#im tired and it was more or less stream of consciousness
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platonically-loving-alastor · 9 months ago
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In the realm of assigning Vox ADHD, I'm gonna project another thing onto him, which I think is a type of auditory processing issue- that being a struggle to understand someone if they have an especially strong accent (aka the reason im dreading going into a retail job). Considering Val is Spanish(? correct me if I'm wrong but I think it's Spanish), I think there's potential for situations like this happening every so often, especially considering his accent canonically strengthens or almost goes away entirely some moments:
*Val and Vox flirting*
Val: *asks him something in a particularly strong accent*
Vox: That's hot babe, but you know I don't understand when you speak Spanish.
Val: I wasn't speaking Spanish.
Vox:
Val: Vox, that was English.
Vox: ... Are you sure?
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savethepinecones · 1 year ago
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ive got asthma. i run across a crosswalk and i end up wheezing for a good ten minutes. i dont have much stamina or speed and my asthma limits my ability to even improve these. i have an inhaler that im supposed to use multiple times per day and another one that i use whenever my breathing gets bad.
ive had the asthma since i was a baby, but because i wasnt very active (i was more of a music kid than a sports kid), for a long time it didnt have much of an impact on my life. for a solid chunk of my childhood i more or less forgot i had it at all. sure i would get winded easily but thats normal when youre out of shape right? i never excercised so it must just be that.
in the past several years, though, its gotten worse. wildfires affected air quality in my area and i started to occasionally have trouble breathing just from being outside for too long. i finally went to a doctor and got an inhaler (i hadnt bothered to get one in years since i used it so rarely and even if i didnt my breathing would sort itself out. eventually). currently ive got one that im supposed to use multiple times a day and another that i carry with me to use if i get winded while im out and about. even with these, i still cant run much without it affecting my breathing. i dont especially enjoy running so im not too upset by the lack of it in my life but its frustrating that i cant do it on the occasion that i want or need to do so.
ive had a similar journey with my mental health. i ignored it as a kid, convinced myself everything was fine and normal, until i eventually had to admit to myself that that wasnt the case. what most people considered a brisk walk or light jog was more like running a marathon for me. i only worked parttime for years until i was able to get on antidepressants because i knew fulltime would be too much for me without them. when i did start taking meds, it was still difficult but technically possible.
i managed to keep my pace up for two years before i hit a limit i couldnt force myself to push through. whether id finished the marathon or not, i couldnt keep running. so i took a break. i sat down on a bench, drank some water, and waited for my breathing to slow as i watched others run past, going at a similar speed to what id been keeping, but barely looking winded. i knew i wouldnt be able to return to my previous pace. even once my breathing evened out, i was still exhausted. and i couldnt just will that exhaustion away. i tried anyway. once my lungs had stopped hurting, i stood up and started running again. my legs still ached and my breathing quickly worsened but i had to keep moving so i ignored as much as i could and endured the rest. i stopped several times to take a break but i didnt allow myself to sit again. this went on for maybe two weeks before my legs gave out and i had to find another bench.
since then ive been catching my breath. letting my burning limbs rest. i decided that once i was well and truly ready to start running again, i would go slow enough that i could keep a steady pace without wearing myself out. i probably wont work fulltime ever again.
ive more or less caught my breath but my legs are killing me so even though i want to keep moving, im going to go slow. im walking slowly, gradually picking up the pace while being careful not to push myself too hard. its difficult. im not used to acknowledging my limits. i spent two decades thinking that as long as i didnt collapse i was fine. i hadnt allowed myself to slow whenever my breathing became labored. my lungs would ache but i would continue on my sprint regardless. sometimes i still push myself too hard. other times i think im not running fast enough. i catch myself thinking that even if i cant run like everyone else is, i should do as much as i can. i should determine what my limit is and stay just a hair below that speed. its not comfortable, but this has never been comfortable, so what does that matter?
no, i tell myself. your comfort matters. go at whatever speed works for you. i repeat this to myself as i continue to walk. sometimes i jog a little. im surprised to find it enjoyable. ive always been too exhausted to enjoy the run. still, everyone else maintains the same speed theyve had from the start. they look at me walking and criticize me for not running seriously. some say ive had enough time to catch my breath, so i should get back to sprinting now. i tell them i dont think i should. they say im not trying hard enough.
sometimes i look at the people running past and feel guilty for not keeping pace. like ive let myself down somehow. i remind myself that this isnt a race, its more of a jogging path. im allowed to walk if i need to. people run past, scoffing at me for giving up. i havent given up, i want to tell them. im still walking. still making progress.
someone grabs my arm, pulling me forward. forcing me to match their speed. i know theyre trying to help me, but im tripping over my feet in my struggle to keep up. theyre struggling too, i can tell, but they wont allow themselves to stop or slow. you need to do better, they tell me. tiredness is no excuse. i dont know how to explain to them that i passed tired long ago. i pull my arm away. i cant keep up with you. and thats okay. no its not, they tell me. you must run like the rest of us. walking isnt even close to good enough. they run ahead. i jog for a few minutes, enjoying the run, then stop at a bench for a water break. i begin walking again. i remind myself that thats enough.
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death---dealer · 6 months ago
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The Grim Reaper. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Eleven.
the series is not done GUYS I PROMISE AND IM SO SORRY
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Title: The Grim Reaper. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications, injury, mentions of blood. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 8.5K+ ( it was previously 7.6 who the hell allowed this CHANGE ) Summary: Bargaining was always a great tool to use in the face of death. Meeting on the brink was less favorable. READ THE SERIES HERE.
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The ground was more fervently lush below your feet than you had ever experienced, letting your toes seep into the delectable grass that tickled between your toes. Such a strange and exhilarating feeling, so clean and incredibly simple but all you wanted to do was roll onto it and consume it with all your might. Crisp and cool, your body angling itself downwards so you could flush your hand against the tender landscape and like your feet that were planted, you wanted your fingers to do the same as you dug them in, getting a wonderful waft of nothing but Earth that catapulted your senses to the highest bid of Heaven that was imaginable, fathomable or even obtainable in the Human consciousness. 
Drawing yourself into a small sigh, your gaze flittered across the leafy landscape and took in the minute details of the breeze pushing itself in and out of the the conifers that lined the meadow you were so familiar with, this time being coated with a honey sensation that made it feel like it was a hot afternoon but the atmosphere was only a notch above timid and wasn’t sticky or uncomfortable to exist in.
The mild rushing of water captivated you long enough to look in the direction of the moisture that suddenly enthralled your entire being. If your mind were able to race itself to the torrent of whitened water against the shoreline, you would but it felt like you were in a dream, the way your body brought itself back up and leveraged into the space it needed to consume, the way your feet that had been so deliciously dipped into the dirt below began moving, one step at a time until they all subsequently became one languid stride. You… You had been here before, this exact moment. 
Noa… You wanted to cry upon seeing the blanketed nature of his fur, so enticing to grasp and hold onto in a desperate plea to keep you from floating off into a realm of the unknown. You had been here before, Noa… Had… His ears must have picked up on the twig that suddenly appeared below your right foot and despite already standing, it felt like you were just pushing yourself to do just that, your knees popping under your weight as you made a quickened dash towards him as he had himself situated at the embankment of the river you so often took pleasure and solace in together, deep in the trenches of acute conversations, lingering words that meant more than either party were willing to admit at the time. Yes… Yes. Yes…
Noa knew you would follow him in this moment, your lips parting as you came rounding the Ape who was crouched near the stream, his fingers dipping into the cold water and taking in notes of the way that the current felt between his fingers. “Have you felt it?”
That was your voice speaking but it didn't feel like your throat had vocalized anything as you bent down beside him, body movements not feeling like your own but you knew they were as you reached up and placed a hand against your jugular. Had you just spoken? You must have…Maybe you were just tired and things in the word you were around were sorrowed by the need to sleep in more, to pull yourself into the nest and tightly wrap yourself into the darkness of the animal pelts and rest until you felt better, until this innate sense of deja vu passed and left you feeling like a normal a whole person again.
Skin tearing itself apart on the surface as you rubbed his shoulder, his fur licking at your senses and driving them into slow and dashed overdrive, your mouth parting as if you knew what his answer was going to be because you did. You had been here before, this drip in the eternal stream that flowed so carelessly in front of you, never asking for anything in return, but always keeping blackmail in case it needed to hurt you.
 Noa only tilted his head out of the corner of your eye, feigning ignorance to your inquiry. “Felt?”
“Romantic love.”
He was going to drag himself into contemplation as he enjoyed the water, Noa always falling into that line when you and he had these conversations of Echo behavior and Echo Logic. Even now, in the dream-like state, it needed to be the same, it always was the same… Would it… Make any difference now if he knew how much you loved him? Would it make him feel any differently towards you if he knew, if you told him and laid yourself out for rejection? Would it put him in a stupor of surprise, unknown territory that you both wanted to travel together no matter the outcome because the feeling had been silently acknowledged the last few times you had met? Would Noa feel feral with want, his eyes casting their beautiful green color that rivaled even the enviest of grass right along your jugular?
The Chimp would push away anyone from you he deemed a threat, he would tear their faces off, the pit of his stomach melting into aggravated and cruel dissatisfaction in himself for never saying the words in the first place, the first time that you had met here and the first time that the question you asked was posed. Noa’s fingers dug into the palm of his hands to distract himself from the idea that you did not feel the same way giving off the impression that having you so near was unfavorable. That your scent was not what he needed, that your Echoness… Was not what he wanted.
Would it… Lifting your hand up, you were surprised at the action in itself as you could have sworn this was just a dream, this was just a moment of recollection in extreme vividness and you should not have been able to move on your own. Lightly, your hand placed itself against the side of his face, heart racing with the knowledge that Noa was able to sense it through the bottoms of his flattened feet, through the subtle motion of your pulse against your wrist. Would it make him lose control? Bite my arm, you whispered to him and let your fingers sink into the fur that bordered his face, your hand heady with intent. Bite the space between my shoulder blades, please… Take me by the hair and make me mine, Noa… Noa…
The stares that he had given you for so long, finally being returned now as Noa turned his expression towards you, unbiased and willing to let you touch him for as long as you needed as if he himself were having a hard time telling if you were living in reality or not. Your stares towards him…They were always noticed, even when you tried to play coy. Breath hitching in your throat at the pure intensity that flurried like electricity was shooting between the two of you, Noa tilted his head with a bit more passion.
We are here… You and I, the motion said. Don’t leave now... No longer stretching out silent and afraid, you brought his face inwards, your feet tethering themselves dangerously close to the embankment, feeling the shift of loose gravel under you as you felt him loosen control of his body and Noa fell into the shallow water below where your fingers had briskly touched for the first time what seemed like years ago…
How you would follow him anywhere he went, your mind floated, flushing yourself against him as your thighs tucked near the sides of his pelvic bone, body ignoring the chill as the water rushed against Noa’s back, swimming his fur artistically around him like a small boat. It was crystal clear, shallow like a small puddle. Your wet hands planted themselves firmly on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat under the pads of your fingers as you felt sheer satisfaction run wild in your nerves. His scar, the way that the fur tapered into his skin before flushing with coarseness. Bringing your lips down, you kissed it slowly, lingering and smothering to Noa who had nothing to hide anymore.  Noa knew the answer now… Noa felt he always knew the answer… “Yes.” Tell me more, you thought to yourself and mimed his action when he reached to grasp one of your thighs to keep you situated on top of him, the hand on his chest trailing downwards, through the thinned nature of his waist and taking in any crevice you were able to feel under the thickets of fur that tastefully drenched his entire body, now wet from the stream, and without a conscious of its own. Like you had played with the small pebbles the first time, you were now catering your touch to Noa himself, his conscious thought reacting to even the smallest of grazes.
Noa moved himself, reaching his free hand from your body to rest on your face, his thumb swiping right under your eye and giving the impression of faux tears when he tore that away and brought it downwards to dip at your lips. Leathery skin caressed the smoothness, tracing the delicate lines and tugging on your bottom lip to get a glimpse at your blunted teeth. 
“Have you…” That was said softer than he had meant, knowing what he was doing with his touch and having let it fester for so long, Noa wanted to take it in as slowly as possible to savor it in case it was a dream. Tongue peaked out for a moment as you licked the very tip of his thumb that lingered near your bottom lip, his eyes sharped at the sight and he raised his hips that were anchoring you to him. “Have you felt?”
A gasp exploded straight from the back of your throat at his motion, stirring you to grasp the fur near his navel in an attempt to riddle yourself of the feeling creeping around your thighs, the cloth of your pants sticking to your skin and traced with the current of water and Noa’s fur that was shuffling. Desperation ran rampant, you wanted to feel him, wanted to have him for yourself. You’d be the one to sink your teeth into Noa’s innocent neck, you’d be the one to hold him to you and protect with all your might and get him to say your name like a muffled chant.
