tavish…Tavish was different. Or at least, I wanted what we’d made together to be different.
I cleared my throat. “I…was weird. As a kid. Wanted to play war games, didn’t do well with the other girls.” Immediately, I cringed away from the words I’d been avoiding for decades, and looked to Tavish for the flinch of recognition I was sure was coming. But he still had that mix of concern and confusion muddling his face, so I went on, “was just blissfully unaware of it, until I had to leave home over what was brewing. Joined up.”
At least Tavish already knew that part of the story. “Aye, I remember,” he said. “Don’t get what you mean by ‘unaware’, though?”
“I am getting there, maggot!” I huffed. “I’d get confused. Didn’t even remember why people were calling me a woman in the first place. Just kept roaming through Poland until I ran into Medic, and he dropped all his quack medical terms on me. And then he…fixed me up.”
Cured, was what it always felt like. Like everything in my life up until then had been moving through a fever dream, and after Medic had stepped in, it finally broke.
Tavish raised an eyebrow. “That can mean a lot of things when it comes to Medic.”
“He helped with the body I have.” That I wasn’t ashamed to admit. I’d worked hard on getting to where I was, and I was damn proud of it. “Hormones, surgery, the rest.”
“Oh,” Tavish said, brow furrowing.
“Oh? What does ‘oh’ mean, maggot?” I demanded. “If you’ve got something to say then say it!”
At that moment, I was terrified he would—that after all the time working up the nerve, after deciding I loved him enough to do this, it’d turn out that he didn’t want the truth from me.
He saw my expression flash like steel and immediately reached for my hand. “Not that Jane, nothing like that,” he soothed, squeezing my palm tight. “I love you, and I’m glad you felt good enough to tell me all this.”
My racing heart slowed a few beats, a horse tripping over the finish line and coming to a steady trot. I breathed out, and linked my fingers with his.
“I suppose I am a bit puzzled…” he went on. “Getting Medic involved, surgery…it all sounds like a lot of work. Why didn’t you just ask Merasmus?”
Now, the true answer to that question is I didn’t meet that useless old wizard until years after I’d transitioned, but something about the way Tavish had phrased that question left me flabbergasted.
“Merasmus?” I demanded.
“Aye, he can magic bodies around willy-nilly,” Tavish explained. “That’s what he did for me.”
“…WHAT.”
“Did I never tell you that?” Tavish asked, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, well I met him as a kid, I asked him if he could do that, and he was all ‘DO NOT QUESTION WHAT THE GREAT MERASMUS CAN AND CANNOT DO BLAH BLAH BLAH,’ ‘n long story short, he turned me into a laddie.”
There was a deep pause in the mansion’s master bedroom.
“Tavish DeGroot,” I fumed with mounting indignation. “Did you just let me spout goosey gibberish for nearly twenty minutes just to tell me you are also transgender??”
“Er, sorry,” Tavish said. “I didn’t think it was a big deal? Not that your isn’t, obviously, if you feel it is, but er…I suppose, yeah.”
“You-”
“Keep your voice down, lad,” Tavish hushed. “You know Mum will have our hides if we wake her up fighting again.”
“That was only because we broke the dining room table. Yelling is not nearly as loud as that,” I complained, but lowered my voice anyway. Despite my initial frustration, the wave of anger crested and died, and I was left with a warm sense of relief. Relief, and new camaraderie. “You are full of cheeks, you know that?”
“Are you trying to call me ‘cheeky’?”
“I do not have time for your Britishisms! And stop trying to teach me.”
He smiled, knowing by the playfulness in my voice that I wasn’t truly mad at him, not really. “Fine, on my word, I’ll never try to make you talk properly again.”
“Apology accepted,” I replied.
“If we’re good on confessions for the night, you ready to turn in?”
We slid under the sheets, only halfway into bed when I’d stopped our nightly routine. At the moment, it’d felt like the most important thing in the world, to be authentic with Tavish now that we’d given up so much for each other. Curling against him, I realized I hadn’t even guessed how he’d react—nor known that things could be even better between us.
