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lovelywritinglady · 6 months ago

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Crocodile Tears pt.1

Crocodile xfem!reader

In which you and your husband,Crocodile, get into an argument and it spirals out of control.

Heavy angst, hurt with no comfort, usage of bitch, Set a little before Alabasta. Could be split into more parts if requested.

You were so tired of being put last. Nearly a decade spent with this man. All of the work you put into this relationship. All of the broken promises. All of the times he was late or completely forgot about your plans together. Normally you’re a very patient woman and had always been sympathetic of your husbands time. But not today. Too many damn anniversaries missed and you were now fed up. You decided to confront your husband on his bullshit and demand a solid reason for being late to your own anniversary dinner that you had spent hours perfecting.

You walked straight into his office that was located in the basement of your shared casino. You didn’t bother knocking as whatever he was doing was no where near as important as him missing your anniversary dinner. His head shot up at the sound of someone barging in. Crocodile gave confused and angry look before softening it ever so slightly at the sight of you. He sighed looking at you as you’d told before him. He could tell that whatever you were mad about was completely his fault.

“Yes my dear?” He asked giving very little of his attention as he continued writing on his documents.

“You know why I’m here.” You spat crossing your arms.

“What is it now?” He sighed

“Don’t you know what day it is?” You questioned harshly tired of his forgetfulness.

“No idea, but I’m very busy right now, I’ll deal with you later.” Crocodile bit back now giving you attention.

“It’s our fucking anniversary!” You yelled as frustrated tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’ll make it up to you later. Right now I’m in the middle of something important. You can damn well wait.” He snapped slamming his hand down.

“Am I really not that important to you?” You cried as your body trembled.

“No, you’re not! Now I’ll deal with you later!” He yelled

“No fuck that, why am I not important to you? After all I’ve done. I love you why can’t you ever prioritize me!” You exclaimed balling your fists to your sides.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a nagging bitch, maybe I would. Now leave I have more important things to do then bitch with you. Get out!” He furiously yelled standing up out of his chair as he gave you a look of pure hatred.

You stood there trembling in fear as your tears stopped as your hands were now shaking. Crocodile noticed the look of fear in your eyes but was too mad at you to even care. You couldn’t move, however, a hand touched your shoulder. You moved with it still too stunned to react as it led you out of your husbands office and into the long carpeted hallway and then into the Casino that was owned by both you and your husband. Soon enough, you were outside and now were alone as the figure left you alone in the dark

You looked out into the pitch black sky as you came back to your senses. A furious son left your body as you sunk to your knees. You cried and cried until your body felt numb and your eyes felt raw from the salty tears that left them. You then hugged your now cold body as your rocked yourself trying to give yourself some comfort. After a few more moments, you slowly picked yourself up off the ground and walked to the shared home that you and crocodile lived in together that was about a five minute walk from the Casino.

There you grabbed the first suitcase that you could get your hands on and filled it with as much of your personal belongings as you could fit not caring too much about your fancy clothes and trinkets. Once you were done, you took a good look at the outfit that you were still wearing and promptly took it off and replaced it with more comfortable clothes.

You had no pleads of what to do but you knew you needed to leave. Too long had Crocodile forgotten about your needs. Too long had he put you last. Too long have you stayed with someone that didn’t love you the way you loved them. Too long had you given him everything while he gave you nothing. You were done and tired of his half assed apologies and broken promises. So, you made a phone call to the harbor. The transponder snail ring for a while and you were scared that because of the hour, they wouldn’t pick up.

“Yes, hello miss how may I help you?” The transponder snail finally spoke.

“Yes, hi, I’d like to book at ticket to the first ship that will go to Dressrosa.

“Dressrosa? Well you’ll have to take multiple ships to go there but we can get you on a ship that will take you to the next available island that has a ship that goes there. Is that alright?” The teller spoke

“Yes that should be fine.” You spoke doing your best to sound normal as your voice was still sore from crying. “When is the first available ship?” You asked

“At 6 in the morning.” They responded

“I’ll take it.” You replied quickly.

“Alrighty, I’ll see you then. I’d like to let you know that it’s firsts come first serve here so be sure to arrive early to get a good seat.” They told you kindly.

“Thank you, have a good night.” You said

“I will, you too miss.” They responded

And with that you hung up the transponder snail. You signed hanging you head before standing up straight and focusing on the task at hand. You decided to go into the shared safe that you and your husband had in your room and put as much cash as you could in your suitcase and one of the purses that you decided to take. It was a lot and you just hopped that you wouldn’t be robbed as that money would help you with the next step in your life. You then grabbed a piece of paper from your side table drawer and a blue inked pen and wrote a small good bye letter to Crocodile.

My dear husband,

You might not care about any of this but I need to let you know my feelings.

I love you and even as I write this letter I love you. And despite my burning love for you, I cannot stay in this loveless marriage any longer. You have proven time and time again that I am not an important aspect of your life and I’d rather leave than be a hindrance to you or the empire you are trying to build.

With all my love,

Y/n L/n

Once you were done and with your suitcase in hand you walked all the way to the harbor. When you arrived you promptly purchased a ticket not caring about where you sat. As you walked onto the boat, you looked back at the vast desert that you once called home smiling bitterly at the events of last night.

“The ship is now departing. I repeat the ship is now departing.” A voice called out

“Goodbye my darling.” You whispered into the wind as the ship left the harbor.

Meanwhile…

“Where the hell is she!” Crocodile yelled in a furious rage as he walked into your shared bedroom some of the maids were cleaning.

“Sorry sir, we were asleep when the mistress came in.” One of the maids spoke meekly as she was scared of Crocodile.

“Daz, find her!” Crocodile barked

“Yes sir.” Daz Bones responded as he immediately left to find you.

Crocodile was furious, confused, and guilty. He knew he fucked up. He was so stressed about all of the work that had to be done and the news about a bunch of rookie pirates finding out his identity that he snapped and completely disregarded your anniversary. His mind was scrambled and his heart was aching for his sweet wife who now is nowhere to be seen.

“Umm… Sir.” Another maid spoke quietly

“What!” He snapped looking at her with pure fury.

“Sorry sir but we found this on the side table.” She spoke quickly handing him your letter.

He read it silently as he took in each word and sentence that you had written out just for him to read. His heart broke but the sudden realization of how much of a shitty husband dawned on him. And unfortunately for him, too late. Now you were gone, his sweet wife, his love.

“I’ll find you y/n.” He whispered before waking out of your shared bedroom determined to find you no matter the cost.

Thank you so much for reading!��

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog

Click here to see what I’m write for and HERE for my master list.

• I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

Part 1 Part 2

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shitty-writers-blog · 7 months ago

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THE ONE WHERE YOU ASK FOR HELP [EP.1]

I also am still getting to know Colter Shaw. He is being written as I depict him so far, and hopefully, later on, I will be able to know how to write about him perfectly.

Hey guys, this is my first ever fanfic. I know it's not gonna be the best, so please be nice to me.

Please feel free to tell me how I can write better and maybe send it request? I hope you guys enjoy/like this first part.

Colter x F! Reader

You had been pacing back and forth unable to decide whether to worry about your brother who you haven’t heard from in a week, usually he would call after he arriving to his destination, your brother had caught the traveling bug at a young age like you mother. Unlike you who hated the thought of traveling due to all the responsibilities you had to take in as a young teenager, your mom was always traveling to New places whether it was in the country or international, your father had decided to spilt from you and the rest of the family because he’d grown tired of your mother’s antiques. If you weren’t so protective of your brother you would have left with your dad as well, but because your brother didn’t want to leave mom you ended up sacrificing your childhood, your father still provided financially, but emotionally or physically he wasn’t present.

During all this you had your best friend Colter Shaw to keep you afloat, soon y'all started dating junior year and continued all through your college journey it wasn’t, until Colter decided he wanted to be a rewardist and travel to find missing people for money, you tried making it work, but you were exhausted at the idea of him traveling and doing the long distance thing so you did something that you never wanted to do. You ended things with him, as he was in the middle of proposing, he tried to convince you to work with him, but you explained your issues with traveling and then that was it you never saw or spoke to Colter again.

That is until your brother potentially went missing, you still had Colter's number at least you hoped you thought to yourself, you kept messing with you lips, with furrowed eyebrows, thinking deeply about wondering if you were being to overprotective, that maybe he was alright and you’re just worked up over nothing because let’s be honest your brother wasn’t the best at calling you to assure you he’s fine.

“Fuck it.” You said as you picked up your phone from your bed and scrolled at your contact list until you found his name Shaw you pressed call and as it started to ring your heart started to beat fast and loud, you inhaled and exhaled as you continued to pace in your room, as you were about to hang up, you heard his voice.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” you heard his voice with a lace of worry and confusion, you face palmed yourself wincing at how stupid you probably were- “uh, hello? Y/n are you there?” he interrupted your train of thought “Oh um, yeah hey Colter!” You said a bit more enthusiastically than you intended you cringed at yourself as you shook your head in annoyance why can’t you act cool for once you thought to yourself. “um, sorry to bother you Colter and I wish we would talk under different circumstances, but um- are you still doing that rewards job by any chance?” you asked hoping he would be able to help you with your situation, you heard a chuckle as he answered back a simple yes and asked what was going on with you. You explained to him the situation and he told you how lucky you were because he had just finished a job, he told you how he’d drive up to your place since he was 2 hours away, you thanked him and then hung up the phone.