Tracing downwards, you felt his hand at the base of your neck where your collarbones connect and instead of moving away as he would have done normally, Noa continued onwards down your white faded t-shirt and wet the fabric with enough moisture that it clung to your sunken skin to give him the faintest outline of your sternum and dip of your breasts. Breathing seemed impossible as you clutched him that much tighter, wanting nothing more than to shed your clothing, piece by terrible piece, just to feel how hot and hard he truly was against you, something that was explicit in only your dreams. You needed to touch him, hand racing itself between your legs to grasp. Just one more time. One more… One more…
One more… “Yes.”
There was a surged snap as you tore at the band around his waist without hesitation, watching as the lined twine ran with the current of the river, a sea of blue and white now encased with a piece of the Ape below you. It was not important to him any longer, both of Noa’s hands reaching up and grasping at your hips. Without hesitation as you had been when you touched his fingers the first time in the same water that was drenching you, Noa had you flipped and pushed into the sediment below, only your lower halves resting in the water now. The whiteness of your t-shirt were scorned with dirt and mud, Noa’s eyes able to see the pure outline of your chest and the pit in his stomach dropped even further than his diaphragm, closer to the primal intent and notions he had towards you that were kept under lock and key. 
Noa’s hands adjusted your frame under him before he grasped at the dirt at either side of your head to keep him leveraged, your eyes capturing the way that the mud and pebbles slipped between his thick fingers in eager anticipation as you imagined him dragging mud along your entire being, encasing you in it and in turn, when you had his way with you, it would press imprints into his fur and you’d make him yours in return. You could hear the tingling of the dirt move as he sunk his claws in, driving his hips forward against your clothed lower body. Groaning wildly at that, you hands drove themselves into his forearms, straight to the skin and seemed to bi-pass any of his fur.
“How… Did it feel?”
Mouth dry, you brought your tongue out to wet them and slid your eyes shut as Noa placed a rather rhythmic pace of breathing above you, seeking to keep himself in a ration mindspace instead of tearing you apart as he so wanted to do in the moment that he had heard that delicious growl sprout from the back of your throat.
“It feels…”
Confusing, Noa would have guessed, dropping a hand as he kept himself from crushing you with one of his hands, a true and savory testament to the fact that he was incredibly strong and only chose to use it in the moments that he felt were needed and grasped the back of your neck to keep you comfortable. That was what you had said before when this conversation first took place. Confused, to which Noa repeated it and beckoned you silently to explain.
“Amazing.”
With your head tilted back in exaltation, Noa spurred himself downwards and with the help of his hand raising your neck in conjecture, his muzzle tickled at your throat. The lines of your jugular, always so far away from him, were suddenly so close… So near… Baring his teeth, Noa’s eyes slid shut, lids fluttering in exhilaration at the taste that exploded into his mouth. So sweaty like you had been nervous to see him, so tender like the most perfectly roasted Elk, so… so carnally sweet like he’d just picked himself a mango and tore into the pulp with his sharpened canines. 
“A-Amazing…” It was your turn to repeat yourself as you arched against him, hands rising and grasping at the back of his neck to keep him smothered against him. “Noa…” He’d never heard his name so desperately said before, your mouth opening for him and only him as he intended. 
Your legs tangled themselves around his waist to keep him leveraged against you as your hands tore into the fur of his taut neck, feeling the muscles shift under your touch with intense scrutiny. There was always that budding fear in your mind that he was able to crush you with one fist. That one hand was going to cause you to die. That you… Would let him, you thought and slid your eyes shut once more as Noa’s wrought hips connected to yours once more.
Your ribs could be crushed by his weight and you’d let him, your hands spiraling down and tightly affixing themselves into his shoulder blades. His hand could hold your entire neck and in one action of pleasure, he could take you out and you’d let him, knowing that you had died under his gaze, enough satisfaction to last more than one lifetime. Feelings you didn't know the reasons behind, touches you felt should have repulsed any other Human… But Noa… A groan escaped your lips again, only this one was harsher as you felt radiating notions of agony encasing your head, following down into your lungs like you were being drowned to death by the Ape above you. “I don’t want to leave…” You whispered, feeling a few tears hit the back of your eyelids at the lingering sensation of pain that started to dull itself along your splintering hairline. “Noa, I’m not ready…” Noa… only hushed you with a small seeth, as your neck was caressed and he brought your head head upwards to the point where he was able to press his forehead against yours, tendering and sealing with a promise that this moment was not just your imagination. He had brought you here, you had brought yourself here… Your solace, your friend, your words lingering in the universe and repeating themselves over and over again.
Love doesn’t need to be understood, love just needs to be embraced. And it was, you realized with ample eyes as flashes of white began hitting your irises. Embraced and then crumbling right before you with no tools to help you clean up afterwards. A chortled cry left your lips as you tried to cling to Noa, trying to hold onto some semblance of the moment to remember it as you were being viciously taken away. You… Didn't want to leave him… Your eyes squeezed shut in adamance. You couldn’t leave him. Your fingers felt tense in the fur you had made their home, your legs falling into the crashing water below and you were unable to move them, and upon inspection as your eyes drew from the soft familiarity of Noa’s face so near your own, you were seeing red. Red from the wounds on your calves, red on your hand as you drew it up to meet your gaze, from the ricocheting wound on his shoulder.
Noa… He was completely lifeless against you suddenly, your body taking the brute force of it and you were being suffocated without reserve. “N-No…” Crying, you tried to push him off of you so you could see his face again, but it was digging itself into the ground near the bend of your neck. There was no way you were getting out, no way to help him…  “No! Don’t leave me please! Noa!”
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ Soona could not get her breathing under control, rapid and condenced against her exploding diaphragm. She had counted everyone correctly, their familiar faces all washed with the pain and devastation that now radiated clearly through the crowd as they nestled themselves in the woods, far enough from the char of the village, but close enough to still hear the tumbling of the towers as they came crashing back down to the Earth that supplied their building material. Every crackle was accounted for, every sob and furled in Ape seen by Soona’s eyes. Anaya now being tendered to by another Female Ape who had some experience with injuries, not much as Soona herself was unfamiliar with most. The Eagle Clan--- She wanted to sob, they were peaceful, never had reason to fight or defend themselves, only having minute knowledge of how to take care of bodily injury that was often sustained during fishing, hunting or riding into new territory.
This… She looked over at her Sunset brother and racked her body with a shiver of the utmost devastation, ignoring the clinging of her other brother's blood against her palm. This was beyond any of them…. He had been bitten on the head by a blunt object, falling in and out of consciousness to the point where his words were slurred, Soona wanting him to say something sarcastic or funny in retort but garnered nothing. Soona and Dar were confident he would be alright, just needing to be cared for in the meantime. 
Her green gaze looked at Anaya’s mouth, bloodied as the female with him began cleaning the iron redness away from his lips. He had… Taken an Echo life, the one of very few in the History of the Clan. She was morbid in thought, wondering what it must have felt like to kill such a threat, to succeed but could not bring herself to care anymore about that as she mentally drew on.
He… Would be alright… She told herself over and over again, looking down at the Master of the Birds himself as she had very narrowly managed to do as you had advised. Get the item out from his shoulder, a bullet you had called it.... His breathing was falling between rapid and shallow, Soona herself unsure of what that meant, either too fast or too deep. He… He had spoken nothing to her, not able to tear himself away from the nightmare Soona imagined was playing in his mind, over and over again. She couldn’t get it out of her mind, living not once, but twice through it. She knew nothing of bullets, these Echo Primal weapons that hurt with soot and explosions, not even sure what you meant until the casing came out, covered in soot and Noa’s blood, her fingers shaking as she brought it in to look at. Noa’s blood coated her fingertips, red like… Like the beginning of a sun set.It left a gaping wound there, Soona admiring the depth the projectice had gotten into him, into the dense muscles and shattering them into nothingness. Dar was pressing into it with a flooded piece of cloth, begging to her own Eagle that it was enough to stop the bleeding from a wound not inflicted from an arrow, from a spear or from a fist itself.
Glancing around at the chatter of the other Apes that were around in the woods, the dim fire light of the Clan’s demise was hard to ignore as ash began drizzling down upon then and coated their darkened fur with gray, coughs erupting as it hit inhaling lungs. Everything they… Noa, Anaya and Soona… Everything they had known was gone, soon to be blown by the wind into nothing but bitter memories remembered years from now.
The towering enclosures, so green and lush, laughter coming from every crevice  their nests of familiarity, the steps towards the Eagle Enclosure that Soona and Anaya only traversed, never allowed to actually step into the enclosure itself as they were not an Elder or Noa themselves. She could remember how the wood thickets felt under her calloused touch as she and Anaya waited for Noa’s meetings to be over, to pester him about them to see if they could get any details out of him. She knew how it felt to have the gentle breeze pulling at her fur as Anaya chewed annoyingly on a mango right in her ear. While memories are put into her mind… The places themselves remained in nothing but dank ash and wood pieces that glowed ember. Everything Noa had built since his Father’s death… Gone. The only thing that remained were the Eagles and the Apes themselves, some of the feathery companions seeking comfort with their own Masters while others were sticking themselves around on their twig legs in a desperate attempt to find them in the chaos that was still raining down on them.
Eagle Sun himself was near, perched only a few meters away and observed. The devastation ran through him at the prospect of not having another Master. How could he when he had lost Koro and now a line was drawn in the said and he might lose Noa? Soona looked over her shoulder at him, having sensed his eyes on her back as she looked at the ballet once more. Such a small object able to inflict such rancid injury… Soona’s jaw tightened - They had done the best they could with the evacuation plan that Noa had set in place, one of the first things he had done when he returned from his journey to defeat Proximus and bring his Clan home. They had done the best they could but there was still substantial loss, not just in life, but not there was a glaring hole as to what they were meant to do next? Return to the grounds of which they were raised and see the devastation for themselves? Avoid it at all cost? 
What if…--- Soona’s gaze fell down to Noa who was propped safely in his Mother’s lap, lapsing in moments of vividness of agonistic strenuous sounds coming from the back of his throat, Noa’s larg hands at his sides squeezing themselves into fists at Dar’s soft movements. His head being held so tenderly as she whispered to him, words Soona was unable to detect but no doubt they were words of encouragement to get him to wake, get him to stabilize and come back to her as she must have feared losing more than the rest of them. She tried to ignore that, her heart churning as Noa’s breathing turned languid, his ribs catching themselves on fire with every action. Dar figured that he had a few broken, in the dark of the night though, it was hard to deduce that for sure. Noa jerked - Suddenly and sharply, his entire body springing as if he had been poked directly in the middle of his foot by a sharp needle and it radiated pain throughout his entire body. Gasps were taken, hard and ragged as blood coughed out from his lungs, falling from his mouth and onto Dar who went to grasp him, to get him to lay back down.
Movement - She said calmly to her Son, it was only going to cause more problems but that didn't matter to Noa as his pupil blew eyes scattered across the scene. His heart felt like it would fall right out of his chest at that moment, trying to draw in another breath to keep himself stable but to no avail. It burned to the deepest core of him, his right shoulder exploding and yelling at him as he had moved so rapidly, the cloth that Dar had been using to help keep the injury sustained was lost in the shuffle as Noa tried to trudge himself to his feet as Soona grasped his good shoulder. “Noa! No! You---Need rest… Should not move!” She looked down desperately at Dar who raised herself to grasp her son's forearm and bring him down but he refused to love as his feet dug into the Earth below. The Clan, he could feel the redness under his eyelids from stress induced fighting. Noa felt the shift of the Earth between his toes at the longing notion that you had come to see him and come to bid him goodbye in order to save them all. 
Moving his mouth to an open position, he rested his flocked gaze on the young Apes who were clinging so desp… Desperately to their Mother’s chest as the realization finally ran up to him and knocked him back down, Noa collapsed against his Mother with a fevered growl of pain that ran down his arms, that ran through his entire body and refused to relent any of the control it had on his senses. Noa wanted to roll into Dar at that moment, telling her that he needed her embrace, he needed her wisdom… Something to tear him out of the nightmare that was too close to his heart.
Blood shot eyes looked straight at Soona, the feral unable to read them for a split second as she felt a piece of her own self died. Noa… Was not there, or he was and he was so far gone in the throes of death itself that this was going to be the last moment she’d see the green in his eyes at all. “We… Got everyone out… Anaya is here, safe.” Soona’s voice was surprisingly calm despite the severity of Noa’s glance, the Ape momentarily squeezing them shut in a plea to get her out of his head and to stop answering the questions that were running through him. Too many to process, to many to remember in the hazed wake of injuries riddling his body and the suffocation that was taking place inside of his lungs. Noa wanted to wake up again in the meadow with you, near the water and take a long hard drink of both of you. 
 He--- There was no way he was not dead, at least for a brief moment as red flashed in front of his vision and he felt his equilibrium shatter,, agony tracing itself along the back of his skull and causing his neck to feel adversely stiff. Fingers felt hurt, dirt rising and falling into his already thick fingernails, his palms having inflicted a few sharp rocks against them nothing more than a tattered mess of cuts. Face was colored red from the vicious nature of cuts along the side of his right face, one under his left eye and a deep gash that rested on his chin, engraining itself into the fur of his beard. 