19 notes · View notes
deja-you · 4 years ago
Text
foreign affairs | part three | d.c.
m. de lafayette x reader
summary: In 2020, Representative Y/n L/n is up for reelection. Lafayette, Y/n’s former best friend and current French socialite and playboy, decides this is the time to walk back into her life.
word count: 5.3k
author’s note: this is the last chapter of this series! it’s been so much fun writing this for you guys, hope you’ve enjoyed it. fair warning, this chapter/ending is pretty melancholic. 
trailer | previous
Tumblr media
Although his grandmother had wanted him to be, Lafayette wasn’t Catholic.
Like any other Parisian, he might attend a special Christmas or Easter service, but he wouldn’t call himself a Catholic. His grandmother had always wanted him to be more devout in his faith. Since his father had died when he was young and his mother was a young woman just starting off her political career, his grandmother raised him for the most part. 
She was an organist and would play for different churches every weekend, never finding a church she liked well enough to stay very long. His grandmother had even taught Lafayette to play a few songs. At one point, she had bought Lafayette a crucifix on a chain to keep with him. 
It wasn’t one of those cool, sleek chains you would see people wearing proudly. It was a silver chain with dark beads on it, something you might see an old lady wearing. A silver chain with a tiny Jesus on a tiny cross. He had lost it almost immediately. 
Lafayette had always had a habit of misplacing items. In high school, he had conveniently lost his homework on multiple occasions. He was always losing just one half of a pair of socks. Could you imagine how stupid he looked walking around with one black sock and one white sock on? He couldn’t even remember how many times he had woken up hungover with no idea of where his wallet or keys were. 
The point is, Lafayette was a grown man who was used to losing things. Yet, no matter how many items he lost, he still wasn’t prepared to lose Y/n.
And yes, he knew it was all his fault. Everything seemed to be his fault these days. Lafayette wasn’t even denying that he had made another huge mistake. What kind of idiot sleeps with the secretary of the girl he was in love with? Seriously, why did I write such an idiot?
It had been eight years since Paris. After all this time, Lafayette was just as proficient at destroying his relationship with Y/n as he had been when they were younger. You would think that he would learn from his mistakes, or Y/n would have been able to forgive him, but no. Maybe they were young and stupid then, but they were still very much young and very much stupid. 
Lafayette had made a stupid decision. If it hadn’t been clear to him the night before, it was blatantly apparent to him the next morning while Sybil was getting dressed.
“Last night was a mistake.” He cringed at his words as soon as he said them. Last time he had woken up next to a girl and told her it was a mistake, it didn’t go so well. 
“Not in a bad way, I mean,” Lafayette quickly amended. “I am sorry, was that rude to say?”
Sybil gave him a look that he couldn’t quite read. “No, it’s alright. I agree with you.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “it was unprofessional, and by the looks of it, it didn’t help you get whoever she is off your mind.”
Lafayette rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking at the bed or the floor or the window or at anyone but her. “You are right. I just... Anyway, this can’t happen again.”
“No, never. It was a bad idea to begin with,” Sybil muttered.
There was a silence that fell between them, neither of them knowing what to say until Lafayette awkwardly said, “I’ll see you around, then.”
“Right, right. Are you going to Congresswoman L/n’s election night party?” It was more of a way to fill the silence than actual curiosity.
At the reminder of Y/n, Lafayette had to stop him self from outwardly groaning, but he couldn’t help but grimace. If things with her hadn’t been messed up before, they definitely would be now. 
“I should attend that, shouldn’t I? I’m just not sure Y/n will want me there.”
“You are a major donor,” Sybil pointed out. “It would make sense. If you and the Congresswoman don’t get along, why do you come around the office so often and make contributions?”
He didn’t even know how to respond to that, and his silence was telling. Suddenly everything clicked for Sybil. The frequent visits to Congresswoman L/n’s office. The disappointment on his face when she had told him Y/n specifically didn’t want to talk to him. The woman Sybil had asked him about last night. The way he called her by her first name.
“Oh no. The woman you’re in love with is Congresswoman L/n, isn’t it?” Sybil pieced it together. 
Lafayette’s mouth hung open silently, his eyes told her she was correct.
“I never would have kissed you if I had known. I never would have done a lot of things with you if I had known. My boss? Please tell me I’m wrong about this.”
“You’re not.”
She groaned. “And it was so obvious, wasn’t it?”
“It’s obvious?”