I decided it would be better if I got dressed, so I took a quick shower even used my favorite scented exfoliator because why not. And did my normal shower routine, then I decided to do my routine that I always do after a shower. I decided to clean up a bit even though it was already pretty clean, once I turned my wax melt on I heard the door bell ring. I straightened myself and checked myself in the mirror to make sure I looked okay, I took a deep breath in and I exhaled it as I opened the door. “Wow! Um, hey, I uh got lost- how is it that all these apartments look very identical?” I laughed Stepping to the side as a sign for him to enter, he smiled as he entered my house noticing I had a shoe rack by the door and he started to take his shoes off. “Thanks for taking your shoes off, most people who visit never do and I’m always to shy to say something.” I explain while shutting the door behind me, he nodded and gave a small smirk, “well I’m very observant and I’ve known you since we were young, every time I entered your room I always had to take my shoes off. Only difference now is I don’t have my own inside pair of slippers to put on.” I frowned a bit at the memory, but let out a breathy chuckle, “I bought a new pair for my brother Chance, for when he crashed at my place. You two have the same shoe size so you can have those,” Colter smiled nodding as a way to silently thank me, I walked up to my little storage closet and got the pair out and handed it to him, he went and sat on my couch and I sat distantly close to him.

I looked at the floor nervously because this was the first time in years we’ve seen each other and first time seeing him, I realized those feelings were still there towards him, and the fact that he had a major glow up. I bit my lip trying to come up with a topic to converse, but my mind wouldn’t stop going down memory lane about how we used to be inseparable and the last thing I said to him was no to becoming his wife. There has always been a part of me that regretted saying no, to breaking up with him just because he chose to do this for a living and the fact that it involved so much traveling, I just couldn’t go through what my mother put me through with Colter. “Y/n?” I looked up confused at him, “I asked you to voice your thoughts.” I looked away a bit flushed at how well he could read me, I even thought for a second he was able to read my mind. “oh well, it's nothing, really.” I tell him making eye contact with him for the first time in 10 minutes, he raised his eyebrow as a way to tell me he didn’t believe me and gave me that look he would always give me that said to spill it or he’d get it out of me. I rolled my eyes and told him how annoying he still was, and that made him laugh, “yeah okay, I hate to mention this, but your brother, why do you think he’s missing?” I sighed, putting my legs up to my chest, looking at my coffee table, taking a deep breath and bolting myself up, starting to pace back and forth, telling him everything I knew and didn’t know.

#colter shaw x reader #tracker imagines #colter shaw #colter shaw imagines

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sadstrever · 2 months ago

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i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

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elialys · 7 months ago

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Per your lovely, lovely flawed show tag, I am curious what you think the flaws of Fringe are?

I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, I got distracted!

Fringe definitely had its share of flaws. I won’t even address the ones that can “be excused” by the fact that it was a show made before/early 2010s in terms of representations/inclusions, because you know, it is what it is.

I think my biggest ‘regret’/annoyance has always been the writers’ tendency to…shove traumas under a rug, or to not properly (if at all) talk about the consequences of some events that happened. I get that they had to make the characters go through a lot of drama because that’s the point of stories, especially on TV shows that have over 20 episodes per season, but the characters suffered through some terrible stuff time and time again, and they were just FINE. And it’s not like they didn’t know how to do it!

I’ve always loved the first few episodes of season 2 because they showed recovery. Olivia had a bad car accident, then she had to kill “Charlie”, and it took her time to get better from all of that, not just physically but emotionally, too. And yet, over and over again after that, she goes through horrible things and there’s…almost nothing? Like, I adore Marionette, I think it’s a brilliant episode through & through, but I still can’t believe Olivia went through all the shit she went through Over There (and coming back) and didn’t have some serious PTSD, on top of EVERYTHING ELSE she’d already gone through (aka why I wrote Shivered Bones). Peter too was barely allowed to mention what Walter did to him after he came back at the end of season 2, barely ever allowed to mention what Altlivia did to him either, except in some awkward bits of dialogue (I will discuss Peter’s character a bit more later).

Also, the whole REWRITING THE TIMELINE at the end of season 3?? Biggest cop-out. I mean, I’ve never hid the fact that any kind of ‘amnesia’ plot is honestly one of my LEAST favorite tropes, in anything. From the moment that season started airing and Peter reappeared being a complete stranger, I just disliked that so much on principle. But what will always pain me is how by doing so, the writers completely erased not just Peter but THE FIRST THREE SEASONS.

Like, poof, gone.

(adding a 'keep reading' because this is long 😂)

Conveniently, it erased Baby!Henry in the process, which the writers might have felt would be too much of an issue? Personally I would have loved to see that unfold. I know I’ve discussed this before on this blog, probably more than once, but they could have kept SO MUCH of season 4 the way it was, as far as the Bridge was concerned, could have come up with a brand new Vilain to do all the “NEW UNIVERSE” stuff Bell/Jones tried to do, while our core characters had to deal with the consequences of everything that happened in season 3 (including Peter being a dad, WITHOUT trying to force a stupid ‘love triangle’ down our throats, thank you). It would have made for great, impactful family drama, because who are we kidding. Anyone who loves Fringe typically loves it because it is such an emotional, family drama. So yes, I will forever mourn the universe(s) we had season 1-3, and endlessly daydream about what could have been.

Now let me talk about Peter Bishop, it’s been a hot minute. Peter Bishop, who was hated basically the entire time the show was airing, and still now is strongly disliked by a lot of viewers, and honestly, I can’t blame them? I’ve had over a decade to analyze his character, have spent hundreds of hours writing stories from his POV, explaining his traumas & mistakes, have written giant meta posts about him back in the days to explain his behavior, so I’m not exactly objective, but I’m also very honest about how flawed his character is. Not (just) as a human being, which is normal because humans are flawed. I mean, he’s flawed in the way the writers used him/wrote him.

He’s probably the most inconsistent of all the characters. He’s the character who suffered the most from the ‘let’s make this person act out a certain way to make sure it fits our plot’ syndrome. I will never forgive the writers for how…clueless (for lack of a better word), they wrote Peter in early season 3 during the Switch. Yes, Peter was traumatized as a kid, yes he was in love, yes yes, I know all of that, I’ve written endlessly about it to explain his cluelessness so I know.

Still, Peter should have figured it out. Peter as we saw him in season 1 and 2, especially second half of season 2, would have figured out. He figured out BY HIMSELF that he was from another universe, ‘just’ from his dad and Olivia’s weird behaviors and the fact that he didn’t go ‘POOF’ on that bridge in 2x18. Peter went to another universe, he met Olivia’s alternate. He’d just spent weeks running from his life, trying to accept the fact that he was lied to all of his life. At best, he was suspicious, at worst, he was paranoid (as was mentioned in 2x20 in Northwest Passage). Literally 3 days after he gets to THAT OTHER UNIVERSE, and 3 hours after meeting Olivia’s doppelganger, Olivia ‘I hide from my own emotions’ Dunham comes tell him he belongs with her and smooches him, so he goes home. Yet the writers want me to believe Peter would not have still been reeling from EVERYTHING that just happened in his life, and not be a bit on edge?

Like, ‘damn, the woman I love and have come to know quite well these past 2 years is suddenly SO DIFFERENT? ALMOST LIKE SHE’S ANOTHER PERSON? A BIT LIKE THAT ALTERNATE VERSION OF HER I MET 48H AGO, THAT’S NOT A COINCIDENCE AT ALL’. But nope, Peter just accepts it, EVERY CHARACTER on that side just accepts it, when Lincoln and Charlie keep on looking at our Olivia like “Is this chick for real? WHAT IF THEY SWITCHED THEM?”

I’m forever frustrated. It just doesn’t feel believable to me, never has. It feels like the writers went “we want everyone, and especially Peter, to be clueless the entire time so we can write our drama the way we planned it.” And that’s a shame, honestly, because that whole damn arc is already so good as it is. But it would been even better if Peter HAD figured it out, if he’d kept on pretending for a bit, if HE’D conned Altlivia the way she conned him. Like I mentioned before, Olivia already went through so much trauma during the Switch, they could have found ways to make her miserable upon coming back, without Peter having slept with her alternate for a few weeks—and the knowledge that he didn’t realize what was going on. More daydreaming on my part about what could have been.

I could go on when it comes to the way they wrote Peter honestly. The whole “maybe Peter has feelings for the other Olivia” crap in the second half of s3, and “the universe that will survive depends on which Olivia Peter chooses”, excuse me??? Altlivia basically abused him??? She used him in so many ways, including sexually. She wasn’t even herself, she was pretending, playing him the whole time. HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO HAVE FEELINGS EXCEPT A LOT OF SELF-LOATHING AND MORE UNRESOLVED TRAUMA?

Anyway, I think you get my vibe and why I’ll forever be sad/mad about this. As a writer & storyteller myself, one of my strengths and favorite aspects of writing is figuring out the characters’ motivations, what drives them, and how it makes them behave. Peter’s character is just…wobbly, during those arcs. He’s inconsistent from plotline to plotline, and it feels off to me. He’s a lot more true and consistent to how I understand him in season 4, but in season 3, he’s a hot mess, meant as a plot device more than anything else, and that makes me sad. Characters are what drive stories and shape the plot, not the other way around. So yeah, I don’t blame people for always having such strong opinions/dislikes where Peter is concerned.