There was no explanation for it, seeing you so close to him, having you hold him so tenderly at the moment where things started to go wrong, the both of you playing cards at the replay that should have been the way it went in reality. Noa reached out for it again, his hands shaking, one able to move with the use of his shoulder and the other lifeless to the drop of his fingers itself. He could not hold you even if you were here, but he’d will himself to try.
Noa--- Swore to the Eagles above, he would force himself even if it meant pulling himself through the coals. You were his and he was going to hold onto that for the rest of his life. But… For you to be there with him in that moment of tenderness, of unspoken want and attentiveness… Meant only one thing, Noa thought and tried to squeeze that out of his mind just long enough to get a proper status from Soona who had stopped speaking once she sensed that Noa wasn’t asking her to. “All…” Noa gritted his teeth together and felt Dar pressing her hand onto his head, something that even now, comforted him much like it did when he was only a young Chimp, “All destr-destroyed?”
“E-everything,” There was a loud sob behind her from one of the Chimpanzee families at the confirmation, followed by chattering as they began gossiping amongst themselves that Noa was alive but everything that had been rebuilt was dead. Dead, Noa repeated seeing your smile flash in front of his eyes. No… No. “Eagle Enclosure---” 
Noa felt words were getting stuck in the back of his throat but he needed to--- He gasped… He needed to make sure that all he had built in his Father’s name was not lost.  “All got out?” “Yes.” Soona’s voice was a cry of joy in the otherwise sullen situation.
Noa gritted his teeth again and nodded. Good. There was only one thing left he needed to ask, letting his eyes slide into Dar’s for a moment and sought intense solace in her touch on him as if she were preparing him for the worst of the news. Something she had to experience herself only a year and a half ago. “Al-All of the Echo’s?” Soona hesitated with her words, knowing it to be a loaded question even in her tired and frayed mind, “All of them?” Noa swallowed hard, regretting it the moment he set forth the action as his throat was incredibly dry and he felt the saliva lingering in his stomach like bile that began rising itself back up in anticipation of the answer, “Was---- Was.. M… My Echo… here?” Splitting his voice as it rested in a deeper baritone with the question, it was splattered with self-loathing if Noa dared suspect what he was thinking. He tried to ignore the way it felt to say, past tense. Yes… You were there, Noa had seen you with his own eyes, felt your touch and smelled your blood. You were there! For him… Kissing his forehead with your own… You were… Was… Were…Was… Soona only nodded, looking away and back towards the glow of the fire in the distance to confirm his suspicions. “Sh…” Sobbing slightly, Dar felt him shaking against him and gave Soona a warning glance. With his ribs in the state they were, they were more prone to damage if Noa moved too viciously as they could puncture his lungs or another organ. Soona looked right back at her, apologetic in her expression but she knew Noa just as well, he would not stop asking, he would not stop obsessing unless she gave him the answers to the questions he was asking with his mouth and with his mind. Better to rip this off now even though he was injured, Soona thought, and if he felt the urge to meet you wherever you had grasped him and beckoned him, then that was up to Noa himself. “Have sent two Apes to get her,” Soona explained softly, hunching in on herself and scooting towards her friend, “Could… not get close enough, the fire…” “Send me.” “Noa-” “SEND ME.” His voice ran through the entire group of Apes that were around, heightened silence following as everyone looked towards the tone of Noa. Eyes upon eyes that matched, all on him. Noa didn't care if they were. They could stare holes into him until he brought his bloodied body next to your own so he could grasp at your hair, bringing your forehead to his once more. Where you belonged, where he belonged.
“She is dead.” 
Dar said to the Ape she had her grasp on, feeling Noa stiffen more and more with each word. He didn't blink as he rose his eyes upwards towards Eagle Sun who had been intent on watching his Master’s every move with baited breath, waiting for a command, waiting for a purpose. Stagnant, Dar looked at the side of her Son’s face, so familiar to her in the moment but so far in his gaze as he stared off into nothing, repeating over and over again the three words she just spoke to him, the first three she had spoken to him. Not dead, impossible, he uttered inside of his mind. He… Noa’s mouth fell open in a silent plea. “Saw… her…” “My Son…” There was lingering assurance in Dar’s voice as she tried to display for him the power that he was going to need to overcome this, having done just that when Koro was taken from her. Nipped in the bud for her child, never coming to fruition but the pain itself was unbearable and there was nothing she knew could be done as he reached up and grabbed the forearm she had around him, so tightly that Noa felt he was going to pull the fur straight out from her skin. Dar let it sink in, holding onto him all that tighter. “I---” Harshly, Noa pulled himself away from the confines he loved so deeply and splattered himself onto the ground, straight on his face without time to even catch himself. Enjoying the sediment in his mouth as it seemed to alighten his senses, Noa lifted himself up onto his one good arm and staggered artistically to his feet, his balance unequivocal and unmatched, fire scathing through his blood. 
“I SAW HER.” Crying out, he gestured his one good arm towards the general direction of the stream from the flooded vision he had of you still seering into his retinas. Every touch lighting him on ablaze, sending skyrockets down his spine at the idea that he was about to take you as his own and you were going to let him, exaltations being breathed against Noa’s face, against his neck as you pleaded with your body. 
Take me, take me… Never once did he think about it being towards death itself, your body pleading for it to take you away. Never once, it was only meant for Noa. There was no way you were gone, Noa laughed bitterly to himself and felt his head tip backwards. No, no no… The way that your hands felt in his fur were too real, the way that your words felt to him, driving down the deepest parts of his mind. No--- Noa laughed for only a second before he drew his face into a flattened stance. You were not dead, he decided. You could not be dead witho--- Without saying goodbye to him!
 “I fe--- felt her… Touching… Water… Under…me….” Coherency was lost as Noa stumbled to find the words to say, or to even sign but nothing made sense anymore. Nothing without you… Made sense. Without reserve, Noa roared your name in hopes that you were able to hear him in the bitter darkness encased with oranges and flurrying snowflakes of ash. Noa whimpered. 
He needed you to hear him.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・
Noa had been watching you for what felt like days upon days, but that’s how it felt now when he drew his attention towards you. Things slowed down so he could start to take in the more minute details about you that he hadn’t thought about beforehand. The way that you talked to him, the way that your body held itself next to him all spoke to Noa of how you were getting more comfortable, more accepting of the Clan…Of… Of him. 
The way that the fire you were perched in front of played against your face, casting shadows along your nose and along the curves of your lips pulled his body towards your own, the shuffling of the cloak and the beating of the necklaces against his chest all amplified at how you smiled towards Soona who had give you a wave, followed by you throwing your head back in a laugh when Anaya came tumbling up to her and almost tackled her to the ground. Noa paused then to catch the pulsation of your heartbeat against the delicate nature of your neck.
The ceremony ended in success, Noa having gotten the approval he so sought from his Father, from his Mother and from the Elders. A new generation of Apes, Noa looked over at them as they chatted amongst each other about their eggs, about what their bird might look like and what temperament they might have, bonded and secured with one of the companions that would see them through life. Next ceremony for them would be the Mating prospect, something that lingered in even Noa’s mind as he was rounding that age and got consistently pestered from the Elders regarding. 
Noa listened to their praises, to his Mother as she drew him in and placed his forehead against her own, telling her son how proud she was and how proud she knew his Father would be of the Ape he had grown into. He listened, but he did not care to linger as you were like gravity itself, circling him in. He did not care to let them talk about his life and what they wanted from him as he knew you never did that. You--- Noa shuffled himself near the log you were sitting on. You were open and accepting to him it seemed, not just the Master of the Birds, not just the Leader of the Clan, but just… Noa. And something deep inside of him awakened and wanted to know why.
“Should join.” The Chimp urged, watching as you jumped. His look was apologetic as he took the seat next to you, knowing he must have scared you to garner that sort of reaction as your breathing picked up and you placed a hand against your chest, Noa captivated by that movement and how inherently Echo--- No… He corrected himself with a tilt of his head, how inherently you it was.
Feeling your heart now resting in the back of your throat and knowing no amount of swallowing was going to help, you looked up at Soona as she was adorned with a feather in a twined headdress that was tangled delicately with turquoise beads, metallic cloves and smoothed pebbled and hollowed beads. All the colors that rested in the orange and tan twine of the headdress right at the top base of her ear were brilliant, the tracing of feathers around the back of her head so enticing as it looked like a crown from a faded children's book you used to have before the pages fell out. She was beautiful, radiating with color against your eyes as the communal bonfire shone brilliantly against her fur and gave the appearance of being dipped in delicious honey.
 “Bond ceremony… Very important to the young Apes. Coming of Age. Ape… Share our feathers with each other, bond to the Eagle Clan.”
Parted lips seemed to echo his words as you were processing them, urging yourself to say something in return but you were remarked by how all of the Apes in the area were wearing similar headdresses, female and male. You drew your attention to Anaya’s. Structurally the same to Soona’s, gray, black and blue feathers lining the round of his head as he held a bundle of the feathers, freshly preened, in his fist to give to his fellow Apes.
“The ceremony was beautiful,” You complimented Noa with a soft smile, Noa himself throwing caution to the wind and listened to your praises as they meant more to him now than ever before, “I had to have Soona explain what was happening but it--- It was so beautiful, you were---”
Tapering softly, you drew your bottom lip in and chewed it viciously. When it was brought back to light and covered in your saliva, Noa felt a lick of temptation to bring his mouth down upon it. “You-you were great.”
Mentally, you felt like beating yourself at the notion that you had been conditioned your entire life to think that they were savages with no culture, no sense of self or worth outside of killing Humans. But this entire display, from the powerful stance of Noa himself as he talked to the young Apes embarking on the most important aspect of their lives, so careful and gentle as he knew how important it was, having to feel the heavy crown his Father gave him upon death as your eyes skidded towards his own adornment of feathers along his skull. More than Anaya and Soona, you noted, fluttered and soft to the touch, you wanted to reach up and drag your fingers through just to test if he’d let you that close.
From the closeness he had to you, seated, you were able to see the pull and push of his breathing, feeling it against your face as you admired the art and sacred nature of his headdress. It… Was beautiful… Noa… 
Your gaze dropped into his own for a moment, the heat of the fire you were resting near the only excuse you had for the grazing of red that catapulted against your cheeks. Noa was too. The sweeping lines of wrinkles that took over under his eyes, happy little dances downwards towards his minorly hollowed cheeks, the ajar stance his mouth had giving you the most vicious view of only his canines as you imagined them sinking into you, wondering if it felt better to just succumb than to pretend that things hadn’t been changing, the way that his fur was whitened around his mouth and under his bottom lip and got darker around the edges of his face.
You hadn’t thought it to yourself, but you supposed this was the first time that you had been this close to him in a more intimate setting, opting to keep distance on the table as a means of not getting too emotionally attached. But, it was so hard when he looked at you like that, your head tilting and pouring your eyes into his golden, green and hazeled stance that was unwavering. Noa was striking and he deserved praise, if only you were willing to be strong enough to give it.
 A screech startled you as Eagle Sun, having sensed the very conversation previously talked about, came and bid you welcome, jumping onto the ground between your legs and moving forward with a few bounces. You smiled at him, pressing a tender ‘hello’ to his beak which Noa watched with heightened interest, mild jealousy seeping at the idea that you were so willing to touch his feathery companion but always showed such reserve when you were around him. Avoiding flurried eye contact, Noa sought yours in those moments and yearned for you to return but you were not allowing yourself to do it any longer, the sensation of your heart too heavy in your chest and noticeable to Noa as he firmly had his feet planted on the ground.
“This is…” You whispered, shamefully as you drew your hand back inwards to tightly hold yourself. Feeling the feathers of the cloak that Noa was dressed in, having just commenced and finished the ceremony himself, came to rest next to you out of all people instead of taking in the celebrations with his own. You knew this behavior from him was a way of getting himself to open up to you, to learn more about the Apes so you did not fear them. 
But, somewhere along the way, the fear that you held and the animosity that always bubbled right under the surface turned into adoration and admiring. How you looked at Noa as he explained things to you that you did not understand, how you wanted him to hold your hand and drag you along with him, your fingers twitching in eagerness to hold onto his grip and never let go. Drawing your knees in, you looked down at them and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t think I should be a part of it. I’m still just a human.”
Echo, Noa whispered inside of his mouth and let his gaze flicker along the side of your face as you pretended to be interested in the fire as a means to avoid eye contact. Sure… Echo only in appearance, Noa wanted to tell you and give you reassurance but he was afraid to fall over that threshold by being too bold.
Sure, Echo only in some aspects like privacy, still a strange concept to the Ape who had walked in on you dressing once and proceeded to get yelled at. Noa only regretted it for a moment though, thinking about it now as he was able to still spot in his memories the way your flesh looked in the fire light, the urge to see it again incredibly great as he nodded in understanding. Glancing down at his hand, Noa shoved the headpiece he had for you back into the sack around his waist and instead opted to raise a blue feather from Eagle Sun himself right into your vision. 
