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redbullcateringfiction · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2 -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Second chapter below the cut or click here for AO3

Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters

(Total: 7270 words thus far)

“How long have you been with Mercedes?” Mr. Wolff asked me.

“2 years at this point,” I nodded.

“And prior to that?”

“I was a personal assistant for an acting agent at United Agents,” I answered. “Prior to that, I received a Level 5 executive assistant diploma and project management diploma at Souters in the Netherlands.”

“What languages are you fluent in?”

“German, Dutch, Arabic, English, and French,” I explained.

“Arabic…that’s helpful,” he nodded.

“Yes. There was a continuous call for an executive assistant in the marketing department who spoke Arabic when I first applied here. I thought I’d be a good fit.”

“You only have 5 years’ experience at this point, and only 2 in Formula 1. Would you be prepared to take on the level of responsibility that this comes with?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Wolff, I’ve made it through 5 rounds of interviews and 4 exams. I have yet to fail a single one. This might just be what I was made for.”

Mr. Wolff looked up from his note pad and smirked. He seemed to think for just a moment, and then looked me in my eyes. “I agree. Can you start next week?”

“There’s a 90-day trial period when you first begin. If we decide to proceed, you’ll sign a formal employment contract for this role. If we don’t, returning to your role in Marketing will still be an option. If this role re-opens, you can re-apply in a year. Do you understand?” The HR manager asked me.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Do you mind if I say something…off the record so to speak?” He asked.

“No, no problem. Go ahead,” I nodded.

“This will be very hard. And you’re quite young. What, 25? You’ve been here for 2 seasons. We’ve only really been this team, like this at least, for 3 seasons. This will only continue to get harder. With Haug gone, we’ve got this new guy. You’re not just his assistant, you’re going to act like his curator with everyone else. You’re going to be the one really driving this connection. Afterall, you’re the one who plans every step of the day. If you leave during those 90 days, you get to take home 50% of your salary to keep you from going to another team. If you leave after 6 months, you get to take home 100% of the salary for a whole year. I’m just saying, you won’t struggle if you get tired of this.”

I thought for a moment. Was he telling me to leave or was he telling me I could? Was this a warning or a recommendation?

“Thanks,” I answered. I picked up my new badge off the desk. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It’s the end of the 90 days, Ms. Lazaar,” Mr. Wolff said, sitting me down at his desk. “Let’s have a talk.”

I could feel my forehead dripping beads of sweat. I hadn’t been perfect. Not at all. But I’d been pretty darn close. I have no clue what the threshold is for failure. That’s not something I was entirely used to. Executive assistants frequently find themselves doing this for years. If this didn’t work out, I don’t know if I would want to go back to marketing. I had spent the past 3 months in different countries, watching races from the pit practically. I experienced Formula 1 at a level I never imagined. Going back to sitting at a desk answering phone calls wouldn’t cut it anymore. This felt like it. And there’s only so many teams. There are only so many jobs just like this with my skillset. If this didn’t work out…well…I’d probably be at a bank by next year.

“How do you think you’ve done?” He asked. I hated questions like these. What was the point? You already know how I’ve done.

“I think I’ve done well. I haven’t been perfect. The first two weeks were hard, but after that settling in was easy,” I explained, with a small white lie about the ease. Nothing about this was easy.

“Easy?”

“I may have been bluffing,” I quickly gave up. He chuckled in response. Suddenly the air felt much lighter. My nerves suddenly subsided. I blotted my forehead with a tissue.

“Do you feel close to burning out at all?”

Yes. “No.”

“Was that a bluff?”

Okay, maybe I had been a bit emphatic with that no. And perhaps a bit dramatic with my thinking. “A little. This isn’t easy. This is hard. This is tiring. But I like it. I think I might even love it. I enjoy it. Sacrificing a few hours of sleep makes this worth it,” I answered.

“Well, I can tell you enjoy it. I think you’ve done a great job. I’m excited to see what you do with the rest of your tenure here at Mercedes,” He smiled, passing me an official hiring contract. I signed it with no second thoughts.

I looked down at my Tinder profile. In several of the pictures, I had put forth an effort to show off my long and dark curly hair. My favorite picture, was of course, first. It helped to showcase the kind of lifestyle you lead to ensure you only get matches you actually like. That picture was of me, on a yacht in Monaco with Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. What else screams “are you good enough for me?” quite like that? I need a new one though. This was getting a bit old.

“Ten years, yes?” Toto suddenly asked.

“Huh?” I lilted, looking up from my phone.

“Ten years at Mercedes for you. Coming up, isn’t it?”

“Is it? Has it been 10 years? Oh…well yes. I guess it has. I think in April.”

“April 18 th , to be exact,” He nodded.

“Cool,” I sighed, going back to my phone. I felt a hand come over and my phone had suddenly disappeared out of my view. I turned and Toto had it in his hand. This was the stuff of nightmares. There is no way in hell my boss can know I’m on Tinder. My heart jumped out of my chest as I suddenly went to reach over for it, I saw the screen had darkened. He at least had done me the favor of pressing the power button.

“Give it back,” I groaned.

“You’re so glued to your phone,” He mockingly groaned back.

“It’s literally my job to be.”

“Ah, then what are you so busy with at this moment that you can’t tell me what you’d like for your 10 th anniversary at the company?”

“None of your business,” I frowned.

“Then answer what it is that you’d like.”

“I don’t know, a pen or something? Can I have my phone back now?”

“A pen? A fucking pen? For a decade at a company, you want a pen? ”

“Yes. I’d love a pen. Now give me back my phone.”

He disappointingly handed over my phone. I continued swiping away until I noticed him take out his own phone. I looked up and scoffed, and he chuckled knowing exactly why. I looked back down and saw a profile that stood out. A super like.

Jeffrey, 40

I’m the nice guy your mom told you to settle down with, but with slightly less hair and more traveling.

Yeah, I’ve read worse. I swiped right and messaged him. As I patiently waited for a response, I looked back at Toto. I watched as he looked through the padfolio, seemingly memorizing every word on the page. I had, for a long time, deliberately put my head in the sand when it came to him. This morning though had seemed to shock me, and suddenly I found myself lingering on him. His hands turning the pages, his glasses slipping off his nose, and the way his dark eyes traced the pages I had written. In many ways, he is incredibly-Ah, my phone vibrated.

Jeffrey: Hey! Nice to meet you, Arabella. You’re a secretary?

I sighed and typed out my reply. Not a secretary. An executive assistant. “Fucking men,” I mumbled. Toto looked over with an eyebrow raised. I awkwardly smiled and went back to my phone.

Jeffrey: Oh, sorry! So, you know Hamilton?

If I were the type to cackle evilly, I would at this moment.

Me: I work with him.

Now, to let that fester a little bit. I looked down into my bag and pulled out my schedule and began making the necessary calls for tonight. It’s important to verify everything. First, the hotel, immediately followed by the driving company. I had nearly forgotten and phoned down UBS to ensure that the investors have their meeting scheduled for the correct time. I placed the necessary checkmarks in my schedule that represented ‘Yes, I’ve called them. Now it’s their fault if anything has gone wrong.’

And of course, to top it off, Bombardier. “Yes, we have the jet chartered for tomorrow morning at 8am,” Our private contact, Leanna, answered.

“Oh, perfect. And could you make sure that breakfast is ready for everyone?”

“Yes, absolutely. The usual for everyone?” She asked.

“Yes, and make sure Mr. Wolff’s pumpernickel snaps like a cookie. I think I recall it being a little too lightly toasted last time. Oh, and next week, we have that flight scheduled, too? Right?”

“Yes. I’ll send you an email too to verify all the rest of the flights for the year. But for you, Arabella! I don’t have your breakfast here.”

“Oh, I’m going to cook for myself in the morning. I’m a sucker for an English breakfast.”

“You sure?” She insisted.

“Really, Leanna. They are my bread and butter. Literally.”

She gave me a nice pity chuckle. “Okay, well, Francis will meet you at Heathrow.”

“Thank you, Leanna. Speak with you next week.”

“Obviously!” She laughed, hanging up the phone. I placed my checkmark next to the flight. I looked over at my phone and saw the new response.

Jeffrey: Oh, you work at Brackley?

You could say that.

Me: Yes.

Jeffrey: Well, I’d love to meet with you tonight and talk more about ourselves. What time are you free?

I gave it a little thought. It’s so easy to plan for everyone else.

Me: Does 9pm work for you?

Jeffrey: Perfect, how about Angler?

I’m impressed. And its close! Oh, God. Does he work for UBS? Am I over thinking this? I’m overthinking this. Why would 9pm be okay if he worked for UBS? He would certainly be at this event.

Me: Perfect-er.

Jeffrey: See you then.

I took my last glance at my phone before looking up at the driver’s GPS. 45 minutes left to go. I checked my email and did the slightest bit more work but otherwise enjoyed the little break I was getting. Every so often, I would peek my head up at Toto and watched him do little of much alike me. It doesn’t take long to read the documents I prepare, by design. I watched briefly for a moment as he Facetimed his children and watched his face beam with pride and joy. I tried not to watch for long, pretending instead that I wasn’t listening. Slowly, but surely, 45 minutes turned to 30, and then to 5. Then all of a sudden we were on the move. I grabbed the suitcases out of the trunk as Toto managed the other bags. We headed in through the large omniscient glass doors after crossing the courtyard, and I phoned down to the UBS executive assistant.

“Hello, this is Marie.”

“Hi, Marie. It’s Arabella and Mr. Wolff. We’re in the lobby,” I spoke quietly.

“Excellent, I’ll come down and meet you. Mr. Fischer will be about 5 minutes late for the meeting, but Mr. Wolff is welcome to start.”

“I’ll let him know. Thank you, Marie,” I said, right before hanging up.

“Okay, Toto. Bobby Fischer is going to be about 5 minutes late, but you’re welcome to start. Please actually do start. Don’t linger,” I explained.

“Will do, Arabella,” He sighed. He handed me my crossbody and I slinged it over my shoulder. “Ah there she is.”

I looked across the lobby and saw Marie walking towards us. The world of executive assistants is small, and we’ve truly all begun to know each other. Not all of the driver’s have assistants but Marie was Lewis Hamilton’s ex-assistant. Leaving your boss in this line of work is truly a bit like a break up, and this must feel like running into your ex’s parents a bit. I still get uncomfortable walking past the Marketing department. However, Marie was just like most of us current or ex F1 assistants. She was a hard ass. Much more controlling than you’d expect out of your typical assistant, and if I’m considered demanding, Marie is 10-fold. I don’t know if that management style worked for Lewis, but it's what a field like banking demands at times, so I imagine the crossover wasn’t as odd as it must seem.