I could come up with more things, but this is already long enough 😂 In case that wasn’t clear, those flaws don’t stop me from having the deepest love for this show. What it did well, it did extremely well, and even all those years later, I still cry rewatching it, because the emotions were real. They're still real.

Plus it gave me Olivia Dunham, so really, it wins just for that.

#fringe #fringe meta #kinda 😂#also called 'ambre is ranting at 13 year old plotlines that made no sense'#meta

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thanx-files · 3 months ago

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IT’S SEASON FINALE TIME, MOTHERFUCKERS

s01e24: Erlenmeyer Flask

Well folks. Just short of a week after starting the series, I find myself at the end of season 1. It’s been SO LONG since I watched this kind of show, and I am so psyched. I am expecting big things. Thoughts and review below the cut! ⬇️

Listen folks, this is a chaotic series of bullet points that might not mean anything to anyone who isn’t me. There IS a coherent review of the finale/season at the end, if you’re interested. Just scroll, I guess.

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING:

The way Mulder is always watching campy horror movies is so fucking endearing.

“No. I think he does it because you do.” SCULLY WITH THE SLAM DUNK FROM DOWNTOWN!!! Get his ass!!!

I still don’t know where we are going.

AW SHIT A WHITE VAN JUST ROLLED UP? At least Mulder clocked it. Oh, shit, wait, he’s following it. Fuck.

OH MY GOD. OHHHHHH MY GOD. IT’S A DUDE FARM.

Someone who isn’t Mulder said EXTRATERRESTRIAL out loud!!! To Scully!!!

DID MULDER JUST VAULT THAT FENCE?

Oh shit they weren’t clones?????? I thought I knew what was up!!!

THEY KILLED ANNE?????? IT’S REALER THAN IT HAS EVER BEEN BEFORE!!!!!!

AW SHIT THEY GOT MY BOY!!!

I have NEVER heard the phrase “log in” applied to an actual physical log sheet before this exact moment.

Real question: is this where the “trust no one” trope originated? Is that too broad a warning to be a trope at all?

“I’m not gonna give up. I can’t give up. Not as long as the truth is out there.”

REVIEW:

Let me be so real with you all: This is not my favorite episode of The X-Files so far. It felt scattered, but I admit that I think that is kind of the point. Everything escalated so quickly and got so far out of hand. Mulder and Scully are also out-of-sync, and we see some of the first real conflict between them — more than just “Mulder this is silly” and “Scully why can’t you believe?” — and I think that’s going to make their dynamic stronger going forward. Also, I am HOPING that we get to see more of Scully navigating the idea of belief after this.

Also, David’s delivery of the whole phone conversation is really good. It’s kind of mesmerizing. Mulder never talks like that; it’s like he’s trying so hard to sound normal, but the ground just shifted beneath him.

Anyway, while I didn’t feel super strongly about Erlenmeyer Flask, I feel really strongly about the season as a whole. We are introduced to these characters in such a way that we never doubt their motivations or their relationship for a SECOND. From the moment they meet, we know that they are all-in not only on the job, but on each other. This should be studied for science! I’ve never bought into characters so instantaneously. And I’ll stay bought in for as long as the character writing stays this strong; aliens, I can take or leave. But whatever these two have going on is addictive.

5 favorite eps: Deep Throat (Scully kicks some ASS), Squeeze (gosh the nest scene still fucks with me), Conduit (sad boy hours), Ice (Mulder and Scully point guns at each other!), and Beyond the Sea (need I say more?).

5 least favorite eps: Ghost in the Machine, Eve, Lazarus, Shapes, Roland.

Anyway, if you made it this far, thanks for welcoming me into this fan space that’s so much fun even 30 years after the premiere! See ya in season 2!

#the x files #txf #fox mulder #spooky mulder #dana scully #dana scully md #agent mulder #do you think i’m spooky?#agent scully #x files #msr

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sophiasharp · 1 year ago

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I apparently won’t be able to sleep till I put this idea out there so here’s a new fic idea idk if I’ll ever get around to. A warning, this whole thing is dealing with sex, dom/sub dynamics, and is supposed to be a look into how Dew tends to be portrayed in popular fanon. This is also not proofread in the slightest cause it’s 4 am as of writing and I need to be up in roughly 4 hours:

After a scene with Swiss involving forced fem and some quintosis, something goes wrong and Dew becomes seemingly stuck in Princess mode. At first the change isn’t noticed, even praised by those who do, but it soon becomes clear that this sudden shift in demeanor isn’t all fun and games and that something is truly, deeply wrong with Dew. And it’s all hands on deck to fix it.

They sit “Princess” down and each take turns trying to talk to her about why she’s still here and where Dewdrop is, THEIR Dewdrop. Princess doesn’t seem to like her more lucid counterpart all that much for some reason, calls him a “grumpy meanie who only cares about himself and is good for nothing.” The rest of the group is horrified by this outlook but have no idea where it’s come from. Sure, Dew hasn’t always had the best self image, but would he really go that far? Does his subconscious really hate himself that badly?

With every person that comes up to talk to her, Princess mentions a past scene they and Dew were in together, and how he “wasn’t very good then, but I can be very good now, I promise!” They think they’ve found a pattern at first: it’s all scenes where Dew was a brat and was punished for it. However, as more people talk to Princess, more discrepancies show up, with the only thing tying the events together being her insistence that she’ll be good for them, that’s she’ll be better for them than Dew was.

She explains that all she wants, more than anything else in the world, is to be good for them- to please her packmates the way she thinks Dew can’t- but the more the band ask for Dew, the more despondent Princess becomes. Eventually, she breaks down crying, sobbing even over her inability to make her pack happy, much to the horror and confusion of the rest of the group; Dew has never shown his emotions so openly to his pack before. At least, not since his elemental change.

It’s at this point that the group put together a few things: 1.) the reason Mountain and Aether weren’t immediately clued in that something was wrong was because Princess acts a lot like how Dew used to before the elemental transition; 2.) nowadays, the only times Dew ever gets this vulnerable is if he’s scared or if he’s in subspace; 3.) the reason Swiss and Aether can’t undo the quintosis is because some part of Dew is holding onto it, refusing to let it go.

The band is able to put together that this Princess they’re talking to isn’t some other entity made up by the quintosis- it’s still Dew, just deep in character and deep in subspace. The fem bend to it is just a side effect of the initial scene that got Dew stuck.

So, after everyone else has had a go, initially too scared to make it worse but needing to try since no one is left, Swiss comforts Princess and gets them to open up about their worries, revealing what caused the problem and what the root of it is.

The scenes Princess mentioned were each scenes from the past week or two where Dew was left feeling like he hadn’t satisfied his partner. It didn’t matter whether that was true or not, it was a growing concern due to the way the scenes played out: the degradation landing a bit too close to home, the feigned boredom to his efforts to please, his small size compared to the rest of the ghouls, the physical denial of a satisfying end because he hadn’t been “a good boy.” The shame that normally turned him on even more instead sat heavy in his head and built up more and more. He didn’t tell anyone about his mounting insecurities, however, because it’s what he’s used to, what was supposed to be comfortable. He asked for it, so why can’t he deal with it? He’s never had to make a fuss about it before, so he wouldn’t then, even as the gnawing anxieties began to spread outside the bedroom and into every-day tasks, like messing up a run during practice or getting overwhelmed enough to snap at his bandmates.

The scene with Swiss finally made him feel like he was worth something again, only with the added quintosis, the satisfaction didn’t sink all the way through to Dew. Instead, it gave him to idea that he was ONLY worth anything to his pack when he was being the good girl he thought they wanted.

But if now Princess’s pack is saying that they don’t want her anymore, then she’s failed; she wasn’t good enough for them. She tried so hard to be what they wanted but still she fell short. It must be something wrong with both her AND Dew, then, something utterly unfixable that made them undeserving of their pack’s affection. After all, bad girls don’t deserve love. They don’t deserve anything. They’re just a waste of space.

Naturally, this train of thought WILL not stand with the rest of the pack any longer, the bulk of which are mortified that they let this go on for so long and that they had any hand in the downward spiral their favorite fire ghoul took. They all assure Dew/Princess that he doesn’t need to do anything to earn their love; he always had it to start with, and that that love extended to all parts of him, even the parts that he’s self conscious of. Sex isn’t a trial to prove worthiness, not to the partner or even to yourself. Sex us just one of many ways people can connect with one another, and it has no baring on their every-day life any more than they granted it.

Crying again, this time from love more than fear, Dew finally finds it in him to let go of the quintessence and come back to those he love.

#the band ghost #ghost the band #the ghost band #band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #ghostbc #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost ficlet #Sharp’s writing #this is kinda partially a vent piece #you ever read a fic and go ‘damn. I feel like I could use some aftercare on the character’s behalf’#no shade at all to the fic that prompted this- it was really good -but for some reason my brain broke for a bit and I let Dew bare my sins

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lillotte17 · 9 months ago

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Gimme a breakdown of how Nivan feels about every companion and why, if you're so inclined

Oh how I missed getting OC asks from you!! 🥺💕

I am ALWAYS inclined to talk about my characters, so here we go with Nivan's Opinions of the Troupe:

Lae’zel: Mean Wet Cat. Nivan trusts her in a fight, but will not be taking her advice on dealing with people, unless they also happen to be Githyanki. Honestly feels kind of sorry for her, because nothing about being a Githyanki warrior seems like a good time to him, but he would not say that anywhere near her for fear of being stabbed. Person he is least likely to tease because she would not get the joke, and might also kill him.