Staring at it, almost cross-eyed, your lips parted in question but before you were able to say anything, Noa muttered to you, “Something… thing to remember… first ceremony with the Eagle Clan.” “Noa, I’m not a part of the Cla---” The Chimp was adamant, grasping your hand tightly into his own, your skin seemingly falling to pieces at this as he had never touched you with such intended force and for a second, you thought that he was going to break your hand. Swallowing lightly, you looked down at the contact that was made, Noa sensing your sudden instinct to fight and loosened up a bit before he brought the feather down into your forced open palm. “Please.” An invisible gasp left your lips at that as you only nodded silently, Noa’s hand hesitantly moving away from yours as he brought himself to his feet, knowing he needed to mingle with the other Apes and not spend his entire night dotting with you. Noa would though… Without hesitation, the thought ran rampant in his mind and for the second time that evening, your eyes met and Noa felt that same pull that dragged him over here in the first place. The scope of his entire body was laid in front of you. The swagger of his stance, so strong and sweeping with confidence that your words had brought him, his shoulder dressed with such beautiful detailing, years and generations of Apes history in every feather. You scooted your glance down to the feather in your hand and then back upwards to Noa, your expression telling him you were undeserving, you were not worthy of his kindness towards you, things should have never ended up this way. Noa looked down at you with eagerness to see you swallow the feather in your grasp as a form of acceptance.
If you accepted this… Noa’s heart raced as he brought his feet inward a bit to help you, fingers barely tickling along your knuckles to tell you to close your hand. If you accepted this, Noa could go after you. Noa could give any excuse in the book to the Elders that you were just as deserving as any other Female Ape that wanted his attention, that sought to be the future with him. His hand was hot and heady against your clammy fingers as you drew them in. Slowly, not breaking the eye contact that he was sure to keep stable with the flickering intent that was resting behind them. Silence but deathly in its grasp. “T-Thank you.” You barely managed to whisper with a choked cry, “I- N-never thought I’d… find….” Noa drew a deep breath in and held your hand tightly in his own, “Will always be a part of the Eagle Clan. You are free to do as you wish here. Find family… Friends, a life. May even find….” You rested on the contact he had with your body and swallowed lightly, “Find what?” “Mate. We all find one… Someday.”
Maybe not now, maybe we’re not ready, he told you quietly with his touch, desperate that his thoughts were getting across to you.  We’ll fly around this, we’ll find our way back to each other if we get separated, Echo and Human. I do not understand you, you do not understand me but there is something more here, something that needs to be brought to warmth and comfort to be hatched. Feathers of a bird. 
Noa smiled at you with a small huff escaping from his nose, your eyes watching his nostrils flare and settle with acute attention to how he moved, genuine for the first time and before you could say anything else to him, he was gone as you opened your hand once more and peered longingly at the feather.
Blue, special from Eagle Sun’s underwing that you enjoyed preening. Blue. You looked at the back of Noa’s head at an adjoining and matching feather. Bringing it upwards to your lips, you lightly pressed a kiss to the item and tucked it behind your ear in a silent ceremony of your own.
If he would accept you here, as you were, you’d be more than willing... You would become a part of the Eagle Clan.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ TAG LIST: @ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433
@kaenalsha  @unsteady-bitch  @whamsworld
@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1  @callsignwidow  @moonlightnyx @undecidedcookie
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risingscorchingsuns · 5 months ago
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okay okay i got one more and i'm lowkey terrified of the answer because they're so hnnnghn to me iykwim but i need your thoughts on uzusane right now
OOOHHH now THIS is a rarepair!!!!!!
definitely not a conventional relationship but tbh??? I kind of see it??????? there’s a couple ways i can see this going down depending on where the timeline is. during their hashira days, uzui would probably see Sanemi’s general… *gestures vaguely at all of him* as charming and would flirt relentlessly with him. sanemi being sanemi would be furious at first and they would have kind of a vaguely golden retriever x angry feral cat vibe??? off the top of my head I don’t quite have the words for it but i definitely see it. Sanemi wouldn’t quite know how to handle Tengen’s flashiness being directed at him and I think he’d have a hilarious combination of fury and flustered
they’re an interesting combination because of Tengen’s forwardness. When he wants someone he’s not subtle about it, whereas I think Sanemi would just get really angry at himself for being attracted to this flashy asshole. I can definitely see Tengen flirting loudly and Sanemi being furious to flustered to eventual reciprocation as he learns to trust and tbh? im kinda living for it
If Sanemi experiences romantic attraction at all, he does so like a feral dog. Scared, all teeth and claws and raised hackles at first, because he’s never known love without eventual pain. I think Tengen’s forwardness and openness about love would be really foundational for Sanemi- especially if it’s directed at him. Tengen would teach him that it’s okay to love out loud, but more importantly, it’s okay to trust in doing so, and the very act of it wont guarantee that he’ll lose it.
Post-Hashira is where this concept gets really interesting to me. They both have intense grief regarding sibling loss, and more than a little bit of personal blame to boot. Without any demons to channel their grief and anger towards, they would have to learn to lean on each other. They would become more gentle, less rough around the edges as they learn to share their burdens. Tengen would take Sanemi to the grave of his siblings, and Sanemi would tell him about his own. They would mourn the grave where Genya should be together. They both blame themselves for the deaths of their siblings, but together, they would help the other learn to carry it. Nothing can bring back Genya, or the rest of the Uzui clan. But they can share that grief now, and that makes it a little less painful.
Wow okay I can see why you’re insane about this I’m just straight stream-of-consciousness-ing my thoughts right now and im going a little bit feral the more I think about it. Holy shit this is an underrated pairing. I have no idea if my thoughts on it make any sense I am overcaffeinated and extremely tired rn, but I see your vision and you’re real for it.
I think Sanemi would get along with Makio also. His potential dynamic with the wives is very cute.
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mybatimblog · 4 months ago
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my head feels like TV static
tw venting i am overwhelmed this is mostly a stream of consciousness and makes only half sense
i need to spill things somewhere i hope it helps
sirry this is kind of like real life stuff
i do not have anxiety in the diagnostic sense but there is so much in my body right now its going to pour out of my eyes and i'm worried i will drown in it
there is too much going on and not enough sleep to function i can either take my medication be productive and not sleep until four hours before my alarm or allow sleep instead of work
i can only pretend to be someone else for so long to keep my mood up i can only pretend for so long until i run out of fuel and it does not help much to pretend to be "Sammy Lawrence" or "Remus Lupin" or "Bucky barnes" before the character's instabilities actually make it hard to feel better and then i am back and so tired
i can pretend to be one of my own characters but they are pieces of me and it doesn't help much
the dopamine it gives me to spend time with stuff i like doesn't help my brain is moving too fast i feel like im spinning
books and paper and paint are so expensive i didnt get a textbook until yesterday because it took me two weeks to make the decision about whether i should risk a virus and get it for $20 or spend 50 dollars more just to rent it digitally and as for the art supplies i need to buy special paper? and the project is due sooner than id like
and food is so expensive i have food but not REAL food and I cannot eat cereal and popcorn forever but i have dishes to do and its either a drive to the less expensive grocery store or a 20 minute walk to the more expensive one
ive been trying to start a patreon but have no time to make content for the patreon
sunlight never reaches my window and my apartment is very dark but if I open my windows to let light in, people can see me so easily. my plants will die soon. i got a new plant recently as a reward for working so hard this summer and im afraid its going to die and im afraid that if this were a book and some student were reporting on it they'd relate my plant's health to mine and how i may be slowly falling apart
putting the light on helps a lot but not when we pay for electric and i have to think about how expensive it is to exist
i have been trying to pay my water bill for days and watching every drop i use because the other day my tap was on for 4 hours while i was away from home but the water lady has not emailed me back
i make list after list after list and its the same tasks that i still have to do them all
last night i tried to watch Fresh because i started it two days ago and sebastian stan is candy for the brain and i did not finish the movie but i had to pay for my enjoyment because the next day i feel like THIS and it is a punishment for trying to relax
when you look up how to deal with anxiety everything is things i cannot do except for breathe and breathing is not helping its all "sleep better" and "eat better" and "exercise" and "plan a time to worry"
i would like to melt but i have so much work to do
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koishua · 2 years ago
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oh i love you for rbing hee angsts for me even though they leave a huge impact— yours specifically, for some reason ( im saying this again, vie, drop the secrets ) AND NO IT WASN'T JUST 'OH POOR BOY' FIC i mean maybe, yeah, sort of? but i was having a terrible terrible morning and my intention was to read a cute candle light dinner fic heeseung but who knew you had plans on lighting candles for the reader instead :/
AND THE LONG FIC. i am very intrigued actually, tell me more i think i'm ready to consume more of heeseung on the verge of insanity ( i think we're calling him that every time he's in your fic ) now that i've woken up from a power nap
no bc im trying to look at my fics and i can't find proper dialogue like where are the conversations?? my secret i think is just a crap ton streams of consciousness bye 🚶🚶reader and hee barely ever talk it's just like: here's what's happening in this poor little meow meow's heart and mind. have it, ty and goodbye!!
im sorry for catching you on a bad morning tho ngl ☹️☹️ but also pls 😭😭 that's so funny actually i only have two proper-ish hee fluffs and one's a blind date gone wrong but also right??? and another is just sleepy hee 🚶🚶
the longfic!! yes!! i deleted it and a bunch of others in my bout of fury and annoyance at my writing (more like lack of ability to write actual plot lmao) before i went on that two month writing hiatus so it's gone rip 🤭🤭 but it was something i'd been toying with for so so long like you know that one scene in fever of hee just tired and in bed?? it was inspired by that but instead of horny it was just sadness and sorrow lmao it's actually hilarious how that came to be the more i think about it
it was originally going to start off with that snippet i posted, which was the prologue and it would then spiral into these glimpses at his inability to wake up from this quiet and empty world he'd built for himself in your wake. lots of moments where i was showing him doing and feeling absolutely nothing for weeks on end and just the menial things yada yada and one day the 02z would try to unsuccessfully break his door down so they send a wellness check and whatnot and that's where his healing process began i guess.
it would be rocky and he'd constantly succumb back into his grief bc just like in "second death" he'd become so attached to reader that without them he just wasn't whole enough to function. it'd then go into flashbacks where i was showing everyone how up until then, he had only been living for you and only you. but the boys would take turns crashing at his place and taking him out to places and doing things that would slowly make him return to himself. god there was this one instance where they'd catch him dancing by himself in the candlelight and he was so out of himself that it honestly broke even my heart. they would realize that he kept seeing reader as if they were physically there as a means to cope and it was so heartbreaking i can't begin explaining it to you ugh
eventually the more he started to feel better and the less he started relying on drinking, the more sinister your ghost would become and there would be times where he'd wake up from a dream he had of something nice (other than you at long last) to your ghost just smiling eerily at him from beside his bed, telling him that he was starting to forget about you and how cruel that was of him and that was the first time the boys would ever hear him cry after your departure. the guilt would eat him up alive. logically he knows that you'd want him to be happy and move on but the part in his brain that's so self loathing just makes him see you everywhere so that he never ever forgets about you.
anyhow that's all i had written i think and revisiting it makes me SO want someone to write this out for me 😞😞
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staysafedontdie · 1 year ago
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I thought I was free of BG3, but I was not.
(sorry Im not using the real app so it's not letting me edit correctly)
So, I made another Redeemed!Durge playthrough.
While my first one was narratively and cognitively dissonant, story-wise (an unusual looking Githyanki Bard, doing serial murdering in Baldur's Gate? Brushing elbows with powerful people? And no one noticed???) I decided to chalk that up to Bhaal being incredibly cocky. He has the old man voice and is much more tired than my current PC.
My goal with this updated playthrough was two-fold:
Make the ultimate Durge - constantly underestimated, can go anywhere, no one bats an eyelash at their presence.
Get Astarion as the first and only companion and using a specific guide (https://reddit.com/r/BaldursGate3/s/visFK1mKzl - top comment), get the scenes that I initially missed. (Most of the companion scenes are tiered/have priority, I think it's a combination of specific character and approval. Most often Astarion's scenes get overwritten by Shadowheart, Lae'zel, or Gale.)
So, my new character is a Female Half-Elf Bard (Sword Bard OP), with more traditionally Elven features, tanned skin, freckles, and light brown hair with a bit of blonde from sun-bleaching. She looks like the personification of the sun. Someone who's never gone a day without.
But she's also pretty, and forgettable -which is the important part. Other than the shattered dagger throat tattoo, a scar over her lips and the dagger earrings, she's just the girl next door. And since she's slight in build, she's constantly underestimated. It made for quick work to lure people to their doom.
the WORST part is that I've been writing blurbs between playing.
I've written over /16,000/ words. On my phone. Mostly idling in game, headphones on, listening to the ambient music. Or laying in bed. It's not even edited, it's just terrible stream of consciousness stuff.
I call the story collection 'Brief Moments in Time' and one of them involves my Half-Elf, Lysithea, having a core memory unlocked when Astarion is spouting lines at her during the Tiefling Party. Turns out she not only LIKES pick up lines, but also COLLECTS them. They were very useful for luring people to their deaths - like a less sexy version of what Astarion used to do for Cazador.