“Wonderful to see you again, Arabella. And you too, Toto. Arabella, meet us on the 38th floor at approximately 1:30. I can have coffee made for you at arrival. Black coffee right?” It sounded less like a question and more like a statement.

“Absolutely. See you then,” I nodded. She ceremoniously walked towards the elevator with Toto, almost like a passing of the torch. I headed outside and brought up the directions to the hotel. Just around the corner really, but I can be a bit silly and somehow get all turned around. Truly why F1 driving was never for me.

I wandered into the hotel and saw the clear signs for the Angler restaurant. I knew it was close to the hotel, but it hadn’t processed it was in the hotel. I walked up to the check in counter while sending off the quickest message to my Tinder date. Have you made reservations?

“Hello, yes, I need to check in for Torger Wolff,” I explained.

“Ahh, for the Mercedes F1 team staying here tonight?” She asked.

“Yep,” I nodded.

“Can I see some ID?”

I handed over my ID and my phone quickly buzzed.

Jeffrey: Yes! Wouldn’t dare not to.

Oh, perfect. Great. Couldn’t get any better.

Me: Oh! Perfect! Great, couldn’t get any better! See you there.

I looked back up at her while she studied my ID.

“Are you with the Mercedes F1 team?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“What is it that you do?” She asked, almost snidely.

“I’m an assistant.”

“To whom?”

“Who do you think? Lewis Hamilton? Or the guy who’s bags I’m trying to drop off?” I smiled.

“Well, I don’t see you have a room booked here. How am I to know if you’re not just a groupie or something?”

“A groupie? In a suit?” I questioned, before shaking my head. I was trying to shake off what I really wanted to say in this instance. “Check the notes. It’s very clear that I’m authorized to enter his room and to check in.”

“I see no notes,” She smiled.

“Then call your supervisor,” I smiled back. I saw her roll her eyes as she picked up the phone. Soon enough, a young gentleman walked behind the counter. He had to be younger than me.

“Yes?” He asked.

“She is attempting to check in for the Mercedes F1 Team Principal. I see nothing on here about her checking him in,” She explained. Her manager took a glance at the computer screen, then over at me. He looked me up and down, before going back to the computer screen.

“Is this your ID?” He asked.

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Please, don’t catch an attitude. We’re simply trying to ensure the safety of our guests,” He smiled. An attitude? “I see you have no room booked tonight under the block of rooms for Mercedes-Petronas. Am I to believe that you simply are here to enter his room and then leave?”

“Yes, you absolutely are. Especially considering I have shown you my ID,” I explained.

“Then why aren’t you staying here if you’re with the team?”

“I live in London. In Chelsea?” I nodded.

“That’s a long way from here,” He sighed.

“Is it? It’s like half an hour,” I insisted. “No, nevermind that. I am here to check in for Toto-Torger Wolff. I am his executive assistant. I have a badge for Brackley that I will happily show you. I have no intention of staying at your hotel today because I would like to sleep in my own bed before heading to a whole other country for testing. I would like to simply drop off his bags in his room and ensure everything is up to snuff because that is my job . Nothing else, nothing more.”

“How about you just give us the bags and we’ll drop them off in his room?” He tried to appeal to my growing frustration.

“How about I take the bags up so I can do the other half of my job?”

He simply shook his head. I handed him my Brackley ID and he looked it over.

“Could these be faked?” He another hotel staff member who came over due to the commotion

“Fur sure they cud’ be,” he answered in a thick scottish accent. “My mukker’s git one for McLaren.”

“We won’t accept this,” He smiled at me again. The smiles were beginning to look faker and faker by the moment. This is the primary issue I find myself in being a Black woman working for what are essentially, sports celebrities. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they turned around and asked Lewis to leave.

“Here,” I gave up. I took out a business card for Bono. “Has he checked in yet? Give him a call and let him verify me.”

They took the card and dialed the number. They hung up after a few moments.

“He didn’t pick up,” They shrugged.

“Fine, do me the favor of at least taking the bags then? Up to the room?” I babbled. Words seemed to be lost on me at this moment.

“I think we’ll actually not. We can’t be sure what the content of those bags are,” the manager nodded.

Please. For fuck’s sake. “I’ll see you back at 2:00pm,” I tried to smile.

I took the bags back over to the UBS offices, and took the elevator up to the 38th floor and walked towards Marie’s desk. There she was sitting scrolling through her phone.

“Oh, Arabella,” she mumbled looking up. She looked at the clock, and then at her phone, and then up at my face. She stood up and looked down at my hands. “You’re early…and you still have the bags. Was the room not ready?”

“They refused to let me in,” I sighed.

“Again?” She questioned. I raised an eyebrow up at her. She was a pale skin tone, and had medium brunette hair that brushed her shoulders.

“I’m black, Marie. Yes, again,” I stated as I sat on the chairs by the office entrance.

She frowned. “Let me go get your coffee, love.” It was truly the lightest voice, and kindest voice, Marie had ever offered me. She usually gives me no type of affection, even though were in the same career. I think it’s a bit cutthroat and she got used to turning everyone away. I wasn’t used to this type of response from her. She soon returned and handed me the cup of coffee, sitting down next to me.

“Well, I’m sorry about that. I know, beyond all else, I can’t understand this type of situation as deeply and as well as you. Nonetheless, I know you’re good at your job, and that this simply isn’t fair for someone of your caliber.”

I stared into the cup of coffee for a moment, really letting her response process. I looked up at her and her flat expression. A signal of care for her.

“Thanks, Marie,” I offered a slight smile as I sipped my coffee.

“No need to fake a smile. I would call, but they’d probably pretend they don’t know who I am either,” She acknowledged.

“Don’t worry. His bags have to get in somehow.”

“So, what have you been up to you? Outside of this?”

“Nothing really. This is all I’ve been up to.”

“Listen, I don’t miss that life at all,” She mumbled. “There’s nothing quite like getting to work at 9 in the morning, and leaving at 5 in the evening. This is consistency. There’s no jetting across the world. I mean, I can actually have a relationship. I’m getting married, for Christ’s sake. That’s not possible in F1.”

“I want none of those things.”

“Is that why your phone just went off with a Tinder notification?” She chuckled. I looked down and Jeffrey had sent a message. I think I just passed you in Broadgate Circle! You must be there for the Mercedes event tonight at UBS, right?

I quickly responded. Yes, actually! Sorry, I didn’t notice you.

“That’s for hookups,” Not for boyfriends.

“Ah, nothing more, huh?” She answered.

“No.”

Jeffrey: Oh! Did you want to push our dinner to another day? Or did you want to meet at the event? I’m a lawyer for UBS so I didn’t see much of the point of going, but I’d be happy to.

Fuck.

Me: No, no! I’m completely fine with meeting at 9. I’m leaving the event early.

Jeffrey: Okay, great! Sorry if there was any confusion. See you at Angler.

I wasn’t overthinking! Isn’t this the best? Your anxiety being right always prevents it from going too far the next time. Obviously. Totally. For sure.

“I’ll leave you to your work now,” Marie smirked, standing up. “But I highly recommend leaving F1. What’s the plan? To be 60 and still galavanting around?”

“Presuming Toto Wolff still is, yes,” I grinned falsely. She rolled her eyes and walked behind her desk. I looked over my notes for the hotel. Everyone knew I was supposed to be checking in, and yet, nothing changed. These kinds of things seem to somehow never change. But, my checkmark reassured me. You did everything right. Now it’s their fault if anything goes wrong. That’s what it means, and it's a serious thing.

Soon enough, Toto left the meeting.

“Have a good afternoon, everyone! See you tonight,” He smiled, shutting the door. He looked over and saw me with the bags, and gently pinched the bridge of his nose. “Again, Arabella?”

“Again.”

“Once every few years, huh,” He said, grabbing the bags and immediately walking towards the elevator. I jumped up and followed him. As the years had gone on, Toto had gradually become more keenly aware of two things: He is a celebrity, and I am Black. As a result of his growing celebritas, and my very unchanging Blackness, these types of occurrences had become more frequent.

“So what was the reason now?” He asked.

“I look like a groupie,” I shrugged.

“A groupie? In a suit?”

“That’s what I said.”

Toto rolled his eyes and moved his glasses to his shirt collar.

“How was the meeting?” I offered.

“The usual. Numbers this, offers that. Etcetera, etcetera,” He waved his hand almost at the suggestion we could have a normal conversation at this moment. I took that as my sign to quiet down, and just follow him. So I did. The second we arrived to the hotel I watched as the original front desk employee scurried to the back, and the supervisor made a return. He smiled far too brightly for this moment.

“Arabella, introduce yourself,” Toto gestured to the supervisor as we walked up.

“No introduction necessary. The employee who just ran to the back introduced originally,” I smiled, even more brightly than the supervisor. I watched as his look turned a bit sour.

“Ah, well go grab her too. Was anyone else involved in this?” Toto asked me.

“A Scottish man but he didn’t really have much to say,” I shrugged.

“Oh, never mind who did and didn’t say anything. The point remains. Go grab the other two individuals she’s referring to,” He ordered the supervisor. We watched as he scurried about the backroom and nearly dragged the two out by their necks. As they approached the desk, he hid behind them like a scared puppy.

“I saw that your name tag said front desk manager, you can’t hide behind these two,” Toto complained. The man stepped from around the two employees. “Go ahead, tell me what happened.”

“What happened with what? I’m sorry, can we check you in Mr. Wolff? I’m not sure what’s going on,” The young lady suddenly piped up.

“You seem awfully scared to not know. Let me have an explanation, please,” Toto nodded.

“Well-” She began to speak again but was quickly interrupted by her boss.

“We asked her to show ID, and the produced ID appeared to be fake. So we did not allow her into the room,” The manager stated, suddenly piping up.

“So, did she provide any other identification?” Toto asked.

“No,” The manager replied.

“Arabella, don’t you usually have a lanyard with your Brackley ID on it?” Toto asked, turning to me.

“Oh, yeah, they have it. I never grabbed it back. Nor my ID for that matter, which they didn’t mention being potentially fraudulent when I came up here,” I sighed.