Shadowheart: They get along pretty easily because neither of them want to talk about their past, and despite her best efforts, she thinks it’s funny when he’s being a bit of a shit. He knew she wasn’t as dark and broody as she plays it as soon as Scratch got to the camp. Little sister vibes.

Gale: Easy Mark #1. Obviously well-off, handsome, and extremely lonely. Under normal circumstances, he would be a prime candidate for a patron. Easy to fluster. Easy to tease. Perfectly charm-able. Alas, they need to save the world at the moment, and this wizard comes with a high probability of exploding. They’ve both studied, so they enjoy discussing books and magic, but Gale also has terminal Stuck Up Rich Kid vibes, so that’s always going to be a bit of a barrier for street kid Nivan in terms of actually getting close.

Astarion: Mean Wet Cat #2- Fancy Variety. They are too similar. Nivan had to headbutt him when they first met, and they did not trust each other in the least, but they just smiled and flirted as they circled each other warily those first few days/weeks. Unfortunately, he is extremely attractive. Even worse, he is aware of this fact. And even worse than both of those things, he has the same brand of gremlin humor that Nivan does. Extremely annoying, and extremely fun to annoy. Neither of them have expressed a sincere emotion for years. Neither of them will shut up. The worst dynamic duo you ever saw. They are in love despite their best efforts and it’s going to be everyone else’s problem.

Wyll: Easy Mark #2. More Rich Kid Vibes, but slightly more tolerable than Gale’s. He’s so painfully earnest it makes Nivan want to wince sometimes. Being honest is always hardest with people who are painfully honest. Gullible with a capital G. Can’t decide if he thinks the fact that Wyll has a hero name and a pose to go with it is delightful or ridiculous. He’s going to write him a theme song though.

Karlach: Best girl. Best friends. Lower class kids kicking ass and taking names. Loves her fire. Loves her fury. Loves her laughing at his dumbass jokes. She’s the first one to get up and dance to whatever music he might be playing in camp. Would let her hug him for a million years.

Halsin: He finds him generally calming to be around, and sort of gravitates towards him if he’s had a rough day. Low key dad vibes that are extremely confusing because he is also attractive. Would happily listen to him talk about trees for hours. Person he’s most likely to go to for advice.

Jaheira: Somehow she’s his mom now? He acts grumpy about it, but he secretly doesn’t mind. Enjoys riling her up. Enjoys it even more when he riles her up and somehow she blames it on Astarion being a bad influence.

Minsc: Honestly a bit baffled by him. Glad to have him on the team, but does not understand half the things that come out of his mouth. Privately devastated that he is incapable of understanding Boo.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #replies #Nivan #Thank you for sending me an ask #it's been 5 million yeeeears

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your-littlesecret · 1 year ago

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i am so late for this it isn’t even funny! i am sorry and thank you for the tag @hrhgeorgerussell 💕💕💕

name: jully

sign: cancer (i’ve heard so many people that like, know me say i don’t look even remotely like i am a cancer so.)

time: 14:02 exactly

favourite band / artist: there’s like, taylor swift at the very top and then a few 20km bellow there’s a very wide arrange of mostly brazilian artists (i am like, THE most basic bitch when it’s about international music. i like pop and the maine and we’ll- i guess that will be it.)

last movie: red white and royal blue

last show: good omens (s1: masterpiece!!! s2: reallyyyyyy good but it does look like something they created only to make money, which it is, considering only s1 was based on the book and- well, there’s no sequel to it)

when I created this blog: i think 2011?? i’ve been on tumblr for a long time and i’ve only ever had this blog and it changed fandoms and general interests with me

other blogs: boy, i can’t even manage 1 properly, how will i do with more???????

do I get asks: normally, never! — sometimes when i reblog one of those writing games and all from friends, ily all 💕💕

followers: i have like, 2k followers from all those years back, and most of them are ghosts now (there are some that have been abandoned for like, 10 years already?) so considering that, i have 7 💕💕 (i am joking, i didn’t count. but- it should be close to that number haha)

average hours of sleep: would be 12 if i could, but usually like 7? 8? i don’t know, i just go to sleep when i feel tired and wake up when my body wants to 🤷🏼‍♀️

instruments: took guitar classes for a while when i was younger but i kind of hated it?? i wanted to take piano, but idk why i couldn’t??

what I'm wearing: pijamas (a scooby doo set. i am ridiculous.) and i am barefoot bc i always am barefoot

dream job: right now???? an office job. what i wouldn’t give to stay seated behind a desk the whole day and not need to like, stand inside a ridiculously hot kitchen every single day, for 10 hours straight.

dream trip: iceland and maybe alaska

favourite song atm: work song by hozier (i am. not really good at keeping track of new songs. i just listen to the same old ones forever. unless it’s taylor swift hehe)

right, i think there’s no point in tagging anyone bc i’ve seen everyone do it already. sorry i’m late 😬

#bubbles posts #i was out of town and then i just- forgot????? 😬😬

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zjpg · 1 year ago

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idk if this is trauma-dumping. it might be so this is your warning ig lol. (mentions of weight (a lot), death, being left out, mean friends? idk it’s a lot i’m just ranting.)

EDIT. THIS IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF TRAUMA DUMPING AND TURNED OUT TO BE LONGER THAN EXPECTED I NEEDED TO LET SOME SHIT OUT.

idk why but i kinda realized that my personality is solely based off of my friends. like. idk. and i don’t necessarily enjoy my personality. i feel like i’m mean, annoying etc. and i think i realized this when i stayed away from my friends for a while. i went and loved with my grandparents for a while and i have like a completely different personality.

i just try to match my friend’s personality, or maybe it whoever i’m talking to or hanging out with. cause i’m hanging out with different friends today and tm and i feel different.

i love my friends. but sometimes i just want to be treated and perceived differently. idk i think it’s why i’ve been trying to shift and why i write fanfic. i kinda always dreamed of this main character persona ig. because idk if anyone knows this but i am overweight. i think on the bmi scale i’m borderline obese (which tbf the bmi scale is a piece of shit tbh - coming from someone who to a medical class for the last two years)

but yeah i’ve never been the skinny pretty friend. if you’ve ever heard the song “fat funny friend” that was basically me throughout my school years tbh. and in elem and middle school i had some friends that definitely gave me trauma because of how they treated me.

now my current friends are just kinda mean, maybe it’s more of one specific friend who i’ve had trouble with in the past. idk around her i can never just feel good about myself. and it’s clear that since i’ve last seen her, her values have changed. and idk it’s kinda hard to come to terms with that because we’ve been best friends for so long. i spent the entire pandemic with her (we literally lived together tbh. like if she wasn’t at my house i was at her and we couldn’t survive 24 hours without each other)

again it’s just sad to feel like i’m less than. esp having like, she struggles with her body image too. which i feel like most people do and that’s okay, and she is skinnier and i feel like if most people would see her they would compliment her for her body. nonetheless it’s very normal and acceptable for her to dislike her body. sadly it’s normal at least (because of unrealistic beauty standards) however. whenever she’s around me and our other friend (who’s smaller than me but still considered plus-mid-size? which we have talked about together many times because can understand each others struggles) anyway the first friend will always make comments like “i feel/look morbidly obese” “i look fat” etc. and again it’s valid to feel that way but at the same time when i (again borderline obese) look at myself and then her and she says that. i literally wanna crawl in a whole and never show myself to the human eye again

idk if that makes me sound like a bitch or selfish. but she knows i’m bigger, we’ve talked about it before. and when our other who (who has been working out and trying to better herself and her health) sent results of her past few months of working out, proud of herself. friend 1 came in sending a body pic of herself in workout clothes says she looks fat and i got so she has to go work out (or something like that) and that’s upsetting to us but especially friend 2 because she is just trying to be happy about her body but then friend 1 comes in and says that her body isn’t enough and she has to work out even tho her body compared to mine and friend 2 is amazing

and i don’t wanna sound like she can’t have insecurities or she can’t talk to us about her insecurities. she can. we always do (friend 2 and i) but i hate the way she (friend 1) talks about weight. and like. another thing. whenever someone annoys her or makes her mad she calls them fat. usually along the lines of “fat bitch” “fat ugly bitch” and she makes fun of their bodies. even if they have the most perfect body. and ofc with years of friendship, we’ve had times where we didn’t get along and when we were pissed at each other. so it makes me wonder what she has said about my body behind my back.

there was a time kinda recently where i got drunk and friend 2’s party and because of some event with friend 1 that happened in the earlier evening. i said some shit. i was black out drunk tbh, i don’t remember anything. but i remember some stuff. and i feel horrible for saying it. but when friend 1 and i talked about she was like. kinda being mean. which i completely understand. but she wasn’t letting me get my point across. she wasn’t hearing what i had to say. and she wasn’t validating any of my feelings that i clearly have been having for a long time (i never act like that when i’m drunk) and maybe i sound really bad here because i obviously did make a huge mistake that like still keeps me up at night even now (it’s literally 2 am). and i say there and i listened to what she said and i validated every fucking feeling she had just like i always do. but she didn’t care to listen to how i felt that night.

there’s so many instances that has happened to this one friend where she just talks and makes up excuses and demands that you validate how she feels without doing the same back. (because she’s not an angel either) there was a time where we were a group of 4 before we had a falling out with friend 3. and friend 1sts a whole group chat named “besties without lucie(me)” when all 4 of us had a gc called “besties”. and i didn’t know for months until friend 2 called me and told me everything. how they made plans without me had the gc without me. and anytime friend 2 would bring up my name friend 1 would make excuses as to why i “couldn’t come along”. i couldn’t be in their secret gc because i was “too sensitive” and her reasoning for not coming to outings was usually because i “said i was busy” (i was never asked if i wanted to hangout. i found out through snap and life 360 that they were out without me). she even used my aunts passing as an excuse as to why i couldn’t go. even tho when her grandma passed she came over to my house unannounced and me and my mom had to take care of her for days because she was so depressed.

i cried myself to sleep during those times. and because it was around christmas my mom let and my brother open gifts early in order to cheer me up and she would go out and hang out without me. and now i have such bad trust issues with not only that friend group but everyone around me. i hate being left out. i’ve always been left out like my whole life.

idk i just. i want nice people around me. i want people who validate me and my feelings and i want to be included for once in my life.