“Of course! How did I not realize until now? I don’t want to get in the middle of anything, I just didn’t know.” 
“You’re not getting in the middle of anything.” Lafayette shook his head. “I ruined any chance I had with Y/n long before last night. I really think she wants me out of her life this time. I should get on the next plane back to France, shouldn’t I?”
“Are you asking me, your one night stand, for advice?” Sybil said. “Not going to lie, this is a first for me. You’re going to miss the election night party if you leave.”
“Does it matter if I go to this event? Y/n doesn’t want to be with me, showing up to a party isn’t going to change that.”
“Look,” Sybil said firmly, “if you really love her, does it really matter if she wants to be with you or not? If you love her, you should want what’s best for her and her career, even if that means she still doesn’t want to be with you.”
He bit his cheek and thought her words over. “I get that, it’s just...”
“It’s your decision. Regardless of whatever happened between the two of you, she could use your support at the election party. Think about it, okay?”
John Adams was going to win the race, he had been ahead in the polls for weeks now. Thomas Jefferson had run an admirable campaign, well, as admirable as a campaign could be that outwardly trashed congress members in the media. Y/n never took his insults personally, even though she knew Jefferson wanted her to. 
Tonight she wasn’t going to let thoughts of Jefferson get her down, even though the news anchors on the television would continuously bring him up. Tonight was going to be a big win for the Democratic party. Jefferson was trailing Adams in electoral votes, and there were only a few states left to be accounted for. 
Y/n has spent most of the night talking with voters and showing off some of her bartending skills at the venue they had rented out for the election party. She was having a lively conversation with a single-mom when Lafayette walked in the door. Suddenly, it was like she had tunnel vision. Everyone else was dark and blurry, but everything about Lafayette seemed to be vibrant and in focus. 
Since the last time she had seen him, Y/n had been doing her best not to waste her time thinking about him. Not that it was an easy task to do, Lafayette had a way of being memorable. Still, Y/n had bigger things to focus on than an old flame. 
Now election night had finally rolled around. No politician was bothering Y/n because they were too focused on the presidential election or their own reelections. And at this time at night, the polls in Y/n’s district had closed. There was no more campaigning she could do at this moment, so she had nothing to distract her from her former best friend who was staring at her from the other side of the room. 
Saying a brief apology to the woman she was talking to, Y/n began weaving her way through the crowd until she was standing a foot a way from Lafayette. Her red lips formed a cordial smile, and to any onlooker, it looked like a kind greeting between two acquaintances. 
“I didn’t think you would show up,” Y/n said cooly.
He bit the inside of his cheek and tilted his head to the said ever so slightly. “I almost didn’t. I know things have been awkward between us lately, but I wanted to show my support for your success. No matter what happens between us, I’m always going to have your back Y/n.”
Her mouth parted slightly, a little surprised and touched by his response. When she didn’t respond, Lafayette quickly added on, “but I can always leave if you don’t want me here.”
“No, no.” She closed her mouth and shook her head. “No, stay. I want you to stay.”
A small smile began making its way across Lafayette’s features. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Nathan had appeared at Y/n’s shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nathan said, adjusting his glasses. “Good to see you could make it, Monsieur de Lafayette. You think I could borrow the Congresswoman for a moment?” He turned to face Y/n. “They’re about to call your election.”
“Of course, I’ll see you around, Lafayette.” She gave him another smile before Nathan ushered her to the front of the room where a local newscaster was announcing the results for her district.  
The room went quiet and the volume on the tv was turned up. The anchor smiled at the camera and announced, “...and it looks like Representative Y/n L/n has won her reelection campaign by a large margin. Horatio Gates trailed the congresswoman by...”
Y/n wouldn’t know how much she had beaten Horatio Gates by until the next moment. Everything after the anchor announced she had won reelection went unheard. An upbeat victory song had begun playing somewhere in the room, yelling and cheering warmed Y/n from her toes up to her head. Her mouth hung open for the longest time, and before she knew it, she was pulling the nearest person, Nathan, into a tight hug. 
At some point, reporters had swarmed the venue and Y/n began giving out answers to all the questions they threw at her. There were a lot of congratulations and thank yous going around, and Y/n nearly lost herself in all the wonderful chaos. There was more wonderful chaos when John Adams was announced the next president of the United States later that evening, but Y/n hadn’t even been given enough time to soak in her own victory. 