Toto put his hand out, and they handed over my identification. A Danish passport and the Brackley ID.

“And Bono’s card,” I gestured. The manager reached into the trash and took out Peter Bonnington’s business card, and handed it to me.

“So, did you call Bono?” Toto asked them.

“We did yes, but he didn’t pick up,” The manager replied.

“Oh okay, let me verify right quick,” Toto nodded, taking out his own phone and dialing Bono. “Bono, hello, you’re on speaker phone. Did you get a call from the hotel earlier?”

“No…was I supposed to?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Toto said immediately before hanging up. He just simply stared at them for a moment.

“Here’s your room key, Mr. Wolff,” The front desk woman said, handing the key to Toto.

“One for me, too,” I smiled. She produced another and handed it to me, with huge screaming eyes that said ‘save me.’ No, I don’t think I will.

“And at this moment, right now, place a note on the account saying Arabella Lazaar is my assistant and any needs she may have related to my reservation should be addressed,” Toto ordered them.

“Actually, could you tell me who made the block for the rooms?” I asked.

“That would be uh…” The manager said, scrambling around the computer. “Um…you Ms. Lazaar.”

“Is this incompetency or is this bigotry? I’m not sure which, but whichever, I recommend the three of you have new jobs lined up in the morning. And when they ask ‘Oh how did you get fired?’ Don’t put anyone from my team’s name in your mouth, including my own,” Toto grumbled. They nodded, and he turned on his heel and walked towards the elevator.

“Oh, Mr. Wolff!” The front desk lady nearly screamed at the top of her lungs. “We’ve upgraded your room to the presidential suite.”

He threw his hand up dismissively as we got into the elevator, as if to say both ‘thank you’ and ‘just stop.’ As we got in he turned to me and took a deep breath.

“They were quite the group of idiots weren’t they? I’ll call the company behind this place and get it sorted out.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Nothing to appreciate really, these things shouldn’t go this way. You provided everything they needed, and yet they decided to still treat you wrong. That’s on them, and they should’ve known there would be consequences for their actions,” He explained. “We have our own security. It helps when the front desk at hotels also pays attention to possible situations, but at the end of the day, they’re not supposed to go beyond their liability. They took it much too far, and who’s to know if you were the first, or if they’d be worse next time?”

“I understand that, but,” I hesitated. “They still need their jobs, and I don’t want my boss turning around and using his fame to protect me.”

Toto looked up at me, and smiled. “Arabella, we have responsibilities to one another. You handle nearly every moment of my life. In turn, yes, I pay you, but I also make sure that while under my employment, you’re well treated. That would be the same if this were Formula 1 or if it were just another company.”

I thought for a moment, and while I knew he was right, I don’t know how comfortable I felt having anyone take responsibility for me. But…I suppose…everyone needs things addressed that they can’t handle themselves. There isn’t really anyone else for me to rely on. That’s kind of frightening. Suddenly, Marie’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. I almost thought I would get dizzy. I’m 35 now. I love my life, but am I wasting it? Should I be settling down?

I looked over at Toto who seemed to be patiently awaiting my response.

“Yes. You’re right,” I stated, a little too shakily.

“Are you nervous?” He asked as we exited the elevator.

“No, just stressed, really.”

“You have vacation days. You should take one,” Toto shrugged, pressing the key to the door and swinging it open.

“I only use them during the holiday break. We’re far from that.”

“If you think of the week between testing and the first race as a holiday, then it’s right around the corner,” He winked, as he opened the door for me.

“Absolutely not,” I chuckled, setting his suitcase on the bed. I took a quick look around the room and then texted security to let them know Toto was inside the hotel room.

“Looks good, Toto. I’ll head out,” I said with a quick head nod.

“There’s a whole separate room attached here. If you want to change here, you’re welcome to,” He spoke without looking up from his phone.

I could feel my cheeks get hot, so without thinking I just ran out of the room, trying to pretend I didn’t hear him. I immediately pressed my hand to my forehead. That was stupid. It was a relatively normal offer. There was nothing weird about that and yet I reacted like he asked me to jump off of the London eye. Shit. I made it weird didn’t I? Or did he make it weird? Was it weird at all? No, no it wasn’t. God, Arabella. Stop overthinking for once. I headed for the elevator and went down. As I was leaving, I couldn’t resist making a little bit of eye contact with reception.

Ha.

Tags: @daddyslittlevillain

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ettawritesnstudies · 1 year ago

Text

Thank You

If you’ll permit me a minute to be cliche: this photo would not have been possible without you. When I started university in August 2019, the sum of all my author-y potential measured up to:

No finished manuscripts

A pipe dream of ever publishing my work

A scatterbrained outline of The Laoche Chronicles

Forty-four phone notes full of half-witted ideas

A grand total of 3 followers on my brand-new tumblr account

At the time, I had no grand plans of marketing my work, though I knew it would be necessary if I ever wanted an audience. I chose a degree in chemical engineering because I knew my baby platform and half finished stories weren’t going to cut it as a career in their current state as an 18-year-old, and I needed to have a day job if I wanted to pursue my end dream of self publishing. I was just hoping to survive my first year of engineering school, pass my weed-out classes, and hopefully make some new friends. That fall semester passed with sporadic progress on my book, and halfhearted attempts at breaking into the writeblr community, until I decided to try my hand at Inktober and made my first few acquaintances: @siarven and @abalonetea, who have both featured on this blog since then. It was also at this point, sometime during a Calculus III lecture, that I invented my pen name:

All was going well, and I was pleased with my incremental progress until the world ended.

The less said about the pandemic, the better. Writeblr truly kept me sane through working full-time jobs and taking 18 credit hours during the semester. When I was truly close to dropping out of school, I kept going, knowing I had these online friends to cheer me up after brutal exams and long nights of studying. The tag games and community filled the dearth of interaction left by quarantine and an insane schedule. During my summer internship in 2020, I finally had the time to finish the first draft of Storge and the confidence in myself to start a website. Rereading my first post is a surreal experience, in part because I still see myself as a little kid as hiding under the blankets with a flashlight, notebook, and pen, thinking “I wanna write a book!”

I woke up the next day crying to the sheer volume of kind messages congratulating me on meeting this milestone. Instead of feeling burnt out after reaching such a lofty goal, this gave me all the more energy to keep working. Since then, I’ve been so blessed to grow this community and this website. It’s incredible to see how far I’ve come, now being able to claim:

A finished manuscript of Storge

A 3rd draft of Runaways after going through 2 rounds of Beta Readers

8 short stories and an audio drama

An active mailing list

Over 1000 followers on tumblr, but more importantly, a thriving community of writers who support each other’s releases through ARCs, leaving reviews, enthusiastic questions, and a welcoming space for new writers to share their craft.

140 posts on my website and regular readers who care about my ramblings ❤

Now I’m on my way to my new job – I’ll be doing research and development in my chosen field with a team I really like, and the freedom to listen to books while I’m in the lab. This next month will still be a hiatus for blog posts and new writing as I pack up my life for a cross-states move, but I’m beyond excited to enter change. My hope is that I can start saving for editing costs and devote more time to my craft thanks to a 9-5 schedule and NO!!! HOMEWORK!!!!!!!!! Really, I cannot say enough how thrilled I am to never have to take another exam ever again, thank GOD. With a bit of luck and no small amount of grace, I hope I can publish and share my stories with you sooner rather than later.

Thank you for all the support and camaraderie these past years. In a way, I owe this diploma to you as much as to my classmates and professors. The night before graduation, I said to my friends, “I’ve been waiting for tomorrow for eight years.” Now I’m living in the future, and I can’t wait to write the next chapter.

#etta rambles #graduation

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inanimatefan1 · 1 year ago

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Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 6 (Collage)

The wheel of time continues its relentless spin, but life doesn't get any easier for Alex and his family. His mother's grueling double shifts and Alex's two jobs barely make ends meet, while the bills and responsibilities seem to multiply by the day. Yet, despite the hardships, Alex remains focused on his education, first completing high school and now diving into community college courses whenever he can steal a moment. I watch—or rather, feel—this all unfold from my unique vantage point. Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I have been with him through every season, every part-time job, every exam, and every family crisis. Though I'm growing older and showing signs of wear, Alex's mother continues to work her miracles, patching me up here and there, extending my lifespan as good as she can.

In this long journey, Alex's scent has become so deeply embedded into me that it's become a part of my very fabric. It's the aroma of hard work, determination, and, dare I say, love. I've absorbed it all, each layer of scent adding another chapter to our shared story. Alex continues to hustle, squeezing in study sessions at the library, in the break room at work, and late into the night at the small table in their cramped living space. His eyes may be red from exhaustion, but they're also filled with hope, a glimmer that never goes out. He’s working for something bigger than himself, and I'm proud to carry him toward that future. As the years go by, it's clear that Alex is building towards something. Though the struggle is far from over, every time he laces me up, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride and honor. For Alex, I'm not just footwear; I'm a piece of his journey, a journey fraught with hardships but also rich in love, sacrifice, and unyielding resolve.

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 7 (the End)

As Alex walks across the stage to receive his diploma in mechanical engineering, I can almost feel the weight of the parchment in his hands—though of course, I'm not there. I am, however, with him in spirit, imbued with years of his hard work, sacrifice, and hopes for a better future. His degree is not just a piece of paper; it's a triumph, a lifeline to new opportunities and a testament to his resilience and ambition. A few months and numerous interviews later, Alex lands a job in his field. It's a pivotal moment, one that promises to ease the burden of financial hardship that has weighed on him and his family for so long. Though he attempts to juggle this new job with his other commitments, he soon realizes that something has to give. With a heavy heart, he bids farewell to the grocery store job that saw him through so many years, thanking the manager who took a chance on him when he was just a kid. Though he leaves the grocery store, Alex opts to keep his morning paper delivery job. It now fits conveniently with his primary job's schedule, and perhaps there's a part of him that isn't quite ready to let go of that routine, that connection to a humbler time. With the new job, life starts to change for Alex and his family. The financial strain eases, albeit gradually, and there's a palpable sense of relief in the household. For the first time in a long while, there's breathing room, an ability to look toward the future rather than just surviving the present. And so, as Alex steps into this new chapter of his life, I continue to be with him every step of the way. His scent—now a complex blend of youthful struggle and adult achievement—is as ingrained in me as ever, a scent I've come to regard as the essence of resilience and hope.

