#i honestly didn't even need to write this

[sidneywasfound]

DOLCE | Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader x Lando Norris

SUMMARY; Franco cheated on her. Regretful, he looks for her. She is making a new life, taking revenge for Franco's actions,Knowing exactly how to get on his nerve, and he didn't know with who she would begin this new facet of her life.

WARNINGS; ANGST with a Fluffy ending!, Franco being a dick,Franco cheating,Crying,suggestive themes,talks and mentions of sex but not actual smut,Bad English writing English is not My first lenguage,Song quotes with original lyrics and translation. a little bit of SMAU, not My Best work so be kind

WORD COUNT; 1.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE; Firstt i wanted to thank you all for your support!! Seriously i love you all ♡ and second, This fic is inspired on DOLCE by Cazzu i've been listening to this song in loop all the day so yeah

Now playing...DOLCE by Cazzu

You remember it as if it were the first time,That warm kiss that Franco gave you every time you arrived,Only this time you were leaving."Speak up and pray if whatever you are about to say is a damn excuse." You said picking up your bag from the floor facing the open the door."i'm sorry...I was drunk and I didn't tell you because-" You shut the door right on his face and with tears in your eyes you walked towards your car.

He didn't even tell you, it happened three months ago, and he didn't tell you?. You opened your phone seeing the photo of him kissing that girl, that girl who said she was just a friend, you even liked her posts and she liked yours.

3 months later...

"I'm better than ever" You said looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, on the counter there was some nail polish and makeup.You sighed and went to your closet,Searching through your dresses you saw a dark red silk fabric highlighting between them, you slowly pulled it out but when you saw the whole piece you quickly threw it back into the closet,a knot formed in your throat and tears didn't wait to fall

"This damn dress..." You didn't even know if that phrase would help you feel better,Franco said it that same night, where he took you to his hotel room and delicately undressed you while repeating that pharse.'This damn dress...'

Your breathing was fast, you quickly grabbed your black tube dress and closed the closet

You went out in that dress, you were going to a club for your friend's birthday so nothing too exagerated. Sitting at the bar you watched your still cocktail on the table,The music made the liquid vibrate a little 'why do i bother in trying?' You said to yourself. You got up and when you turned around you crashed into someone."s-shit... i'm sorry i didn't-" When you look up you saw no one else but Lando Norris himself, how embarrasing you tought, In addition to being hurt by your breakup, you just crashed into Lando

"oh no. Shit how embarrasing!" You covered your face slightly as he laughed. "Don't worry, it was my mistake." You already knew each other, Franco introduced you two,sometimes you greeted each other in the paddock, is Nice to see him for the last time

"Are You ok...?" He said putting his hand on your shoulder, your breathing was laborated and your eyes crystallized."yes shit...I just need some fresh air" He quickly grabbed your arm and guide you all over the place to the exit, where the breeze of air hit you and relaxed your whole body."Thanks..." You said still holding on to his arm

"Someone did something to you?" Lando said grabbing your waist "what? Oh nonono, i'm just a little bit tired..."You said fixing your dress."I think I should go back, my friend is waiting for me..." you said turning towards the door making Lando grab you again."You're not going anywhere like this." Your way of walking was clumsy and you were still holding your dizzy head with your hand.

You sat on the sidewalk and covered your face as you burst into tears,Lando opened his eyes wide and sat beside you putting an arm on your shoulder."what- what's wrong?" He said nervously.

"it's just-" You said as your voice your trembled,honestly you hated seeing how people on Twitter supported Franco 'I'm sure she cheated first' or 'i would've done the same cause she is prettier' or just any bullshit justifying Franco's actions. But you kept quiet, you saw how THAT girl said that there were no broken hearts, that she was just a new girlfriend, not a lover.

And though you didn't want to make any statements for the media, you had reached a limit, a limit that hurt you like a stab in your chest, carrying all the weight and guilt on your back. You just wanted to spit out all your hatred and let off all your steam.

"I'm tired of pretending everything is okay when it clearly isn't!" You said with rage,Your tears fell down your cheeks while Lando pulled you into a hug,pressing your face on his chest.

"is this because of...Franco?" Unable to speak through crying, you nodded."Why don't we go home? We can forget about that dickhead..." Lando said trying to cheer you up, you nodded as he stood up putting his coat around your shoulders.

That night Lando took you in his car to his house, the two of you stayed curled up in his bed looking at the large window that illuminated the room with the moonlight. They stared at each other as you caressed his cheek, without any remorse he pulled you into a warm kiss.

2 months later...

"Te creí,y yo no doy más de una oportunidad"

"I believed you,And I don't give more than one chance "

You looked at your phone and saw how he now acted innocent now, pretending and saying that I was aware of this 'extracurricular' relationship. You looked at yourself in the large mirror and started putting on your makeup, your playlist started playing in the background, A guitar rhythm reached your ears as you continued to look at yourself in the mirror, DOLCE by cazzu began to play.

"Ojalá te dure eso de aparentar. Mujeres bonitas ninguna real"

"I hope this 'pretending' lasts for you. Pretty women, none real"

You remember those afternoons watching the sunset while you cuddle with him tangled in a blanket. How you did sacrifice thousands of opportunities to be with him, leave your country to travel with him for the season.

"Como Yo, que contigo estaba a morir y a matar"

"like me,that for you i was willing to die and kill"

And you saw how she didn't even bother to go see him race,she only posted something if he reaches podium and then just photos on a yacht with him. You actually expected him to realize that you were there from the beginning. And it is better for him to know that if he ever looks for that support from his partner, he won't find it.

"Dudo que una así te vuelvas a encontrar

me voy pero antes me voy a vengar."

"I doubt you'll ever meet a girl like me again

I'm leaving but first I'm going to take revenge"

You headed to your closet to pull out the soft, fine, dark red silk fabric that was sticking out from between the dresses and gave it a Big glance to appreciate it. You wore that dress when you met Franco at an event, it was the dress that made him fall in love with you. You dropped your clothes, leaving you in your underwear, to start putting on the dress.Today was the FIA awards, and you would accompany Lando, to Hard launch your relationship. And why not show off that beautiful DOLCE & GABBANA dress to show him what he's missing? You were having the best time ever, Lando was kind and good, you loved everything about him.

A Besides, it was to be expected that a proud guy like Lando would love to make everyone know that you were his, that he would be getting that dress out of you that night, and he loved knowing that Franco would be mad and jelous. You were waiting for him to come in his luxury sports car and get you, you already felt the sweet taste of revenge on your tongue

You took a big breath as you grabbed your purse,Fluffy dark red coat and fixed your hair before going out.

"yo también sé cómo portarme mal...

y se bien que hacer para hacerte llorar"

"I also know how to misbehave...

and i know exactly what to do to make You cry"

You sighed and turned off the lights in your house, put away your makeup and tidied everything.You sighed nervously and looked at yourself in the mirror for the last time thinking 'This is what he deserves for being a dick...'Reoste And you grabbed your cell phone, turning off the music to put it in your purse, without forgetting to listen another line of the song

"a ver si aprendes a valorar..."

"to see if you learn to value me..."

You smiled and put it in your purse, You heard a horn and went fastly to the door. And there it was, Lando Norris right in front of You "Fuck...You are gorgeous." He said putting a hand on your waist and kissing you,You smiled and walked towards his car."don't get to cocky tonight Norris!" You scoffed getting into the as he laughed."i can't help when i know that this idiot is going to be wanting you all night long" He said getting into the car and putting a hand on your to squeeze your thigh.

When they arrived at the place, the paparazzis started taking pictures of you two like crazy, Lando grabbed you by the waist and posed with you."it's going to be a long night..." It was impossible to ignore Franco's gaze on you all night, especially when Lando noticed it and started kissing you or putting an arm around you. Although it was too funny to see him like that while his girlfriend didn't even notice.

"I really hope that everyone who calls him Casanova or a Flirt realize what an idiot he is, do You think the dates he took me on were his idea?, but of course not!, Do you really think a man like him is a casanova when I had to teach him how to basically have a girlfriend?, I don't believe it...I don't believe it." You said confessing for the first time your thoughts on the situation in a interview after keeping quiet for so long."I hope you know there's a little bit of me in every single part of that person and every time that person does something nice I want you to think, 'Did that really come completely from him?'." You laughed."And now that i'm in a very healthy relationship with my boyfriend i understood how toxic was it when i was with this person...but i really hope he is happy now! and I wish him the best of luck, no hard feelings!".

"se te olvidó que lo que sabes te lo enseñé yo"

"You forgot that I taught you what you know"

[riptides-n-roses]

Changes was so good!! I love how you said you didn’t want to make your page just smut bc tbh I love reading Roman fics on here but they’re mostly smut and I really want some sweet fluff 🥹looking forward to reading your future work

Ask and you shall receive! I love writing smut don't get me wrong but I honestly believe that connecting with said character should be taken more into light!

just us - roman reigns

⛧pair: roman reigns x reader

⛧ tags: @88changemymind @reigns-prophecy @cyberdejos2 [huge thank you to anon]

⛧ no warnings! fluff only and a very passionate roman ♡

⛧ hi again! as I said in the beginning , I'm still testing out what I like and don't like to write about. And I enjoy writing smut don't get me wrong (huge thank you to everyone showing love to all of my ffs on here it means a whole lot) but I would love to write more fluff (especially if it's roman because he's so fine 😫) - again short because this is an imagine.

⛧ after a stressful day, roman decided you needed some relief.

⛧ word count: 526

Your head was aching from staring at your screen all day. You had many things to check off of your weekly schedule and didn't want to see anything else relating to it or else you were gonna throw a fit.

Your partner, Roman, took notice of your behavior. He observed carefully as to how you dealt with your weeks and whatever errands needed done. He hated that you were stressed and didn't go out.

He decided that you shouldn't be too worked up on errands and wanted you to relax. Roman decided to take a day off from wrestling and give you a day to remember.

You were at your desk, rubbing your temples as you finished some work for your job. He slowly approached you, making sure not to scare you.

"Hey, babygirl" He started, gently massaging your shoulders "Busy day?"

"Yeah..." you muttered "I feel like I can't even take a few minutes to wind down sometimes."

"That's the problem, y/n. You're not allowing yourself to rest, and that's not healthy."

You went a little silent from his words, realizing that he was right. You couldn't remember the last time you took time to take care of your mental state.

"How about you and I go out? I'll treat you to anything you want." He offered.

You turned around from your chair to see your partner, patiently waiting for your answer. You smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"That sounds amazing, actually."

"Good. Pick out something cute to wear. I've made a reservation for dinner."

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

Roman couldn't keep his eyes off you the entire date: You were happily chatting with him about everything recent you've took interest in while the both of you ate dinner. You talked about your recent change in music taste and new hobbies that you've tried. Roman couldn't help but admire how you felt like yourself and he kept smiling the entire time.

"I'm glad I made the right decision." He thought to himself, "I really wanted y/n to take time to relax and be herself."

After dinner, the both of you went sightseeing, admiring the city lights and various buildings. He treated you to ice cream, slow dancing, and whatever you needed for self care.

He happily listened to you singing to your favorite songs, dancing to whatever caught your attention, and you laughing at whatever you found funny on your phone. Your laughter was his favorite to listen to.

When you returned home, the both of you went up to your shared room, deciding to end the night with a good movie to watch.

"Wow! Today was amazing. Thank you so much, baby!" You exclaimed, hugging Roman and giving him a kiss.

"It's no problem, babygirl. You deserve to have some time like this." He smiled, kissing your lips softly.

As the movie played throughout, Roman couldn't help but notice you weren't saying anything. Concerned, he turned to find you sound asleep, exhausted from today.

He giggled and gently placed a blanket over you, keeping you warm. He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, babygirl. Sweet dreams."

[zepskies]

Aww thank you, lovely friend!! 🥹💕 I tried my best to end this series with a bang lol, but also in a hopefully satisfying way that ties up the most important loose ends. I canNOT wait to dive into your thoughts on the grand finale!!

well, what a start! the action scenes were playing so vividly in my head, i loved all the details <3 and mato being a good son-in-law! love to see it 🤣

Ooh I'm so glad the action was gripping and vivid enough for you!! I don't love writing action scenes because it can be a lot of moving parts, but I try my best to make sure certain details stick out. And yesss Mato is on his A game now actually working with Dean! loll

felt a variety of emotions with this lol. sammy!!! i had a feeling he'd hear the commotion, so glad he's back!💓 (by now i think i've established my love for sam pretty well. 😂) i felt a bit confused too because cas what are you doinggg 😩 hopefully playing chess or something. 🤔 and it makes me sad that sam lost his hat, but his horse!!🥺 i'm not sure if it was his personal horse (like dean's baby) or not, however they shared a journey together :') wherever he ended up, i hope he's alright 💕

Oh I don't blame you loll. 😅 The "wtf?!" feeling with Cas was very intentional, even with the "yay!" of Sam being back in the game (even though he lost his hat and horse 🥲). But your instincts are right -- both of them were definitely playing chess on that one. I'm actually glad you wondered if it was Sam's personal horse because it's a thought I had and wondered if I should include that detail. In my head it wasn't his personal horse, but like you said, still a horse he shared a journey with. 💙 Though I also didn't specify this in the chapter, Cas/the soldiers took possession of Sam's horse, but he got him back afterwards (in the aftermath of it all).

phew 😅 also i cannot stop picturing the colonel from kfc every time sanderson gets mentioned 😭 white suit and all, the image won't leave my head loll

ahahaha yesss that's exactly what I was picturing, with Asmodeus's punk ass. 😂😂

absolutely beautiful <3 may he rest peacefully :(

Aw thank you for highlighting that line and Tahatan's dying words -- def one of my favorite lines for this entire series honestly.

i still don't like him but i will admit, this made me chuckle a little 😂 i really feel for mila and her people. it's just so unfair to be uprooted from your home like that :( and of course that grimy gremlin would go back on his word. the anxiety of it all 😩

Otaktay's redemption arc is slow on this one lol but I liked giving him that throwaway line. 😂

Oh yes, I drew historically from the "Trail of Tears" in American history, where the Native Americans/Indians were forced from their lands and they had to travel onwards to find new territory. It's a dark time that tends to be glossed over.

Yuuup gotta have our "bad guy goes back on his word" moment! 😅 If you've ever seen the movie Prince of Egypt, it's like that moment when the Jews are being chased after by the Pharaoh Rameses after he initially released them from slavery.

awwwww hell yeah i know that's right dean!!!😭🤍

hahaa YES! Dean's made his choice. 😌

ah yes that delicious pre-established relationship danger and peril angst, my hearttt 🥺 i love them sm<3

That moment where there's no time for goodbye, knowing you mind not see your loved one again. 🥲

i will admit this made me giggle 😭 I'm so sorry dean lmaoo :') the fight scenes were so cool though!! again, very vivid in my mind. didn't expect the otaktay save, but i'm glad he's gained some sense. and oh jack, i am glad he was spared but he fr just needs to distance himself from the colonel and his bs 🤠

ahaha I thought it was kinda funny too, ngl. 😂 Aw yay!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fight scenes and that they felt vivid in your mind! Otaktay did step up, didn't he? Some new respect is brewing between him and Dean (finally), and you're very right loll. Jack just needs to go home and start a new life. Same with Cas and Benny tbh. 🥲

this was so cute 🥺 i was worried for her, but once again we see she's just as strong as she is stubborn loll

Oh yeah, Mila's still as tenacious and stubborn as ever! lol Pregnant ladies still kick ass, amirite? 😘

period benny. goodbyeeeeee and good riddance colonel 💅🏽 Šóta choosing peace was so mature of him, i'm glad he's not being so hotheaded anymore. completely understandable though given all that has happened.