#just ranting #can you tell my therapist hasn’t talked to me in months ???#i just needs to let my feelings out somewhere #ignore this if you want #tell me if i’m wrong about something #educate me ??#ranting

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worldofroma · 1 year ago

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March 21 2023, Tuesday - 9:43

I don’t normally write journals. I hate having to keep up with my life in another form of simply living it. But now that I’ve started my co-op with the paper, I have nothing else to do than this or anaylising every single thing around me for the 40th time this hour. I want to be a writer of some sort when I’m older, I need to be.

I don’t like to be that person who self diagnosis themself to be a manipulative-sociopathic-150 IQ-bad ass who came straight out of an A24 film, but I know theres something going on thats not quite normal.

I don’t have any hobbies. I don’t do shit after school. I don’t even have a job at the moment. All I do is write and write and write about the weirdest, stupidest, saddest, most terrible things I can think of. The one problem I have with writing is designing my own characters. Earlier I mentioned that something was wrong with me, something undefinable, but there is one thing I have that I can guarantee is true. Maladaptive day dreaming. I live in a constant state of fantasy I’ve built since I was just a small kid, picking and choosing characters and plot lines and settings and etc from every piece of media I’ve ever seen. So when it comes to writing, I’m basically just writing fan fiction with my own plot and maybe a few of my own characters, but not many. I find it too much of a hassle to create them on my own, it’s like making your own children right form scratch. Why would I ever want to do that?

Speaking of A24 films, yes this is completely out of order I don’t give a shit, there is one movie of theres thats an absolute master piece and I can understand the main character completely. Pearl. A deranged girl living on an isolated farm in the early 1900’s, fully expecting to become a star in the pictures she sees when she’s able to sneak off to town and see them. Now I’m not saying im a killer or ever will be, but in the sense of wanting to becoming a “star”, I am exactly like her.

Right now, I can’t say my family life is satisfying. As a kid, it was 10x worse than now. I still don’t know the full story between my mother and father nor do I think I ever will, but I have bits and pieces that can give me more than I need. My father is mentally ill with something serious, he’s never been diagnosed to my knowledge but there something wrong with him. He was delusional and constantly making himself into the victim even if he was the one throwing things at my mother or shoving the couch over to toss her off of it while I was right there. From time to time, my mother will ask me if I remember any of this as it happened when I was only 6 years old and younger, but I always say no. I don’t want her to worry about him and what he’s done anymore than she has to. But I remember it all. I remember taking my baby brother to my room everytime I could sense his anger because I knew it would break into a fight and I knew he shouldn’t have to see that. Not as a 1 year old. I remember staying home all day with him while my mother was at work and crying while he slept on the couch all day, and crying even more when he screamed at me for wanting to be with my grandmother instead of him. But I know she wouldn’t ever fall asleep while watching me. I remember sitting on the porch while they fought and watching him leave in a fit of anger, kicking my german shepard right in the face purly because he felt like it. I remember the day we left and how he tried taking her purse and the keys to the car just so he could keep us held in that hell hole he called a home, but we left anyway. That was the last time I saw him. 6 years old was the last time I saw my father, I’m 17 now. My mother fills me in on what he’s been doing. In and out of jail, off and on hard drugs, harrasing my mother just because he wants to. He’s been doing all of this just 7 minutes away from where I live now, and I haven’t seen him once. His family used to continue welcoming us for holidays, playdates with my cousins, and check ups to see how we’re doing. But as time went on, the visits became limited to once every few months, once a year, to none at all. It wasn;t until recently that I figured out how much his family hated my mother, thinking she was the reason he did what he did, but I know that’s not true. My grandmother the most, as she babied her devil of a son and bailed him out of jail with money they didn’t have knowing damn well he’d get himself in trouble only days later every time. Whatever he has when it comes to mental illness was defintelly from her and whatever that is passed down to me. I know it. I hold a grudge against him and his family for what they did to my mother and I, but everyone says I shouldn’t hate him. I shouldn’t hate the man who ruined my life? The man who selfishly filled my childhood with abuse and trauma just because he wanted to? The man who gave me some unknown illness that I surpress everyday in hopes I never end up like him? I’ll hate whoever the fuck I want.

Now I hate to admit what I’m about to say next, but not only do I have daddy issues, I have family issues. Mommy issues, daddy issues, brother issues, the whole package deal.

After we moved away to start a new life without my father, my mother understandably struggled for quite some time to get back on her feet and continue on with her life. We lived in a total of 4 different apartments in the span of 5 years before finally moving into a real house, the same one I live in as I write this. The house I’ve never hated more in my life. Nobody takes care of their spaces, nobody owns up for anything they’ve done or caused, nobody gives a shit about anyone but themselves. It’s a constan disaster in the house whether it’s a pile of clothing sitting on the couch waiting to be folded (it’s been sitting there for 2 weeks), or cans and bottles scattered across the counter along with trash and an endless amount of dishes piling up after a single day I forget to do the dishes. Because of all this, I’ve developed a terrible habit of becoming as careless as everyone else. If I have to do my own laundry, why the hell should I do theirs? If they’re gonna trash the house while I’m away at a friends after leaving it spotless, why the hell should I clean it up? Because of this, it’s somehow rubbed off on my two cats and encouraged them to do the same. I’m the only one who feeds them, gives them water, switch out the litter boxes. So they’re constantly residing in my room and becoming fearful when my mother or brother even glance at them. Wow, the circle of life, eh?

Although I feel bad for my mother and what she’s gone through as well as what she continues to deal with everyday as a single mother, I can’t help but despise the way she raised me. After what happened with my father, something changed within her that I’ll never be able to define due to the fact that I was too young and naive to notice until it was too late. I don’t know if my mother ever wanted to be a mother. But she loves the idea of having a best friend. The only time she’s civil with me is when she’s acting like she’s my age, taking on the persona of a “cool mom”, a cool mom who opens a beer the second she gets home and lounges on the couch until, oh it’s bed time, put the kids to bed to resume my nap in my bed. She gossips with me, but she doesn’t listen to my real problems. She goes shopping with me, but I’ve been paying for my own clothes since I was 11. I never got to truly experience what it’s like to have a mother who loves you unconditionally without being yelled at or shunned or ridiculed. I can’t remember a time she’s ever held me while I cried, I was banished from sleeping next to her after a nightmare when I was 7, and there wasnt a single year that went by she wouldnt say: “You’re 10 years old, you should know how to do this!” “You’re 11 years old, you’re capable of doing it on your own!” “You’re 12 years old!” “You’re 13!” “Your 14!” “15! “16!” “17!”. All I ever wanted was to have support from someone, but that wasn’t made available to me and I was forced to grow up when I was still a child.

My brother and I have never gotten along either. We’re 5 years apart and polar opposites. For his sake, I’ll refer to myself as an emo in this situation because apparently that’s all I am to him. I’ll admit I went through an edgy phase just as every other teenager does at some point in their life, but I never knew that it would define me for the rest of my life, especially knowing it was 4 years ago now. I’m an emo, and he’s an ultimate hick. Greasy, untamed mullet, plaid shirts and jeans for days, cowboy boots that are 3 sizes too big, the whole 9 yards. You may be thinking that our appearances don’t define us and shouldn’t be what keeps us apart, but I can promise you that we live up to the name of our titles. And that means, we don’t get along one bit. The funny part is that I’ve given up fighting and defending myself against him long ago, but that doesn’t matter because since I’m the older sibling, I automatically did something wrong. He’s called me every name in the book, used every embarrassing thing I dwell on everynight before bed against me, makes fun of how I look and act, to the point that to him I’m nothing but insecurity. My mother gave up mothering him long ago when it comes to taking care of him, but continues taking his side on everything he needs her to. Because of how often I reside in my room for obvious reasons, I fail to recognize what the plans are of people in the house and what’s going on with them. Theres been countless times I’ve left for a drink or something to eat just to find my 12 year old brother alone on the couch with his phone in his hand, facing the cushions and becoming one with his social media. I feel awful for him. I’m supposed to be there for him when my mothers not, but communication doesn’t exist in my house which leaves my brother to be on his own much too often. The only problem is how much I hate him. I’ve done everything I can to get along with him during these small spans of time we have to spend time alone together while we wait for my mother to take my place, but it’s insufferable. I can’t go 5 minutes with him without being told I’m stupid, ugly, emo, or simply being told to shut up after I’ve said nothing but “hey”. I’ve told my mother about this before, but she doesn’t intervene. She doesn’t care. I don’t have any other choice but to hate him. He’s never done anything for me thats relatively memorable unless it’s to hurt me in someway and I can’t say I’m a saint because obviously I don’t let everything slide, but I can promise I’d be much kinder to him if he’d show the same respect for me.