Though Alex has been provided with workwear by his new employer, he continues to wear me, his trusty sneakers, showing his loyalty to something that's been with him through thick and thin. However, his boss takes notice of my worn-out state, likely drawing conclusions about Alex's financial background based on the condition of his clothing and shoes. One day, his boss presents him with a new pair of work-appropriate shoes. Though it goes against his emotional ties to me, Alex knows deep down that my years of wear and tear make me unsuitable for the rigors of his engineering job. Reluctantly, he accepts the new shoes, understanding their practical necessity. He wears them at work, but the moment he's off the clock, he switches back into me. Being replaced, even if it's just for the workday, stings initially. But then I realize that this is another transition in Alex's life, another sign of his upward mobility and the improving fortunes of his family. In that light, the new shoes don't feel like a replacement; they feel like a complement, another chapter in a story that has room for more characters. And so, in the evenings and on weekends, when the work shoes are set aside, Alex slips back into me. I savor those moments, the feel of his feet, the unique scent that I've come to adore. And each time he chooses to wear me during his free time, I feel a swell of pride and affection. After all, I am more than just a pair of shoes to Alex; I am a cherished companion in his life's journey.

It becomes a new routine for us: he wears the new, professional shoes for his job, but in the moments that matter—family outings, trips to the grocery store, or simply lounging around the house—it's me he chooses. And that choice says more than words ever could. I may not be the only pair of shoes in Alex's life anymore, but I know I still hold a special place in his heart. And that's more than enough for me.

Even as I witness the profound changes in Alex's life—the new job, the newfound financial security, and the lifting of old burdens—I can't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty when I see him bring home a brand-new pair of sneakers. Bought by his mother, no less, a woman who knows the value of hard-earned money and the sentimentality of treasured possessions.

As the weeks go by, Alex starts to wear the new sneakers more frequently, and I can sense a shift. From my spot near his bed, I watch as he increasingly chooses them over me. Though I would never begrudge him this new chapter of comfort and choice, I do wonder what this means for me. After all, to Alex, I'm just a pair of sneakers, and he has a new pair now. But even as I'm relegated to this less-active role, I take solace in my placement near his bed—a position of honor, it feels like. I may not be the shoes he slips on every day anymore, but I'm still here, still part of his life. Perhaps I've moved from being a daily necessity to being a cherished memory, a reminder of the journey he's taken to get to this better place. It's not the same as feeling the press of his feet or the warmth of his daily wear, but it's something. And in those quiet moments when he looks my way, perhaps recalling the miles we've walked together, I can't help but hope that someday, he might slip me on again, if only for old times' sake.

The End.

#inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #inanimate object #inanimate sneakers

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maximotts · 9 months ago

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I held off on using scrivener for a long time because of the price tag. But has a 30 day trial and when they say 30 days they mean 30. It’s not from the 1st to the 30th of the month it’s you using it thirty different days. I went through a writing slump and had the trial for like six months lmao. So that is definitely worth a try if you’re still not sure about committing. (PC & Mac - not sure about the others)

I like that you can cloud back up with drop box. If you also buy the ios/android app (less than pc but still a lot. $40 AUD for me) you can switch between them easily. I don’t personally write on my phone but I feel safer with a physical version and a cloud back up.

I find writing on scrivener much easier. Especially long form. The cork board feature is super useful and hard to find somewhere else. There’s a notes feature for each separate scene which is useful when you want to write an idea down without interrupting your flow. I found it hard to plan fics because it’d just be a big block of text (and maybe a diagram) that I’d scroll through which not only sucked up time but I wouldn’t use it a lot and then have to rewrite stuff when I saw an idea I love but forgot.

I also love the scene feature because it stops me from accidentally rereading what I’ve already written instead of writing lmao. I’m writing stuff so much faster because I don’t see a big chunk of text and go “well I should reread to remember where I’m at” like I didn’t write 12 hours ago.

I was also hesitant to buy it because “it’s just another program google docs works just as well” buuuut it’s not. I was just barely writing lol. I would give the trial a go because it really gives you a chance to get familiar with everything without forcing yourself to write a much in a month. If you don’t end up liking the program you can export what you’ve written in there on the last day pretty easily so no harm no foul. The program has an simple setting to consolidate everything.

I also use scrivener for study! I’m getting a diploma to become a library technician and find the organisation of scrivener so helpful for taking notes. It also makes printing them for exam season so much easier.

So yeah :) I think you should get it but take advantage of the trial first just in case. Sorry for so much text but I hope this helps!

Ooo no apologies needed, I really appreciate the detailed review! I didn't know the 30 day trial meant thirty days of active use but that's actually so amazing, I love that!! I find sometimes when I'm trying to like, force myself to learn too much new stuff at once I get too stressed to like, take a breather with the program and then I end up not liking it as much so that's a really good feature!!

And YES to the rereading what you've already written because I fall into that trap way too much and then I'm like "welp now I have to get up and do something else now!" and nothing new gets done!!

Anything that's good for notetaking is a must try in my book tbh, I've been toying with doing a second degree for a bit, but also I just love to take notes on anything and everything I read and research so 👀👀

#anon asks.#answered

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rosethornewrites · 2 years ago

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Story time!

When I was a freshman in high school back in the 90s, I had the misfortune of breaking both of my big toes, but not at the same time (thank goodness). Literally one healed and a matter of days later I broke the other one. Terrible luck, honestly.

Problem is… Every time you take a step, that big toe is holding 25% of your body weight, so basically I was told I couldn’t walk much. As such I had a doctor’s note excusing me from gym, both times, so I could heal.

My gym teacher was furious. She swore I was lying and it was a whole thing. She was also just generally a terrible teacher who would tell us to go lift weights and while she slept in her office because it was first period. But I digress.

Gym teacher has it out for me. Is looking for some way to get to me, but aside from that I was participating and doing reasonably well. She hated it.

And then the day we were to run the mile, 3/4 of it in freshly cut grass, and I had asthma and it was a disgustingly high temperature out and there were family issues and my mental health was in the toilet, and I just… strolled the mile. Final time was 21 minutes. A friend strolled right beside me.

Well, that sealed it. She made the mile time the final exam grade for the entire school year. Just because she could. Didn’t matter about my asthma or anything.

So I failed freshman physical education.

The family issues involved moving ultimately, so the next year I was in my mom’s hometown, going to her old high school, and having her guidance counselor from back in the 1970s.

At least at that time, passing 4 full years of physical education was necessary to graduate high school, so I was fully expecting that I’d have to take summer school gym.

The guidance counselor asked how I’d failed PE, and I related the whole story. And he looked at me, looked at my mom, and said, “We’ll just input it as passing, then.”

So I won in the end anyway.

Now, I’m turning 40 in less than 2 months, and do you know I still have stress dreams where my high school diploma is rescinded and in order to get it back and keep my higher education degrees I have to take high school PE?

I have the dream more than once a year, and I can’t understand why I still have them all these years later.

#dreams #physical education #education #memory #personal

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halfgoosehalfmoose · 4 months ago

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Too late for therapy

Since after the lockdown I have felt unbelievably low at times. That was right when I started high school, and I remember it got to the point I struggled with suicidal ideation. There were 3 different times where I picked up a pen and paper with the full intent of writing a suicide note but couldn't even think of what to write because I didn't quite understand these emotions myself. But I remember stop studying or not doing homework when I was feeling down not because I thought I needed a break, but because I kept thinking "why bother with this now when you may not even make it past 18". I was stressing and struggling for the sake of a future I might not even have. I did not plan or think about the future, which I am paying for now, because in my head my biggest concern was just not killing myself.

I never learned how to talk about my emotions seriously, I never told anything to anyone. I was going through the absolute hardest most soul-crushing exhausting period of my life but all by myself. It got a lot worse on my last years of highschool, because academic pressure increased and problems with my friends and myself showed up. It felt like powering through a bush of barbed wire that kept getting denser and denser, but not knowing why or if it would even end. Graduation felt so freeing. I realized how much school was weighing me down and I started to actually feel hopeful about university.

That is when I approached my father about therapy. I wanted to start from scratch in uni, put all that struggle behind and somehow become better. But I feel he didn't really take my request seriously. He kept stalling and I had to remind him of what I asked. I know we can afford it because we are well off financially and we have already spent a lot of money in personal requests. It felt frustrating because I needed so much time to gather courage to ask him, I wanted to since I started feeling suicidal and it was like it amounted to nothing.

Now I moved to Germany to try uni here and I am feeling so many things, but mos of them are rooted in how much I'm liking it. It has been more than 3 months and I don't miss my parents. I am not particularly sad over not having friends here, and I never remember to call family or friends with updates. I don't feel there was an adapting period where I felt I didn't belong. There is the matter of the language, as I am still learning German, but it is not affecting me much. I was scared at first because I always heard about how sad and depressing it is, how rude people are, but that was not my impression at all. For sure it is very different from home but not at all as I was expecting(still waiting for winter to fully judge though).

I feel like a bad friend and bad daughter. I left my parents alone. My sister already left too and neither is married or has a partner. I was sad for so long thinking my friends didn't value me but now I don't know how to talk to them.

On the other hand, I'm paying for not thinking about the future. I thought I could easily study biology with my diploma but i didnt take the subjects i had to take so now I need at least 1 year to study for germany's university entrance exam and it will probably make me miss the applicationi deadline meaning I will have to wait another year, making me 3 years late to start university and that is if I go well on the test. I feel like I am wasting so much money since the Euro value keeps rising and my parents are paying all my expenses and I cant even work even if i wanted to.

There are so many things bottled up for so long that I want to deal with and talk to a therapist about but they are in the past. I dont know if it would even do any good bringing them up or just letting them stay behind. I dont even know how to start looking for a therapist and I know it can be expensive and wait time can be long. I feel like I am failing in every way possible.

#vent

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masongrizchel · 6 months ago

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How It All Started From False Hopes 🌟

This is a personal story of mine. 🌟And ...