Right?!! 😂 Begone, bitch~

And Šóta is finally maturing -- his father's death hit him hard, and he's learning what it takes to be a true leader. 💜

crying. just the sweetestttt 💞💞 to no one's surprise, i'm so glad sam decided to stay longer 🤣💗 given the circumstances i'm not sure how often he would be able to visit once he returns to his city civilian life, but at least for now he gets to spend time with his brother and good people -- family :3💘

Sam wants to stay with his bro as long as possible now that he's found him, especially for his nephew's birth. 🥹 And for that reason too (not knowing if he'll be able to visit again, or if so, how often). Family indeed! 💞💞

this had me meltinggggg 💓 they're going to be the sweetest parents. they're already so sweet to each other, i can't 🥺

You know, I did intend to stop here with Mila and Dean, but maaaaybe I'll have to come back to see how they're doing as parents and pillars of their tribe. 😏💓

sobbing. i love them so much, this was the most beautiful ending 💕 another wonderful series zep!!🤍:)

Omg thank you so much, Julia!! You don't know how wonderful it's been to get your support on this very niche little series that I didn't know if anyone would even want to read. 🥹 I always appreciate your input, but especially on The Honorable Choice/Outlander series. 💕

Outlander - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!! 🥳 Now, the actual grand finale…

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, blood and violence, angst, fluff, and spice.~

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: One People

Dean straps on his bow and arrow, but first he takes up his gun from his thigh holster. Then he saddles up Mato and climbs up on his back.

The horse is raring to go, and for once he responds to the firmness of Dean’s tone and trusts him enough to obey his commands.

Šóta, Otaktay, and the other men do the same with their horses. Soon, they’re thundering down the hill into the village.

It’s already chaos.

Dean recognizes the blue uniforms of the U.S. Cavalrymen tearing through tipis and shooting with rifles and revolvers. They must’ve tracked Šóta and his men back to the village.

Men and horses are the main targets, but women and children are getting caught in the crossfire. Šóta purposefully knocks his horse into an officer who had his weapon aimed at Misae and her two daughters. Otaktay guides them in the opposite direction, pointing the way to escape into the forest.

Dean rides onward through the village. He and Mato leap over fallen bodies and horses, and Dean shoots at an officer who would’ve shot him first. He has to be careful with his bullets though. He only has two left.

He fights his way to the center, all the while searching for any sight of Mila’s dark hair. It’s almost impossible to see with so many people running and screaming and fighting. But when he hears a familiar voice, Dean cuts to an abrupt stop.

Chief Tahatan rides his horse, white and dappled black. He wields an ax as the horse rears up on his hind legs and lets loose a powerful bray. Just ahead of him is Colonel Sanderson, flanked by Benny and another officer. The Colonel holds a rifle poised in his hands.

“Stop!” Dean shouts.

He rides hard towards the scene. He takes aim with his gun, and he shoots. The bullet clips Sanderson in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he recoils from the force of the bullet and misses his shot.

Dean’s just not fast enough.

The Colonel’s bullet ricochets off the ground and hits Tahatan’s horse. The animal whinnies and buckles, and he brings Tahatan down along with him, rolling onto his side and crushing the Chief’s legs and most of his torso under the horse’s weight. Dean hears the crunch of bone as the Chief utters a stifled grunt.

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Other officers come to join him, both on their horses and on foot. A few of them have wrangled women and their children, along with a few men. One man is dragging Mila along by the arm, even though she pulls and struggles against his hold. He has a long, jagged cut over one closed eye that streams with blood, and Dean doesn’t have to wonder how it got there. The man holds Mila’s own knife to her throat.

Dean’s heart falls into his stomach as he meets her gaze. Hers is angry, until she finds him. Her brown eyes are relieved and hopeful, but then worried for him. Dean reads it all there. He knows her face as well as he knows his own.

“Now this is what we call an interesting development,” Sanderson says, dragging Dean’s attention back to him.

Dean only feels moderately better when Šóta, Otaktay, Chatan, and a couple of the other men come to flank him on either side. Weaya manages to shuffle away from the officer at her back, just to go to Tahatan. He’s still lying there under his horse, breathing shallowly. Šóta itches to climb down from his horse and go to his father, but he can’t allow Dean to stand on his own.

“Apparently your death has been greatly exaggerated, son,” Sanderson says. He glances at Benny, who wears a grim, guilty frown.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean says, his voice laden with grit. His hand tightens on his raised gun.

Sanderson tsks at him while Jack wraps a rag tightly around his arm to help stem the bleeding. Afterwards, he adjusts his blue jacket and his Stetson.

“Is this really how you’ve been living for all these months? Like a dog, sleeping in the thatch with the fleas,” he remarks as he glances around. But his gaze stops on Mila. His brows crunch together as recognition dawns in his eyes.

“Ah, now I see why,” he says. He reaches for his pistol at his belt and points it at Mila, like it’s merely an extension of his hand. Dean’s jaw clenches. Chatan and Šóta become even more tense; their horses shift in place, picking up on their riders’ unrest. Sanderson notes their reactions, and finally Dean’s too.

“Instead of putting this savage bitch down, you took her for yourself, didn’t you?” Sanderson wonders aloud. His face breaks into amusement, as his deep chuckle echoes in the clearing. “You threw it all away. A promising career, your respect as a man, and even your life. A traitor to your goddamn country. And for what?”

His thumb pulls back the safety on his revolver.

“Enough, you bastard. You deal with me,” Dean tersely demands. He slowly lowers his gun, and his last bullet. “Let her go. Let them all go, and you can have me. Court martial me. Hell, put me in front of a firing squad, or put me down like a dog if that’s what you want… But let them go.” 

Mila breaths in sharply. She stares at Dean like she wants to protest.

“Ah, but ya see, I didn’t come here for you,” Sanderson says. Without taking his aim off Mila, his shifts his gaze down to Tahatan, who struggles for every breath. “I’m gonna wash this land clean, from here to the West Coast. However long it takes.”

“Colonel!” an officer calls out. He approaches on a horse, though he leads a man by a rope that ties his wrists behind his back.

Dean’s eyes widen in shock. It’s Cas, and he has Sam as his captive. Sam is dirtier and more disheveled since Dean saw him off not too long ago. He’s lost his hat and his horse, but he doesn’t look afraid when he meets Dean’s gaze, then the assessing Colonel.

“Mr. Winchester. I should’ve known,” Sanderson says dryly. “Here to reacquaint yourself with your brother? Though I’ve got a feeling you already have.”

“What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me?” Sam says. “In case you’ve forgotten, I work for the government too. I’m a prosecutor for all the surrounding counties in Kansas City.”

Sanderson raises a brow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me, son?”

“It should, Colonel,” Sam says. He nods at his brother. “The world already thinks he’s dead. Fine. But there’s plenty of people who know I traveled to Fort Laramie. People high up in the chain of command. If you hurt me, my brother, or these people, someone’s gonna hear about it. And soon.”

“He’s got a point there, Colonel,” Benny says.

“You shut the fuck up!” Sanderson barks at his captain. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you down where you stand. You and Novak. But believe you me, I’ll be dealin’ with you later.”

Sanderson continues to seethe. He thinks hard about the decision he makes next as he stares down at Sam, and then back up at Dean. He grits his teeth, his mustache twitching. Dean holds his breath, though he briefly meets eyes with his brother.

Slowly, Sanderson lowers his weapon away from Mila. Dean can breathe again, if shallowly. He doesn’t drop his guard though. In fact, he watches Sanderson even closer.

“I’ll give you dirty mongrels one hour to clear out of here,” Sanderson says, his eyes narrowed. “Anything left gets tied down and burned to charcoal.”

With that, he sharply tugs on his horse’s reins. He commands his men to fall back, and like the soldiers they are, they obey. Benny and Cas both cast Dean a backwards glance—one that tells Dean that he still has the loyalty of his friends. He now realizes that Cas brought Sam back for a purpose; it wasn’t to hurt him, but to help him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “capture” was Sam’s idea.

After the soldiers clear out of the area with the Colonel, Dean and the other men dismount from their horses. He beelines for Mila, gathering her into the safety of his arms. Then he spares a hand to grab his brother’s shoulder as he smiles.

“I think I’m more glad to see you the second time,” Dean remarks.

“I’ll take that,” Sam says. His grin is infectious, but Dean returns his attention to his wife. He touches her cheek and runs his assessing gaze over her body. He frowns as he examines the thin cut along her neck where the soldier pressed the blade of her knife.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” he asks.

Mila shakes her head. “I’m fine.” Though she inspects him the same way with a wandering hand across his chest. Dean takes that hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

It falls when he hears Weaya crying. She sits beside three other women, including Šóta’s mother.

“Father,” Šóta says lowly. His voice is a rasp as he kneels beside Tahatan’s broken body, holding his hand. The chief manages to raise his head slightly. He looks at his son, and then his gaze travels. Eventually, it falls on Dean.

Tahatan smiles.

“Under this sky,” he says. “We are one people.”

 He takes three more labored breaths before his eyes close. Šóta lays his father’s limp hand over his chest, which no longer moves.

Šóta’s mother gently raises her husband’s head to remove his long headdress. Among other things, it’s made of leather, glass beads, horsehair, and eagle tail feathers. Each feather represents a warrior’s honor earned in war, like a soldier’s insignia. 

With shaking hands, she places it on Šóta’s head. He takes a deep breath, and he looks up at the many tear-stained faces that mirror his own.

“We have to go,” he says.

Sam stays to help mobilize the tribe. He helps a mother join her children into one of the caravans, then he and Otaktay heft rolled up tipis and supplies into the back of it.

“You are a law man?” Otaktay asks him.

Sam nods. “That’s right.”

“Make better laws,” Otaktay says, and walks away.

Sam is left with a bemused look on his face. Dean comes over and thumps him on the back.

“Making friends?” he says dryly.

“Don’t think so,” Sam replies. He shakes his head and follows his brother over to the second caravan.

“Eh, consider yourself lucky. That guy pretty much hates my guts,” Dean whispers.

Sam raises his brows. “What?”

Dean explains the story in its simplest, briefest terms. Meanwhile, the mood around their packing is somber and quiet.

For Mila, it feels wrong. It’s wrong for them to have to leave the river where they’ve tilled and nurtured the land for three generations. It’s wrong to leave Chief Tahatan’s body wrapped beside Takoda’s on the hill without at least one proper night of mourning. She feels her grief down to her very core, but all she can do is sit in the caravan beside her mother and hold protective hands around the small swell of her stomach. Her tears fall silently down her cheeks and dissolve between the indigo beads on her dress.

She only raises her head when Chatan comes to check on her and her mother. He touches Mila’s cheek, drying her tears there. He leans in to kiss Weaya’s hand.

“We leave soon,” he says.

“Where is Dean?” Mila asks.

“Helping Šóta,” Chatan replies, but he stops short and corrects himself. “He helps our Chief.”

A few moments later, the caravans begin to move as the horses pull with the reins. Šóta leads at the front with a few of the warriors, but the rest of them ride strategically around and behind the caravans. Sam and Dean fall back to ride beside Mila’s caravan, where Chatan sits at the helm. Sam has been given the horse of a fallen warrior, while Dean rides Mato.

Despite how low she feels, Mila smiles at the sight of her horse allowing Dean to ride him, even with a saddle and bridle.

“Mato is being agreeable,” she remarks.

“You sound surprised,” Dean says, teasing slightly. “Told you I’d get him to trust me eventually.”

“More like wear him down,” she quips back.

“Hey, he impregnated my mare. Without my say so, I might add. I’d say we’re proper father and son-in-law.”

“Yes,” Chatan chimes in wryly. “That is what that means.”

Mila scoffs at him, but the gleam of good humor in his eyes amuses her. She smiles as she rubs a hand over her belly. Dean smiles too. It’s strange that he can still do that after a night like tonight, but seeing Chatan do it, along with Sam, and Mila, and her mother too, it gives him hope for them—for all of them.

Until the first gunshot fires into the air.

Dean freezes. His body coils tight, and he turns to look sharply over his shoulder.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Colonel Sanderson went back on his word. His cavalrymen are gaining behind them on horseback, hooting and hollering like it’s a game for sport. His jaw clenching in both anger and determination, Dean tells Chatan to speed up the caravan. He locks eyes with Mila for a moment.

Be safe, he tries to say with that look.

Then he gives Sam a nod; together they speed up to alert Šóta at the front.

“They’re gaining on us,” Dean says, gesturing behind them. “We need to lead them away from the caravans and pick ‘em off—as many as we can.”

Šóta nods in grim agreement, but he has a moment of hesitation as he considers Dean.

“You go with the caravans,” he says.

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m ending this. Once and for all.”

“You are willing to fight your people?” Šóta asks.

The set of Dean’s determined face doesn’t change.

“I’m protecting my people,” he says. He looks to Sam. “Stay with the caravans. Make sure they get across the river.”

Sam agrees, and the men split ways. Dean turns Mato away from the group along with Šóta and Otaktay, and a few other warriors. The caravans continue with Sam to help guide them. Mila clings to the edge and watches with growing dread as her husband rides farther and farther away from her.

Dean can’t allow himself to look back. Instead of drawing his gun, he reaches for his bow strapped to his back and an arrow from his quiver. He takes aim at the first soldier he sees raise his gun, along with a steadying breath, and he shoots his arrow before the other man can fire. The arrow embeds itself in the man’s chest and knocks him clean off his horse.

Šóta and Otaktay follow suit. They shout out yips and battle cries on the air as they take aim. The soldiers begin to scatter out of their formation. They weren’t expecting the Lakota to go on the offensive. Sanderson has conveniently let his men ride ahead of him, but Dean hears him giving the orders from behind. The Colonel has his left arm wrapped in a sling while he holds his gun aloft.

“All right, mustang,” Dean says to Mato, tightening his hands on the reins. “Remind ‘em why they should be scared a’ you.”

He gives the stallion a subtle kick. It’s just enough for him to pick up into a full gallop. Dean tucks his head down and lets the horse speed forward like a bullet carving across the plain. The soldiers take aim, but that’s when Šóta and Otaktay join in from behind. They begin to take down the uniformed men, one by one as they weave between bullets. 

Dean tears between two officers and unbalances them. Mato, with his big head and chest, bulldozes straight through them. They shout in surprise and fear, and one of them even topples off his horse. Dean banks left and turns Mato around to finish what he started.

He retrieves his knife from his thigh holster and slices into one man’s neck, making him choke on his own blood. Dean forcefully takes the rifle off another man, and after flipping it around, hits him dead between the eyes with the butt of it—once, then twice until his nose breaks. He careens back off his horse into the dirt. Dean wracks the rifle and shoots the man for good measure.

The sound of a safety clicking back alerts him and turns his head, but he’s too late.

An arrow flies into the officer’s throat.

Dean looks over sharply. He finds Otaktay, lowering his bow.

Dean’s eyes widen. The other man just saved his life.

Dean nods in thanks, and Otaktay slowly returns the gesture. The moment is cut short, however, when Dean sharpens in alarm. Instead of opening his mouth to warn, he knows he has no time, not even to grab another arrow. He just throws his knife.