I think the real problem is something I can’t put my finger on or give a name to. You know, the funny thing is that I looked just like my mother. I’m practically a younger version of her. But whatever my father passed down to me ruined it all and bled into the rest of my personality, giving me the ability to look at her the same way he did. I’ll never forgive him for that. However, my brother looks just like my dad, indisinguishable, if he doesn’t wear his glasses. My father had the audacity to spread the rumour that my brother wasnt his child when he was born. Anyways. He looks just like my father and has a bit of his rotten personality too, but my mother doesnt care. She only sees the sweetness in him that she saw in my father before he ruined her life. Living in my house is like being apart of a girl trio, theres always a pair of best friends and the others always left out without them even realizing.

Now before you come to any wild conclusions, no I’m not depressed. Yes, I lounge around in my room for majority of the day and isolate myself from others any possible time I can, but I’m an introvert. I don’t wallow around when I’m on my own or lay in a pool of my own tears or wish I was back in my bed when I’m with my friends, I just hate to socialize when I don’t need to. My family life may be unsatisfying, but it’s not depressing. It’s annoying and frustrating and maddening, but not depressing. On another note, I do have anxiety. I have terrible anxiety. If I could read peoples minds, I swear all my problems would be solved. Every second of the day I worry about what I look like, what I’m saying, what I’m doing, how I’m presenting myself, why someone gave me a weird look, how I’m eating my food, was my laugh embarrassing? Does this shirt make me look washed out? Is my face lopsided? Is my hair too short? Does my smile look too big or cartoonish? Did I crack my knuckles too loud? Is my mascara smearing? Why did my throat make that noise? Did anyone notice? They’re definitely thinking about that coffee order I messed up 4 months ago. Ha, that was something that bothered me WAY too much. I was a newly hired barista and working on my own when two girls came in with an order of 5 different drinks, all of which I had no clue how to make yet. I scrambled to make them as good as I could without looking at my phone to seem unprofessional and ended up messing them all up. The cherry on top, though, was how they mentioned these drinks were going to a bride and her bridesmaids as they got ready for their wedding that was taking place that afternoon. Worst of all, when they pointed to the one for the bride, it was the one most terribly made. An iced coffee, coffee that I put a few ice cubes in. I hope that the girls ' wedding went fantastic.

Back on the topic of anxiety, you can see now that my entire life has been overtaken by my thoughts and apperance that no matter how hard I try, I simply can’t berid these awful thoughts. Just another thing to add to the list is how I was diagnosed with scoliosis last year. Now not only am I too skinny, but my curves are uneven and I look like I jumped out of one of those fun house mirrors. Fun.

While I was growing up, I had a friend group of 4 girls. I won’t include their names but we’ll call them Kaily, Hannah, and Kyra. Kyra was my best friend since grade 2, we were inseperable for years. We were so alike my mother often asked how we even got along because of it, but we managed to push our way through elementary school by each others side. Now Kyra and Kaily had known each other much longer than any of us, their mothers were good friends and basically raised their kids together. Eventually, I became friends with Kaily too, but never too close until grade 4 or 5. It was us 3 for a few years and we were still young enough to survive a trio without any of us being left out or feeling like shit around each other, so it went fine. Anyhow, I’m not sure how we became friends but Hannah and I eventually began hanging out all the time and became good friends. And I’m sure the three of them would disagree entirely on this next part but I swear to god I’m the one who bought the group together. I knew all three of them, I always put in the effort to have us together for a weekend or sleepover, and I simply don’t remember it being any other way. But for legal reasons, I could be wrong. The 4 of us were friends all through elementary after that, a good 4 years at least. Kyra and Kaily were a year younger than Hannah and I, but that didn’t matter. Until we got to high school. I’ll admit that as a tween, I had issues figuring out who I wanted to be, how I wanted to act, or what my style was, and I assumed everyone else went through that awkward stage. But as high school approached, it became obvious to me that they thought differently of me. It was almost as if I was an inside joke for them, but I just couldn’t tell. Grade 9 rolled around and I began making new friends, making new groups, reconnecting with the kids I knew from my first school, and finally beginning to feel comfortable with myself. But high school treats kids like me terribly. I said earlier that I was an introvert, but I wasn’t always like that. I used to be the girl everyone wanted to be friends with until I moved. I was creative and funny and always made the best games to play at recess. I found it difficult to find that part of myself again after being bullied, but eventually did in grade 6 or 7. But then COVID hit and gave me no choice but to isolate myself just as puberty was kicking in. Could the timing have been any worse? I tried to become who I was again, but the kids in my classes began to tell me how loud and annoying I was, that I just needed to settle down stop being so “cringe”. That was what ruined me. Quarantine was on and off from there and completely destroyed my ability to interact with others and I basically shut down afterwards. I’ll never be the same person I was then. And of course, that altered the way I was looked at within my friend group of 4. They began to take note of the way I was finally discovering my sense of style and my new personality and they didn’t like it. In my town, if you’re not a walking ad for Lululemon, you’re not cool. So no matter how much effort I put into the 4 of us hanging out together or going out for lunch or having a sleepover, I’d always catch them hanging out without me purposely and “forgetting to invite me”. It made me feel awful about myself and at that point, I had totally forgot how to make new friends. Nobody wanted to be my friend anyways because I was different. I wasn’t a copy and paste of all the other girls around. That is, until I became friends with a girl in my geography of grade 9. To this day, I think we can both agree that we’re the same person in two different bodies. At one point, I had ruined it with my pettiness and naive personality that caused us to fall out for around a year, but we eventually became friends again and we are to this day. And for Hannah, Kyra, and Kaily, well they’re all still friends and I guess we talk time to time but you can tell there’s an unspoken grudge between us that couldn’t be spoken out loud because there would be nothing to say. It’s just there.

There was an instance though that made me lose all respect I had for them in a split second, but still somehow managed to put up with them for a year afterward. It was new years of 2022 and I was finally able to go out and party with them. It was us 4 and another girl, lets call her Myia, and thank the gods Myia was there. She’s a saint, we don’t talk much anymore but I like to think we’re on good terms. I hope so. Anyways, new years 2022, we go to a party 20 minutes from home with a taxi set up to take us there and back. We’d stay a little over an hour past midnight and head back to my house for the night. It would be great, right? Wrong, so wrong. I’ve never had a night go so horribly so fast. We had all bought our own drinks, smirnoff coolers and lots of sour puss, typical teenager drinks, as well as a weed pen. Weed is legal in Canada by the way, legal. SO we get there and realize the party is in the middle of a field. A field. In Ontario. In the midst of the winter. Greaaaat. I did my best to enjoy it and for the most part I did, until I realized that my converse had turned into cinderblocks from the mud encapsulating them and freezing up everytime I went to the bush to pee. It was around 11:30 when I was already on the edge of a black out. I was crossed, cold, and tired out. And at the brink of the night, I dropped my phone on the cement and broke it. A black line covered a fourth of the screen and I knew damn well I wouldn’t be getting a new phone for at least a year until my plan was up. It didn’t take very long for the drinks to go from Linsday Lohan partying and laughing to Lana Del Rey sobbing over everything going wrong. Myia and I sat on the porch of this random guy's house while we tried to find a way home, but it was new years, nobody could drive. So there I was, sobbing my eyes out, drunk, high, cold, with a broken phone in hand and at a house I didn’t even recognize. I thought the second the rest of my group found us, they’d figure out a way to contact the taxi to pick us up and we could head home early. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as they found us, the first thing I heard was, “Oh my god, I knew this was gonna happen.” I will forever remember those words as I had then realized I had just ruined their New Years and they’ll probably stay mad at me forever. For those of you who’ve seen Euphoria, if you can recall the scene where Cassie threw up all over the hot tub and immediately rambled out a series of apologies while crying her eyes out, then you can perfectly picture what I had become after hearing that. I cried and cried and cried for an hour until the taxi finally came to pick us up and take us home. And if you can believe it, the worst part hadn’t even occurred yet.

The taxi we took was a van, Myia and I sat in the two middle seats while Kyra, Hannah, and Kaily sat in the back row. Hannah will forever deny this but she was notoriously known for throwing up while being drunk. For the entirety of the 20 minute drive, Hannah was in the back seat throwing up into one of the two backpacks we brought to the party. I despise hearing, seeing, smelling, or throwing up myself, so the car ride was absolute hell. Not only that, but I too was known for getting carsick, so for the duration of the trip, I spent it by keeping my head between my legs to avoid looking out the window with my hands over my ears to prevent the sound of Hannah vomiting only a foot or two behind me reminding me of what was going on. 15 minutes pass and we’re finally approaching town. My stomach was not happy with me and I knew the second I got home I’d be glued to that toilet for the next hour throwing up my guts, all I had to do was wait until I got home. I didn’t even have to be inside, I just had to be out of the taxi. The entrance the taxi driver took into town was the worst way he could’ve gone, a twisty downhill drive going at LEAST 120 km. At that point, I had accepted my fate and held my hands over my mouth because at any point this van would become a scene from the exorcist. Thankfully, my house was only a minute or two away from the bottom of the hill and I was so glad to look out the window and see that we were approaching my street. But I swear something possessed me as the taxi driver had said something I couldn’t believe he’d even say.