It all started with false hopes. 😔

One of my high school teachers offered help for me to take an entrance exam. During my last days as a senior (4th year), I was wondering how my future would go. Unsure of what the future holds, whether I will go to college or not. The thoughts of not being able to study gushes like waves at high speeds. But the reality that the moment presents is that I CAN'T (financially). I was overwhelmed by finding all the means and resources that I could use to maximize that time. 💭

I was able to take other entrance examinations to other universities both local and private from the earnings that I was able to collect. And fortunately, I passed. But it wasn't good enough. I haven't considered the transportation expenses as well as the extra money needed for food and internet access. This was one of my early financial constraints. No one was there to support me but myself. I CANNOT ENTER COLLEGE. Tuition fees that need to be settled every semester are costly. The chance of making my dream come true is to pass the entrance examination that my teacher asked me to take, which is also based on the student teacher who observed us at that time. 💸

This mind-blowing thought of going to college, to me at least, is too ideal. I have this idea rushing as I walk the approximate 3-4 km distance from my place to school. I also imagine myself wearing school uniforms from different schools which I took entrance tests. 🚶‍♂️📚

Time Skip: Enter graduation 🎓

The school year ended, but still the mindset that I can no longer enter college is realistic enough that made me lose all the possible means and hopes. Two months have passed after the examination. It is around 5 pm when I decided to walk from my place to somewhere and decided to gaze at the list of passers.

In front of the university admissions building approximately 10 meters, I saw the bulletin board with almost 30-40 pages of paper with names from A to Z.

As I walk, my heart rushes.

tug dug

The board becomes clearer and clear. I stood in front of it. And took a deep breath.

G familiar names appeared

still wondering why some of my friends didn’t passed

*I skipped M

The nervousness increased

I browsed at M. Then, surprise. I saw my name. I qualified, I passed. This boosted my motivation to find means to enter college. But realty is too frank to make me realize that it is impossible. And it is the sad truth. 😳

Time flies, someone offered a help. I accepted it. I was able to push through. I gave up my work as a school canteener in the school where I obtained my high school diploma. 🤝

Finally I was able to enter college. I just wanted to finish my degree and uphold the dreams that I have during that time. I also imagined my self to graduate with Latin Honors. But 1st semester of my first year destroyed that dream. Hahaha! I received a grade of 2.75 in English 1. 📚😅

The sole reason is my tardiness - attendance affected my grade in the subject mentioned. The class starts at 7:30 am, and I arrive at 8:01 am. I struggled in academics, due to lack of interest (especially some of the gen ed subjects). I enjoyed the major subjects (physics, chemistry, and earth science). 🕒

Two years … Three years … Four years have passed. Time flies so fast. I felt that the content that I obtained is insufficient for me to become a fine astrophysicist. Since I also loved different learning opportunities outside the classroom. I met various people. I wanna become part of the community that they are in (and it is the science community). 🌌

I suffered a lot, mental, emotional, and intellectual. My math and physics is insufficient. I jumped from high school physics to graduate physics which demands familiarity with (1) Differential equations, (2) Integral Calculus, (3) Trigonometry, (4) College and advanced Algebra, (5) Linear Algebra. 🔢

So far so good, I was able to cope up, Not fully, but familiarity took time. I learned advanced math when I entered grad school. And I’m very thankful to learn so much things from great professors that shaped my view about the values of learning. The essence of passion, perseverance, and determination to chase your dreams. And dream further once you achieve a dream after dream. 💪

Sometimes, dream starts from false hopes. But when you turned that falseness into truth. We can essentially make things possible as long as you live the dream and take appropriate actions to turn it in to reality. Life itself is bounded by choices. It is our choice to become the person who we really wanted to be. This kind of existential crisis defines our very own existence. There should always be a start, there should always be a turning point. This will help you out reach point A to your desired point B. ��️

Oh well gotta do some graduate student stuff. (By the way, I got shortlisted for the Ph.D. Astrophysics and Data Science - Artificial Intelligence program), hopefully, they'll reach out and fund my research proposal. 🎓🔭

Yosh! 💪

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qualityempathshoebear · 2 years ago

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2022, a crashing rollercoaster

Hey you,

its been a while. Ok yeah, maybe a little more than "a while". The year is over, and i think its time to reflect. But first, let me catch you up on everything thats happened since I last came on here.

Im still in Leeds, and will realistically stay here until I leave for University. Youre probably wondering what happened, why im not in Singapore. Well... my dads job didnt think he had enough experience, so what was supposed to be a delay, turned into a cancellation. So I have basically had to go to a school i wasnt supposed to be at in the first place, for a whole half-year. It was absolutly horrible and I had no friends. There were three (sometimes four) nice girls who I would sit with during snack and lunch. But it was almost always just us sitting in silence or me going on the computer in front of me, so I didnt look like an absolute fucking loser. I would go on VG and read the news every day and must have looked like such a loner to the people behind me. The girls were nice, but I didnt feel like we ever got to know eachother, I felt so fake the entire time.

And dont get me fucking started on the morning forms. I fucking hated coming in there just to sit in awkward silnce while staring ahead. And those horrible meditation sessions that the form tutor would do. I would just sit there with my hands in my lap, hoping for it to end. The girl sitting next to me was nice tho. I think she could tell I wasnt enjoying myself. I can honestly say I had no friends in that place, and that it was single-handedly the worst school experience I had ever had. And I know parts of it was my fault. I wasnt willing to make friends because everything felt so temporary. Even being in England still does. But wait, why are you talking in past tense? Im happy you asked. You see, I begged my dad to send an email to IB headquarters and ask to get the official copy of my diploma so I can apply directly into college (Englands equivalnce to highschool), without having to take their middle school exam (because fuck that!). And it luckily arrived on the last day of chistmas break... so I dropped out.

The plan now is that im going abroad to stay with my aunt until september, because I honestly just cant deal with staying in this horribly sad country. Everything about it is sad. The weather, the food, the disgustinly chlorinated water, the people, the buildings, even their fucking buildings are sad. I just cant fucking deal with it, It so similair to back home. No, its ven worse here. What was even the point of moving.

I have been so incredibly stressed because of the whole situation and its really taken a tole on me. I have had so much anxiety, to the point where I cant even sleep at night without panicking. Im constantly tired, I have lost so much weight, I have a breast infection in both my breasts (to be fair, I did have it before coming here), im depressed, and honestly, a little sui*idal.

To make matters worse, my parents have become religous freaks. And its definelty not helping that my mom has befriended some super religous woman, with the same background as us. Theyre making me do some weird post-menstruation shower ritual every fucking month (yes, theyve been tracking my period, gross!). Dont get me wrong, I dont actually end up doing them. I protest for a while and then I lie and pretend like ive done it. Around two weeks ago my dad came to my room to tell me to do the ritual, and I told him I couldnt because I was sick (and i actually was). Long story short, he didnt believe me and started yelling at me. I told him he was pressuring me into becoming religious. He freaks out and basically threatens me and pushes me (at some point even yanking my phone out of my hands, saying hes going to take it from me). All this while my mom watches and doesnt do anything besides saying my dads name and grabbing his arm every now and them. She even left at some point, but made sure to come back to gaslight and guiltrip me. I told her that if anyone touched me ever again I would call the cops immidielty. I havent really spoken to dad since. Its honestly really strained the relationship with my parents, and its making me realise that we will never have a normal relationship. In some ways I wish I could just be religous so I could save myself the anger, stress, and constant fighting with my parents. But whenever I give the idea further thought, I cringe. Even religion is ruined for me because of them. I feel that I shouldnt be religous, as revenge. The only way I could ever see myself becoming religous, is if I married a muslim man, and he helped me heal from all this fucking trauma. But I dont think I will do that. The only upside is that he wouldnt leave me, because of the stigma of divorce in muslim communities. But heck, I honestly just want to be loved. As gross and sappy as that sounds.

This year was supposed to be filled with laughs, new starts, new frienships, money, and much more. And instead I got none of it. I dont know, maybe this is what I deserve. Its safe to say that 2022 was my worst year yet. There were some highs, but mostly lows. Real fucking lows.

Im honestly just happy that I get to leave this wet-red brick country (even if its just temporarly), and hopefully in the meantime, my dad will get a job somewhere else so we can leave. If not, University is my only way out.

Now youre pretty much all cought up with whats worth to be cought up on. Before I leave, Ill share my new years resolutions and what I hope to focus on in 2023.

New years resolutions:

-Drink 2L of water a day, Gain weight, Workout once a week, Grow finger and toe nails, start daily journal, Grow hair and repair hairline, Get a new hobby, Grow eyebrows and eyelashes, Read 3 books, Solve Cains Jawbone, Clear skin, and to watch a musical live.

And in 2023 I hope to repair (as much as possible) my mental and physical health.

That would be all for now, until next time! <3

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astroluvr · 3 years ago

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a/n: this isn’t a much, but I do hope you enjoy! this was a request for teen!dad jack, so here we have it!

***

"Y/N L/N.” your heart pounded when you heard your name called across the stage.

It felt like a long time coming to reach your senior graduation. Most of your plans were thrown off course when you found out about April at the beginning of summer. You and Jack sat down and devised a plan that led to you to your small apartment in the nick of time for her birth. Nothing was perfect, it wasn’t easy to try and stay up late feeding a baby and studying for exams, but you did it and you were proud of yourself.

You didn’t miss the stares that came when you walked the halls with a swollen stomach and you certainly didn’t miss them when you walked across the stage in front of people who didn’t think you, or Jack would make it. None of that mattered, though, when you saw the pair of eyes you’d been looking for. For the first time in a long time, she had both eyes open in observance and they seemed to light up when she saw her mother.

“Congratulations, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re doing great things.” your principal told you softly as she gripped your hand.

“Thank you.” you said sincerely before taking your diploma and holding it up just enough for a picture.

At the end of the all-too long ceremony, you found Jack and stood next to him, clutching his hand through the instructions to move your cords to the left. Jack watched you with adoration, no more than five months after having a baby were you moving your cord in celebration.

“Move your cord, baby!” you practically bounced in excitement, but Jack was much happier that it was over.

“You can do it. You did everything else for me.”

“This is an honor, you know.” you took a step closer and shifted his cord to the left as you connected your lips in celebration while everyone around you threw their caps in the air. “Congratulations!”

“Congratulations!” he yelled back, pulling you against him as tight as he could in a hug. “Let’s find April.”

You and Jack rushed through the crowd of happy graduates with smiles on your faces. You two eventually found April near the car in front of nice spot to take pictures. April’s eyes widened when she you two, her tiny fist waving up and down and tugging at the graduation cap shaped balloon in her hand.

“Hi, my baby!” you reached for her and Maggie took her son in her arms as your family did the same.