Don't follow men out to the street at 3 a.m.
The election party officially ended at midnight, but that didn't stop people from staying for a few more hours. At 3 a.m. there were maybe five people left at the party. Now that most people were gone Lafayette decided he would approach Y/n one last time.
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure I congratulated you on your win again before I head back to France,” he said.
Y/n blinked. “You’re going home?”
“Early tomorrow morning.”
Y/n’s mouth hung open slightly, but she didn't say anything. Lafayette gave her a thin smile, a polite nod, and then headed out the door.
He had already exited the venue when Y/n processed what had happened. Not heeding my earlier warning, she followed Lafayette out onto the street at 3:00 a.m.
“So that's it, then, is it?” She called after him. “That’s the end?”
He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “The end of what?”
“The end of us. You're just going to leave?”
“Us? What do you want me to say, Y/n? That I regret what I did? That I'm sorry? Because I've already tried that.” He sounded exhausted. “You are just tormenting me now. Do you know how much this is hurting me?”
“You?” Y/n couldn't believe he was acting like the victim. “This is all on you. I can't count how many times you’ve hurt me
“What, you think I don't know that I messed up? You think I don’t regret the decisions I made every day?” Lafayette ran a hand through his hair. “Chèrie, I've used every kind of soap I have, and I still don't feel clean.”
The raw honesty in his words struck both of him deeply. A heavy silence settled between them. Eventually Lafayette reached into his pocket and pulled out two items. He desperately thrusted the objects into her open palm.
“I've been holding on to those for years. I don't want to keep them any longer.”
Y/n looked at the items he had given her. One was an old, worn ticket from a concert. The other item was a necklace. The one she had worn on their one shared night together. Y/n thought she had lost it and never expected to see it again.
“I dated lots of women when I was younger,” he admitted. “It never ended well. I've never been good at being sincere. Every relationship I've been in I ruined. You want to know why we never dated? Because I loved you. To the moon and back.”
“To the moon and back?” She repeated.
He nodded. “I loved you since I've known you. I couldn't let you be another girl I ruin things with. I guess everyone knew we were in love with each other except for us. Even Molly figured it out. That's why we broke up.
“Why didn't we ever tell each other?”
“We were just kids,” he suggested. “We spent all our time watching lovers in rom-coms tell each other what we were too afraid to tell ourselves.”
Y/n stared at the items she held in her hand. She let the ticket and the necklace fall from her hand onto the dark street below.
“This doesn't change anything.” She shook her head. “You walk in dreams. Dreams of what once was, what could have been, and what never will be. You hold onto the tangible things a ticket stub from our first concert, the necklace I lost years ago. You hold onto these objects because they make your dreams feel a little more real. Something you can touch or see, but in the end? It's all in your head.”
“What are you saying, Y/n?”
“Lafayette, I don’t doubt for a second that you loved me. Maybe you still love me. It’s just not enough to make up for all the ways we’ve hurt each other. I’m tired of being hurt, okay?” Y/n tugged at the sleeves of her coat, trying to find the words to tell him what needed to be said. “I’m finally happy and successful. I’m changing the world.”
“I knew you would. I always knew you would.”
In the next few months, Y/n would replay that evening again and again in her mind until it would drive her to the brink of madness.  “Out of sight, out of mind” was a proverb Y/n wouldn’t understand until four months after the election night, when the words Lafayette had spoken to her on the street seemed like an eternity ago. When a year passed, that night seemed almost like a figment of her imagination now. 
Besides, Y/n didn’t have a lot of time to think about events that had conspired over a year ago now. She had legislation to pass and funding to allocate. There was never a slow day in D.C. 
“Y/n, you saw what Fox News said about you this morning?” Nathan asked, setting down a cup of coffee.
More focused on the steaming cup of coffee that had been set down in front of her than anything Nathan had said, she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. Was it anything new?”
Nathan considered for a moment before shaking his head. “No, not really. They were just informing the public that you’re a radical leftist who wants to abolish ICE and free healthcare for all.”
Y/n scoffed. “They figured out I wan’t to keep families together and take care of the health of millions of American citizens? Oh no.”
“You’re not bothered by any of this?”