It carves through the air and hits Jack Kline where his arm meets his shoulder—his shooting arm that would’ve clipped Otaktay with his pistol. Jack falls off his horse and hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a hot rush. He groans in pain while clutching his arm. It’s not an easy wound, but he’ll live…as long as Otaktay doesn’t kill him first. Still on his horse, he towers over the younger man with another arrow notched.

“Wait!” Dean shouts.

He meant what he said about finishing this, but now looking at Jack, all Dean sees is a kid following orders. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, hundreds of miles away from home, just trying to make something of himself.

Otaktay looks up, wasting a precious second. Another beat, and a bullet tears into him, almost forcing him off his horse. Dean grits his teeth and speeds forward. Šóta rejoins them in time to help lead Otaktay away; he’s been hit in the side. There’s no telling how deep, but all Dean can focus on is the path ahead.

He comes face to face with Colonel Sanderson.

Dean raises his bow and arrow and ducks his head against another bullet, still shooting off his arrow. It misses its aim at the horse’s legs, but it spooks him enough to whinny in distress. It begins to buck off the Colonel.

“Whoa!” he shouts, trying to take back control of the horse. Dean rides in close and cracks a fist across Sanderson’s face. His head whips back with a pained grunt. Dean grabs his wrist and twists, until he feels tendons popping and the gun loosened from the other man’s hand. Then, Dean brings his elbow up into Sanderson’s nose and spills blood.

“Fuck!” Sanderson growls. He manages to land a punch of his own with his left arm, despite how it makes his shoulder bleed again. Dean recovers from the blow to his cheek and goes to grab that wound, digging in his fingers hard. He’s satisfied by the howl of pain Sanderson lets loose.

Dean doesn’t care if it’s a dirty tactic. He’s taking any opportunity he can, because right now, it’s not about his honor. It’s about protecting what’s his.

But Sanderson fights back just as dirty. He grabs Dean by the back of his neck and headbutts him, so hard he sees stars. Sanderson lands one more kick to Dean’s chest that almost sends him off of Mato. Dean has to grab on tight to the saddle and pull himself up, just in time for a lassoed rope to circle around his neck. Dean’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He slips his hand between the rope and his neck just in time before it tightens—because Sanderson tugs hard as he urges his horse into a gallop.

“Aw, sh—” Dean is yanked off Mato. He lands hard in the dirt, before he begins to be dragged across it.

Once again, the current is strong across Little Cheyenne. The first caravan has more horses to pull it through, but the caravan that Chatan is trying to lead starts to take on water. Mila and her mother sit behind him, along with Misae and her daughters, Tahatan’s widows, and Eyota and her husband.

The colt is doing his best to keep going, but Baby and two of the other horses are struggling in the pull of the river. They’ve hit a deeper patch under the water, and now it’s all the way up to Baby’s chest. She can’t handle the weight of the caravan along with the river’s current.

Sam comes closer with rope in hand, but Mila can see in his eyes that he’s trying to decide what to do. She grasps the edge of the caravan to pull herself up, and she points to the black mare.

“She needs help!” she calls out to him.

“Mila, sit down!” Chatan orders.

Mila turns back to her father with a determined set to her face. She knows his ankle has never healed entirely right. If he tries to do what she’s about to do, he’d probably fall into the river and get trampled by the horses. She knows what she must do.

She carefully stands up all the way and moves to the edge of the caravan, ignoring her father and mother trying to stop her. Sam’s eyes grow wide, but he tries to come in closer to support her. She steps out onto Baby’s back and slides into an astride position. The frigid water climbs up Mila’s dress and reaches her waist, making her shiver, but she ignores that too. She reaches out for Sam.

“Throw me the rope!” she calls out.

Sam follows her lead and does what she says. Mila not only catches the rope, but loops the ends of it around Baby’s bridle and around her chest. It’s hard work, especially because Mila has to tread water just to get the rope around the mare’s wide chest, but Sam helps her as much as he can.

When they’ve finished securing the ropes, Sam pulls ahead. With his horse leading Baby, she gets the momentum she needs to climb out of the dip, and eventually, cross the rest of the river.

Mila is sopping wet by the time they make it to the other side. Her braid has come loose, and so her hair becomes a black curtain around her face. She clings to Baby as she catches her breath, stroking the horse’s neck.

“Good girl. Big, strong girl,” she soothes. “Your father will be proud of you.”

Speaking of, Mila turns to look back. Across the river, the men are still fighting off the soldiers that sought to finish what they started last night. Mila scans with narrowed eyes for Dean.

“You all right?” Sam asks. He sidles up next to her and grasps her shoulder to make sure.

“Fine,” she breathes.

But she hesitates on a sharp inhale. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sure of what she’s seeing. Her mouth drops open in shock.

“Sam!” She points out the shape of a man she thinks is Dean. Sam follows her line of vision and becomes just as alarmed at what he sees.

Mila immediately takes her father’s knife from her shoe and cuts the ropes that bind Baby to the caravan. Mila puts her fingers to her lips and whistles sharply instead of kicking the mare. Baby sharpens to attention and heeds the command, just like she’s done for Dean a hundred times before.

Mila guides her back through the river.

Dean is being road hauled across the plain. He hits every bump, rock, twig, and dry patch of dirt in several yards as he twists and struggles to break free.

He lost his knife to save Otaktay, and he’s probably lost all his arrows along with his bow. Dean grits his teeth, as he can hear Sanderson’s insane hooting and hollering on the wind whipping past his ears, and not much else.

He doesn’t know where Šóta is, or if even Otaktay’s still alive, but his last thoughts aren’t about them. Instinctively, he thinks of his wife. It’s not even a coherent thought. It’s just her name, her face, her hand on his heart.

And the rope snaps.

Dean grunts as his momentum slows. He rolls across the dirt and grass to a stop. He probably has road burns and cuts and bruises all down his back, but at least he can stare up at the morning sun and breathe.

Heaving for free air, he tugs the rope from around his neck and shoves it off. He hears familiar horse hooves galloping his way. Somehow, he manages to raise his head.

Now, either the sun is playing tricks on him, or a black shape is thundering towards him.

Apparently, his eyes aren’t lying to him. Baby slows to a stop, and Mila climbs down from her back. Mila rushes to his side and kneels beside him after putting away her knife. She takes his face into her gentle hands.

“Dean?” she says, her voice tinged with desperation.

He grabs onto her wrist and smiles weakly, looking up at her soulful brown eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.

She sighs and shakes her head, despite the tears in her eyes.

“Be quiet,” she laughs. Dean just grins.

She cups the back of his neck and guides him up slowly into a sitting position. His back is a bloody mess, but they’ll deal with that later.

“You all right, brother?”

Dean’s smile drops. He clutches at Mila’s arm protectively, but he looks up at Benny Lafitte. His horse shifts in place. Dean finally notices Sam is there too, with his gun trained on Benny. But Benny’s gun is raised right back at Sam.

They’re joined by Colonel Sanderson. He wears a self-satisfied look on his face as he approaches with his pistol held aloft.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “Ain’t this a picture. Traitors and savages.”

Mila keeps her back to the Colonel; she stubbornly defends Dean with her body, even though he’s gathered her to his chest protectively. With his right hand, he subtly reaches for the gun holster at his thigh. One last weapon. One last shot.

He shares a look with Mila, silently asking her to trust him. She gives him a subtle nod.

“Captain Lafitte,” Sanderson addresses Benny, even though his gaze is straight on Dean and Mila. He holds Sam in his periphery. “Now’s the time to take a stand. Are you gonna serve your country and put these three in the ground where they belong, or are you gonna join ‘em?”

Benny stares back at his superior officer. He thought he understood before, but today is when he truly understands why Dean made his choice.

Benny lowers his weapon down to his side.

“This ain’t the law,” he says. “This ain’t justice. It’s just pride, plain and simple. Your pride, Colonel.”

After a moment of genuine surprise, Sanderson rolls his eyes. He shifts his gun off of Sam and points it at Benny next.

A trigger fires, but the bullet that hits its mark is not the Colonel’s.

It’s Dean’s, and it hits Asmodeus Sanderson between the eyes.

Dean lowers his silver, smoking Colt down at his side, where Mila moved just in time for Dean to take his shot. He holds her to him now, taking in deep breaths.

Benny and Sam both look to Dean with shock still in their eyes, but before either of them can say anything, they notice Cas stumbling over on foot with a wounded Jack Kline leaning heavily on him. They’re flanked on both sides by Šóta and Otaktay. The latter has a cloth tied tight around his middle. His bullet wound just looks like a nasty graze.

The other warriors that remain follow behind, and they have Mato and Baby in tow by their bridles.

Dean realizes that Cas and Jack are the only other survivors from the rest of the unit. Šóta has taken them prisoner. He orders the other men to force Benny off of his horse. They shove him closer to Cas and Jack.

Dean quickly tries to raise up onto his knees, though it’s hard for him to stand. Mila helps him the rest of the way, and he keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“We will make an example of these,” Šóta says, nodding at Cas, Jack, and Benny. They look rightly nervous, shifting their gazes towards Dean.

Dean raises his hands to placate Šóta (and hopefully reassure his friends).

“Šóta, I know these guys. They were my men,” he says. “They were just following the Colonel’s orders.”

“And what does that mean to me, Dean Winchester?” Šóta says. He climbs down from his horse, his headdress of feathers tousled as a breeze rushes through.

“It means they won’t follow us,” Dean says. “They won’t tell the Army what actually happened here. They’ll keep their word if I ask them to. So I’m asking you…trust me. Trust me like you’ve trusted me before.”

Šóta seems to consider it, even though he doesn’t exactly like the idea. Otaktay seems to like it even less.

“We won’t betray you, Chief,” Benny says to Šóta, and to the other warriors. “We respect you, and we don’t want any more trouble. For us, or for Dean.”

Šóta considers this with a tilt of his head. Before he decides, first, he turns to Otaktay. Other than Dean, he’s now the man Šóta trusts most.

Otaktay looks over at Dean. Between them, there’s an understanding. Finally, there’s also respect. Otaktay returns his gaze to his leader, and he nods.

Šóta expels a deep breath. He addresses the three soldiers.

“Go. Go in peace, or next time, there will not be peace,” he says.

The soldiers breathe in relief.

Dean steps forward with Mila’s help. There he shakes each man’s hand. He’s said goodbye to Cas and Benny before, but somehow, this feels even more final than the last.

Benny and Cas are given back their horses. They help Jack up first, then Cas climbs up with him. Benny mounts his own horse, and Sam, Dean, and the Lakota watch them leave the way they came.

It takes days to cross the plains and maneuver through the mountains, but Šóta leads the rest of the tribe to safety within Sioux territory. They find a place to settle along the Big Cheyenne River, northeast of the Black Hills.

There they will learn the land and what to plant and forage there for the late autumn harvest, as summer ends. There is where they will honor the dead who couldn’t make the journey. There is where their traditions will be celebrated, old and new.

Like today. The men have painted each other with blue circles around their faces and blue lines across their foreheads, chins, and cheekbones. The women are painted similarly in red. It symbolizes change in its many forms, but most of all, it symbolizes new relationships, and new responsibilities.

Today, it’s Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. This ceremony formally welcomes Dean into the tribe by marriage. It also recognizes Sam as his brother, and so, it acknowledges Sam as a friend to their tribe as well. They are now all family. One people.

Dean sits with his brother around the large firepit, where a roasted boar is already half-eaten. Dean has shared a lot of meals with these people, but somehow, this one is the best he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the company, he thinks, as he laughs at some old story Sam is trying to tell.

“No, no, no, that’s not what happened. Let me tell it—”

“What, so you can make stuff up?”

“Oh, I’m making stuff up?”

Mila giggles quietly, but it’s enough to earn Dean’s attention. She sits at his left, and he turns to her with an amused smile.

“What’re you laughing at?” he teases. His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in.

“You,” she replies. “You and your brother. You’re worse than me and Šóta.”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. He points over at her cousin, their esteemed Chief, who’s busy making shadow creatures with exaggerated voices to impress the kids. Right now, it’s a big grizzly bear that threatens to eat the closest child.

“Worse than the grizzly?” Dean says.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she says with a laugh.

That evening, Dean is glad he convinced Sam to start sleeping in his own tipi. He agreed to stay until Mila has the baby, but while Dean is grateful to have his brother here for a few more months, he still wants some much-needed privacy with his wife.

He “helps” her undress for bed, all the while distracting her with lingering kisses across her neck and shoulders, winding his fingers into her long hair. He wraps his arms around her and cups her full breasts from behind, satisfied by the arousing way she moans.

“They’re heavier,” Dean whispers in her ear, gently squeezing her breasts. She hums in response. “Your thighs and hips are thicker too, nice and soft for me.” He squeezes those too for good measure.

“I am changing,” she admits. “Are they good changes?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his lips moving against her throat. He gently turns her around and guides her down to lay on the bedding and furs. He palms at the best change of all—the growing swell of her belly. She’s gotten bigger, and growing a little more each week. Dean really wants to meet his kid.

He dips down to lay a path of slow, tender kisses down between her breasts, and over her belly. Mila smiles and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, brushing past his ears.

“Do you want a son, or a daughter?” she asks him. It’s not the first time she’s asked, but she wonders if his answer will change now, after everything they’ve gone through to get here. She finds that her own answer hasn’t changed.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t care. Either one.”

All he wants is for the baby to be healthy, and for Mila to be healthy too. He moves back up to claim her lips. When he kisses her like this, he hopes she knows what he’s really saying. Just in case, he says it anyway. He says it out loud to her for the first time.

“I love you,” he says. He pauses, then smiles a little. “You know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to.”

She smiles, because she knows. With her hand over his heart, she knows.

And when their son is born a few months later, she has a dream. She dreams of an eagle’s wings that shift from white to gold in the light.

Dean plans to give him a name he picked out weeks before, Elijah. It was his father’s middle name. But she will also give their son a name.

Ikíphi, the name her uncle, Chief Tahatan, gave Dean Winchester himself.

Because one day, she knows her son will be worthy of it.

AN: And there we have it! A more definitive end to Dean and Mila's story. 🥹

For those of you who read and enjoyed this, thank you so much for sticking with me through this sequel of The Honorable Choice. This was an idea that wouldn't let go of me once I started, and it's the first time that I've written something like this. 💖💖

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

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[fanged-fanfics]

Hello! Would you consider writing about Optimus comforting a depressed f reader? I'm extra emotional and having the sads for no (apparent) reason and I think cuddles from a giant softie would fix me. Thank you!

☆ Someone On Your Side — Optimus x Fem Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Hurt/Comfort || she/her pronouns for reader || Warning for themes of depression/lack of self care

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You honestly couldn't remember the last time you'd gotten out properly. Living at the Autobot base meant there was always a task or mission going on, so you had a lot of space to yourself. Even if the makeshift little room they gave you wasn't perfect, they tried their best to make a habsuite fitting for a human. The bed was a little too big and the furniture was a bit too spaced apart or not fully straight, but the effort was what mattered. You got accustomed to the surroundings after spending so much time there anyhow. It was hard to go out these days, and you didn't feel any motivation to take any invitations the 'Bots had given you. You were curled up in your bed, attempting to rest up the mental energy, when you heard a little knock at your door.