“All of us are really proud of you two. Especially Ms. April.” she squealed when her grandmother poked at her tummy.

“Thank you. Jack and I truly owe so much of it to you. I’m sure this is... much different than you expected, but we appreciate your support.”

“Y/N, you’re family. Don’t have to thank us at all. Jack wouldn’t have passed without you.”

“That I know.” you turned to Jack who had taken off his cap to reveal his long curls.

“Stop hating and hand me my baby.” April immediately responded to Jack’s outstretched arms, squirming in yours in anticipation for her father.

She smiled happily when Jack put his cap on her and looked into the camera you had aimed on her.

“My beautiful girl.” you cooed, kissing her cheek before stepping back.

“Mama!” she babbled, kicking her feet and you and Jack both froze.

“What’d she say?” Jack’s mother asked from behind and you chuckled in disbelief.

“Please don’t tell me that was her first word.” Jack murmured and you swatted his chest before stooping down to her eye level.

“Did you say Mama?”

She babbled more incoherently and you let go of the hope she’d say it again, but it didn’t take away the pride. You looked up at Jack smugly who just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Next time it’ll be Daddy, so savor it.”

“Oh, I am. You can’t change her first word, Jack.”

“She’s still a daddy’s girl. Isn’t that right, April?” he lifted her in the air above his head and you stood next to Jack’s shoulder to see her smile.

The cameras went up to capture the glow of all three of you. Your hand was outstretched to tickle her belly and Jack was puckering his lips at her to make her laugh and her dimples were as deep as ever as the balloon she had an iron grip on flew behind you all.

Even though it wasn’t easy to get where you were, the Kodak moments could never reveal the stress and overwhelm you and Jack faced. While there was still a long way to go, this was enough for now. It was a perfect marker of how far you had come.

#jack harlow #fan fiction #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #bf!jack #jack harlow fanfiction #dad!jack #jack harlow fluff

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bokutosworld · 4 years ago

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setsunai | oikawa tooru

setsunai. [noun, japanese]. a complicated sadness that painfully creeps through the heart.

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

wc: 2.5k words, established relationship, falling out, purely angst. (lil bit of fluff in the flashbacks which are italicized!)

summary: oikawa knows all good things come to an end, but the both of you are not yet ready, still holding on to that string that is keeping you together.

no one really gets a warning when their relationship is on the edge of falling apart. like the first time you saw oikawa in the hallways of aoba johsai and got your breath taken away, you just woke up one day and knew.

it was the morning of his departure for the team's one-week training camp. still on the bed wrapped under the cozy covers, you heard rustling inside the room as he was opening drawers, taking clean clothes and packing them in his luggage. a scowl was on his face and he was scoffing as he rushed all over the place. you think his bad mood was possibly due to the fact that he woke up earlier than usual to go to the airport.

'what time will you be leaving on wednesday,' you ask him, voice devoid of any emotion, over dinner last week. now that he was a professional volleyball player, moments like this - seated together at the table and enjoying homecooked meals were rare - and though you were mostly used to spending not much time together, you couldn't help but get disheartened every time he told you he was leaving.

oikawa sighs, running a hand to smooth the creases on his forehead as he answers, 'fuck, i forgot about that.' he fishes his phone from his pockets and checks his schedule. 'our flight's at six-thirty in the morning.'

you nod in understanding and offer, 'want me to help pack your things in advance? how long will you be gone this time?' he seems to ease at your suggestion and reaches to bring your hands over his lips, 'i'd appreciate that a lot, babe. i'd also need you to wake me up too, wouldn't want miss it. it's only for a week, i'll be back before you know it.' he winks and you break out in comfortable laughter, something that you haven't done in a long while.

it was as if your adrenaline levels shot up as you scrambled to get up and assist oikawa. the clock read 4:25 am and you can feel his panic. seeing that he was still in his sleepwear, you moved to place your hand over his shoulder, 'go wash up and change your clothes. i'll finish here.' but he swatted you away, albeit rather harshly that your sleepiness left. he exhales and lowers his head before muttering an apology for his action and leaves you to take care of his things.

it only took 20 minutes for you to organize and gather all that he needs in the bag. you waited for him in the living room, sipping a cup of hot cocoa to calm your nerves before apologizing. mentally, you were kicking yourself for forgetting to arrange his belongings and you already knew that he was disappointed. heck he had every right to be mad at you now, but you know he was restraining himself.

when he emerges all prepped and ready to go, you stand and give his bag. his passport was in your hands, together with the tickets, just to make sure he won't lose them. oikawa grabs and places them on the pocket inside his coat and as you were about to say you were sorry, he turns and makes a beeline to the door. he walks out of the room, no goodbyes, no kisses, no see you laters. and you were struck with the scary thought if he would still return to your home.

'i miss you, tooru,' you cry out to him over the phone. oikawa laughs and mimics your voice, 'i miss you too, y/n.' he thinks that he has never been this in love before. sure, he had his fair share of flings but, as cliche as it would sound, he knows you were different. though you were a year his junior, you were the only one who gets him and was willing to standby his side - through sunshine and rainy days, through wins and losses, through sickness and health.

he remembers your nearing college graduation. 'i wish you could be here next week. i want you next to me when i receive my diploma,' he swears his heart drops at your confession. 'me too, y/n. i know how hard you've worked for that,' he smiles even though you cannot see it. the past four years of long distance relationship - oikawa being in argentina and you in japan - was definitely not easy. but somehow, it worked, thanks to the constant calls and messages sent. despite the time difference, oikawa made sure to be there for you when your thesis mates were giving you hell, to stay up with you when you were writing your papers or reviewing for exams.

'i mean it when i say that i couldn't have done it with you, tooru. you're my anchor and you've been keeping me steady in this rocky life,' you sweetly declared. 'just wait patiently, sweetheart. i'll be there before you know it.' you thought it was one of his jokes, words that he would say to put your worried mind at ease. so you were certainly not expecting to see him standing at the door of the auditorium, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, as you received your diploma on stage. as soon as the program ended, you ran up to him and oikawa braced himself for a hug. when you pulled away, oikawa immediately brought his hands to wipe your tears and said the one thing you've been waiting to hear, 'i'm home.'

you hear the door open, followed by heavy footsteps dragging its way to the living room. usually, his arrival would be accompanied by his declaration, 'y/n, i am home!', and you would drop whatever you were doing to welcome him with open arms. but today, the both of you were greeted by silence. oikawa knows you were probably working in the bedroom and as much as he missed you, he settles down on the couch and drifts off to sleep.

oikawa didn't like fights, he learned from his parents that one should never sleep on an argument which was how he found himself on your front gate and pressing the doorbell to your house. he was anxious, remembering the pained look on your face when he lashed out at you. he was well-aware that you were only looking out for him, so as soon as he said those hurtful words and saw you running away, he wanted nothing more than to fix what he has done.

'what are you doing here,' you said as soon as you opened the gate. 'go home, tooru, it's late and you shouldn't-.' oikawa pulls you to his chest, a tight hold keeping you from moving away. 'i'm sorry, babe. i don't know what took over me, but i wouldn't say those again, forgive me.' wrapping your hands around him, you release a breath you didn't know you were holding and say, 'okay.' you pull away and bring your hands to his face, squishing him and he pouts. 'i don't want you overworking yourself. you're already working hard enough, i just want to remind you to take it easy sometimes.' and as he looks deep into your eyes that night, he thinks about what he could have done in his past life to deserve someone like you.

oikawa comes to his senses when he feels a warm blanket being put over him. opening his eyes, he catches glimpse of your shadow moving in the dark and reaches out to grab your hand. feeling his touch on yours, you crouch down beside the sofa and push away the hair that has fallen over his face. 'do you need anything,' you ask. he knows he should say something, an apology, an assurance that everything was okay. but if he was being honest, the past few months has been different. the shared home which has been his safe haven has been feeling less and less of an oasis to him. the relationship, he feels, to be something he was doing out of an obligation, of a years-long promise he couldn't dare break. so he keeps quiet and you return to work.

for weeks following that night, things have never been the same. breakfasts are shared in complete utter silence, car rides when he would drop you at the office have been filled with ambient music. no more cheeky texts and random funny images popping in your inbox at random times of the day. like a plane making its descent at its destination, it seems as if your relationship has reached its breaking point and the story that you thought would have a happily-ever-after has made a turn for the worse.

after work, you make a trip to the supermarket and grab ingredients for oikawa's favorite dish. you still held hope and want to try mending things before they become truly irreparable. but that evening, he went home late. he sees you sitting on the dining room drinking the half-empty bottle of wine, the table neatly arranged with plates with his favorite food at the center. 'have you eaten? i made this for you.'

his heart aches at the sight of you, sadness glossing over your eyes and the forced smile you were wearing. he's always felt grateful whenever you would cook, knowing that it wasn't your strong suit. he always treasured moments when he could enjoy your food, however right now, he feels anything but that. 'why are you still up? i texted you i'd be home late,' he mutters, immediately making his way to clear the table. 'you shouldn't have bothered to do this.' he takes the drink you were holding, 'and stop drinking too much.'

as soon as he finishes cleaning, he walks to the bedroom but what you say makes him stop in his tracks. 'can we talk?' his mind and heart races, already knowing what you wanted to discuss. but he wasn't ready and in your intoxicated state, he thought you couldn't handle the results of the conversation. 'tomorrow morning. you're drunk tonight, nothing good would come out of it.'

however, you follow him, wrapping your hands around his wrists to make him stop. 'you're not the person i know anymore,' he hears. slowly, oikawa turns around and he sees wet tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 'why haven't you been speaking to me, tooru. these days, i see you, i think about you, but you're not my person anymore.'

there was no going out of this now, oikawa thought. like waves breaking the shore, the ending was fast approaching and he wonders if there was any way to soften the blow. so he pulls you close to him. the both of you lost in the embrace as if you were savoring the last few moments of warmth together. no one speaks and oikawa is scared that if he does, he would just break you.

'tooru,' you were now weeping. 'say something, please.'

he doesn't know where to begin. he can't bring himself to say that time wasn't on your side, that his volleyball career was taking off and it was getting hard to see you anymore. after all, he thought that being busy was just a lame excuse since the two of you made it through high school and university. how can he phrase that he thought love was enough but lately, he had nothing left to give you anymore.