“Well, they’re not wrong? By all definitions, I am a radical leftist.” She shrugged and pulled the warm cup of coffee closer to her. “Besides, anyone who’s watching Fox News already has a biased opinion toward me. We’ve got bigger things to worry about, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. “For one thing, France announced its support for your foreign aid bill. If your bill gets passed, they pledged to match whatever amount we’re spending on foreign aid.”
This seemed to wake Y/n up in a way that her coffee just couldn’t. “Really? That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“I’m glad you think so. I’ve lined an interview up for you and a French diplomat in an hour downtown. You ready to go?” 
Y/n sat up straight in her chair. “You really sprung this on me! Nathan, I haven’t had anytime to prep.”
He rolled his eyes and handed her a thick binder. “It’ll just be a few questions, mostly just to show the public a picture of you and a French official side by side. You can handle any questions, you wrote the damn bill. Besides, we can prep in the car.”
Y/n figured she had no points left to argue, likely Nathan’s intention. Begrudgingly, she followed Nathan out to the front of the building and they got into the backseat of the car. They began going back and forth, Nathan asking her questions on the foreign aid bill, and Y/n responding with well articulated answers.
“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Nathan said in the elevator, finally closing the binder.
Y/n rolled her eyes. “That’s because I’m just magnificent and well-spoken.”
“Yes, yes you are. You’re going to kill this interview.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They began walking over to a small hair and makeup set up, and Y/n froze when she saw who was already on set laughing with the interviewer. She turned on her heel and jabbed a finger into Nathan’s chest.
“You didn’t tell me Lafayette was the French diplomat!” She hissed.
Nathan’s mouth fell open in mock surprise. “Did I forget to mention that to you? How silly of me.”
“Nathan, I swear to God. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I had known Lafayette would be here!”
“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t tell you, huh?”
Y/n scowled at him. “I haven’t spoken to him in over a year, and last time we spoke, well...”
“I know you’re not on the best terms. Maybe this will help bury the hatchet.” Nathan suggested.
“Nathan, we need to can--”
“Oh dear, it seems I’m getting a call. I should really take this. I’ll see you back at the office, Y/n.” He motioned to his phone that was clearly not ringing and retreated back to the elevator. 
After quietly cursing Nathan under her breath, Y/n resigned to her fate and allowed for some intern to touch up her hair and makeup. When they were done, she was ushered onto set in a seat next to Lafayette and across from their interviewer, J.P. Martin. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Congresswoman L/n.” J.P. Martin said with a disarming grin. “I’m glad you could make it to this interview on such short notice.”
She forced a smile, “thank you for letting me discuss my foreign aid bill.”
Y/n could feel Lafayette’s lingering gaze on her skin, but she refused to take her eyes off the interviewer in front of her. J.P. Martin said something else flattering that Y/n didn’t take to heart, then someone on the crew began to count down, then they were rolling. 
“Today I’m joined with Representative Y/n L/n and Ambassador Lafayette to discuss L/n’s foreign aid bill,” J.P. looked straight into the camera with a wide grin. “Before we get into the details of all that, it’s my understanding that Representative L/n and Ambassador Lafayette have a history. Is this true?”
She froze in her chair. How had this interviewer find out what happened between her and Lafayette? Would this be a scandal she found in the newspaper the next morning? In all the time she had taken with Nathan to prep for this interview, she was already caught off guard by the first question.
“Yes, this is very true. Y/n and I go way back. We met when she was studying abroad in Paris and quickly became close friends,” Lafayette said. Y/n finally glanced over at him, and he gave her a reassuring smile. 
“Well how about that?” J.P. directed his next question at Y/n. “Was it intimidating being friends with President de La Rivière’s son?”
Y/n was feeling more relaxed now after the initial shock. “At first, yes. Of course it was. I’m pretty sure I tripped over my feet the first time I met President de La Rivière.”
“You didn’t!” J.P. said with an amused gasp.
Lafayette chuckled and nodded. “She did. I remember my mother asking me afterwards why I was friends with that awkward American.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” J.P. was positively beaming. 
“I think my mother understands now that Y/n is the youngest woman serving in the United States Congress,” Lafayette was subtlety pointing out Y/n’s accomplishments. “And speaking as her son and an official ambassador from France, I can confidently say President de La Rivière was impressed with Y/n’s foreign aid bill.”