"Come in" you called tiredly, and the metal doors slid open. A tall, broad figure entered, you could hear metal pedesteps on the floor that approached you. A large servo very gently nudged you over so a heavy weight could sit beside you. You leaned your head up, seeing Optimus Prime himself. He made sure the doors closed back automatically before speaking. "Human. It came to my attention that you've been a rare sight around the base these days" he began gently. You sighed as you sat up a little "Oh, sorry if I worried you guys.. I haven't really been feeling myself lately". Optimus gave a thoughtful nod, "Have your rations spoiled? Is your berth not clean? I've tried to help the Autobots keep track of-"

"No, uh- it's nothing like that" you gently interrupted. Optimus' optics looked at you with concern. He reached a servo out, moving slowly and carefully as he did his best to pet your shoulder. "We're worried for you, human" Optimus said softly "Are you sick?". "No, Op, I'm- I'm sorry, I just- can't be out and about like I usually am" you said "I need some time". Optimus made a soft humming noise, reaching his servo down to tuck your blankets around you better. "I see. Then rest well, human. You will rise and do great things, in due time. I and the Autobots are here if you require anything" he said softly.

"Thanks, Prime" you said gently. You thought it over for a second before adding, "I do have.. one request, if that's okay?". Optimus' helm points perked up, listening intently "Anything". "Can you maybe... stay with me a bit? I know you're busy, but- I'd like the company" you asked, a little hesitantly. "Of course" Optimus said, motioning for you to make room. He waited until you shifted comfortably before laying behind you, his large arm wrapping loosely around your proximity and pulling you as softly as possible to his chassis. His battlemask slid open, and he rested his helm beside your head.

"Don't be discouraged, little spark" he said softly as you snuggled in "Even I have these moments, you know. No warrior is meant to fight restlessly". "Is that one of your many wise sayings?" You asked, and Optimus found himself smiling at the humor in your words. "It can be. I've millions of years of them to share" he said. You huffed a small chuckle, closing your eyes as his engine purred softly behind you. "If I may..." Optimus began softly, his nose gently nudging you in a tender nuzzle "I'll be happy to monitor your food intake and recharge habits. I know you've mentioned they haven't been the greatest, as of late". You hummed a bit as you thought over the offer. "Not a bad idea, honestly. Can I sleep on it?". Optimus nodded "Granted, of course"

You felt fatigue settle in your figure slowly, your mind finally feeling safe enough to nap. Optimus' rumbling system provided great background noise for you to rest against. You pressed more into his chassis, curling up the best you could while he used a servo to support your back. You sighed contently as you let your eyes fall shut, hearing melodious and deep humming as you began to drift off.

[bibibbon]

Hi, another idea. Delaware made a post talking about how Mina was anti gadget on the sport festival (she faced Aoayama who was wearing one, note how he doesn't anymore after that... maybe he does and I'm mistake) it was an Answer for an ask.

But it was noted how she think less of Aoayama and how no one in UA seems to care for Aoayama as a student till the big reveal.

It makes me think if Izu had a gadget...people would.hate on him. Many fics love make BK ruining his gadgets and I can see it but Mina went straight to the gadget (one may say that was a clever move on her part but it felt as if she was bullying him) so...I think if Izu was to use gadget ...he would be even more an odder duck.

I say this bc in my TTau. I want to have Izumi to wear gadgets to prevent her bones to shatter and we see A1 being shitty friends, ofc. Karma is coming to them.

Izumi sees how UA has no care in teaching how to use quirks and many heroes are content in use the basic. Mirio learned how to control his quirk alone (nighteye gets no credit here as he didn't lift a finger) and wonders what's the point in being a hero? Why do we need a hero anyway?

Hi @mikeellee 👋

I don't think mina is anti-gadget or she isn't anti-gadget on purpose, that is.

What I mean by this is that mina aimed for yuuga's belt because she thought it was the easiest way to take him out. Now, this is only fair as it definitely was the quickest way to win that fight as the problem with yuuga is that he is DEPENDENT on that support item and therefore he can't do much without it.

You can argue that her aiming for his support device is unfair, but that argument falls flat when the whole premise festival is to do whatever to win as long as it's not outright killing your opponent. The argument then falls flat again when you put this in a real-life villain vs. hero type of situation where people will do whatever, however cruel or nasty it may be, to win.

The thing is, yuuga still does wear his support item, but it blends in well with his hero costume, which is the only time he actually uses his quirk. The support item sticks out like a sore thumb when yuuga is in his sports kit, so maybe that's why you got confused.

I don't ever remember seeing mina stating or thinking that yuuga is less than her or anyone else because of his use of a support item.

Also, I think the lack of focus or care for yuuga before the traitor arc was both intentional and somewhat of a writing issue. Horikoshi deeply neglected the traitor plot surrounding yuuga, and because of that, we don't get much of yuuga or foreshadowing to his character arc. I also like to think that yuuga probably had a strong internal conflict within him due to the role he had to play and how he could never be who he wants to be due to the connections he has with AFO. Due to feelings of guilt and not wanting to cause harm by staying ignorant, yuuga probably tried and failed to distance himself from class 1A.

The argument kinda ends up falling apart when you do realise that in Canon izuku does have a gadget. Remeber the support item that Melissa made for his arm, yep izuku has that and he constantly wears it with his hero outfit and we don't see much comments on that.

All mights point to izuku was to not rely on support items which he has a point when it comes to that but does end up coming off as harmful advice if you take into account how All Might is as a character.

Again, I think it depends on the type of gadget that izuki would use for people to exploit it. Something such as his arm bands are okay because he can function without them, and honestly, the arm bands aren't easy to reach at all, not without izuku punching or hitting someone.

The TTAU sounds like a great way to tackle some of the issues that the narrative has. I do think that you should introduce a nuanced conversation when it comes to support equipment. Leading izumi to such a conclusion is also interesting because heroes are supposed to help, and hero schools are supposed to help you improve and strengthen your quirk, but ua does it with almost no direct support given to the students.

[squid-headcanons]

heyyy would you be open to doing a Hwang jun Ho x reader one shot lots of angst but ends with fluff?? The plot can be up to you :)))

night at sea

-> hwang jun-ho x reader || squid game oneshot

-> summary: after the death of your friend during your mission to find the island, you sit on the deck to think. jun-ho finds you sitting alone and decides to join you.

-> genre: angst -> fluff oneshot

-> warnings: death mention, cursing, nothing else really.

-> a/n: thank you for requesting!! i hope that i fulfilled your request, and i hope you enjoy!! this is my first time writing for squid game, and jun-ho, so i hope i did him justice! tysm again <3

The rain pounds down against your back as you sit on the deck, watching the waves crash around you. You were part of Gi-Hun's crew to track down the island, but you sincerely didn't think something like this would happen. One of your best friends, another crew member, had been hit by the explosion on the wrong island. You tried not to show emotion, but nights like these, you had to let it out.

Tears fell carefully from your cheeks as the ship swayed back and forth with ferocity. The night sky was staring at you, blaming you for joining the crew in the first place. You knew it was a bad idea, but it was part of your job. You couldn't turn it down. But risking your life for some idiotic, probably fake island where participants play some childhood games and die in the process? You couldn't take it anymore, this was fueled by delusions and you weren't having it.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as footsteps approached you. You turned your head to see Jun-Ho looking at you with confusion spread across his face. Turning back to the dangerous view in front of you, you ignored his existence. He was the one who insisted on this trip, along with Gi-Hun. You didn't want to deal with the delusions anymore.

“Hey, why are you out here so late? You need to get rest for tomorrow,” Jun-Ho said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was a little bit worried about you, afraid that you could possibly fall overboard due to the storm.

“Can't sleep,” you muttered, your gaze turning to the sky. “There's too much to think about to sleep.”

“What's on your mind?” Jun-Ho asked, sitting down beside you. He didn't mind the rain, he was honestly more concerned with you.

“The man that you killed during your stupid operation was my best friend. The one in the body bag underneath us right now? The man with a wife and children who I have to explain all of this shit to?” you said, the tears falling even more rapidly from your cheeks. Your voice was faltering, cracking under the pressure.

“... I'm so sorry ... for your loss. I really didn't know that there would be a bomb, and I'm sorry that he was the one to open the door. None of us could've known. However, if having someone to blame makes you feel better, so be it,” Jun-Ho said softly, staring out into the night sky with you.

“Why the fuck are we out here anyway?! All I know is that we're looking for some island that probably isn't even real, based on stories of shit that sounds super fucking unrealistic! I mean, childhood games killing over 400 fucking people?! I don't get it, and I don't get why my friend had to die because of some fake shit!” you cursed at him, looking him dead in the eye as your heart spoke for you.

“... do you wanna know what I went through? The games, the reasons why I'm looking? That might make you understand things better,” Jun-Ho said, looking toward the ground. He knew the pain you were going through, he saw it every day in that damn place. He was so tired of watching people feel this way.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever you think will make me feel better, but it probably won't. Don't get your damn hopes up,” you said, watching the waves crash against the ship once more.

“... I was looking for my brother. I heard Gi-Hun talking about some island with a business card, and the same card was in my brother's room. So ... I infiltrated the facility. I followed their cars and killed one of the guards so I could take his place. Everything that Gi-Hun saw in there was real, I watched it first hand. I went through hell in that place. I was fearing for my life daily while watching the players be bet on like horses. What hurt the most, though ... was when I found out who was running the games,” Jun-Ho admitted.

“Wait ... you know who was running the games, and you didn't tell anyone? Why?” you asked, eyes wide with both curiosity and fear.

“The Front Man, the man behind the games, was my brother. He shot me in the arm and I was found in the ocean. I just ... I want to find him and talk to him. Ask him why, sit with him and just understand why he's doing all of this ... I would rather die than never find out.” Jun-Ho felt a weight lift from his chest as he exhaled, waiting for your response.

The sound of waves crashing filled the silence for a few moments. You were thinking carefully, letting what he said truly sink in. You hated to admit it, but you understood. When you looked at his face, you understood the pain written all over it. He just wanted his brother back, and you couldn't blame him. What happened wasn't his fault, your friend just happened to be caught in the crossfire.

“I'm sorry,” you said softly. “I get it. I think we've both lost a part of ourselves searching for that island. I've lost a friend, you've practically lost a brother ... I want answers too.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring. “Let's go inside and get dried off, maybe talk through everything I know. It felt really good to get all of that off my chest, and ... it feels good to trust someone again.”

You stood carefully, extending a hand to help him as well. The ship's deck was incredibly slippery, so you held onto each other as you made your way back into the cabin. After drying off, you both sat near a wall, away from the others that were sleeping. You didn't want to disturb them, so you both spoke in hushed tones.

As he explained small details about what all happened, you listened intently, but you felt yourself nodding off. You had your blanket over your lap, pulling it slightly over your torso as you grew more cold. It was getting later and later, and the lack of sleep was getting to you. Eventually, you dozed off, your head slipping onto his shoulder.

As he realized what was going on, a red haze creeped gently across his cheeks. He let his head rest on top of yours, placing his hand on top of yours as well. You two had earned each other's trust throughout the night, and he wanted to keep you safe.

Despite everything, Jun-Ho seemed to have found a side mission.

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh no! Migraine's suck. I get them all the damn time, too 🙄 Hopefully, the migraine's better now ❤️‍🩹 (and this chapter didn't make it worse lol)

Literally me reading your comments on this part 😂 You were so spot on with most of them!!! Sherlock Holmes is getting some competition lol

And yeah, Diane's really playing a sick game here and tormenting Beau to no end 😖 But I had a fun time creating her character, though. I watch way too many crime shows and really wanted that "big bad." Definitely no redemption arc for Diane, though 😅

Good ol' Poppernak. He's a loyal one!

He surely is. Such a sweetheart 🥰 There was not enough Popcorn in this story 😭 (or Donno lmao)

Thank goodness for Beau and his random facts, and that she remembered it!!

I loved weaving that in as one of Beau's rambling trivia facts lol I thought that said so much about their relationship too!

Ah, she took a screwdriver… that gives me a little more hope (probably misguided, lol) when Turner appeared in front of her in the woods.

I honestly loved writing that tense push-and-pull between her and Turner. But I'm glad she won in the end and used that screwdriver wisely 😅

Is that because he thinks they're not going to find her in time or because he's beginning to realise that he is going to lose her to Beau after all.

The latter. That whole conversation with Beau made him realize she's not only happy with him, but he can also give her everything she wants 🤍

I really enjoyed that scene in the car between Beau and Randy. Felt like an honest conversation between them where they both learned a few truths about each other's relationships with her.

Yes 💯 Really felt like they needed to have a conversation about it, although I knew getting them fully back to best friends would've been a bit of reach, so I left it rather open-ended on that part. And Beau certainly knows he has to sacrifice his friendship with Randy for the reader. But even if she still chooses no one, I don't think they could've ever fully gone back to being buddies 😅

I have to say I was surprised to hear what had happened between her and Randy.

Yep, kept that a secret till the end on purpose 😉 It was supposed to show that some things always look perfect from the outside looking in. Beau kind of idolized their relationship and marriage and thought they were "the perfect couple." That revelation definitely gave him some perspective on his own relationship with her

I have so many questions. How did she do that???? She's locked up, isn't she? Did Diane have this all planned and set a timer to send the link? Did Hal set it up before he stumbled out in front of them? Or is something else going on?!

In my head it was an automated email that was sent when the bunker door closed 😂🤷‍♀️

But otherwise, no more surprises (kinda 😅)

Thank you so much for that wonderful reblog, hun!!! 😍🤍🤍🤍

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain – JANUARY 10

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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[engagedtobefree]

I haven’t done a life update in a while, even though there’s been many times over the course of these past several months where I’ve wanted to take to my keyboard and type away. I just haven’t had the time. Things have been a bit all over the place; sometimes in bad ways, sometimes in good ways, mostly in neutral. I have been weaving in and out of stress, hope, anxiety, peace, despondency, and vivacity like a constant thread stitching through life. It’s been a bit nerve-wracking, but I’m doing the best I can.

I’ve been having a lot of financial struggles as this year has progressed, and I’ve finally resigned myself to getting a work-from-home part-time job. I hope to update my resume this week and start sending it out. I’ve been using apps on my phone to make some side cash here and there, but with all the hours I put in and little payoff, my time is better suited elsewhere. I also want to work on some passive income stuff, but that will have to come after I have another job with steady income. I also have some things I’ve been meaning to sell for forever, and I should put those up since it’s the holiday season now. I don’t really ever buy myself anything, and I didn’t even want to purchase the few items I needed for my Halloween costume (luckily I already owned a few things), but I figured life is too short to just put everything towards bills. I also couldn’t afford the vacation I just went on. I can barely afford my groceries. I’ve been using Amazon gift cards from surveys to buy things I need on there. My only monthly allowances are my two book subscriptions and a yoga subscription, which only come out to about $54 a month. I’ve cut back so much on groceries that cutting back even more means either eating more unhealthily, skipping meals, or eating much smaller portions. I’ve resigned myself to start going to food pantries to get a few things. It won’t be a huge help, but if I can knock even $10 off my grocery list every week, that will be something. I was supposed to go to one today, but mistakenly thought they were open until 11:30 when they were only open until 11. I woke up around 9 and got out of bed around 9:25, so I had plenty of time, but I completely forgot about it until 10:30, so I will just go next week. I would be fine financially if I didn’t have my car payment, but I needed a new car last year and I went with the cheapest I could find that was brand new. I’m pretty sure one of my tires might need replacing because the light keeps coming on despite me filling them, which is frustrating. If I taught more yoga classes, that would help too, but I’m not ready to go back to that just yet since my own personal practice has suffered a lot this past year. 