Here's the little memory flashback I have for her. The ending lines are meant to invoke that moment with the dying Mind Flayer you find at the crash site in Act 1. (Compassion??)
-----
The settings are vague, but the bustling environment must be a local tavern. She’s sipping ale quietly from a table that has a strategic vantage point. The occasional scratching of a quill in a book accompanies her gaze, making sure to take notes on would be targets.
But just over by the bar, she hears a drunken man say a fun pick-up line a little too loudly. Like Astarion she used whatever means she had to lure people away to their doom, and she pays attention to the honeyed words to try and see if they’ll be of some use to her.
“Are you a Gelatinous Cube? Because I feel like this encounter is going to end up with me inside you.”
Past the rage and the darkness that consume her, there’s a small bubble of… joy.
Joy?
-----
And then she spends the next little bit spouting lines at Astarion, which he rather likes because she calls him beautiful. And it's nice to be on the receiving end of such attention every now and again.
She's also aware the entire time he's using her, but doesn't care. She's got no sense of who she is, beyond a few small things, so she's using him as well for companionship and to help curb the urge and build new memories. After all, they're a lot alike.
UGH I JUST CANT STOP WRITING LITTLE GARBAGE THINGS ALL THE TIME. I HAVE BEEN CONSUMED. NOTHING REMAINS BUT BG3. please help me 😭
BUT!!
...In the future I want to do a Wyll run where I romance Karlach because I heard he goes with her at the end to Avernus anyway and they're so sweet to each other 🥹
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rodentflesh · 1 month ago
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huge consciousness stream under the cut have fun
i’m really into the band health. don’t talk about that enough. fuck, i love health. i’ve got a fucking, health brand condom, am i ever gonna use it no of course not. actually i have 2. saving my life rn, whenever i don’t know what to play i just put on health.
i love music, i love it so much. been forced to engage with it from a young age. you know piano and then clarinet etc etc hey did you know i can play the bassoon. but now i’m thankful for it. one of the few things that connect me to humanity. always seeking connection and understanding.
i get it with music. like i enjoy it the same way everyone else does.
i don’t understand people! i feel so alien i hate it but holy fuck everyone feels like a different species. why do people matter to other people. like, strongly. like, i understand that people matter to people but ngl i don’t GET it.
people texting me telling me if i need a place to stay cuz of the US election results. cuz i moved from a safe state to a less safe one a couple years ago. i understand why they are doing it logically. i don’t understand why they do it emotionally.
i hate my complicated relationship with my emotions or my lack(ish?) thereof
also i fucking hate that people like me i hate being likeable i know it’s because i do a good fucking job at this human being shit but i’m so tired and also it makes me anxious as hell
i wanna go back to when i didn’t have social skills. but back then i hadn’t figured out how to overpower my anxiety oh yeah crazy how i do have really bad anxiety. always forget i’m diagnosed with GAD. like my friends managed to help me figure out the weird impending feelings of doom i get that won’t go away are anxiety attacks. but unfortunately for my anxiety im a huge baller. and also wellbutrin may be carrying me a little bit i wont lie. but yeah i figured out anxiety is just a feeling, most of the time now i overpower it
i like my friends, i think. what i like in people is their minds. i like studying people i like understanding people. i’m obsessed with emotion i think. i’m obsessed with human emotion. i like my friends because they are really interesting. they never bore me, always something more with them. always bored. always bored. why does boredom hurt. it hurts. hate that.
seeking evidence that i am the same species. sun is coming up now. i like that. feels good. same experience so many humans have felt. but it feels like there’s so much evidence against it. reprimanded as a child for not caring about death. of pets. or of people. told i didn’t cry enough. but whenever i cried for myself because life fucking hurt, i was told i was being manipulative. what the actual hell i was like. i dont fucking know 4 until 11 when they sent me to the psychiatrist and i actually got diagnosed LMAO talk about self projection 💀 girl i was just in pain like my permanent mental state of being is this shit is uncomfortable
i want my head to stop i wanna sleep but im wired as FUCK
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icannotgetoverbirds · 2 years ago
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Again, stream of consciousness. Apparently I have a lot to say right now. Also, coffee and proper medicated-ness fuels creativity. Who knew?
Subsequent, Consequent, Content?
college costs much more than me more than it ever has in history at least i think, im never sure Probability's so rarely pure
the walls melt and it's okay i've still got so much to say little built-in tripping can't keep me from another rant
wanna learn and grow and bring new knowledge, ideas, everything but i can't brush my own damn teeth my capability's just beneath
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
I think it all started in grade five S’pposed to be easy enough, being alive At least then my needs were met Even if school was a losing bet
I tried and fought and nearly wiped on out Like some parasite, came the doubt If I can’t do this, I’ll never make it But i just can’t, i just can’t take it
It was supposed to get better then But apparently by year ten Neurotransmission machine is broken No wonder i’d wanted sleep unwoken
You didn’t take it too well, of course Mr. I’m healthy as a horse Hey man, horses are real fucked up I think you just got broke shit and luck (yup)
My rock stayed stable back then Despite everything and even when ...Eeeeh, y’know? Of course, who doesn’t? Kids these days got a dime a dozen*
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
The world is ending, ours and mine And i keep stepping out of line How i manage that when i can’t walk What i'm told and what i talk
Well that’s all beyond me, i guess I’ve always just done my best Hate to say it’s insufficient I’m trying to be more efficient
So now I’m out and on my own, Some call me baby, some call me grown I got dreams either way Given my needs, who’s to say
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
I’m tired, man, aren’t we all Everybody’s behind the ball Or in front, about to be rolled over Better hope you don’t get pulled over
God can’t help us, your god won’t And don’t act like he will, just plain don’t It’s our fucking job to fix this shit And I can’t believe someone had to say it
Quit waiting around for god to listen Quit waiting around for heaven’s glisten You worship death with unproven afterlife And don’t bother trying to make better this life
Jesus fuck, good lord, oh god, And whatever else to not nod Along to that monster’s preachers We’re people, man. We’re just creatures.
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
Entitled generation, let’s go with that I don’t mind wearing that tired hat Just know we know what we deserve Y’all ain’t once protect and serve
At least we’re kind to the ones that serve us At least we know the value of service At least we ask for our money’s worth You know, what you’ve had, like, since birth?
I’m sick and tired of right-wing asshats Nazi salutes and red slogan maga hats History is repeating, you’re failing the test It’s open, note, my guy, is this really your best?
And yeah, some people are a little soft Aren’t you, too, up in your loft? Going on about how much it peeves you, endless That people exist, till you’ve left yourself breathless
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
The kids before us, they had hopes But you never bothered to show them the ropes Now we see what’s really occurring The world’s collapsing, we’ve been inferring
Every little girl wants to be a princess Then I realized I’d have to settle for less Vet seemed too far off in addition I didn’t have the money, despite my volition
So writer, then editor, then anything at all So long as it pays, I’ll answer the call My dreams seemed excessive, I needed to be alive How are you supposed to do anything but survive
Of course, even then, it couldn’t be that easy The wind’s picking up, it’s getting pretty breezy My body, my mind, my heart, my soul Keep acting up, despite the pull
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
So now, here we are, hopeless and helpless Unless you get off of your ass and start to help us** You made this mess, you need to help clean it It’s no way to live, knee-high in bullshit
The people that need to hear this just won’t They totally could if they chose, they don’t I should know, it’s the way I used to be I look at them, I see a past version of me
Listen, I’ve been there, done that song and dance But damn it, for once, will you try to take a chance? Listen to something that isn’t Fox or trump Pull your head out of your own fucking rump
I think what I have should be good enough I think I’m tired of being tough I think everyone deserves better than this I think monsoon season was wetter than this
~~
*this is not a dig at 'kids these days'
**the you is directed at the people who made this mess in the first place and the people who have the means to but do not change things for the better. people who care but feel too trapped to do something are okay, and people who are doing literally anything at all? lightspeed, soldiers. lightspeed.
**Edit: the first you is actually directed at my piece of shit father, the you's from the double asterisks on is as previously stated. deadass forgot there was another you in there lmao
it takes a village
tbh this could be put to music, if someone wants to then maybe I'll sing it, but apparently im not half-bad at writing songs so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Wildfire
the dragon beast burned our shit i grabbed on and didn't let go you and me, we fought against it until it was no more
and oh we were so tired exhausted, wiped out, just done and i think about how im wired wasn't this supposed to be fun?
so tell me, my dear love why oh why is it happening again raining from the maw above and what did we do then?
I said, well maybe, it's time for a burn Maybe there's a better way, maybe we need to learn You said 'you're on your own, kid, and this is your fault, so" hum idk
Chorus:
Get it together, man Get outta this house Pull your head from the sand Practice what you espouse
Maybe you need some help Ain't that what family is for Too bad they won't scruff this whelp Cause they're just too damn poor
End chorus
So you worked and worked and worked and I rested i guess way too much "Dontcha know god's labor's never shirked? You should be doing as such"
Beholden to no god except each other Beholden to the safety of my mother What do you do when home's not home What do you do when you're alone?
Chorus:
Get it together, man Get outta this house Pull your head from the sand See what you espouse
Maybe you need some help Ain't that what family is for Too bad they won't carry this whelp Cause they're just too damn poor
End chorus
So home was a house again Never to return, I hope I went through some real shit then God, what a tired trope
Traffic's no place to play, you know Better than that sad place, though I saw the mountains, close enough To walk up to them, sure it'd be tough
bridge:
It'd be worth it It's all been worth it This world wants me dead the people want me alive it's just like i said i can't work a nine to five (right now i hate being right)
new chorus:
I got something going, man I'm outta house My head's a bit fogged and well, at least there's no louse
I'm getting some good help Aint that what family is for The world's gotta carry this old whelp Now that he's damn poor
end chorus and song(?)
anyways maybe i could add more to the end of it but it already feels pretty long. could also do some editing in general but here y'all go lmao
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songsforchristmas · 2 years ago
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got more than nothing done today but was still less than i hoped :/ not tired but im not gonna be able to focus on anything so to do for tomorrow (rotating so i dont get too burnt out). stream of consciousness the neaera paper until i hit 1500 words, annotate readings for the spanish paper and start outlining it MAYBE start drafting if i get there, do the calc makeup assignments in hopes that it'll actually teach me how integrals work Also i need to do laundry
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feralseraph · 4 years ago
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some thoughts while reflecting on suicidal ideation. just heads up this is really really long lol and i don’t expect anyone to read it i’ve just been jouranling a lot and i decided it was normal and reasonable to share these kinds of thoughts with 2k strangers on tumblr.
btw im fine i prommy im just like venting basically. and pls don’t reblog this it’s embarrassing stream of consciousness crazy talk <3
in the moment when you’re spiraling and feeling completely helpless you can only feel sad. after that moment has passed, it feels like “wow that was fucking dramatic”. it’s like being angry at yourself for thinking that somehow you’re too special to suffer along with everyone else. 
a lot of people don’t have it easy. so many people struggle their entire lives why should i be any different? do i think im better than other people?
i just want to tell myself to suck it up. it never works though, inevitably there’s another spiral and im stuck feeling like the saddest little weenie on the whole planet.
suicidal thoughts can seem irrational but it never feels that way in the moment. especially when you’ve dealt with it for so long. half of me tells myself im being stupid and it’s such first world problems but the other half of me is like, it’s always been this way there’s no other way to be.
the annoying thing about suicidal thoughts is that there’s always a little spark of hope. there’s always that devil/angel thing going on where you convince yourself life is meaningless and hopeless and there’s no point in staying but then you’re like well what if this happens and that makes it a little more bearable. for years i would just pray that the dumb little hope spark would just die out already but it hasn’t and it probably won’t no matter how much i’ve convinced myself there’s no point in anything. 
it’s human nature to want to survive. your body tries to keep you alive whenever you’re hurt. if you’re bleeding or suffocating or otherwise seriously injured your body is fighting to keep you alive even when you don’t want it to. could you imagine if your body didn’t try to stay alive? like if you got anything worse than a paper cut and you just endlessly bled?
not trying to make it religious. you can if you want, but i don’t really have that belief. what creature doesn’t try to keep itself alive? plants will regrow if a deer nibbles them too much. so yeah if you get hurt your body is gonna try to heal that hurt.
suicide. self harm. trauma. are all hard things to talk about and to hear about. well, everyone always wants the gruesome details but hearing about the thought behind it is way less interesting. 
because it sounds really simple that well, people who hurt themselves or who talk about dying are experiencing [quote from the DSM] and yeah but that also makes it seem like they’re being irrational
when you’re really thinking that life isn’t worth living it feels completely rational. you’ve thought of every avenue of trying to live and none of it seems worthwhile and you’re also just fucking tired. it doesn’t seem worth the effort. 