'is there another person?' you ask, but oikawa was quick to say no. he cups your face, thumbs grazing over your cheeks to erase the tears. 'there is no one else.' he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath, it's just... it's not the same anymore.'

he continues, 'you are the best thing to happen in my life, y/n. i could never betray you like that.' you look at him, eyes asking the question why. 'i got selfish. in the process of improving myself and focusing in my career, i lost sight of you. i haven't been able to take care of you, to give what you deserve, to give you the world.'

'and the worst part was that i saw this coming.' he moves to sit on the couch, face hidden in his hands. 'i knew one day i'd hurt you but i still kept you around. and i am sorry.' this time, you sit beside him, turning his body to face you, 'all those years, it was my decision to stay. so please, don't give up on us now.'

'are we really doing this? are we moving in together,' you were excited, standing in the middle of the empty condo and already imagining the many memories that you and oikawa would create and cherish. he sneaks in from behind, snuggling his face to your neck. 'hmm, we are doing this. but only for a while, when we become married, i'll buy us a house.' you hum in approval, 'with backyard and pool?' oikawa chuckles and pecks your cheek, 'yes, with backyard and pool.' he twirls you around and brings your faces closer, 'your wish is my command.' you smile and close the gap, putting your lips on his to mark the important day.

was this really the finish line? in the very apartment where you made promises and envisioned a future together, is this where seven years of happiness will end? that was the agonizing thought plaguing yours and oikawa's mind right now.

'we'll only end up hating each other if we continue this,' he speaks up after minutes of eerie silence and you couldn't help but laugh dryly. he always had a strong resolve and it was ripping you apart how there was nothing to be done to make him change his mind. so you stand up, knees almost giving way at the thought of leaving him, 'alright. i'll sleep over at my cousin's then.'

he looks up at you, gaze burning deep to your soul, 'no, i'll leave.' but you push him down and snap, 'oikawa tooru, stay. i'll go, i can't bear to spend the night here. it will only break me more.' oikawa sees you to the door, though you argued that there was no need for such gesture. 'i'll go here in the morning when you're at practice to get my stuff.'

'i'm really sorry, y/n.' you shush him, smiling a bit to hide the fact that your heart was currently shredding to pieces.

you try to lighten the mood, 'i really want to get away from you right now.' oikawa chuckles along with you. 'it hurts, tooru. but i'm glad we had the chance to be together. thank you for the memories you have given me. i will continue to wish for your success. make me proud.' and with one last kiss goodbye, you walk away, leaving a piece of you with him and you wonder if things can ever get better from here.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fics #haikyuu oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #pls i dont even know why i wrote this #all i know is i wanted angst and this happened sksksks #angst dialogues are so hard i try pls forgive me

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meetmsrightxoxo · 3 years ago

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To say February was hell is an understatement. All month with work the customers were extra cranky and super entitled plus it was insanely busy every shift I worked the week of Valentine’s Day! I am also sick with an infection which caused me to spend twelve hours dealing with doctors and going to the emergency room because the stupid urgent care doctor overreacted and sent me there when all she had to do was do a vaginal exam like my primary doctor wanted her to do for me at urgent care in the first place! Ugh.

Time to get back on track with my personal, mental, emotional, and physical growth!

Ten years ago at sixteen years old, I had my first of eight major surgeries and the start of many future hospital stays and emergency room visits. Children’s Hospital Los Angeles and Henry Mayo hospital were basically my second homes. I didn’t have a specific illness causing me health problems. My body and immune system was really compromised and even confused the doctors on what could have been wrong with me. Then while dealing with my severe mysterious health issues and surgeries, I was forced to drop out of high school because the school district refused to work with me because since I “didn’t have a specific diagnosis” that couldn’t give me an IEP yet I had all these doctors notes and surgeries that required me to be hospitalized for at least six days each. At twenty years old while my health was rapidly declining my fiancé died in my house and I was the one to find him dead. I not only became sicker after that, I became a alcoholic after my fiancé’s friends blamed me for his death. I was blacked out drunk for four and a half months. It took my mom threatening to kick me out to make myself get my act together.

However, my health was still declining and the doctors were prescribing me hydromorphone every three hours for pain and was on fentanyl patches. Not only did my body become addicted to IV pain medication, I ended up becoming mentally addicted while my health was declining. In November of 2018 the night of thanksgiving, I desperately needed help to get off the pain medication addict train. The doctors wouldn’t help me get off the pain meds so I decided to quit cold turkey which was very dangerous, don’t ever just stop taking an opioid, you have to wean yourself off of it properly. My brain got so overwhelmed from the withdrawals, I fell into psychosis for three and a half months! My mom even retired from work early because the doctors told her there was a chance I was permanently mentally disabled for the rest of my life.

In case any of you don’t know what psychosis is, you know the homeless addicts you see talking to people that don’t exist on the streets? That’s an example of psychosis. Your brain’s conscious shuts down and your sub conscious basically takes over the drivers seat.

Magically one day after three and a half months of being in psychosis, my brain and my body flipped a switch and I wasn’t horribly sick anymore physically and mentally. Yes, I have to be medicated for anxiety, depression, and PTSD but I’m five million steps away from deaths doorstep now.

I have a job, I am back in school trying to get my diploma, I started this blog and developing a online store, and I’m working with non profits as a foster for animals!

Goodbye hellish February! March is going to be all about making progress working out and developing myself with my personal growth! February was only a bump in the road. Gotta stay focused and move forward!

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irondadgroupie · 3 years ago

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I’ve been suffering from depression because of my no-future life and can’t help but project my feelings to Peter and life kicking him down. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS. Do not read this if you are faint of heart. Deals with suicide.

Imagine Peter doesn’t get into MIT. Tony was certain he was a shoe-in, no doubt, he had a recommendation letter and the grades. So when he finds out about the rejection, he makes a very heated call to the admission committee and demands to know the reason. “Mr Stark, this year’s class is extremely talented. The competition was fiercer than ever. He can always reapply next year.” Tony immediately withdraws his donation to his alma mater but it is no use. As if rejection from MIT was not enough, Peter is also rejected from other schools he applied to. The boy is absolutely devastated, his social media is filled with his friends’ cheery posts and he falls into deep depression. “I worked so hard.” The boy whispers, after another day of staring at a wall. “I know you did, buddy.” Tony rubs his shoulder. He had taken time off work, he could not bear to leave Peter alone. “I aced all exams, I crushed SATs, I did all the projects, homework and I patrolled. All my life I’ve focused on school, it’s the only thing I was good at.” “You know that is not true.” “I’m a failure. I’ve wasted my life.” Ned, who got a full scholarship to Columbia, has to beg Peter to go to the prom with him, to make some memories. Four hours later, Tony gets a call from the same boy that Peter has passed out from drinking a bottle of vodka. Peter doesn’t want a graduation party. He just gets his diploma, takes the obligatory pictures and then locks himself into his room for the rest of the day, neverminding the lavish buffet Pepper has set up to celebrate. Team has a silent lunch. Peter sleeps a lot. He doesn’t go outside, doesn’t see his friends, stops patrolling and spends his days staring at a television. Tony calls his psychiatrist and Peter is called in for emergency evaluation and after two hours, he enters the Penthouse with a bottle of antidepressants. “These might make you feel a bit yucky.” Tony gives him a glass of water to wash the pills down with. “But it will clear out in about a week.” It takes about two months until they see any kind of improvement and by that time his friends have left for college. Tony hires him as his personal assistant to build up his resume but most importantly, to give him a purpose in life. And maybe the boy needed a bit of downtime after the hectic couple of years being Spiderman proved to be. Peter applies to MIT again. And is rejected. The shock is even greater this time. “I don’t get it.” The boy hyperventilates. “What did I do wrong? What am I missing? What do I lack?” MIT doesn’t have any more say in the matter, Tony can hear from their voice they are still irked of him withdrawing his money. Peter starts studying at a community college. He hates it from the first day. It’s not his place. Work is not challenging enough and the courses interest him very little. He doesn’t connect with the faculty who are all perplexed why the protege of Tony Stark is there. He drops out after a few months and makes a return as Tony’s PA. Third time’s the charm. Not this time, MIT is closed to him. “I’m done.” Peter tears the rejection letter, there are no tears in his eyes, no panic in his voice. Just emptiness. “I’m not gonna do this anymore.” “There are always other courses and schools.” “I learn more from working with you-” “You could at least get a diploma. It must be worth something.” He never thinks about the option more than fleetingly and ends up floating.He tries several jobs but nothing seems right. As Morgan grows up, Pepper starts thinking about getting Peter in on SI. Tony and her had always had the idea of letting Peter lead the company and eventually share it with Morgan. But the board resists. “He doesn’t have a college degree.” “So?” Tony attacks, thinking back to the dark days when he had to practically bribe the boy to eat something. “Degree is just a fancy paper.” “We can’t ensure someone like that to run this company.” “Excuse me but last time I checked I own lion’s share of this place! I make these decisions.” “You can’t walk over the board with this one, Stark. SI is a demanding company. Your father hired us to keep his legacy alive. I’m sure your boy is a nice young man, but he is not fit to run SI.” Tony breaks the news to Peter gently and the boy, no, a man, shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. “I knew that- or- I guessed it would happen. Parker luck. This year has been a shit show anyway.�� Tony looks at his boy, thinking of the struggles Peter had faced during the last five months: May’s cancer diagnosis, Peter’s constant money problems, a patrol that had gone so bad the boy had spent two weeks at Medbay and still had to eat strong painkillers. “Morgan is having a birthday party next week.” “I don’t have money for a present.” “You don’t need-” “It’s her birthday, she deserves a present, okay.” Peter was always defensive when it came to his finances. Tony was always ready to help but Peter rarely asked for it. Peter only gave him a chance when the man visited and saw the empty fridge, or the pile notices on his table. “I’ve been reading a lot.” “About?” “Success stories. Some make it big without college degrees. Some don’t even graduate from high school. Why didn’t it happen to me? Why did I end up with a no-end job and still have count pennies? Is it a punishment for something I did?” “No. Peter- your time will come.” “When?” Peter asks, his eyes on his father-figure. “I’m done waiting.” If Tony wasn’t worried yet, he was when it was time to pay for the food. “I’ve got this.” Tony is ready to take out his walled. “No, I’m good.” “Kiddo, let me-” “I’m 31 years old, I can pay for my own fucking meal!” Peter slams the money on the table and gets up. “I was just trying to help.” Tony tried to smooth things over. “Well don’t! I don’t need your help! Go be with your daughter and leave me alone!” “I’m thinking of mental institution.” Tony muttered to Rhodey, softly so the other guests would not pay them too much attention. “Kind of like a rehab center, where he can rest and get intensive therapy.” “Sounds good. I remember it helped you a lot.” “Yeah.” Tony nods, thinking of the few weeks he spent gathering his thoughts after Civil War. “Kind of wish I had started therapy earlier. But letter late than never, right?” Rhodey looked around the room. “Wasn’t Peter supposed to come?” “He must be running late.” Tony shrugged. “Traffic.” Hours passed and still no Peter. “Kiddo, I’m serious. Call me back.” Tony left fifth voice mail and checked Peter’s whatsapp status: online 10:11. Almost seven hours ago. Dread filled his stomach. Something was wrong. Steve offered to drive him to Peter’s apartment. Tony clutched his phone like a lifeline.He debated calling 911 but what could he say. Peter was an adult, had the right to not answer and he was not in immediate danger... right? They walked to the fifth floor. Peter did not answer the doorbell. Please don’t be there, Tony was muttering under his breath and unlocked the door. “Peter?” Him and Steve stepped in. “Kiddo?” The apartment was silent. Tony looked around the kitchen. Table was filled with bills and a new letter. An eviction notice. Tony turned white. Peter had not mentioned anything. He turned around when Steve stepped back from Peter’s bedroom. His eyes were wide and teary. “What is it?” Tony knew before the man had the chance to tell. “Don’t go in there, Tony.” “What do you mean? I have to find him.” “We-” Steve stopped him. “We need to call someone. Peter’s-” Eventhough Tony had known, maybe from the time Peter had failed to answer the first call, his heart refused to believe it. “No.” He shook his head. “No...” “Don’t-” He tore himself from Steve’s hold and opened the door to the bedroom. The room was red. Peter laid on the bed, a gun in his hand and his head- Tony screamed like he never had before. It was a guttural, raw sound. He sank to his knees, eyes locked on what was left of his child. Steve supported him, one hand rubbing his arm while with his other he called the proper authorities, Tony’s anguished cries making it almost impossible to make out any other words on the other end.