I don’t even know where to start with everything else. I guess I’ll start with Scott. He’s come over to hang out a few times, which is fine. I like being friends. The only problem is, I can tell he still wants more. He always replies to my Snapchat stories (usually with compliments), reaches out maybe every other Friday or so asking if I’m free, then makes sure to compliment me some more once he’s in my presence. He hasn’t tried anything and he’s been respectful, but I think he has hope that he’s going to wear down my resolve and that something will happen between us. It won’t. I made it very clear last year about only wanting a friendship, and that hasn’t changed. Once I make up my mind, that’s it. That’s all there is. It takes me a very long time to make big decisions like the one I made with Scott, so by the time I make it, I am very sure of my answer. I left no room for guessing or doubt. There was one night though that I am kicking myself for. Back maybe 2 or 3 months ago, Scott came over with a 4 pack he thought I’d like. He did good with the drink, I will give him credit for that, but the alcohol percentage per can was almost 12%, which I don’t think he did on purpose. I had 2 cans of those along with another drink or 2, and long story short, I blacked out, which hasn’t happened in like 8 years. I don’t drink that much now that I’m older, so I can’t hold my alcohol well. I resurfaced only once, and I was holding Scott’s arm and chatting away. I am a very affectionate and bubbly drunk. Sober me is not much of a people person, but drunk me just adores everyone. Back in my early 20’s, I would kiss my friends, usually my female ones, all the time. It was always platonically. When I got a boyfriend during that time period, he was still okay with me kissing my girl friends, which was fine with me, as just having a boyfriend would have been enough. Even if I have just one person to give affection to, I’m good. And I am still completely loyal, no matter how far gone I get. That is something that is simply integral in who I am as a person. Obviously now that I’m 33 I’m not acting exactly how I was when I was in my early 20s, but I will still be chatty and affectionate, even if it’s just a light arm touch or something. I am so mad at myself for grabbing Scott’s arm like that though, because I don’t want to send mixed signals. I am not a mixed signals kind of person. I have no desire to lead someone on or to continue dealing with something I don’t want to deal with. I would hope that something like that wouldn’t spark any hope in him, but Scott has persisted despite me giving absolutely nothing else. Hell, he’s persisted despite me setting a very clear boundary for our relationship. I do not know how to handle this from here, because I already previously told him what I wanted. He hasn’t tried anything or asked for anything, so it makes me feel weird to just bring it up out of the blue without a catalyst. But because I don’t want to deal with it, I’m probably going to have to do that. I don’t know. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s frustrating, but I just don’t want to have to deal with it.

Anyway, apparently the night I blacked out, I decided to lay down on my sofa and go to sleep while Scott was still there. I woke up around 8 a.m. the next day, instantly panicked. I didn’t remember falling asleep or Scott leaving. A quick body scan told me nothing happened, and when I went downstairs, I could see Scott turned the bottom lock when he left. I don’t think Scott would do anything to me, but there’s just certain scenarios where I’ve woken up and I’m 21 again and there’s a man’s fingers going in and out of me. I don’t think about it very often, but a part of me still fears that happening again.

Scott hasn’t come over that often, only a few times since maybe the beginning of the summer. There were two nights when he came over where towards the end of him being there, I started to wish he was Chris. I know that sounds kind of weird, and I don’t have an explanation for that, but I felt a really strong desire to be in Chris’s presence and to be talking to him instead. I felt bad because that isn’t fair to Scott, but I don’t think that I would have felt that way had Scott not been hitting on me throughout the night. I don’t want anyone to hit on me except for Chris. Both times, immediately after Scott left, my brain went, “Let’s reach out to Chris!!!” and of course cuz I’m all buzzed I think it’s a great idea. Both times, I told him to have a wonderful weekend. He responded to both some time in the morning, just repeating what I said back to me but with the words changed to fit me instead. However, the second time, he prefaced it with “Ur so beautiful”. That took me by surprise, and I had to stop to process that before reading the rest of his message. He’s called me beautiful several times before, but I guess I wasn’t expecting it, especially since when I went back to look at the pic I sent him (thankfully, I saved it lol), I definitely looked a bit inebriated😑. For whatever reason, when he responds to a selfie of mine, I imagine being in his shoes, opening the picture, seeing what he sees. Even when it’s not selfies and even when it’s my Snap story and not anything I sent directly to him, I wonder what thoughts run through his mind, how he processes everything, what he’d have to say. I’ve never done any of that before, and I don’t know why I’m doing it now. I was a bit frustrated with myself both times for reaching out though. I had decided not to reach out to Chris until I figure out exactly what has been going on, but drunk me had to go and ruin that. It’s not really a big deal, but I thought creating some space would be helpful or beneficial in a way.

My next appointment with Chris is on November 18th, just over 1 week away. I’ve heard from him a few times recently. He reached out to wish me a happy birthday last month, and he responded to my Halloween pics by telling me I look awesome. For well over a month now, I’ve been feeling a certain shift in the air regarding Chris. I don’t know what it is yet; I only know that it’s happening. I also feel that Chris and I will be showing up to my appointment with very different intentions. I don’t know what his are, but I know that mine will be the intention of getting answers. I am not a confrontational or accusatory type of person, so it won’t be anything dramatic, but I do plan to ask questions. It will be more inquisitive than anything else. I have been going over in my mind for some time now how I want to phrase my questions, but I’m still unsure of what I plan to go with. At this point, I am thinking it depends on what sort of opening I have at my appointment, like the context of the conversation. Obviously, I won’t know what that is until I’m actually there. I am hoping to ask him about what’s going on, if he’s leading me on or not, what his intentions are. I also hope to get some answers about the girlfriend scenario, more specifically about when they broke up and if it was before or after he gave me his number and started flirting with me. The second question I anticipate to be a bit more difficult to get in. I said before that Chris doesn’t owe me anything, and he doesn’t, but if he’s been deceitful or at the very least purposely misleading at any point in time, then I do think I deserve honesty about that. He doesn’t have to give it to me, but that does not change the fact that I am deserving of it. I do not know what comes after this appointment. The only thing I can foresee is that this needs to be done, whether I like it or not. 

That brings me around to his girlfriend, or well, ex-girlfriend. I was, for many months, leaving the situation alone. I was hurt, yes, but I saw no immediate way for me to get any answers, so I carried on with my life and put my focus on other things. Of course, my mind still wandered around to Chris all the time, but then I’d reel my attention back in, telling myself there’s no reason to think about someone who is possibly not even single and that there’s also no reason to worry because I can’t change anything and I can’t get any answers yet. That has changed as my appointment has started to loom in the not-too-far-off-distance. So at the beginning of last month, I decided to check her Pinterest account since it’s the only regularly active social media account I could find on her, and to my surprise, she was posting quite often. None of it really gave me any clues though. A majority of it has been crafting and sewing stuff. There was a little craft piano thing she had pinned, but after mulling it over a bit, I decided that wasn’t enough to go off of. For maybe two weeks straight, I was checking a few times a week. About three weeks ago, I started to teeter back, reeling my anxiety back in, resigning myself to simply waiting until my appointment to get any sort of answer. About another week or so passed before I decided to check one last time. My stomach dropped when I saw a day prior, she posted to her “Love” board. That feeling immediately subsided as I clicked because something in me just knew it wasn’t going to be what it seemed. She pinned a quote about grieving the end of a relationship, about always remembering them and remembering what they gave you, but then moving forward by giving yourself love. This was all the confirmation I needed, the confirmation I was looking for, the one that was to turn the tides in a more favorable direction. I paused, processed what I had just read, then waited for the relief to wash over me. It never came.

Instead, what formed was a large knot in my chest. I felt so sorry for her. Immediately, I began to think of my 23 year old self, heartbroken because she believed she just lost the love of her life, that she’d think of him forever, that she was permanently ruined, that she’d mourn his loss until her dying day, that there was nothing and no one better than him and what they had. We were looking at apartments and planning to move in together. I thought we were going to get married one day. The break-up gutted me. I stopped counting how many nights in a row I cried myself to sleep after 2 months passed without a single night of reprieve. I didn’t even really feel remotely better whatsoever until after 6 months had passed since the break-up. When he saw me doing good, he came back around saying he missed me and wanted to try again. I saw him twice before he did a complete 180 and dropped me again. It put me right back where I started. I didn’t get over that relationship ending until about a year and half to two years later, and it took me about three for me to really see the truth of what that relationship was. I realized that he did us both a favor by ending it, that while I cared about him deeply it wasn’t truly love, that he wasn’t a person I really wanted a future with and it wouldn’t have worked between us, and that the right person wouldn’t leave me during a period of my life when I needed them the most. I felt so sorry for her because I know what it feels like and what she’s going through, and even if it isn’t exactly the same scenario and even if she doesn’t come out of it in the same way I did, I do understand in some capacity and I know how much it hurts. I also know it gets better. I went through a similar heartbreak with Scott, even though we were never in a relationship, and coming out the other end of that was also a really good thing. I am so glad things ended. That doesn’t change how difficult those times were though. It sucks when you’re going through it and you don’t see any light at the end of the deep, dark tunnel someone else has forced you down. I couldn’t feel relief at seeing that photo because there was no room for anything else except empathy. I thought it was what I wanted to see, but turns out it wasn’t.

It took me about two days after seeing that picture to realize that Chris was most likely the one who ended the relationship. That made me wonder if maybe I haven’t actually been a second choice. I’ve never faulted Chris for being in a relationship because that would be stupid and unfair, and my mind never even traveled in that direction anyway; my issue has always been if he initiated things with me before he was single and if he was still in a relationship now. Out of the many devastations that came from that knowledge, one has been that I was a second choice, a back-up plan, a safety net to fall back on when the first, preferable option didn’t work out. But what if none of that were true? I mean, obviously, I entered the scene later. What if the original choice couldn’t easily be undone and it needed time to be let go of? It never even occurred to me that Chris would think his original choice wasn’t the right choice. I have only been viewing myself as a possible outlier here, something to be eyed but never bought, a thing to be messed with and not a person to be considerate of. Another thing that crossed my mind is: what if Chris made the right choice in starting this off too early? I started thinking about which was the preferable option: Chris giving me his number while he was still taken or Chris letting me walk out that day without flirting or giving me his number. My reflexive response was to say the latter, but then I stopped to really think about it. What if it had gotten to the point of me asking for his number and he rejected me? Would I have left there mortified? Would I have started going to a different dental office after that? Or what if neither one of us attempted anything? Would I have resolved to go for it the next time or have decided he simply wasn’t interested? Of course, there is that 3rd option, where he could have ended his relationship before my appointment even rolled around. I also started to think about what has been going on on Chris’s end. What drew him to me? How did he know I was interested in the first place? Has anything I’ve experienced happened on his end too? Previously, I immediately assumed there’s no way, that all those weird things I can’t explain were only happening on my end. But what if they weren’t? What if I haven’t actually been alone in this? What if this has all been reciprocal? My thoughts are suddenly shifting in all of these new directions, and I can feel this sort of opening in my chest that wasn’t there before. I guess I never really thought about any of this previously. There had to be something that stood out to Chris beyond him simply thinking I’m pretty. These are all questions for a future day though, assuming all goes well at my next appointment.

I’m not sure when, but for at least over a month now, I’ve been mulling over my past appointments: things that happened, conversations we had, stuff I felt, Chris himself. The result of that has been creating a positive shift within me. It’s like there’s always this tug of war within me between fear and trust, and now the trust side is winning. I do still have things I need to work through and fears about relationships, but for the most part, I have shifted out of that anxiety and into the mindset of staying present with only what is here now. I still have my moments, and I plan to write about all of that soon hopefully, probably on my side blog, which I’ve been neglecting the past several months. There’s a few topics I want to write about on there because they’re so deeply personal and vulnerable, so I’d rather they not be public for anyone to comment on. Not that my long, rambling personal posts are creating any discourse up on the interwebs, but I’d like to completely erase the possibility of that happening, cuz ya know, people 🙄. Anyway, back to the trust thing. The shift started happening many weeks ago, but I do think seeing the picture his ex posted bumped that process up a bit more too. It didn’t have an immediate effect, but I can definitely feel it helped shift me along a bit further than I was. I still want to ask Chris those questions because I want to hear things from him. That’s only fair. Plus, I don’t think I can put any of that stuff behind me until I do confirm things from him and get some more clarity. I think possibly that I simply wasn’t ready before, but now I am. I am tired of always avoiding truths and my intuition just because of stupid messages from other people and society. People are always so caught up in their own ego, needing other people to believe what they believe, live how they live, decide how they decide, think how they think. I’ve gotten to a place where I’m so sick and tired of it and don’t care anymore. I don’t want to live like those people who are only ever in their heads, who don’t believe in the spiritual side of life, who have limited beliefs and mindsets about what is real and possible. I don’t care if anything I say comes off as crazy, delusional, or impossible. I really, truly, do not care anymore. They can stay mad about it. No one has to believe me or believe in me, because I already do. If they’re that upset about my truths, beliefs, or decisions that literally have nothing to do with them, then they’re not focusing enough on themselves and their own life. I don’t want to be like those people and I’m under no obligation to please them, and I’m tired of trying to. 

I am ready for change and I am going to pursue it. I’ve been starting to jump back into astrology, and am just learning about how Pluto leaving Capricorn is ending a difficult 15 years for all of those with their sun or ascendant in cardinal signs (both apply to me). There’s been a lot of hard lessons and upheavals, which have demanded resilience and transformation, but now it’s time to enter a new chapter of expansion, innovation, and liberation. I can feel all of that. My ADHD meds are working great, so I think that’s also helping. I have so much to tackle still, but I’ve slowly been chipping away at getting my apartment clean and organized, meditating daily (sometimes several times a day), getting back into exercising and yoga and moving more, making more time for hobbies, and slowly improving my sleep (the Digital Detox app has been helping me stay off my phone at night). My meds aren’t foolproof, so I still have days that are more difficult than others, but overall, I’d say I’m in a pretty decent place. I’m also stepping out of perfectionism a bit more, shifting my mindset into following the belief that it’s better to do something imperfectly than not at all. I’m very excited to continue down this road I’m on.

I’ve been shifting my thoughts in other ways too lately. Recently, I’ve been starting to change the way I view my physical appearance. It’s more so at the beginning stages, but it’s something at least. I know I’m not conventionally attractive. While when I was younger, there was a period of time where I thought I was ugly, I no longer think that. I know I’m pretty, but I know I’m pretty in an average sort of way. There’s been a handful of times throughout my life where people had something mean to say about my appearance, but those have been greatly outnumbered by the really nice things people have said to me in regards to how I look. At times, especially when I was much younger, I considered all the different surgeries I might get: breast implants, nose job, lip lift. As time went on, I decided against them, and while I still struggle sometimes with accepting myself, I no longer want to pursue going under the knife. I might be open to it once I’m an old lady, but by then I might not even care at all lol. I don’t get hit on that often, though I also don’t really go anywhere to get hit on, and if I do notice someone interested in me, I act like I don’t notice. When I was at my friend’s Halloween party, a younger guy came up to me and started flirting with me while I was standing off to the side by myself (I was mingling too, just had some moments where I wasn’t lol). He jokingly told me he knew I was standing there with my axe to look threatening to keep all the fellas away. I thought, “Hell yeah, this dude gets it”. I wasn’t purposely doing that, but I enjoyed the idea that I could look threatening, even though I know I don’t look that way at all lol. We shared a few laughs and after I didn’t reciprocate any of his flirting, he wandered off. It made me realize I probably would get hit on more often if I went out more, but I don’t want to get hit on so I will not start going out more often any time soon lol.