“So impressed that the French government has promised to match the amount the U.S. is spending if the bill gets passed.” J.P. turned to face Y/n, his expression turning more serious. “Tell me, Congresswoman, why do we need to increase the amount of money we spend on foreign aid? We’re already spending 39.2 billion on foreign aid.”
Y/n smiled when he asked this. Really smiled. These were the kind of questions she had prepared to answer, and she knew she had Lafayette to thank for the topic change. “J.P., most Americans think 10% of government spending should be spent on foreign aid.”
“Yes, that seems reasonable,” J.P. nodded.
“39.2 billion might seem like a big number,” Y/n continued, “but that’s less than one percent of our federal budget.”
“Is that true?”
The rest of the interview went fairly well. Y/n had intelligent answers to each question J.P. asked, and Lafayette was there to assure J.P. that France was in full support of Y/n’s bill. Before she knew it, J.P. was saying they were out of time and thanking both her and Lafayette for coming to the interview. 
The crew began to disperse quickly once the interview had commenced. Now that the interview was over, the realization that Lafayette was standing beside her begun to sink in. She loved the idea of walking off the set and never seeing him again, but unfortunately, they were both headed in the direction of the singular elevator.
“I assume you’re going to the lobby as well?” Lafayette asked, pressing the down button on the elevator.
Y/n nodded. “I am.”
The elevator opened and Lafayette gestured for her to step in first before following behind her. They stood in silence for a moment. Y/n hated how slow this elevator was moving, a fact that she hadn’t noticed on the ride up. 
Finally, Y/n caved and she spoke to fill the silence. “I didn’t know you were back in the United States.”
He gave her a sideways look, doing his best to hide a smile. “I’m the French Ambassador to the United States now, Y/n. Did you really not know that?”
She clicked her head and shrugged. “I might’ve read it somewhere, I guess I just forgot. I’m a busy person.”
“Oh, I know.”
Y/n turned to face Lafayette and considered him for a moment. “I suppose you’re a busy person as well, now. How’d you get this gig, nepotism?”
Lafayette laughed and leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Believe it or not, I’m extremely qualified. I’ve served as a representative for France in the EU for a couple years, worked in the state department, long with other places.”
The elevator finally opened up to the lobby, but now Y/n wasn’t ready to end their conversation. “Huh. I guess I forgot that you’re actually a pretty intelligent person under all those layers.”
“Layers of what?” He asked with an amused grin.
“Layers of stupidity.” Y/n shrugged.
Lafayette chuckled and held the door open for her. “I guess that’s fair.”
“It’s more than fair,” Y/n sighed. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “So what is it that ambassadors actually do? I’ve always been curious.”
“A lot of ceremonial gifts and handshakes,” Lafayette admitted. “But very important handshakes. I met with President Adams last week, and I’m headed to meet with Washington at Mount Vernon now.”
“Sounds luxurious. Maybe I should’ve considered becoming an ambassador if it meant I get to spend time with President Washington.”
He paused. “Well, meeting with Washington is more for personal reasons than anything to do with being an ambassador.”
“Oh yeah?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “I forgot you were best friends with every prominent American.”
“You’re not wrong,” he grinned. “Can’t help it that everyone loves me. Democrats and Republicans. I’m planning to have dinner with Jefferson next month. And I used to be best friends with the illustrious Representative Y/n L/n.”
His words were teasing, but he noticed when Y/n tensed when he said “used to be.” She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. Shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, Lafayette cleared his throat and asked, “What’s next for you?”
She considered him for a moment before responding earnestly. “The Oval Office, eventually.”
“Really?”
“Are you surprised?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not really. I always knew you were destined for great things, Y/n.”
“Did you, now?”
“Yes, in fact,” Lafayette reached into his pocket and took out a checkbook and a pen. “Let me be one of the first investors to your presidential campaign.”
He handed her the check he had just written. Y/n stared at the check she had been handed, still not entirely processing the extra zero written on the dotted line.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, it takes a lot of money to run for president.”
“I know that, but why would you…” She trailed off, then narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. “This is just you trying to win me over by spending absurd amounts of time and money on things you don’t actually care about. I’ve seen this before.”