#irondad #fanfic #tw: mental health #tw: suidice #tw: depression #irondad and spiderson

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addercharmer · 3 years ago

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Izumi was holding Eri close to her body, she had pulled the little girl to her chest as they fell off Overhaul.

"It's okay, it's all over, you're such a good girl Eri." She whispered as they plummeted towards the road.

Izumi knew she wasn't going to survive the impact, even with Eri rewinding the damage that had been inflicted on her body.

Maybe even because of rewind, she could feel that her hero costume was getting loose, that she was beginning to shrink closer to Eri's size, not that she was much bigger to begin with.

Her quiet whispers to the white haired girl seemed to be doing nothing to calm her, the little girl's horn was glowing brighter and brighter. They were moments from impact when Izumi felt something slither through her, once she had confirmed that it had a hold of Eri. Izumi had one last thought before her world flashed white.

____________________

Something was poking Izumi in the cheek, it felt kind of sharp and kind of blunt, she really didn't know how to describe it.

Swatting at whatever was interrupting her nap Izumi was slightly startled by the contact with fur and a squeaking laugh.

"Ah, good you're awake." She recognized that voice.

Opening her eyes with a groan, Izumi caught sight of the being that was talking.

"Principal Nezu." She croaked at the albino stoat.

"Interesting, but I do believe it should be Nezu-sensei." The being replied to her, but there was a glint in his eye that Izumi felt she should be more worried about.

"What happened?" She asked instead of acknowledging his correction, as she snapped up to kneel in front of Nezu.

"Ah, I believe, to know that you need to answer the same question." Nezu countered.

"I was on work studies with Nighteye, we were trying to rescue Eri from Overhaul. I had just been able to knock Overhaul out with the help of Eri when we were falling. She panicked and I think her quirk…rewound me." Izumi told the stoat, she slowed down at the end of her sentence.

Her eyes widened with realization and panic. "What year is it?" She whisper-yelled, she knew that actually yelling would harm Nezu's hearing.

"Oh? It's thirty-fifteen, August third." Izumi felt her body lock up a little.

"Oh." Was all she could get out before her breathing started to pick up, her hearing went fuzzy and she could feel sweat pouring down her face and neck.

"...ild...bre…our…t...in two three four, out two three four." Izumi had no idea how long she had been panicking, but she was ever so glad that Nezu was there, his voice along with the sound of a metronome Coming from his phone was able to push through the static.

"Better?" Nezu asked her, he waited for her nod before he asked more questions. "What was the date when you were rewound? What is your name?"

"Thirty-thirty-two, April first." Izumi took a shuddering breath. "Midoriya Izumi."

Tears had started to slide down her cheeks as she looked at the stoat. "There is no way to go back, I don't know what to do." She whispered.

The hug she was pulled into surprised her just a little, she didn't know much about Nezu, but she knew that Aizawa-sensei had been wary of him.

"Midor-"

Izumi cut him off, she knew it was rude but she had never liked being 'Midoriya'. "Please sensei, just Izumi. I can't be Midoriya, I...my mother... I'm not born for another two years."

"Ah, Izumi-chan then. I don't know how much you know of me, but I would like to offer to help you. The things you know could very well end the world." Izumi nodded frantically. "When we get to my home we can speak more."

Nezu moved away from her as he spoke, Izumi missed the contact with every fiber of her being, but she stood from where she had been kneeling.

Gathering up the loose fabric of her hero suit Izumi fell into step behind the stoat, her mind was racing, the possibilities of time travel, the ramifications, the shear dumb luck of Nezu finding her.

It turned out that she had landed in the middle of the sidewalk directly in the path Nezu took to get home from U.A, maybe the universe was just trying to finally help, maybe the good karma she had was kicking in.

It only took them ten minutes to reach a lovely little bungalow, the grass was lush green and the flowers were all blooming in dark reds. The door, oddly enough, had a door in it, one was the normal size you would see in homes, the other was smaller.

Nezu turned to her with sharp eyes, it looked as if he was calculating her height and if they would need the larger door or not.

They did not, Izumi knew she was short, she had always been below average in height. Between not getting enough food growing up, and her genetics she knew she would be lucky to stand at five foot two fully grown.

Taking in the open floor plan Izumi followed the stoat deeper into his home.

The entryway quickly gave way to a sitting room, the couches were all regular sized, and a light brown suede. The coffee table stood in the middle of the room between the couches and a television. There were diplomas and paintings that lined the walls, all in all it was a lovely home.

The kitchen was separated by a half wall, it was all gleaming steel and gray counters, the cabinets were all a light wood color, it was a very masculine kitchen. Off to one side a table with three chairs was pushed against a wall, it was covered in paper, Izumi noted that the chaotic mess seemed to have a system.

Nezu had walked to a couch and seated himself, when he noticed he had her attention he waved a paw in invitation to join him.

"Start from the beginning, tell me everything you can." He directed her, she wasn't sure what he ment but she would do as she does best and overshare.

"I was born in thirty-seventeen, when I was four they told me I was quirkless, after that my mom kind of ignored that I was there, I was bullied a lot in school, told to kill myself and given scars from people using their quirks on me. I was fourteen when I met All Might, he saved me from this sludge villain, then I learnt that he was injured from a fight, he left me on a roof after telling me a quirkless person couldn't be a hero." Telling Nezu the part of All Might crushing her dreams made her breathing stutter and fresh tears gather in her eyes.

"After I had gotten off the roof and on my way back home I heard explosions from my main totmenters quirk going off, I went to see what was happening when I saw the same sludge villain attacking them. The hero's on scene weren't doing anything, they were just standing there watching as the sludge suffocated Kac-chan. I moved really without thinking, I threw my backpack at the sludges eyes, reached in and grabbed Kac-chan's collar and pulled. All Might showed up again, and captured the sludge again. The hero's that were just watching started to praise the bully for his powerful quirk, and then when they found out I was quirkless they started to berate me."

Izumi feels her face twist into a sneer at the memory, she still couldn't believe that they had the balls to get mad at her for doing their jobs.

"I got away, and on the way home again All Might stops me and offers me his quirk, One-for-All." She whispers the name of the quirk, she knows she doesn't have to, but it feels right.

"He trained me for ten months, and the day of the entrance exams he had me eat his hair, I didn't do very well collecting villain points, but I got a lot of rescue ones. I broke both arms and my leg from using the quirk. I was accepted into class one-A." The smile Izumi can feel on her lips is soft and happy, nothing like the blinding one she used to deflect people's attention.

"The first week of school was okay, no one but All Might knew that my quirk was new, and there were a lot of problems. The second week we went to the U.S.J where we were attacked by the league of villains, they almost killed sensei, they had come to kill All Might, but he wasn't there. After that the next big thing was work studies. I was with Gran Torino, we were going to Hosu, and the train was attacked by a creature named 'Nomu', a creation of the league. Torino left me on the train, but a classmate of mine was in the city and I was worried."

Izumi shivered a little at the next few memories.

"I went searching for him, I found him about to be killed by the hero killer Stain, I got involved trying to save my classmate and a hero he had dragged into getting revenge. I fought Stain and won with the help of another classmate who distracted him briefly. Endeavour took credit for it." Izumi scowls a little at the thought of the flame hero.

"Uh…" Izumi's voice cracks as she's trying to figure out if she needs to go over her work studies again.

She misses it when Nezu gets off the couch and grabs her a water bottle from the kitchen, she clues back in when she feels the cold plastic against her hands.

Taking a few deep swallows, Izumi relishes in the soothing cold.

"Next was summer camp, we were attacked again by the league, Kac-chan was kidnapped, a group from class went to go help rescue him, and stuff gets fuzzy there for a little, but I remember being terrified of the villain who started the league. All-for-One." This name she whispers in fear, she had not been told the whole story, but she could guess where One-for-All came from.

"Then we come to the work study I told you about." She finishes lamely.

Nezu hums where he's seated, he looks to be thinking, she knows high-specs is an amazing quirk, she had always been envious of the stoat.

"By the looks of your suit I would say your physical age has changed, how old would you say you are?" The question throws Izumi off a little.

"Twelve...maybe thirteen." She answers after a quick look down.

#dad nedzu #bnha #female midoriya izuku #time travel #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #principal nedzu #midoriya izuku #rewound #chapter1

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