Recently, Youtube randomly recommended a video to me about the downside of veneers. I never really knew what exactly veneers were since I never cared to look into it. I was horrified to learn that this is a common thing people are doing, where they’re getting their perfectly healthy, normal teeth filed down to put fake, porcelain teeth over top. People thinking their teeth were so unattractive that they needed to get rid of them altogether blew my mind. As someone who always gets told they have “perfect” teeth, I myself am not attracted to the same. I mean, not that I want someone with a bad mouth, but some crooked teeth will get me looking, in a good way. I do tend to sometimes look at people’s mouths when they’re talking, because I just think teeth are cute. I like seeing all the different teeth out there. I do this with everyone, so it’s not me doing it because I find them attractive or am checking them out in some capacity; I simply like the way teeth look. I’m happy my mom got me braces and I don’t mind how my teeth look, but even if she hadn’t done that for me, I can't picture myself ever doing something like getting veneers. Another thing I found out is that people get their irises dyed or get fake lens implants to change their eye color. I thought that was even more insane than the veneer thing. Looking through images, I saw a lot of people getting it done were people of color, and they were usually opting for light blue or green eyes. The green, if not too light, looked okay sometimes, but the blue looked really weird. The rest of their features are darker, so the blue didn’t look right at all. On any of them. My mind immediately went to, “What is wrong with brown eyes??? Or hazel????” I have always been complimented on my eyes and tbh, I do think they’re my best feature. In the light, they are incredibly blue. I’ll never forget when I was working at Wendys as a teen, an older gentleman walked up to order and when he looked at me he said, “You have the bluest damn eyes I’ve ever seen”. The eye color I think is the nicest though? Brown. Yet, there are people getting rid of their brown eyes, giving themselves all sorts of issues like glaucoma just so they can feel more attractive. Any eye color can be attractive to someone. There’s no one-size-fits-all.

Finally the last thing - that I saw most recently - was regarding lips. I’ve always liked my bottom lip, but have always been incredibly more scrutinizing of my top one. I have a pretty pronounced cupid’s bow, so the top points of my lip are more pointed, like mountain peaks. I’ve never liked it. I don’t like how they look when I talk, especially. I’ve never been a huge fan of wearing red lipstick because more than any other color, even darker shades like black, I feel like it becomes more pronounced. I think my lip shape looks fine on other people, like Taylor Swift for example, but I’ve never liked it on me. I’ve always wished for softer, more rounded lips, like the ones all the makeup trends are trying (and failing, imo) to recreate, and the ones that get touted as beautiful in the media (see Julia Roberts and Angelina Jolie - in regards to shape, not size). So then I’m on Reddit, scrolling through some random sub (I don’t even remember what it was, I somehow got from the Wicked movie to Ariana Grande posts, so I think it was some sort of celebrity sub, which is super random cuz I don’t usually care about celebrities), and imagine my surprise when I see a comment with someone saying how they find strong cupids bows attractive. I was even more surprised by all the upvotes and people commenting back in agreement. It has never occurred to me in my entire life that someone would find my lip shape attractive. Never. Then I go to Google, and apparently my lip shape is found attractive by so many people, viewed as “classic” and “romantic”. There’s even a surgery people get to make their cupid's bow more pronounced, and it’s pretty popular. I was completely dumbstruck. A feature I have disliked my entire life people are going to plastic surgeons to recreate. All these features I have that people are paying money to get, ruining their bodies and changing themselves when there’s literally nothing wrong with them. It blows my mind. I had to wear lipstick for my Lisa Frankenstein costume, and it was the first time I put red lipstick on and actually felt excited about it. That was probably also partially due to my excitement about dressing up as Lisa, but I know part of it was because of this too.

It’s also very strange to me how people judge others, like using that on-a-scale-from-one-to-ten thing. Ever since I was a teen, I can remember not liking how people do that, mostly because I heard men utilizing it more than women, but also for other reasons too. First off, when is anyone ever a “10”? I feel like it just sets people up for failure. Also, judging people based solely on appearances is such a shitty thing to do and is so incredibly harmful. Truly. On the same day as I was on that other Reddit post, I ended up in that one group where women rate famous women’s appearances (I forget the name of the group, but there’s also a men’s equivalent where they also rate famous women - it also might be where I saw the Ariana pic), and someone rated Princess Diana a 10 based on more than just her looks, and a few people kept coming at them for it. I don’t get it. Apparently - and I’ve heard this many times - when people are rating themselves, they tend to rate themselves higher than how others perceive them. On my best days, I’d say I’m like a 6 at most, so not really sure where that places me in the reality of things. I just think it’s overall such a terrible thing we do to each other, to judge and point out what flaws aren’t making us look our “best”. Like, what are other people supposed to do about it?? They can’t help what features they were born with. This is why people turn to plastic surgery so often now. Humanity can be so very disappointing.

Anyway, moving on. Another exciting thing that I found out in September is that I qualify for Italian dual citizenship as a person of Italian descent! It’s called jure sanguinis (sometimes also spelled as jus, or even iure, probably because there’s no j in Italian - though the word comes from Latin). There’s a ton of criteria that has to be met and Italy just made a major new ruling that unfortunately disqualifies a ton of people. I know I qualify through my great-grandmother (GGM), but I am waiting to find out if I qualify through my great-grandfather (GGF). It’s easier and less expensive to go through a male ancestor than a female one, unfortunately. This is because prior to 1948, Italy only recognized Italian descent as being passed down through males, so the Italian courts can still reject applications based on the fact that a female ancestor gave birth to your next-of-kin if it was prior to that date. I mean, is a law really abolished if you’re still upholding it in some way, shape, or form? I’d think not, but what do I know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I’d also need to hire an Italian lawyer to handle my case if I went through my GGM, which is why it’s more expensive. So even after acquiring the extra paperwork, taking the extra steps needed, hiring a lawyer, and paying extra money, you can still be rejected. Gotta love sexism. This is going to be a long, grueling road ahead either way. I’m most likely going to need to get documents amended since they were just putting any old thing on documents back in the day, and this is regardless of whoever I go through. 

Prior to August of 1992, Italy did not allow dual citizenship, so if Italians wanted to become US citizens, they had to give up their Italian citizenship. Italy allows descendants of those Italian immigrants to reclaim their citizenship, but there’s a lot of criteria to meet. So the main criteria is that your Italian-born ancestor didn’t naturalize (become a US citizen) before your next-of-kin was born, or that they didn’t naturalize at all. If your Italian-born ancestor came over as a minor (under 21 according to Italy prior to March 1975) and their parent naturalized, that naturalization automatically passed down to your Italian-born ancestor. This is what’s known as “the minor issue”. It can be a means for being rejected, but not necessarily. However, the new addition Italy just made on the minor issue is that if your next-of-kin was a minor when your Italian-born ancestor naturalized, it is automatically a disqualification. For example, my GGM came over here as a minor with her father (my GGGF). If he naturalized while she was still a minor, then she automatically naturalized too. However, my application for citizenship can still be accepted despite this because the Italian government usually views it as involuntary naturalization and is therefore not disqualifying. My grandfather (GF) is my next-of-kin, so if both of my great-grandparents (GGP) naturalized while he was a minor, then I would automatically be disqualified to gain citizenship through jure sanguinis. However, if only one naturalized while he was a minor, I can still go through my other GGP. So if your Italian-born ancestry had to involuntarily naturalize as a minor, you might still be good, but if your Italian-born ancestor voluntarily naturalized while your next-of-kin was a minor, you’re not good. Idk why they made that addition to the minor issue, but it’s fucked a lot of people over. It was really sad to see people posting about how they spent so much money and put in so much work over the course of many long years just for them to now be disqualified. I feel so sorry for them. 

My Italian ancestry is on my dad’s side, so my line of descent is: my great-grandparents  -> my grandfather -> my father -> me. (I know I have some Italian through my grandmother on my dad’s side as well based off of my DNA tests, but it would be through her father and  we don’t know who he was, so I can’t go that route.) I do not know yet if my GGF naturalized or not. I submitted a request to the US records branch to do a record search and also reached out to local branches in the places he lived. The US branch hasn’t responded back yet, and it usually takes on average about 3 months to a year to get a response from them. I submitted my request at the end of September. The Philadelphia branch had no record of him naturalizing there, but I have to check with them again in December. The local branch in NYC just closed and all of their records are being sent to the Philly branch, but they aren’t expected to be ready until some time in December. Sometimes it’s possible to find naturalization records online for free, but I couldn’t find any for my GGF. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist though, cuz not every single record has been uploaded. I did find my GGM’s naturalization card online, showing that my GGM naturalized in 1944. My GF was born in 1915, so he was an adult when she naturalized, meaning that I can qualify through her, though it’s not a definite approval because of the 1948 thing. Another issue I have is that my GGM went back to NYC to naturalize and used her old address from 20-something years prior. I’m guessing she didn’t know she could have gone through Philly, like maybe she thought she had to do it through NYC since that’s where she first immigrated to. That’s why I’m also thinking my GGF probably did the same thing, hence why there was no record of him naturalizing in Philly. I don’t blame them for that because there was most definitely a language barrier and also our government is not the best with making things very clear even for their native English-speaking citizens, but I do foresee that as being a pain in the ass to work around. Also, if my GGF never naturalized, I would have to get his death certificate amended because it says on there he was a US citizen. There’s a ton of other info I could write about this, a bunch of other hurdles to navigate, and a few more potential disqualifiers (they don’t apply to me), but it would take me the rest of the day to write about all of it, so I’ll end that bit there.

One thing I saw a few times in a group I’m in is people feeling bad about going through this process, like they’re destroying what their ancestors worked hard for. I was completely baffled and shocked to see that sentiment, and when I read the responses, I wasn’t the only one. Firstly, our ancestors didn’t have a choice. They had to choose one or the other: either they became a citizen of the country they moved to or they stayed a citizen of their birth country. It was one or the other. Secondly, how do we know they wouldn’t have kept both if they had the option? Seeing as it took my GGM almost 40 years after she came here to naturalize, I think it’s safe to speculate that it wasn’t the easiest decision to make. In modern times, we now have the privilege of having both citizenships. It’s really confusing to me to see how people think sometimes. Like, the place where my mind went was how cool it is that decisions my GGP made for themselves over a century ago to chart their own path forward is also affecting my own path in the present. That is so fucking cool to think about. My GGP both came over in 1905, and the requirement back then was that they had to live here for 5 years before they qualified for naturalization. Them deciding to wait much longer has the potential to greatly benefit me in the present. This would literally be life-changing. It has been a lifelong dream of mine to live in Europe, but I never wanted to just give up and leave my life here to do so. This is a wonderful alternative route. Being of Italian descent (doesn’t matter if you qualify for jure sanguinis or not), if I did move there, the wait time to become an Italian citizen is a lot less than those who are not of Italian descent: only 3 years vs 10. If I went through jure sanguinis and moved there, I could improve upon the 3 year wait time too, since the application process would be much quicker. I believe it would only take around 3 months to get approved compared to the insane wait times for US residents, though it could still be delayed over there too for whatever reason. It is generally much quicker though. For US residents, I’ve seen people say they waited anywhere from like 1-4 years for approval after submitting their docs, depending on the Italian-American consulate they had to apply to. The Philly branch, which is the one I’d apply through, from what I’ve read, is one of the faster ones. The lengthy wait times are fucking a lot of people over right now with the new ruling for the minor issue. People who submitted their applications years ago and were waiting on approval are now being denied based on the new ruling, which is really messed up. I think it should only apply to people who submitted after the new ruling took effect.

It’s already been worthwhile to simply trace my GGP history. They both came over here two months apart and were from the same region, but they never met until they were in NYC. One day, I decided to see where exactly their towns were located. They were both from the Foggia region, and when I looked up their towns, I noticed they seemed very close to one another. Turns out, they were only a 2 hour walk away from one another, which today is about an 11-12 minute car ride. How crazy is that??? I also found their names on the Ellis Island website. My GGF came over here alone at the age of 20 to stay with a cousin, and my GGM came over here with her father when she was 14 (still have to confirm my GGGF didn’t naturalize while she was still a minor, though I’m guessing she didn’t since I found her naturalization card). I also found a picture of them that someone uploaded on Ancestry. I can tell who my GGF is in the photo, but he’s standing next to two women, so I’m unsure who is my GGM. Oh, and also, their names are Leonardo and Angelina 🙂

My original plan for doing this was to some day, maybe 10 years or so into the future, have a second home. Obviously, I am incapable of affording that now, but this will take many years to complete, so it’s not something I need to figure out right away. I could live, work, and study anywhere in the EU, which is made up of 27 out of the 44 European countries, but if I lived in Italy I’d get many perks, including housing benefits, free healthcare, and tax breaks. There’s a ridiculous amount of benefits just from being a citizen of the EU, plus holding dual-citizenship with the US along with it as well. There’s virtually no downsides. My only thing now is that I wish I had known about this sooner so that I could pursue it sooner. America is not a great country. I know it is a “privilege” to live here, but that privilege only equates to convenience. With all of the businesses here and shipping hubs and attractions and close proximity to cities or places with a lot to offer and whatever else along those lines, we have nothing else aside from convenience. And yet, we have somehow made ourselves the center of the world, forcing our self-importance on everyone else, even though we remain way behind so many other first-world countries in areas like education, work, housing, human rights, benefits, healthcare, the economy. All of that is now about to get even worse with Mr. Fascist about to take office. People who already have their dual-citizenship can choose to go and leave this hellhole for the next 4+ years, and I envy them. I do find it a bit ironic that in order to leave my fascist-leaning government behind, I’d like to go live in the country where fascism originated. It’s almost humorous. Then at the same time I’m like, would it be cowardly to run, to leave everyone else who can’t escape to fend for themselves? Maybe, at least for the time being, I’m meant to stay here. If all goes well and smoothly, on the short end of things, I can be approved for my Italian citizenship within 2 years.