“You’ve seen what?”
“This exact scene.” Looking around seemed to solidify Y/n’s conception. They were standing on a sidewalk. Maybe Y/n and been young and naïve in the past, but now she knew how to recognize patterns. She recognized this one. How many times before had the pair of them ended up on a sidewalk together? And how had it ended for Y/n each time?
She counted five times now. The first was the day she had met him. It was Paris, and he had a completely disarming smile that made Y/n trust him immediately. 
The next time it was late, both of them were drunk, and they were laughing in the dark while they waited for a cab to drive by. 
The third time was in New York, ice cream cones in both of their hands and heartbreak on the agenda. That night she had remembered especially well. 
The fourth had been about a year ago now, and although she had tried to forget it, it had been burned into the back of her mind like a scar that would never heal. 
This would be the fifth time, and this time she knew better.
Each sidewalk rendezvous went the same way. Every time. And worse yet, they always ended the same.
“What is this scene?” Lafayette asked, genuinely confused.
“It starts innocent enough, doesn’t it? Just two friends on a sidewalk. But this is how it goes,” she laid out the scene for him. “You’ll reach into your pocket and pull out a cigarette. I’ll tell you how unhealthy it is, but you’ll smoke anyway. We’ll smile and laugh, until it gets to the point where we don’t want to be friends anymore. Then you’ll lean in and kiss me, or, at least, I’ll be wishing you’d kiss me.
Not such a bad scene, is it? Except every time it ends the same. You’ll wake up in someone else’s bed and break my heart. I’m just so tired of letting you do this to me! I’ve finally figured you out, and it’s not going to happen again. You’re my best friend, Lafayette, but I can’t keep letting you hurt me.”
When she had finished her rant, a quietness settled between the two of them. Lafayette watched her carefully, waiting to see if she had anything else to say, but it seemed that she had gotten everything off her chest now.
“That’s not what’s going to happen this time,” he finally said.
She looked into his eyes to figure out if she really believed him. Did she really want to believe him? “No? How can you be sure?”
“There are a few things in your “Lafayette breaks Y/n’s heart” equation that have changed. First of all, I stopped smoking a while ago,” he informed her.
Y/n was beyond surprised. For as long as she had known him, he had always been a smoker. It was part of his personality and was synonymous with his name. If there were two things that she was sure she could count on, it would be Lafayette smoking cigarettes and breaking her heart. Had he really quit?
“Second,” Lafayette continued on, “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“You’re not?” She almost sounded disappointed.
“Not this time. We learned our lesson, didn’t we?” He sighed, adjusted his jacket, and let his eyes fall to the cement at his feet. “You’ve ruined me. I’m never going to be able to love anyone the way I love you. And God, I love you so much.”
His heart felt heavy, like it was sinking further and further into his chest and he didn’t know if he would be able to find it again. There was a moment of silence to mourn something that had been lost. “You know I love you. You know that, right?”
Another certain truth. “Of course I do.”
“Good. I couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t know. I love you, and I can’t tell you how much I hate that that isn’t enough.”
She smiled. The kind of smile you give when you know that something lovely is coming to an end. Sometimes there is nothing you can do but smile.
His voice was tender when he spoke again. “No one ever told me that being in love would hurt this much. Am I a sadist for wanting to love you more?”
“No, darling, you’re just a romantic. That’s the worst we could be.”
Lafayette nodded because he couldn’t find it inside himself to smile. His town car showed up to take him to the airport at that moment. He bit the inside of his cheek, considering the different things he had enough time to say. Lafayette shook his head when he came to the decision that there was nothing left to say. He had already made it to the car and opened the door when he changed his mind.
“You know,” Y/n addressed Lafayette once more. “This might be crazy, but no matter what happened between us, I always thought it would be you and I in the end.”
Lafayette paused and pulled away from the car. He hesitated before making his way to Y/n. He gently held her chin between two fingers, looking her deep in her eyes as if he was searching for her soul.
“To the moon and back, remember?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then parted from her and got in the waiting car.
Not everyone gets the fairytale ending you see in movies. But they loved. Really loved. And that was enough.
Real love isn’t like the movies. No, it’s painful and warm and terribly strong. Mostly it’s good.
117 notes · View notes