life can be really long or it can end unexpectedly. imagining a long life and sometimes you can only see how everything will continue going wrong forever. it’s  not just being pessimistic sometimes it’s seeing a pattern in your life where things keep falling apart. sometimes it’s seeing the world around you and feeling like you don’t want to be part of the insanity anymore. and no amount of hand drawn comics with fuzzy blue kittens or memes about all the sunrises you’ll miss can make you feel differently. who cares about the sunrise when you hate waking up everyday? who cares about the sunset when you have nightmares all night?
not saying that there’s no way to help people who are suicidal but that maybe the same approach doesn’t work for everyone. there doesn’t always have to be an approach of trying to find a solution to every concern they have. sometimes if you just let people talk it helps just to say it.
because it feels crazy. you feel like an insane person because who the hell wants to die? who’s that dramatic? at least that’s how it can feel. it’s really alienating and isolating to feel like you can never be honest with anyone because they’ll never see you the same way again. suddenly you’re a fragile little egg and they have to “check in” on you to make sure you haven’t finally cracked. i think it’s possible to keep people safe without making them feel like they’re under a microscope. 
obviously it’s hard to listen to someone talk about really heavy stuff and i wouldn’t expect people to always be down for that. sometimes it just helps to know that someone out there even knows that you’re struggling. because it feels so shitty to keep it all inside and maybe you don’t want to talk about it all the time. 
it’s not about making your friend group your personal crisis counselors. it always goes back to the idea that it’s not really acceptable to openly talk about struggling and that should change.  
it’s a tragedy when anyone feels like they can’t take another day in the world. there are so many things that need to change in order to support people who feel that way because it isn’t always just linked to mental health alone. things like poverty or ongoing abuse can exacerbate it. 
people really love true crime. they love hearing ghastly details of abuse and murder. but people can’t face the fallout from things like that. the people left behind after the case is closed who are traumatized. people like to satisfy their morbid curiosity but there’s real people on the other end of that. 
there’s no satisfying way to end a conversation about suicide. at least for me idk in the back of my head i’ll probably always feel like life is an opt out kind of experience even if i manage to find ways to make existence bearable. there’s never a perfect answer for everything.
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atlaslimbs · 5 years ago
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March 26, 2020
    Maybe I should start using this platform for something productive. Not that my usual activity of sharing pretty things can’t be meaningful. I do believe looking at and sharing things pleasing to my eyes is something important for me to remain hopeful (especially after being flooded with all kinds of not to nice images lately.) I want to take the time to talk on here and express myself in a way that is loose and not pretty. Sort of a stream of consciousness style of journal entries. I have tried journaling regularly so many times. Every time I would try to do this style of stream of consciousness free writing with a pen and journal I would eventually give up because I would have too much to say and my hand would get tired or i would get too caught up in what my handwriting looked like as silly as that sounds. Recently I even tried this thing where as i was driving to school or work I would record myself talking out loud as a means of journaling. That didn’t work either because I wanted to refer back to them to see what I had said but could not stand to hear the sound of my own voice long enough to meditate on any of the words. So here I go bouncing it back to Tumblr typing away on my computer trying to quiet down all of these thoughts swirling through my head all of the time. I am not sure why I am not doing them in a word document that is private... I guess there is something to be said about the vulnerability of putting it all out there to where anyone could find or read these things. I would like to think I am a very open person but even as I am typing this into I feel myself wondering who is going to read this. I know a few people that I do know might read these, however the four or five friends and a couple ex lovers that have my account are ones I wouldn’t mind hearing the inside of my head anyways. 
    I guess I should set the scene here as if no one reading this knows anything about me at all so that I don’t get started from a place where I think there are already preconceived notions of myself that I must adhere to. Who knows, maybe the journal entries of a young person in 2020 might be useful one day. I sure have a lot of things to say that I feel like someone might want to listen to. My name is Sydney and I am twenty years old. I am going to be turning twenty one in April and was looking forward to having a fun outdoor party with all of the people I love there around me. For now we are going to have to celebrate from far away because of the recent stuff going on with the Corona Virus. We are being instructed to stay inside and away from people as much as possible. I feel like I will eventually get into a rant about the politics to all of this and my political beliefs in general but for now I just want to set the scene for anyone reading this. I am sitting on my porch watching cars drive by me. I cant help but think why are all these people still out? People seem to be acting like everything is okay which is just going to prolong all of this and cause more deaths in the end. God if you told me that this wasn’t fiction I wouldn’t have believed you last year. Wow last year me would be so terrified. Today me is terrified... But I am finding strength every day through managing my anxiety and trying to convince myself that I am prepared. Back to what I was saying, I am sitting on my porch listening to a playlist of my “top songs of 2019.” Each song takes me back to a certain feeling whether it be driving to school or screaming the songs out in my shower. I want to just say on record I LOVE TO SING. It is something in my life that I have always enjoyed. I have been singing more lately which feels so nice. My dad is a singer he sings in a band with some friends and they play at bars here and there locally. I just had the heart wrenching feeling of realizing that I may not be able to hear my dads band play for a very long time if ever again. I am thankful for all of the videos I have taken though that I can always refer back to if that is the case. I don’t tell many people that I love to sing because people tend to think that in order for you to love to sing you have to be good at it. Or at least people in our culture which sucks. If you think about it, all of our religions have some sort of exchange of energy with the highest power through singing. That has to mean something. When I am singing I feel like I am letting the songs feel for me instead of feeling them vulnerable all alone by myself. Even if the emotion is not one that is hard to feel it still is just so comfortable to experience it wrapped in a protective layer of a song. Some of my happiest memories are singing in the car with my dad. He never once has told me that he doesn’t like the way I sound or that I am singing too loud. I think that I really have got to start now on rebuilding a lot of the confidence that was torn away from me at a young age being around a couple of really toxic and sad family members. I remember wanting to sing along to the songs on the radio and them saying things like “Sydney we get it you know every word to the songs you don’t have to prove it” or “Sydney why are you singing so loud like you think everyone wants to hear you.” Thinking back on that and wanting to protect that small innocent version of myself I want to say to them “Have you guys never enjoyed anything in your entire life? Does anything ever FEEL GOOD to you?” I become more and more aware every day of how a lot of the time I suppressed doing things that brought me joy because I was afraid of them making fun of me for it or being “annoying.” Whoever made that word up sucks because it has been in my thoughts suppressing me ever since I was first called it. Note to self: don’t under any circumstances call someone annoying because wow that shit hurts. I want to talk about something one of my friends said but I feel like if I am going to introduce that person into the narrative I want to tell you all about her from the beginning. I wish I didn’t feel the need to be so thorough all the time but recently a friend told me that they love that quality about me so I suppose I will give myself some slack. If I were to get real deep and try to figure out why I do that I think I would have to link a lot of it back to being young and the toxic family members I mentioned before questioning everything I said to the point where I felt like I had to prove absolutely everything I said. So instead of simply being able to say “The other day someone who’s very important to me and one of my closest companions said...” my brain tells me that you aren’t going to believe how important she is to me if I don’t describe every detail of our relationship and portray it as beautifully as I have felt it so instead I have to divert and go on a tangent about that person before getting back to this story. I can see how that would annoy someone who didn’t care to know about the things I love, but luckily the silver lining to all of that is, being this way has showed me who cares enough to listen to me for hours regardless of what I am talking about. If you told that young version of Sydney who got brushed off every time she got excited about anything or told she talked too much that one day she would meet people who would make her feel like every word that was coming out of her mouth was worth listening to I don’t think she would believe you. Things like this are thoughts I have that restore every bit of hope I have in my body. Knowing that in the short time of being alive and away from my family I have found more love than I ever thought could exist in my reality really keeps me going every day. 
    Wow I am thinking so many things right now and want to tell so many stories. There is one person in particular that I keep thinking about when it comes to not only the listening to me talk thing but also about my love for singing. My dad is not the only person who has made me feel safe screaming music in the car and I am thinking about all of those people now. My brain automatically wants to use words like “tolerate” even though that is such a negative connotation when I’m sure they don’t feel that way about it at all. This person I am thinking about who would listen to me talk for hours or sing with me in the car is a very special person to me. She is honestly probably the only person who is going to read this at all much less to the end. I don’t know if I will ever be able to repay this person for the amount of love she brought into my life. I want to make a whole post describing all of our memories together but im not sure what format to put them in. Maybe I should tell them like a story. People always tell me I should write a book. I am going to end this here and maybe write out some topics I want to talk about more thoroughly and cohesively so that I can document them here. I would love to talk about all of my memories from certain time periods before they leave my head forever. That is a big fear of mine. I want to tell you about all of my first loves and all of the times I have felt love at all and all of the art I have experienced and everything. Thank you for reading this if you do. And thank you for loving me if you have because I am learning how to love myself and it helps so much to have people who show me ways. 
Maybe if you read this like it so I know. 
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rohad93 · 5 years ago
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Bellow Diamond Week 2019: A work in Progress: Day 3 - Ball/Party
You can read these on AO3 under the fic name: A work in Progress
this is the only day of the week that doesn’t fit with the other 6.(human Au) 
~
The quiet rumble of the engine was the only sound in the car besides Amrin ‘Blue’ Diamond’s tapping finger on the steering wheel and her wife’s drunken grumblings. Gel ‘Yellow’ Diamond sat slumped in the passenger seat with an arm thrown over her face and mumbling nonsense.
Nonsense that was getting on her wife’s nerves. What was left of them.
The first Friday night they had been able to go out alone together in ages and Yellow had to get plastered half way through the evening. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so embarrassed as she’d been tonight as she dragged her drunk wife out of the party as inconspicuously as she could.
Which wasn’t very. Her normally reserved and stoic wife was a loud drunk.
On some level she felt partially responsible.
Yellow had been very clear before they ever left the house just how bad her day at the office had been when she tried to get out of going to the party. Her mother, Bianca, had been particularly derisive about some accounts they had lost in the last quarter and an employee had come into her office and quit while telling the CFO that she was a ‘clod’ and to top it off no less than two meetings had been missed, misscheduled by her personal assistant.
Yellow had looked weary and Blue knew first hand how… trying… her mother-in-law, among other things, could be, but their precious Rosa ‘Pink’, was staying with a friend for the night and this party had seemed like a good opportunity for them to go out without their fourteen year old and then have the house all to themselves for the evening.
Glancing over at her wife, who now had her face pressed against the cool car window, her plans for them to be alone this evening were effectively dead.
She now deeply regretted telling her wife to have a drink when they had arrived. One had eventually become two, then four, and then eight and before she knew it Yellow was staggering around, doing her best to appear coherent among the large group of people.
The most surprising part was that Yellow was not usually much of a drinker. In eighteen years of marriage Blue could count on one hand the amount of times Yellow had been drunk. Which made this evening that much more surprising and aggravating.
She turned onto their street, grumbling to herself. Of all the nights Yellow had to get sloshed it had to be this one. At least Rosa wasn’t home to see. That would just have been icing on the cake that was this evening.
She pulled into their driveway with a slight jerk that may or may not have been on purpose as Yellow was jerked forward in her seat.
"Wha… where are we?" She slurred, looking around with glazed eyes.
"Home, Yellow." Blue said sourly as she unclipped her seat belt and pulled the keys out of the ignition.
Yellow tried to climb out but choked as she was flung back by the still fastened seat belt.
Blue watched her struggle with the belt for a few seconds before reaching over and freeing her spouse with a tired sigh.
"Stupid, fuckin’ straps…" Yellow grumbled as she hurled open the car door and flung herself out of the car and promptly fell into the bushes that lined their driveway on the right side between their and the Universe's house.
“Yellow!” Blue climbed out of the car.
It just so happened that Greg was sitting on his porch strumming his guitar when they pulled up. he looked up to wave just in time to see his usually aloof neighbor fly into the bushes. He jumped up.
"Whoa! Are you okay?" He hurried across the yard to where Yellow was flailing and cursing loudly in the hedges.
Blue hurried around from the other side.
"She'll be fine." Blue assured the retired musician as she grabbed one of Yellow’s arms and helped heave her out of the vegetation with Gregs help.
"What happened to her?" He grunted, hoisting Yellow out of the plants.
"About nine scotches." Blue huffed, pulling Yellow's arm over her shoulders and wrapping her other arm around her waist.
"Im fiiiiine." Yellow drawled even as she clung to Blue’s long sapphire dress. Her own lemon colored button up shirt was coming loose from its place tucked into her black slacks.
“No, you aren’t.” Blue deadpanned, forcing Yellow to walk with her to their front door.
“You need help?” Greg called to Blue.
“No, I have her. Thank you, Greg.” She called, hauling Yellow with her onto the porch and managing to get the front door unlocked without dropping the swaying drunk woman.
With a sigh she kicked the front door closed and flicked on the lights just as Yellow broke free and stumbled toward the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Blue called, setting down her purse. Something incoherent was half mumbled half shouted back that sounded suspiciously like ‘hungry’ Blue just rolled her eyes, glad they were home finally. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the parlor.
It was only 9:45.
They’d been at the party maybe an hour and a half before she realized that the loud voice she kept hearing over the crowd of people had been Yellow’s as she loudly argued with another guest about some nonsense.