Ever since I was a kid, I have never liked it here. That was before I even knew and understood issues we have here and statistics about where we stand compared to other, more progressive countries. Something inside of me has always rejected the country I was born into. My mom used to get mad cuz she would always say it’s a “privilege” to live here, and as a teen, when I gained more knowledge, I had comebacks for telling her how it wasn’t. When I signed up to vote at 18, I registered as unaffiliated because I never wanted to be restricted with my vote. While I’ve never voted Republican and most likely never will, I at least am not limited to only voting Democrat. I did not vote for Biden because just as I am with Trump, I could not stomach him, but I would have brought myself to vote for him if I wasn’t confident he was going to win. I live in a blue state, so not that it matters much anyway. I had to vote for Kamala despite knowing she too was not the best (though I think she would’ve done even better than Biden), and I am so sick of it now seemingly always coming down to Bad Candidate and Worse Candidate. While Kamala didn’t have much of a plan, she could at least be influenced to do good, just like how it was with Biden. She could have at least been worked with. Trump can and will actively do more harm. It’s highly possible that this term is going to be even worse than his first. And at least the past 4 years with Biden there wasn’t any fucking nuclear bomb threats from North Korea or having to brace myself as I get another ping on my phone in regards to whatever asinine thing Trump said or did the day before or overnight while half of America was sleeping. And every time I have to hear about that man saying whatever is a witch hunt against him, my blood boils. It’s estimated that between 70-90% of victims of witchcraft were (and still are) women, and many of them were either poor, healers of some kind, unmarried or didn’t have children, rejected religious norms, or in some way were non-conforming to societal standards. Women were also more likely to be accused because they were viewed as “weaker” in different ways. This rich, privileged man making accusations of witch hunts against him is so aggravating, especially because he always does it whenever he’s being called out for something he literally said or did. And when Putin and Netanyahu, two politicians currently bombing the shit out of innocent civilians, are celebrating the election of someone, how does that not raise any red flags in some people??? I truly do not get it. “B-b-but the economy!” The economy started going under while Trump was still President, it just continued to worsen under Biden. Yes, someone needs to do something about it, but it’s wishful thinking Trump will get it done. Trump doesn’t care about the people; he cares about himself. He doesn’t even give a shit about his own family. This is a man who while on national tv said he’d date his own daughter if she wasn’t his daughter, all while she was sitting right next to him. He even implied he’d have sex with her. Link 1 and link 2 to clips of those. He has zero morals. While I want to believe he has the capacity for good, odds are he will do more harm than anything positive. The only good thing I can think of from his first presidency is when he got rid of the penalty for people who didn’t have health insurance. When I try to come up with something else, my mind literally draws a blank. I have never liked Trump. I remember being around 9 or 10 and my mom started watching the Apprentice, and I was shocked by how incredibly mean he was. I remember specifically asking my mom why he was so mean. I cannot recall her response, but that memory has stuck out to me because I was horrified by how anyone could be so cruel to other people. The speech Jimmy Kimmel gave about Trump winning was great. He says things more eloquently than I can.

Anyway, I had a few more things I was going to write about, but I think I’m going to put them on the back burner for now. This is already a really long post, and I anticipate another one coming up after my appointment with Chris.

[just-null]

Wowie rly digging the yandere clone headcanons… how would each react if their darling tried to run away from them?!

You said tried so I assume this was a failed attempt!

Short answer: they get really upset and try making it your fault (shocker.) Ain't no way any of these mfs think they're the problem. Good news! you're mostly unharmed and alive.

This will just be purely writing bc i mostly had thoughts! sorry no drawing this time!!

[cw! mentions of potential harm to reader (no actual harm done), manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics (yandere flavor), obsessive behavior]

Sekido

You're always being hunted the moment the sun comes down and you don't return home in time. Reasons like that are exactly why he hates it when you part from him. 

This time is different.. he can't find you in your usual spots. There's no fucking way, right?

How could you.. No, how DARE you? Do you think that he's some joke? That his feelings for you are something that you can run away from like it's nothing? 

The second he's sure the sun won't harm him, he's already white knuckling his khakkhara, swinging at anything and everything in his path until he gets to you.

They know how to sense if you're near or not, hell, they probably know how your specific blood type smells like. 

Did you think cuddling up to you and memorizing every detail about you was for nothing? Don't be stupid. All he needs is a trace of you and he's gone in the blink of an eye.

You better enjoy running while you can because when he catches you, and he will, those legs of yours won't have much use after he's done with them. 

Sekido doesn't WANT to do this, but you honestly give him no choice. After he trusted you enough to stop looking over his shoulder, you do this? How can he ever put any faith in you again!?

On the bright(?) side, Sekido's rage wouldn't be solely on you, it'll ricochet onto everyone, especially the other clones and himself. 

They were supposed to be looking after you! But they can't do anything right, even a task as simple as this. 

And why did he think it was a good idea to trust them with something of big importance when all they do is fuck everything up!? Everyone's idiocy is rubbing off on him!

The entire time on his search for you, he's cursing and wanting to crush anything he can get his hands on, especially your bones. 

He doesn't even bother with speaking to the others, too busy spewing out all sorts of hurtful and frustrated comments about everything. 

The brutal thought that you’d rather run away than be with him isn't one he wants to entertain, but it's echoing in his head.

At least, once the other clones get there, Karaku and Aizetsu brawl with Sekido so you're unharmed while Urogi carries you overhead. 

Sekido's jealousy flares up when he sees you in Urogi's arms, making him even more pissed if that's even possible. Great, now he looks like the bad guy and the other three, the saviors. Fucking perfect.

There's a lot of yelling and a lot of blood, especially with Urogi making things so much more annoyingly difficult in the air. Karaku and Aizetsu aren't helping. Why is Sekido suddenly the problem?! You ran away!! 

But when he calms down enough, he's cursing at everyone through clenched teeth. Sometimes trying to convince the others that you don't even need your legs anyway!!

Once you get back home (or temporary prison until you somehow regain favor), Sekido will eye your legs while gripping his staff from time to time. 

Exactly why he's forbidden to be in a room alone with you for a while until he settles down..

He glares at you more often and grows colder than before. Arguments are more common where he twists your words just to have you talk with him and be angry within reason. 

Any other type of conversation makes him so irrationally upset that the others need to step in so that he doesn't lose his temper again.

Karaku

The calmest out of the group. He brushes it off as “you're playing hard to get” again, and if he makes a ruckus, you'll scamper back and beg him to stop like always!

Then it gets darker out.. and when Sekido left, he seemed pretty pissed. Like more than usual..... shit.

Karaku sprints after Sekido when it clicks that he's found you. His mind starts reeling, unsure whether he should laugh at the absurdity of your decisions or get pissed off because you didn't even bother to give a hint! 

Not like that would do anything aside from give you away but regardless!

Everyone needs to relax, this is obviously something they can sweep under the rug. This isn't that big of a deal and you're just having a fit, but things like these can get you hurt, y'know? 

They're fun and all, sure, just maybe give him a heads up next time, yeah? Sekido can't take a joke, you know this!!! Still.. There's a way Karaku can work with this.

He'll be able to swoop in, save you, be your hero, and remind you why staying with him is kinda important. Just in case you forgot~ 

You don't wanna be out and about without his charming grin and protective hold would you? Don't answer that right now, he has a feeling you'll say something wrong!

Yet.. what if you need a firmer hand to remind you of what Karaku provides? What if you got a little too comfortable being protected so you thought you'd be alright leaving them? Man, who knew you could be spoiled!

Because of this, he would purposely fumble, letting Sekido get near you just so he can stop him at the perfect moment. He purposely gets hit too and makes sure some blood gets near you. To remind you how that could've been yours.

When Sekido calms down, Karaku laughs in your face and would pinch your cheeks if you weren't up in the air with Urogi on the way home.

You should've seen your face! It was really cute~! Maybe getting scared is your thing? He'll note that for later.

He offhandedly advises you not to do things like that all the time, fighting Sekido always kinda sucks, but it's not like you actually had a chance of successfully running away so he won't chastise you too much for it. 

That's not his job, and his heart hasn’t pumped that fast in a long time.. not even in a fight! You're so amazing~~

And delusional if you think he's not going to milk this “heroism” thing back there for some extra affection points with you. 

Don't be so mean. he got his head blown off twice and jaw dislocated thrice, not to mention everywhere else on his body. Don't you think those parts of him need some extra loving? more than usual?

There's not that much Karaku can say after that aside from reminiscing like it was a funny story. He's not upset about it, mostly a little miffed you got kinda far without him noticing, but he gets over it. 

The usual routine starts back up for him when you're back home. It's like nothing happened, but he keeps a closer eye on you since everyone's so tense.

Urogi

If you're not home before the sun sets, Urogi's clawing at the walls with stress. He usually accompanies Sekido to go find you, but this time is different. Urogi could just barely tell you were around.. When Sekido bolts, Urogi's flying as fast as he can, trying to find you first. 

You're so far.. you must've gotten kidnapped!!!!!

The stress from before burns into anger, expecting to see someone having their hands on you while you're calling out in vain. How could he let this happen?! Damn sun! 

He darts through the skies even faster imagining it, and when he finally reaches you, you look.. fine? and alone. and looking at him like he's the danger. He's here to save you, dummy..

Urogi falls to his knees, burying his face against your stomach and finally wrapping his arms around you again. Your fists violently hit his head and yank fistfuls of hair back, but it doesn't phase him. 

Your comforting warmth is back, that's all that matters. And god, your smell.. it's almost making him dizzy. He missed you so much.

There's many holes to the story in Urogi's head as to why you're so far from home, but he fills them in with more convoluted delusions. It's just a peaceful reunion right now.. 

That is until Sekido finally arrives and starts swinging his khakkhara way too close to your fragile bones. 

Now he's back in defense mode where he scoops you up and tries flying out of reach. This is so stressful!!! There's lightning everywhere and he keeps having to dodge the multiple staffs thrown his way. 

He shields you with his wings as best he can while trying to stay in the air, so you don't get hurt during Sekido's outburst.

In the skies, it's much clearer to see the hurt behind the haunting glow of Urogi's eyes. Did you care about how he might feel? Did you miss him at all? Did you not feel loved enough? Did someone say something to you? 

As he maneuvers the sky, he holds you as tightly as possible, lightly digging his talons into your skin.

Being without you for a couple hours is agonizing enough on its own. If you HAD left him, abandoned, cold, alone.. he doesn't want to think about it. All that matters is that your kidnappers or liars or whatever influenced you are gone, and you're back safe with them!!! 

You.. you still like him, right? Of course you do, fate wouldn't force your paths together if it wasn't for a reason!

Coming back home is uncomfortably tense, especially with how violently Aizetsu kicked Urogi across the room, nearly through the wall, when he tried to lick your wounds clean. It really hurt! 

When you're patched up, Urogi is ten times as clingy if that's possible. He has his arms looped around you constantly so you can't stray too far, and if his hands are busy, he always has his wings!

As happy as he is that you're back, he can't help but cry into your chest sometimes. Everything is so tense nowadays, he hates it! How could you go and do something like that? Apologize immediately! Or at least hold him too? Doubt creeps in a lot, and your attitude isn't helping.. 

His mood swings are stronger. From sobbing uncontrollably into your clothes to being all smiles and radiating with joy the next just because you said something vaguely decent.

Aizetsu

The demotivation started to creep in the second you left. During the day, Aizetsu sits by the door, wanting to be the first one you properly greet. Sekido and Urogi usually bring you back and he'll be the one in your good graces without lifting a finger. That sounds nice.. 

But as the footsteps fade and the silence lingers, Aizetsu feels miserable the longer he waits... Hold on, silence?

Before he realizes what's happening, he's already dashing to where the familiar commotion is coming from. Dread sets in as his legs take him as fast as they can whilst being the slowest of the four. This doesn't feel like they're rushing over to you after a long day, it feels.. dangerous?

What did you get yourself into..? Why do you insist on going to places Aizetsu can't follow? Are you safe? He hates not knowing.

Usually you're the one who's fine. You deal with four demons almost daily! Please please please be okay. He can't fathom it if you were hurt. 

When he gets there, the puzzle pieces fall into place and Aizetsu gets even more depressed, but at least you're not hurt. Well, not if he interferes. His movements are sluggish, a perpetual frown plastered on his face as he tries holding Sekido down. 

Aizetsu wants to dissolve into the floor, and he does sometimes. Not wanting to fight Sekido off anymore, he slumps over. 

This could've been a regular day where you came home.. Are you serious? Leaving? How pitiful could you be to actually think you could get away? Or was it that you wanted to play some sick joke on them? Well, it's not very funny... It's terrible actually.

Aizetsu stays silent on the way home, walking with a bit more energy knowing you're near despite his heart ache.

You can feel the harrowing disappointment radiating off of him the moment you all go back home.

He's tired, annoyed, and so unbelievably upset. Aizetsu grimaced when Urogi got near your scratches with his tongue, so he “politely” ushered him away. 

Knowing a human's weak points is good in battle, but he started trying to learn how to heal them, specifically because he knew these types of things might happen.

As he cleans your scratches, he's actively scolding you for leaving in a cold emotionless tone. And by scolding, he's using manipulative language, trying to make you guilty for everything you did. 

He barely has the energy to live, but now that he finally found his light in the darkness, you want to leave? Is it so wrong he wants to hold onto what makes him even a smidgen happier than usual? He reminds you that he'll wither away without you, but he's not really too keen on dying just yet.

When he tries to get back into a routine, he just can't. He knows why you left, but he doesn't want to hear it. Even if you're sweet to him or not, he'll hold you from behind when you rest.

Looking at you is too much, but being away from you is even worse. Aizetsu compromises this way, but gets quieter, occasionally sniffling when he hides his face behind you.

There's too much going on and he's so tired.. If it weren't for the others, he probably would've held you so tight for so long so that you both would perish together.

Maybe that’s why he's only allowed to hold you when you're asleep. Just please don't do that again.. He NEEDS you. Please, please, please.

Safe to say you gave them a scare. When they double down on the protectiveness, living is ten times more difficult for EVERYBODY. when you lose their trust, it's pretty difficult to gain it back, but not impossible!!

Sekido and Urogi will always assume the worst if you're gone for too long while Karaku and Aizetsu give you a little more freedom until the others drag them along into their worries.

[epickiya722]

Seeing someone say they hope Gege gets hit by a car and others going "good" because he's sick was just... look, hate or love the story but it's extreme to wish harm on some guy over FICTION.

You know, one reason why some people stop creating is because people do shit like that.

Imagine being someone who writes a fic and someone comments how they wish harm on you. OVER WORDS. THAT THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO READ.

Ridiculous, isn't it?

[stardustdiiving]

very long elaboration on this:

Mavuika is in a really unfortunate position where ultimately my issue with her is just that her character falls a little flat—in a way that really isn’t a unique or uncommon issue for Genshin characters, and doesn’t frustrate me much personally, but definitely ends up drawing a lot more ire from fans bc to how noticeable this is due to her specific place & role in the story

I don’t think Mavuika’s writing would stand out nearly as much if Natlan’s overall AQ didn’t also just, generally feel rather lackluster for a lot of people (myself included). But honestly i think these two things unfortunately kind of go hand in hand—how well executed the Archon is as a character has a lot of sway over the overall cohesion of the region in my eyes. Their individual character/arc is usually very intertwined with the overall themes/narrative of a region, which is something both the main AQ storyline & other characters of the region are going to be building off of as a result

Like regardless how individually invested people are in say, Nahida and/or Furina as characters/archons, I think they both fill their roles in their respective narratives pretty well, and their regions are stronger in a lot of areas for it. People wouldn’t like the Fontaine AQ nearly as much if people hadn’t been able to become emotionally invested in Furina as a character, and honestly I’d go as far to say a lot of the most popular characters in Sumeru & Fontaine would be a lot worse off from the region’s Archons being fumbled, because generally what makes a lot of Genshin characters interesting is how they interact with the themes of their region that, again, the Archon serves as a cornerstone for establishing. Haikaveh’s massive popularity as a ship, for example, isn’t random: a lot of people like it because the way the characters relate to the conversation of wisdom in Sumeru makes them engaging characters

The reception Natlan’s AQ & cast gets feels really lukewarm in comparison, and again I think that makes sense when it feels they didn't commit to one of the characters a lot of things are depending on as groundwork to build off

And I think…what really gets me about them fumbling Mavuika in particular is just how much she conceptually feels a character that would be well within Genshin’s capabilities to write. Like… I feel Mavuika & Ei’s writing, for instance, share the similar issue of Genshin not committing to their characters the way they need, but while Ei suffers from a lot of wishywashiness or backtracking on the role her character serves in Causing Conflict, the commitment Mavuika lacks is more solidly in a commitment in execution than who she is character wise.