“I hope nobody’s throwing up back there, this is my bosses vehicle.” All hell broke loose. I actually have no clue how I was even capable of throwing up so much, I’m positive I exploded when I heard him speak. One second, everything was calm and he had finally parked the car, and the next second, an endless amount of liquor and all the food I ate within the last week poured through the cracks of my hands, across my lap, covering the back of the drivers seat, my seat, the ground around me. Absolutely everywhere. All while being parked in my fucking driveway. Best part is, I have a distinct memory of reaching for the other bag to throw up the rest in, but the next morning all I found in the bag was empty cans. There was vomit completely covering the front of the bag, but not a drop inside. That was the last time I ever got drunk and got in a car.

#journaling #literature #aspiring writer

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kdipshit · 2 years ago

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Well I Got The Thing I Needed, I Guess…

I have to learn to do everything my own way, as doing something with someone else’s perspective is just not possible. I have to be difficult all the time huh…

My body stays the same even tho it feels like my brain switches. Perspectives change. Beliefs. Realisations. Like the person I was 1 hour ago was dark and gloomy and quick to anger. irritated. But BPD irritation. I wanted to turn into a tornado and rip thru my entire house taking everyone up in it. Lol. Jk. But fr… and the person I am now is nothing like that. I don’t even think that way at all, why would I even want to it sounds like a war zone over there. Lets remember the parts of ourselves that occupy the body when the body is feeling so dark. She’s still us. Thats still me. Lol how do I say that? Im still me. Thats better. Im so sick of these walls in my brain keeping me from the other sides of myself, I can’t stay in the dark space for very long without scratching my way out. And its painful. Am I supposed to stay in that feeling until it passes? Coz sometimes it feels like it doesn’t fucking end, so I grab my bong and then I’m better. But weed is limited. Sometimes I think ill be better if I was just on the right meds. Im still very upset about my psych trip. And it makes me feel so discouraged to even continue trying…. But. I will keep trying. As long as I have weed to lean on, I’m straight as. But I’m not ignoring the darkness by trying to feel better. I can look at it in another perspective. I gotta do better. I gotta do better. The bruised knuckles do give me character tho. I should message A more quickly next time, she really did an amazing job at switching my perspective, its like she knows exactly how to talk to me. Im so grateful.

+ the weed makes me write better. Its easier to write down the thoughts… I found myself sounding like my hippie ass aunty telling my little sister that thoughts become things lol. Its such a shame that I’m actually crazy because no one really believes me lol. thoughts do become things tho, she was right, I just didn’t see the bigger picture, and I guess no one ever really will until they can for themselves. THANK YOU FOR PAIN. You give your shadow self love by learning how to thank the pain, and the hard journey, and the sleepless nights and teary eyes. Learning better methods, keeping yourself out of thought loops by treating every single day as brand new. Realising no ones got a problem with me lol. Im not a problematic person.

anyways…. Whats been going on wed chyall? Lol imagine all that trauma dumping and then I sip my tea. Your turn aunty. I’m always trine rush finish something because the act of doing something for too long freaks me out. Thats gotta be that ADHD hoe, which will be fixed if I fkn get my right meds bro wtf!!! D: like so much of my problems would be fixed if I just had the fun goddamn meds Jesus FUCK. Is it that hard around here? They think imma pill popper bro won’t even give me valium anymore, dogs. No fkn wonder why I’m smoking like smokey mother fucker, my shits al the way fucked up my boy. Give me the fucking pills lmaoooo. And up them anti-psychotics while your at it lmaoooo.

Does anyone else have conversations with other people in your head? Thats a normal thing right? Well the convos in my head are too quick to for me to write down, but they be having me fucked up on some different shit. I just did it, I just stopped a bad thought for manifesting bigger and replaced it with a better one AS SOON as it appeared. Sometimes I’m not quick enough and it catches me instead. I sat with myself today, I don’t even remember what I wrote in the ideation one. But I remember what mindset I was in, I’m curious to see how honest with myself I was. I can be honest with myself right now and day I don’t think I did good enough. There were times where I was thinking I really don’t wanna do this anymore. I forgot what I needed to remember, which was to redirect all go those feelings into positive ones, I know these things, but at some point, every emotion on peak feels the same, so I was historically crying on the way home, recklessly, because I forgot to remind myself, to switch the thought, look at everything else thats good, and setback or something super annoying happening is because your energy is needed elsewhere!! Butterfly effect, nothing in the end is bad. Its just a redirection, stop being so controlling, and let it be, let it flow, while you only control yourself, your reactions and your thoughts. Thoughts determine emotions, and emotions are my kryptonite.

The problem is my thought patter, and how it recycles the same 10-30 sentences over and over again. Some fkn crazy delulu, some that genuinely make sense cuz, and then the same normal other shit, right???? lol. Idk what I’m saying anymore but sometimes I ramble write (all the time) and I read it back and its dope as fuck and I actually make sense.

My poor knuckles are busted all because I knocked and no one answered. Well nah fuck, it was that, and then it was the non answered door last week too, its the non answered phone calls its the non answered emails like broooo. Should not be this hard to see a psychiatrist in my city I swear to god. Without weed I’m completely self destructive, I need to build my strength on my other positive coping mechanisms because typing really hurts. And I love to write. Self destructive me is very overwhelmed and unsure how to untangle everything so everything comes out as a big fat cry.

#blogging #new blog #mental health #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing

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batsandbugs · 2 years ago

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Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System

IKEA Verse

AN: Hey look, I'm back!!! I hope you guys are ready for this next part of the IKEA Verse. It's a three-parter from Bruce's POV. I had so much fun with this and am glad to be back writing for this universe. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Staring out across a purple and umber field, three moons hanging low on the horizon, and an approaching alien army marching ever closer from a distance, Bruce feels a headache forming along the base of his skull.

And he’s very sure it’s not because of the army.

Normally, he keeps his emotions as dampened as possible, especially while in the suit, but it’s only him, Clark, and Diana standing guard in this watchtower. He hasn’t slept more than twelve hours in the past four days, and he deserves to grumble a bit about an impending stress headache.

He pulls down his cowl, rubbing aching temples with glove-clad hands.

“You feeling okay?” Clark asks, like the mother hen he pretends not to be.

“No,” Bruce grunts.

“It’s only an army, gentlemen. We’ve faced worse before,” Diana says from her seat. She repetitively, one might almost say nervously, sharpens a pair of knives Bruce swears were already so finely edged they could cut air, but he won’t mention that to the armed warrior princess.

“I’m not worried about the army. We’ll be fine.” Bruised, battered, and bloodied perhaps, but they’ll be fine.

Clark tilts his head, looking like a human, non-yellow version of Big Bird. “So why the headache?”

Bruce sighs. “My children are doing something stupid.”

Clark and Diana look at him askance.

He has categories for his headaches. They are all distinct, so much so he named them according to the type of situations they arise from. The Situation-has-gone-to-shit headache, the Joker-has-escaped-Arkham-again headache, or, a personal favorite, the Press-are-being-stupid headache.

This particular headache is a slow build. Bubbling at the base of his neck and slithering its way into his temples. It pounds in time to his heart and sends a feeling of nausea down his gullet.

It’s his My-children-have-done-something-stupid-and-the-consequences-have-spiraled-out-of-control headache.

It was one he was very familiar with.

“How- but… they’re on Earth,” says Clark in confusion. “Did you get like, a text or something?”

“No,” Bruce says plainly. His headaches never lie. He bet if he calls right now, they would either not pick up at all, or they would, and utter chaos would be occurring on his home planet more than several million miles away. Where he can’t do anything.

This is why the headache warning is completely impractical and unneeded.

“Then how do you know?” Diana asks.

“I always know.” They’ve worked with him for long enough, they should already know this.

Clark shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t believe you about the headache B, but isn’t it more likely it’s just from stress and lack of sleep. None of us are as young as we used to be.”

“Speak for yourselves, mortals,” Diana says with a half-hearted smile. Her immortality was an ever-lingering shadow over her friendships. It didn’t stop her from making friends though.

“Well, we can’t all be perfect immortal warrior princesses,” Clark responds with a smile. He places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze. A silent acknowledgment they were all still there. Together.

For now.

Bruce shoots them both an unimpressed stare. “If it was just from stress and sleep deprivation I would be able to handle it.” Plus, that headache is completely different from this one, he knows what his Lack-of-sleep-too-much-stress headache feels like, but this isn’t it. “No, it’s specifically the headache I get when my children are causing problems.” He sighs, pulling out his interstellar communicator. He really should focus on the approaching alien army, but he can at least set the groundwork for dealing with whatever problem has arisen when he gets back.

He shoots Alfred a text letting him know about the headache, and to locate his children as soon as possible.

Had he known this would be the case all those years ago when he first adopted Dick… well, he still probably would have done it. He loves all his kids to the moon and back. Headaches and all.