She shook her head, still more than a little angry. She ignored the sound of someone rummaging through the fridge and went upstairs.
She grumbled under her breath as she sat on their bed and pulled off her heels and her jewelry. All except the silver band with the square cut solitaire yellow diamond. No matter how angry she was at Yellow, the ring only came off when absolutely necessary.
Yellow would have a lot of making up to do, that was for sure. Who knew when they would have another night alone again! She’d been looking forward to this night for a week.
With a sigh she slipped out of her dress and carefully hung up the long silk material before she pulled on her favorite nightgown and her old, fuzzy blue robe before padding barefoot into their bathroom, she frowned at herself in the mirror as she tied up her long white hair in a messy bun on top of her head and set about her nightly routine of taking off her makeup and applying a thick green face mask.
A process that took maybe fifteen minutes, by the end of which there was a loud thumping on the stairs and Blue was immediately worried her drunken wife had fallen. She hurried out of the bathroom just in time to see Yellow flop unceremoniously onto their bed, face down with a groan.
With a sigh she walked over and rolled the blonde on her side so she wouldn’t suffocate. Her eyes were closed but she was mumbling something. Glancing down she took notice that Yellow had taken her shoes off… somewhere.
Her shirt had finished coming untucked and was a rumpled mess. She must have gotten into something in the fridge because there was some kind of stain on the front that hadn’t been there before. Ketchup maybe?
With a certainly not amused snort she took notice of a few leaves and a twig caught in her thick blonde hair, no doubt from when she tumbled into the hedges. She plucked them from the normally perfect strands, setting them on the nightstand and started pulling at the buttons of Yellow’s shirt. It was still early but it was definitely time for her to go to bed.
Amber colored eyes blinked open groggily and unfocused before widening and jolting away.
“Stop!” It sounded like the blondes mouth was full of cotton.
Blue jumped at the sudden movement and yell as Yellow floundered trying to roll away.
“What, What’s wrong?”
“I can’t!” Was the thickly slurred reply as she tried to sit up and put space between them.
“Can’t what?” She asked the drunken woman who was shaking her head. “Just let me help you get your clothes off…” She sighed, moving to undo the rest of the buttons but Yellow jerked away, nearly rolling off the bed in a panic.
“No! I… I’m married.” She held up her right hand before realizing there was nothing there and holding up her left instead and pointing frantically to the gold band inlaid with a single blue diamond. Blue blinked at the wedding band owlishly.
“Yellow, what are you…..” She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror hanging on the other side of the bed and realized her stupidly drunk wife didn’t recognize her with her hair up and the face mask on.
Blue couldn’t help the sly smile now blooming across her face.
“You’re married huh?” She questioned, to which Yellow nodded vehmanantley. “Well we don’t have to tell her…” She purred and inched close on her hands and knees and It took all Blue had not to break into hysterics at the horrified look on her wife's face as she came closer.
“No...!” she scooted back and fell off the bed, her back hitting the carpeted floor with a muted thump. Blue looked down at her with a grin.
“Only… only, Blue” She mumbled, holding her arm out to keep Blue at bay even from the floor. .
Blue sighed, a smile pulling at her lips. She walked back into the bathroom and washed away the mask and pulled out the tie holding up her hair before walking back out into their bedroom where Yellow was pulling herself off the floor in a stupor. She looked up as Blue approached and even with her glazed eyes she could see the recognition in them now.
“Where’d she go?” Was the the gurgled question, hazy eyes looking around.
“Gone. Now will you let me help you get undressed, darling?” She asked and couldn't help the chuckle as Yellow gave a lazy nod and let her finish helping her get off her clothes and tucked under the blankets.
Ten minutes later she was out.
“I’m still mad at you…” Blue said to her sleeping wife before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her blonde head. “But I love you...”
~
Yellow squeezed her eyes shut against the bright light streaming into their bedroom as she slowly came into consciousness.
'Make it stop…' She thought over the pounding in her head. She reached out a hand, feeling the other side of the bed was empty. She squinted one eye open, looking around at the empty bedroom.
She laid there for several moments as she tried to force her groggy brain to collect her memories of the night before. Unfortunately they were all accounted for and she groaned at them. She’d still been so wound up from her mother’s shit all day and missing those meetings that when Blue said to have a drink, she had.
One hadn’t done much. The second one helped and every one after that made her feel even better.
She rolled onto her back, covered her face with her hands and groaned.
Blue was probably furious with her. Rightfully so.
With a grunt she pushed herself up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, taking notice of the aspirin and a glass of water sitting on her nightstand. Even in her state her lips twitched into a smile.
‘Oh, Blue.’
She quickly downed them and got up and dressed. Hangover or not she had things to do.
She walked quietly down the stairs and looked around but Blue was nowhere to be seen. She walked into the kitchen, kicking her shoes from the night before. She hissed in pain before kicking them out of the way as she picked up the paper left on the kitchen table.
“Went to the store. Back soon.” was the simple message. Well that was something. If Blue was beyond mad there would have been no note at all. The lack of the usual ‘love, Blue’ was telling as well though. Her wife was definitely not happy with her.
She hummed and nodded to herself. She had time, she knew what she had to do.
Yellow grabbed her wallet and keys before quickly heading out. First to get some much needed coffee.
~
When Blue walked back in the house was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. Setting her grocery bags on the table she saw that her note was gone. So Yellow had gotten up at least.
She didn’t hear anything though. She checked upstairs only to find their bedroom and Yellow’s home office empty of said blonde woman.
She checked out in the garage and saw that Yellow’s car was gone. Where had she gone so early and no doubt hungover on a Saturday morning? She wondered.
Remembering her aggravation from the night before she shrugged it off. Yellow was quite capable of taking care of herself.
She hummed in thought as she pulled out her phone and texted her daughter.
‘When are you coming home?’
Before she could even put it back in her pocket it buzzed with a reply.
‘I dunno, around noon tomorrow.’ It read.
“Tomorrow?!” Blue said aloud to the empty kitchen as she texted the same thing to Pink.
‘Pearl said I could stay again tonight. Mother said it was ok.’ Blue narrowed her eyes at the screen.
That was surprising. Usually when Pink wanted something she came to her, not Yellow.
Yellow usually said no.
She typed a quick affirmative. If Yellow had already told her she could she wasn’t going to argue. They learned quickly as she was coming into her teenage years that the first thing Pink tried to do was divide and conquer. They had to show a united front. Blue knew she was the weak link. They both loved their daughter dearly but Blue had a hard time telling her no.
She went about putting up the groceries when she heard the garage door opening and a few minutes later Yellow walked in, looking a little ragged with her sunglasses on and her usually perfectly combed hair was suffering a massive case of bedhead. She had a large coffee in one hand, her other hand behind her back.
“Gel…” Blue greeted coldly, a frown marring her beautiful face as she continued putting the food away. The use of her real name told Yellow exactly where she stood at the moment.
“Hey…” Yellow pulled off her sunglasses and set down her coffee before walking up to her expectant wife. “Blue, I’m so sorry about what happened last night. I never meant for it to get out of hand that way.”
“I had to drag you out of that party last night.” Blue pursed her lips in aggravation. As she whipped around and pointed an accusing finger at her wife.
“I know. I embarrassed you and ruined our evening. Please let me make it up to you.” from behind her back she pulled the dozen yellow roses she had gone out to get, presenting them to Blue, whose eyes lit up at the beautiful golden flowers.
“Yellow roses?” Blue asked with a quirk of her brow even as she nestled her nose into the delicate flowers.
Yellow smiled sheepishly.
“The florist said yellow roses mean ‘I'm sorry’. The irony isn't lost on me.” She assured. “Let me take you out tonight. I’ve already taken care of everything.”
“Is that why you told Pink she could stay at her friend's house again tonight?” Blue questioned, pulling a single yellow rose from the bouquet and twirling it between her fingers.
“Yes, and it took a few favors but we have a reservation at your favorite restaurant.”
Blue bit her lip, smiling at the gesture before she remembered something and frowned, prompting her wife to step closer, face turning concerned.
“I thought you had to have a business dinner with your mother tonight?” Blue frowned. Yellow must have forgotten about it. She never missed meetings with the old CEO.
Much to Blue’s pleasure, Yellow just rolled her eyes.
“I already told her I couldn’t make it. She’ll get over it, and even if she doesn’t it’s not like I wouldn't hear about it either way.” She grunted. “I have making up to do, to someone more important.”
Blue smiled behind the flowers.
“Alright. I will allow you to make it up to me.” She graciously accepted, making Yellow smile. “It’ll be a party for two.” She whispered conspiratorially before laying a chaste kiss on Yellow’s lips.
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pocparks · 5 years ago
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just shooting shit here(this is going to be some real unorganized stream of consciousness, word salad nonsense but bear with me i just need to get my thoughts out or ill fuckin explode)
but i think what makes ironwoods plan /feel/ so god awful was how fast he was willing to abandon mantle when push came to shove
maybe they could have shown him mulling over the plan for the whole volume, maybe during the “i trust you all :)” phase when he was telling the team all his plans he could tell team rwby about it but have it be like something thats always been there(from the beginning of atlas) as an absolute worst case scenario plan, to evacuate all the citizens of mantle into atlus and shoot the whole thing into space using the relic, and throw in a “i hope we never have to use that plan but i just wanted to let you all know about it because i trust you :)” yknow wink wink nudge nudge
have the volume go as planned, (maybe have ironwood show more concern for mantle so yknow people could trust the character you want them to trust, have that be the reason why he goes crazy trying to balance his plan to tell the world with the struggle to keep mantle safe while watts and tyrion fuck around on the streets and the council+jacques put him in a headlock) then when salem shows up and calls ironwood a bitch and rwby reveal that they didnt trust him until everything fell apart, have him snap and call for the space protocol, when ace ops go to order the evacuation of mantle into atlas have him go “its too late we have to go now” or something (maybe salem said she was on her way during that skype call)
then when rwby oppose him like “we cant just leave the people of mantle :(“, instead of “no you see we HAVE to sacrifice the less fortunate!” it could be a “well whats your plan? you told me she couldnt be killed and you waited until AFTER it was too late so im stuck with the actual worst case scenario ” or something along those lines, or have his focus be “i need to get the relics far a fuckin way from big bad to avoid the shit you told me about and the easiest way to do that on short notice is shoot atlas into space” or something
idk,,, anything that doesnt make ironwood into a heartless monster of an antagonist because we really dont need any more of those especially while the ones we have are just sitting pretty in some room twirling their thumbs waiting for shit to do, and rwby dont even have a damn plan, and they never have had one since ozpin went into the timeout corner, and they never bothered to think up a plan /on screen/ about what to do with salem, ruby’s eye beams are strong but unreliable when it comes to big grimm (unless she went the oscar route of self improvement and trained them off screen) so staying an fighting as just 1 and 3/4 of a huntsman squd is dumb
and before anyone says anything about boot licking ironwoods plan fucking sucks shit both ways, idk why people are so adamant on defending his decision to leave mantle to die, and leaving atlas vulnerable to the whims of whatever the hell is up in space for however long he thinks salem will wait for without any renewable food sources. but hey at least it will get the relic(s) away from salem, which /in theory/ is the goal, to keep petty and pettier from zaping the earth out of existence (AGAIN) its an idiotic plan and hes really not doing it with keeping the relics from salem as a priority but its still a plan and still better than what actually happens (that being the bad guys getting a relic and only 1 and 3/4 of a hunstman squad vs every grimm ever and nemesis herself)
meanwhile rwbyjnr’s plans seem to be to fuck up any and all plans they become involved with and spend 0 time thinking of what they should do in regards to salem and cross their fingers that the Plot will get them through it and its tiring because i cant root for anyone because no one knows what the fuck theyre doing not even the centuries old constantly reincarnating wise old man chracter knows what hes doing and the writers dont seem to think this is a problem
it would be one thing if in the office ruby gave ironwood a plan maybe a “hey my eyes are grimm repellent, maybe we can buy some time to get as many people of mantle into atlas as we can and then shoot that up into space” and have ironwood say no to that, (or have ruby being up a plan way earlier that gets shot down in favour of amity comm tower) but they just get upset, incapacitate some of the best fighters that could help fight off salem and her giant snow globe and hop on an airship to go ???sightseeing???? idk where they’re going, to mantle?? so they can watch people die and feel sad and blame ironwood when their lack of foresight and inflexible sense of justice has doomed not just mantle but also atlas
maybe instead of cuddling penny they could yknow freaking talk about what went so catastrophically wrong?? have ruby say “if only we told him earlier we could have saved all those people!” or something thats not nothing can we see the characters talk about whats going on after the fact for once havent they had enough of sad looks and cuddles, can they talk about their mistakes? how shit ironwood is? where the hell qrow and oscar are(not even one failed call on a scroll just sad smiles and cuddles im sickkkkkk)?? what theyre gonna do now??? something thats NOT NOTHING its so unfulfilling to watch a series where you’re not rooting for everyone but my damn middle school nostalgia and sunk cost fallacy wont let me just drop this damn series im sick and then all of that do watch salem ride in on a glass marble with giant cutout in her dress and an awful boob contour and it really feels like a tragedy that didnt need to get as bad as it does and god the more i think about it the more i really dont like it and hope the next volume saves it
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sweetcatmintea · 6 years ago
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Lemon and Ginger and All That
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@hannahs-creations very kindly provided a random four word prompt to make into a drabble. Thanks for the prompt! Sorry it took a hot minute to write <u<;; 
I hope you enjoy this little scene ^u^ Feedback is appreciated!