Because I think we actually do have a good idea of what kind of character Mavuika is intended to be & what role she’s supposed to serve in the story, and it’s something I’d theoretically like & consider a welcome addition to the Archon lineup.

I like that she’s a normal human voluntarily assuming the role of an Archon, and I’m not even inherently opposed to her just being a very competent leader who’s good at her job. If we are going to have any Archon who “feels” more like what people would “expect an Archon to be” in terms of commanding authority/respect as a leader, I definitely think it suits the narrative best if it’s a human archon like Mavuika bc an intentional element of a lot of nonhuman Archon characters is that they’re /not/ supposed to “feel” like what you’d expect gods to be.

While I think her being good at her job works conceptually, in execution it’s definitely to her character’s detriment, because you can tell pretty quickly they are…not doing it in a way that leaves very much room for her to be a character you can really connect to emotionally.

Any attempt the AQ makes at giving Mavuika personal flaws/struggles/conflict ends up feeling really forced or pointless, because there’s no room in her characterization for things to meaningfully impact her as a person or invoke a response in you as the viewer other than “wow, Mavuika is so cool and well adjusted”

I know how Genshin writes characters, and I could tell pretty early on what they wanted to go for was that Mavuika is someone who is good at her job to the point of self destruction, someone who’s selflessness & sense of duty is admirable until it becomes sad/concerning with how much its prioritized over her own needs and wants as a person.

This character archetype of denying your own humanity and fixating self sacrifice, especially out of a sense of duty and/or poor self worth, is incredibly on brand for Genshin to write & something we know they’re capable of writing well and with variety.

Like, similarly to Furina, Mavuika is sacrificing/suppressing a lot of her humanity out of her sense of duty as an Archon. The fact she very voluntarily signed up for forfeiting her relationships with her family & neglecting her wants as a person because she’s so set on saving Natlan would be really compelling, but is constantly undercut by the fact it ultimately has little impact on…anything.

Mavuika’s grief for her lost family never makes her falter or struggle in places it would matter—other characters comment she doesn't focus on her own wants/needs, but this never seems to have any genuine emotional or physical consequences on Mavuika as a person or anyone around her. She just, um…tells you she figured out how to cope with her grief a while ago, or that she will maybe try to paint for fun to unwind between her responsibilities, etc.

It feels like even more of a missed opportunity when you consider how well elaborating on things like that would’ve aligned with Natlan’s “no one fights alone” mantra. If Mavuika is actively suffering from the consequences of shouldering so much burden alone out of a sense of duty i think it would’ve worked really well to have the rest of the Natlan cast challenge that, especially when they are so widely good natured and enthusiastic about being cooperative to an almost comedic degree

A lot of what they try to show of Mavuika’s emotions feels crammed into the last act of the AQ, and by then it’s really too late to have good pay off because there’s no room for build up. I wish they’d had something more along the lines of…Yelan getting into a tense argument with Xiao trying to self sacrifice in Perious Trail, or Nahida being so set on sacrificing herself for Sumeru’s sake in her 2nd SQ she’s seen torn up about & struggling to accept the outcome of someone sacrificing themselves in her place instead in the aftermath. Have her arc be struggling to internalize “no one fights alone” applies to her too, or something.

At the very least I wish there was more fanfare or resistance over her not being the one to sacrifice herself in the end omg. She just gets talked down a bit by Citlali & Traveler & then just kinda stands there like “oh…ok :(“ when Capitano shows up with a power point presentation about why this should be His self sacrifice moment now HAHDBXJHXND

Anyways. TLDR Mavuika feels like she was supposed to be a very specific flavor of self sacrificial Genshin character with problems but for some reason Genshin just didn’t do this, which was definitely to the overwhelming detriment of the emotional stakes for Natlan’s Archon Quest but really funny conceptually because it’s like here she is, the one you’ve all been waiting for: one (1) Genshin archon who’s main deal is being an abnormal level of emotionally well adjusted compared to everyone else. Enjoy!

Guys as someone who really enjoys the Archons on a thematic level the way they executed Mavuika as a character kills me omg

[valzhangism]

i know i said i was happy about how mel's story went, but the more i think about it the less i'm sure about that. this is very much connected to how the themes of classism and wealth disappeared in s2, but mel in the beginning was the epitome of piltover. she wanted to advance piltover to prove herself to her mother. to "put piltover—" and by extension herself, "—on the map."

she wanted wealth just to have it. and i'm not blaming her for anything that happened, especially with hextech! she, just like jayce and viktor, could not have known what it would lead to. i mean yeah heimerdinger said so but who the hell listens to heimerdinger? but anyway i think mel changed throughout s1, much in thanks to jayce. by the end she's become more cognisant of the mistreatment of zaunites. she's the first to vote for their peace. she was a good person all along but now she knows how to act on it. it's also seen more in s2 act 1. when she covers her painting with gold, it's symbolic—she won't act according to what her mother might think. she won't let her desire for approval dictate her anymore.

so somehow i wish those themes were. continued, somehow? like again they were dropped not just with mel but the whole show and it makes her story a off to me. there's no meaningful commentary on war or classism or how her ideology stands opposite to her mother's. like some people have said, it feels like she doesn't have much agency, even if she is really cool. and that to me is a shame because agency felt like her thing. "to shape your own destiny" as she says to jayce in s1. i know her collaborating with the black rose (but not fully joining them) and learning magic is supposed to represent becoming independent from her mother, taking her own path, but some other aspects of her character were thrown away... the more i think about it the more i'm thinking they kind of #girlboss-ed her a little bit. maybe to sell another champion. i can't help but feel like even though i enjoyed seeing her on screen, the payoff didn't feel proportionally satisfying compared to her setup in s1.

[monstrsball]

Iwaizumi doesn't know what to think when he finds his boyfriend in the entry way of their apartment, soaked from head to toe and clutching his jacket to his chest.

"I'm home." Suga says with a sheepish grin while he clumsily tries to get his shoes off without using his hands.

“You’re soaked,” Iwaizumi frowns, pushing his wet bangs back out of his face and eyeing the barely noticeable trembling of his shoulders. “Why aren’t you-”

Suga’s jacket meows.

Suga frowns down at the jacket in his arms. “You were supposed to let me do the talking first.” He says lightheartedly, his words are met with another slightly more indignant meow.

“Koushi, we talked about this.” Iwaizumi says.

“It’s raining, Hajime. The poor thing was soaked, I couldn’t just leave her out there.” Suga says, his tone soft. “Can we just keep her here for tonight? Until it stops raining? And then I’ll take her to the shelter.”

Iwaizumi wants to stand firm but his resolve slowly melts away when he looks at the cat again. She’s shivering just as much as Suga, the now soaked jacket likely not helping her keep warm. She’s nuzzling into his chest in search of warmth and it tugs at Iwaizumi’s heartstrings. 

He glances back at the door to the balcony. Still raining. 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi relents. “She can stay for tonight. Until it stops raining.” 

He has a nagging feeling that ‘for tonight’ is going to turn into indefinitely but the pure joy lighting up Suga’s face distracts him from this fleeting thought. 

“Yeah, yeah. You need to get out of those clothes.” Iwaizumi reaches out to take the cat from Suga’s arms. She's oddly compliant for a stray. “I’ll dry her off and get her some food and water. I think we have some canned tuna in the cabinet.”

“Ooh,” Suga whistles, gently depositing the little tabby into Iwaizumi’s open arms. “You hear that, baby? He’s spoiling you.” He coos. 

“It’s the only thing we have,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, readjusting his grip once he has the cat safely in his arms. She nuzzles into the newfound warmth immediately.

[buttercupshands]

Chapter 419 Analysis or "How to completely break Tenko Shimura" a manipulative guide from All For One (part 1)

This is mainly a character analysis of Shigaraki Tomura or Shimura Tenko, any other character present is there to help.

Chapter 419 was hard to comprehend even with just summaries right on April 4th. Some things need at least fan translation to fully make sense. Or just hurt more in that matter.

Warning of spoilers to the whole manga to the point of chapter 419! All of the warnings from the respective Tomura chapters are applicable.

So like... mentions of death, killing other people, manipulation, emotional abuse and many more!

This is Part 1 - See Part 2 for something less depressing

This is going to be long! So let's start, shall we?

First of all we'll need to take into understanding ALL the chapters that we'll need to remember/reread just make this chapter worse (skip if already familiar with them):

Chapter 222 - Tomura Shigaraki: Distortion

Chapter 234 - Destruction Sense

Chapter 235 - Tenko Shimura: Origins

Chapter 236 - Tenko Shimura Origins, Part 2

Chapter 237 - Tomura Shigaraki: Origins

This is your "Tenko and Tomura understanding" starter pack, basically. Without them it's harder to even start unpacking what just happened with Tomura's perspective in mind

Well then.

The chapter starts and we are immediately greeted by AFO semi-agreeing without wanting to, that Tomura was strong enough before Izuku started trying "saving" him in his own way and even succeeded making Tenko's will all the more fragile than it was when he returned using his hate to his advantage.

Even after Izuku holding Tenko's hands for the whole chapter he was still stubborn enough to continue even without that hate in his heart

And the thing that initial summaries missed was the fact that Tomura actually reacted to AFO reapperance.

Still not understanding why AFO was even saying that.

Tenko was literally taught by AFO to follow "what he wants" in ch 237 with Tenko making his first decision to kill someone himself. And never actually hiding that Tomura just needed to never forget that hatred and those bad emotions that Tomura never really understood. And it took Izuku seconds to decipher them.

With AFO reassuring Tomura that he has no need in following morals of society and just should follow whatever he wants - his want to destroy everything that hurts him. And only AFO would accept and help him. He was constantly reminded of that.

Even if Tenko was feeling sick from killing at first, even if hands that he wore were still making him sick 15 years later without him understanding anything. Decisions made while person is emotional are usually the ones that the person might regret the most and Tomura lived with those unstable emotions for years. Knowing that they hurt him and make him feel sick.

But Sensei said that it's okay to follow those emotions. That's it's actually great that he does it.

Everything was for his sake, everything was for Tomura Shigaraki and Tomura Shigaraki only. He was his Sensei's successor and no one should argue with it. He's the only one to be next ruler of the underground and the next king. And Tomura gladly accepted that as truth.

Since it was easier than facing his guilt.

Because AFO just needed Tomura to have enough willpower to get OFA when the plan is ready. To make Gigantomachia to follow him while Garaki was watching knowing full well how the plan is going. Both knowing full well that Tomura is still holding himself back.

In this chapter however we finally see how all of the things AFO told and taught Tenko were just to make him so sure that HE was in control and allowed to do whatever he wants to completely break his worldview in the end "after he gets OFA" which is an unreachable goal now since OFA is gone for good.

By just saying that Tenko never had any choice to begin with.

Tomura already knew that AFO manipulated him and he was just a pawn, needed only to get OFA and piss off All-Might he accepted and embraced it as something unimportant. It was his choice and he was free to do it and not feel bad about it. Since he's born to destroy.

Until suddenly it wasn't just his life after Decay that was manipulated.

But his whole life from birth. Just because AFO didn't get his hands on Hana sooner and she was happy while AFO needed someone hurt and broken. And Shimura's household wasn't as bad as he needed it to be at first with Kotaro loving his children, wife, in-laws and even his mother.

And AFO destroyed it by creating so much conflict and even going out of his way to make sure Tenko's father knew that he was playing heroes with some kids. And even saved them by putting his own quirkless life in danger.

In some sense narrator-Tomura's words at the end of ch 236 still might hold true. AFO didn't just create his hate out of nowhere, to make it feel like even if Tenko remembers everything it's still he's doing not a villain appearing, not just some accident that it actually was.

Although AFO doesn't say anything about people who didn't help Tenko even though he he knew that it happened so he most probably was watching it happen until Tenko lost all hope entirely to finaly make him dependent on his help.

And he succeeded for the most part.

Tomura was making an assumption after he remembered everything that he "must've been yearning for that" and from that point onwards explains everything that happened as "I wanted it - I did it" and was clinging to it like a lifeline to explain everything.

He accepted that if Re-Destro is talking about his Decay quirk affecting him he exists only to destroy.

And now it seems he found a false motivation for himself that AFO created by cruely manipulating everything from his quirk to his family. Making him believe he had a hand in it. Breaking one of "safe" truths that Tomura never doubted. They only made his decisions feel right.

Which makes that a hopeless loop of broken memories being staged just to let Tenko become Tomura who hates and destroys everything believing that it's his choice. Only choice at that.

And if destroying is him only choice because of his quirk... then what can a quirkless person do while having so many people dead from his own hands? Hands that were literally cursed to have destruction quirk in them not because he was born to do it. But because his own Sensei wanted that.

And he's "unwavering heart" is now nothing but an illusion that was destroyed by both Izuku and AFO together.

There's no "Can I be a Hero?", because can he even be a Villain if most of the choices that were from Decay and the hatred in his heart weren't actually his own?

[yellowhollyhock]

nah but it's so wild because like. It's almost a normal 'sibling growing up' story, where you understand why the younger ones feel betrayed and abandoned, but it hurts to see their anger or closing off directed at the older sibling who literally just went through a normal developmental stage. But then they both grow a little and it all smooths out even better than it was until a few years down the road you got the second half, where the older sibling feels betrayed by the person they've always seen as a kid becoming their peer and standing more on their own. And it's all understandable and it all hurts and it all smooths over.

Except with tmnt 2007 they're all adults together and Splinter really said 'It's time for Leo to go on a journey of self-discovery, he needs opportunities for further growth and he shouldn't be relying on us anymore. The rest of you should go outside less but I guess you can have jobs if you want.'

like bro they would've been on that journey together, the 'growing up without me' angst was literally unnecessary because they were all growing up. At the same time. Together.

Being the most skilled and obedient student was the only mark of maturity Splinter was willing to recognize when his sons were all becoming adults in front of him and he manufactured a divide that literally did not need to exist

[stevethehairington]

really fucking sick and tired of people who really fucking love the eddie book jumping on people who don't like or are even remotely critical of it's posts and like crusading their opinions around from the top of their high horses and shoving it down our throats.

if you like the book, great! that's awesome! love that for you! i am genuinely glad that you were able to find good in it and enjoy it!!

but not everyone did, and not everyone is going to agree with you. so, instead of going on some grand crusade where you find every single post that includes anything even remotely negative or negative adjacent or even neutrally critical and spending ALL this time and effort trying to provide unwanted rebuttals to every single thing, maybe you should just stay in your lane and find people who DO like the book and chat about it with them.

because i can PROMISE YOU, none of us appreciate it when you come onto our posts and start accusing us of "hating on" the author or "being rude" about her and her work and RIDICULOUS shit like that.

being critical of something and pointing out it's flaws is NOT inherently hating on it. i, frankly, do not know where people got that notion, but it's not fucking true so can we fucking quit assuming it is? and, critiquing something is also NOT the same as saying this is shit and it sucks and the author is a piece of garbage. again, where the fuck that came from is beyond me. you can be critical of something and still enjoy it. as soooo many of you love to point out, it's not perfect, why should it be perfect? so D U H. of course that means criticism can and should arise???

also. hot take (by which i mean ice fucking cold because it's NOT a fucking hot take), but going around toting FALSE facts as part of your "defense" does not make you or your argument look good. you, like the author, should maybe do a basic fact check first. 🙃

tldr, if you like the book, that's genuinely great, but stay in your fucking lane and stop seeking out posts from people who didn't like it to start shit in the notes.