Prompt:  vitality, manage, fluster and gleefully
Words: 1768
Characters: Marcos, Whitney, Freddy (Briefly), and Mella
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          Chaotic didn’t cover the state of the 6pm Café. Freddy’s promotion idea went over so well last fortnight, people were practically lining up to see what they’d do to the menu this time. The apple and elder-flower brew did not disappoint. Perfectly refreshing in the warming days of early spring, with a gentle aroma that transported you to the countryside, apple picking with your gran. Light, crumbly, pastries and tiny finger sandwiches sold almost as quickly as they were prepared. Every time a happy customer left, two more would arrive. That may be a little dramatic. It certainly felt like facing the hydra of the food industry at least. Marcos and Freddy were run off their feet greeting customers, taking orders, brewing tea, selling dry blends, answering questions, transporting food, and trying to squeeze in spot cleans. Uncle Antonio hopped between the register and the kitchen, saving Leroy from the flood of demands.
          What terrible timing for Whitney to have to skip out. Although she complained about it, she lived for the busy days like today. She loved to get lost in the hustle, while still managing to find a sense of order and co-ordinating the boys. Marcos had never seen anyone more determined not to take a sick day. When the first thing Whitney did that morning was bolt to the bathroom to re-evaluate dinner, it was clear there was no avoiding it. Regardless of how it went down, the result was the same. Whitney was stuck at home while the boys played the service edition of the floor is lava. (Or would that be the customers?)
          Marcos’ mind was a blur of orders and customers, but he didn’t let himself lose track of time. As soon as the hour ticked over, he tagged out. Of course, he checked that Freddy and Uncle Antonio could manage without him first. Not wasting a second more of his lunch break, he slipped into the backroom, tore off his uniform, replacing it with a change of clothes he’d prepared earlier, and was gone.
          The walk to their house was made significantly faster by running. Marcos was at the painted off-white door in record time. The plan to catch his breath while he fiddled with his pockets looking for his key met a hitch when he couldn’t locate it. Briefly panicking that he’d left it at the café, Marcos tried to calculate how long it would take to run back to get it, would that take too long? It didn’t fall out while he was running did it?? He’d have to go and find it before someone else did. Should he just risk waking Whitney and asking her to let him in? Ah but she won’t get better if she’s no- wait a minute. There it is. False alarm. Fishing the key out of the depths of its fabric prison, Marcos let himself in as quietly as possible. If he was careful, he should be able to avoid the creaky floorboards.
          “I cab ‘ear ‘ou.”
          Never mind. He followed Whitney’s raspy croak to the living room, still mindful to tread lightly. She was huddled on the couch, cocooned with blankets and half draped over the arm of the chair. Mella, taking the role of mother hen, sprawled over Whitney’s tracksuit clad legs, incubating her just in case folding herself into cotton origami wasn’t enough. Fever was obvious, painted over Whitney’s sweaty face, interrupted occasionally by loose strands of hair. She hadn’t even bothered to tie it back. Even in illness, she was an over-achiever.
          “Were you asleep?” He tired to keep his voice soft despite its gravelly texture. Judging by the way the radio was on, but turned down to its lowest possible volume, she probably had a headache. He wondered briefly if she was resenting her rabbit hearing at the moment.
          Whitney shook her head, waving his worries off. “I was ju- uh- aacho!” Another balled up tissue in the over-stuffed bin. “I was jus’ dyin’g apparendly. No, I was listenig do the mid-day stories. Whab are ‘ou doin’g ‘ere?” Mella whined and wiggled closer to Whitney’s flushed face. She was supposed to be resting!
          Marcos shrugged. “I got you some tea. Give me a second, I’ll make it for you. It’s called, uh, ‘Vitalitea’ and it’s got lemon and ginger and all that. Should hopefully make you feel better.” It couldn’t make her any worse at least. Red eyes and streaming nose, it was almost painful to see her so far from her bubbly self.
          Whitney had always been good at reading people. Just because she was unwell didn’t mean she couldn’t see the crease setting into Marcos’ forehead. He was always so busy worrying about others. The demand he not pity her fell away to the realisation of what he’d said.
          “You cabe back jusd ‘o bake tea?”
          “No. I’ll get you some lunch too.” He wandered off to the kitchen to get started, entirely missing the touched shock he left her in. According to his calculations, he was still on track even after stalling to get into the house. The majority of making food was just waiting for the tea to brew. It took next to no time to make a sandwich or boil water. While the tea was brewing, he grabbed a brush and a hair tie, returning to the sick bunny.
          Seeing her face a tiny bit more flushed made his stomach twist. Was it really okay for her to stay here alone?
          “Can you sit up? I’ll put your hair up since I’m here.”
          Whitney sighed dramatically but wiggled her way to a sitting(ish) position, much to Mella’s disapproval. “Leab me here to die. I’b not lon’g for thid worlb.”
          “Nah, I think we’ll save ya Cottontail. You know Freddy and me’ll be lost without ya at the café.” He chuckled, combing the brush through her long, long, hair. She tried not to think about how his breath tickled her ear, sending tingles down her spine.
          “I tolb ‘ou nod do call be that.” She huffed. Her mock anger easy to see through. It she’d really wanted him to stop, he would have done so immediately. “You’re righbt tho. You do neeb me. Who else can stob Fred’dy frob gleefully bestering beople on dates?”
          “He’s not even here and you’re picking on ‘im?”
          “I’b allobed to. It’s by twind given righbt.”
          “Can’t argue with that.” Marcos’ hands worked quickly, twisting the strands into a roughly uniform braid. Whitney may have preferred a bun, but that just wasn’t in his skill set yet. As he worked, his own auburn curls wiggled loose. The ponytail must’ve come undone on his way over. He probably should just cut the shaggy mane, but he liked the feeling of it brushing his skin.
          Whitney released her arm from the blanket burrito to playfully tug a strand. “You’re kinba a bess. Whab did ‘ou do, rub the whole bay?”
          “Yup.”
          His steady gaze caught her off guard. “Waib, really?” Whitney’s pink cheeks shifted much closer to a shade of red, causing Marcos’ brow to furrow. It didn’t help that she only seemed to heat up more when he pressed his hand to her forehead. She must’ve been really unwell, even her usually pale rabbit ears were tinted rose.
          “Hold on. I think your tea should be ready.” He vanished back into the kitchen, retying his hair as he went.
          The butterflies in Whitney’s brain were certainly just sickness making her dizzy. Nothing else. Mella stared at her. Judgementally. It wasn’t her fault her dumb heart was fluttering. Her pop rock pulse was obviously not her buzzing with giddiness. Of course she didn’t have a crush on Marcos. It didn’t matter how thoughtful he was, or how he made her feel special and appreciated with no ulterior motive. His gentle presence was just a part of him being Marcos. Falling for that would just be… well, it would be… Okay. She couldn’t lie to herself. Frog toes. It wasn’t the plague she’d managed to contract that made her face glow when he touched her. His concerned expression flashed across her mind. The tiny tilt of his scruffy eyebrows, the amber that almost glowed against the dark lines that always seemed to line his eyes, the way he looked at her. Oh dear, she melted into a goopy mess. Stars Above, she had Feelings for the scraggly hare. She had to compose herself. Pondering whether he felt something for her too would have to wait until he was gone. Working herself into a fluster was less than ideal. Upon the realisation, Mella smiled at her, in the way dogs do. If Whitney didn’t know better, she’d think Mella could read her mind. Why was she being so cocky? As if she figured it out first! Whitney’s mental rambling was interrupted by Marcos bringing in her lunch.
          “Here. I put honey in the tea. It’s s’posed to be good for sore throats? Mum used to do that for me, honey and milk I mean. Should help you too.” His ears twitched self-consciously. Sure it was common knowledge that honey was a good soother, but he still felt the need to explain himself. Maybe because Whitney almost always preferred not to sweeten her teas and he hadn’t forgotten that. Whitney smiled, still too pink for his liking, thanked him and took a sip, evaporating his worries.
          “There’s some medicine if you need it, and a bottle of water for later, y’know, so you don’t have to get up again… I’ve gotta head now or I’ll be late back. You gonna be okay?”
          “I’b a big girl, I’ll be okay.” She took another sip. “Than’gs fo’ this. I abbreciate ib.”
          “Not a problem. Just focus on betting better.”
          “Oh byeah, before you go, there’s somb faze wibes in by roob. Take theb with you to geb rib ob the sweat. You brobably smbell.” To make certain she wasn’t being overly sincere, she poked her tongue at him.
          “’course I do. I’m healthy so I can still breathe through my nose.” Marcos grabbed the wipes and darted out of the door before he had to face her faux fury.
          It took a sprint, but he made it back to the café with just enough time to clean up and get re-dressed. He was tired as anything and had forgotten about his own lunch in the process of it all, but still found a spring in his step for the rest of the day. It was nice to think he might’ve made her feel a little better.
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Taglist
@inkovert and @snobbysnekboi
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qdtquietdownthere · 5 years ago
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Day 5- Warwick castle and long lost worry
I think I have been pretty good at giving up control throughout the residency. Pretty good at walking into new rooms, pulling up a chair and getting stuck in. But today is one activity I am a bit anxious about, because it is a full day event of getting on a coach and following someone else schedule. That is a bit daunting to me. I can still remember being wee and being at someone else house at a sleepover and all I wanted to do was to go home and be in my own space. I think I would cry until my dad drove over and took me home. Or just be a bit miserable for 12 hours. So really, I blame my Dad for the worry I am feeling over Warwick.
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Today has been great. We meet at a pub situated at the end of the peabody estate which is comprised of a beautiful street with almost a courtyard running between two rows of houses. There is a park and flowers and at one end there is a memorial park and the Thamesbank centre at the other. The sense of local community seems from the outside as being quite tight, purely because of the proximity to great spaces and services. Back to the trip….(its so easy to write a stream of consciousness)…Around 50 of us turn up at the pub to get on the coach. It is s £15 if you're not a resident of the peabody estate and £10 if you are. This included crips biscuits, water, fruit coach travel, entry into Warwick castle and drop off/pick up in Stratford. £10!!! Edna who organises it is wonderful and as a volunteer this is clearly something she feels passionately about. I get to talk to Edna a little on the drive home. She tells me how this has enabled families to get out of the estate and have a holiday which they otherwise couldn't afford, or wouldn't have the confidence to take. The name pimlico million comes up again as the money funding this trip through Thamesbank centre. Today’s activity has been the most diverse activity have done and my age doesn't seem to stand out like a sore thumb. There are children and old people, a group of ladies from the Philippines who Edna jokes will talk very loudly all through the trip, so no one should sit near them. Its a warm and excited atmosphere and I feel at ease straight away, edna enables that but so does everyone else. There is a wide mix of ages and nationalities and it becomes apparent how important this is increasingly becoming in feeling less lonely in both the short term and long term. Im sat here now and I feel energised by spending a day with someone who is 60 years older than me, but having sat next to a young girl eating her white chocolate magnum. Its a representation of society and I like it. 
I spend all day with a lady called Elizabeth who is 80 but is full of life and owns 5 bicycles and has three draws filled with scarves. She lives in a council flat but is surrounded by privately owned homes. This is a reoccurring conversation and many of the things we talk about throughout the day come back to this. In how obese sense of community is put into a different orbit when you're neighbours are somewhat wealthy homeowners and you are not. Whats you're identity there. I find this fascinating when Elizabeth and i talk about it. She talks about the separate estates, the separate areas and boroughs- what each of these identify about a person seem to be significant. It tells of family and history. This has come up before, “My family has been here for generations’ and the fairs in each of the different areas to promote cross estate ‘friendliness’. This is especially interesting when bringing in the conversation of loneliness. It is a loneliness which goes beyond not having someone to share a cup of tea with, its loneliness within a community, loneliness because of your geographical location. Because everyone around you is upper class but you're in supported housing.
I am starting to see how local people really are enabling the services and activities in the area. It seems the most far reaching and most impactful ‘services’ are those which are created by the people living in the community. I can understand why people have been a bit wary of me and understand even more why when the topic of my purpose of being there comes up, its met with maybe less enthusiasm than I anticipated. Its a community working hard to look after itself as locally as it can. Street by street and by ages, needs and area. 
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I am tired tonight. I thought older people liked to nap so was hoping to have one myself on the bus. However Elizabeth and i chatted and chatted all the way. I am starting to get connected to people in the community now and i would love to see Elizabethth as a friend. Its interesting how I am starting to connect here, i even think about googling spare rooms available in the area…
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