“I don’t get headaches about my kids,” Clark grumbles. He pauses, thinking. “At least not before I’m sure they’re causing trouble.”

“That’s because your kids don’t cause trouble the same way mine do,” says Bruce, thinking of the unique and eclectic skill sets each of his children possessed. Yes, much more potential danger-making than two kids with superpowers. “I need the early warning system.”

A screeching alarm sounds on one of the monitors. Bruce checks it. The approaching army’s scouting parties finally arrive in range of their volleying.

“Ready?” he asks, pulling up his cowl. All frustrations and weaknesses melting away. This is serious.

Diana stands, sheathing the knives, and poses herself to leap into action. “Verily. Let’s show this scum who not to mess with.”

Clark comes over and places a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You sure you’ll be good?” Bruce only gives a silent glare back. He’s fought on broken bones and with poison running through his veins. A headache is child’s play. “Alright, alright just making sure. Let’s get this over with and get home, so you can deal with whatever mess your children have created.”

“Perhaps, it won’t be so bad,” muses Diana, winding up her lasso, as their first enemy comes into range. “Your children are smart and creative warriors. Certainly, they can rescue themselves out of whatever trouble they’ve risen.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about them getting out of trouble,” says Bruce. He’s trained them better than that. “I’m worried about anyone else who might get caught up in the chaos.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Clark reassures. “They’re good kids.” He shoots down an enemy drone ship with a blast of laser vision. “What’s the worst they could do?”

Another shiver rolls down Bruce’s spine. Oh, he’s sure it could get very, very bad. After all, he’s trained them. But considering a giant alien tank, covered in spikes, and lobbing explosive mortars drops down thirty feet away, he feels Clark’s last comment, in all its misguided naiveté, deserves to go unanswered.

He’ll deal with whatever chaos his children have concocted when he’s back on earth.

0o0o0o0o0 (line break) 0o0o0o0o0

A day and a half later the aliens are defeated and the reigning government properly reinstated. The Justice League, given their due thanks and medical assistance, board back onto their ship and settle in for a long interstellar trip back to the Watchtower. By the time medical clears him, Bruce is barely able to keep his eyes open. When he finally beams down from the Watchtower, it is so late it’s inching on early.

Thankfully, no one’s in the cave when he arrives. His chest is bandaged, and his concussion is minor, but he’s in no mood to deal with people. He strips out of his suit and takes a hot shower. The cave’s water pressure hits the right spot on his sore and battered body. Once finished, he retrieves a pair of comfy clothes stashed in his locker, and downs a handful of extra-strength pain meds from the med bay.

He glances back at the computer. Once upon a time; ten, even five years ago maybe, he'd seat himself down and work till the sun came up. Checking and double-checking all the going-ons in his city until he was sufficiently informed. Now though he can't even begin to muster up the energy to care. He knows his children, for all that they might have caused problems he'll have to deal with once he's more awake, will have handled everything. If this city's not on active fire (which it isn't, Bruce did check that) it can wait till tomorrow.

Or, well, later today.

Bruce ambles over to the elevator.

He sighs once the doors close, slumping against the metallic interior. A hand run across his still-damp hair hits the bump that caused the concussion; he winces. Every twinging bruise splayed across his body throbs in a synchronous agonizing orchestra. He’s been in far more extensive pain than this, more times than he can count on all the fingers and toes of his adopted children, but for some reason, he needs the elevator wall to keep himself standing.

Clark was right. They weren’t getting any younger.

Retirement was in his future soon. If he wasn’t dead before then.

But the mission continued, as it always did, and until Bruce could no longer rise to meet it, he would continue to fight.

But for now; sleep and extra strength pain meds.

He barely remembers walking down the corridors to his room, much less falling face first into his bed. By the time his head hit the pillow, he is fast asleep.

0o0o0o0o0 (line break) 0o0o0o0o0

Morning comes all too early.

It also comes with an unexpected wake-up call.

“Rise and shine, Master Bruce,” says a suspiciously smug voice. Bruce groans at the sound and shoves a pillow over his face as Alfred throws open the heavy brocade curtains letting in a stream of mid-summer sunlight enter his room.

“What have I done to deserve this betrayal?” Bruce hisses, brain entirely too foggy to recall if he’d done something to piss Alfred off before he left for space.

“This isn’t betrayal Master Bruce. It’s eleven-thirty and high time for your day to begin.” Bruce hears Alfred puttering around his room like a well-practiced dance.

“I just fought an army to a standstill and prevented a terrorist coup on an alien planet. Can’t I just skip existing today?” Bruce feels that is more than fair. He would like to continue sleeping.

“I’m afraid opting out of consciousness is an unfeasible course of action for you today, dear boy. However, I did bring you breakfast if you’d like to pry yourself out of bed long enough to enjoy it.” Alfred’s voice is calm and steady. The elderly butler doesn’t allow food in bed. Ever. So, breakfast in your room is as close to breakfast-in-bed that the residents of Wayne manor get.

Bruce peaks his head out from under the pillow. Sure enough, Alfred has a breakfast platter set up over at his seating nook. Fresh fruit, a fluffy omelet, steaming blueberry scones, and a piping hot French press full of pitch-black coffee.

Oh.

Oh no.

Bruce’s sleepiness evaporates in an instant. “I don’t get breakfast in my room unless I’m sick or dying, and since the Watchtower med bay cleared me, I’m currently neither of those things.” A familiar pounding pain, this time manifesting right behind his eyes and seeping outward takes up residence in his head. Bruce closes his eyes and rubs at the lids with his thumb and pointer finger.

This is his Alfred-is-about- to- give-me-bad-news headache.

He takes a deep breath, braces himself, and asks, “How bad is it?”

The elderly man doesn’t turn around, continuing to straighten the objects on the platter. It’s his own form of fidgeting. “I also have yesterday’s newspaper available for you to peruse.”

Bruce groans, smacking his head against the headboard. “The newspaper? They managed to get themselves in the fucking newspaper!”

He loves his children.

He swears he does.

But he is absolutely gonna wring their necks.

“In or out of masks?” he asks, dreading the answer. Maybe it’s in masks. Maybe he can manage the fallout without having to resort to press conferences, official statements, or-

“You have several missed calls from Wayne Enterprise’s PR team.”

“Fuck.”

“Verily.”

Throwing off the covers, Bruce doesn’t bother to hide a wince as sore feet hit wooden floors. He treads to the sitting area, draping his Batman-themed dressing gown – Dick’s most recent Christmas gift – over his clothes. Laying himself across the chaise lounge, he snags a blueberry scone and stuffs it into his mouth.

Alfred sits opposite, in the chair on the other side of the coffee table, and pours himself a cup of tea.

Years ago, the proper uptight butler would never have broken propriety to sit with his charge and eat. But at this point; he’s raised Bruce, grandparented seven traumatized children to adulthood – despite several dying and resurrecting, along the way- kept a manor house running by himself on nothing but spite and dedication alone, became the equivalent of a triage medic with the amount of stitching and emergency surgery done over the years, and been the sole voice of reason for a house full of over-dramatic-theatre-kids-turned-vigilantes.

He adds two lumps of sugar to his tea and offers Bruce the newspaper with an unreadable face.

There are a few moments of silence as Bruce scans the words, digesting the story laid out in black and white on the pages.

“An IKEA?”

“Yes sir.”

“And whose grand idea was that?”

“I believe Master Richard’s.”

Bruce sighs. The headache intensifies.

“What were they trying to accomplish?”

“A good old-fashioned game of hide-and-seek.”

Bruce shook the paper. “How does hide-and-seek turn into property damages, worker strikes, and-” he squints at the paper. “Ball pit insurrections!”

“I’m afraid you will have to hear the entire story from the children Master Bruce, I’m not sure I could do the tale justice.”

Bruce narrows his eyes, now Alfred is just being cagey.

“Security threw them out?”

Alfred sips his tea. “No, they insisted they left voluntarily. Although, all but Damian are now banned from every IKEA on the eastern seaboard, and Master Timothy has spent the past day and a half fielding media outlets and assessing the amount of compensation this incident will require to quietly smooth over.”

Rolling his eyes, Bruce says, “This is going to fuel media speculations for weeks. Quiet is not on the books.” He grabs another scone but stops halfway to his mouth. Rereads the article. “Damian’s not mentioned.”

“No, he’s not.”

“He’s not banned like his brothers.”

“No, he’s not.”

Alfred’s face is very still.

“Alfred…”

“The children, Master Bruce.” Alfred insists again. “I assure you; you’ll want to hear the full recounting of their shenaniganry from them.”

Bruce sighs, again. “The girls would never do this to me. The girls would never get involved in something like this.”

“No…” Alfred says, slowly, reaching for a scone. Bruce covers his face with his hands and leans back against the lounge, the dull throb behind his eyes accosting his brain full force. “If you turn to page four, you’ll see a local pet shop was uncovered as a front for the Russian mob. Spoiler and Black Bat were instrumental in helping the police smoke out the perpetrators. Less helpful would be the subsequent three-hour car chase across the southern half of the city, but that’s neither here nor there.” He picks up the French press. “Coffee, Master Bruce?”

Bruce wishes he was back in space fighting the alien army.

AN: Alright that's the end of chapter 1. Should have the next one out sometime Monday. I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you all for your wonderful comments and reblogs over the past few days. It warms my heart and makes me giddy with joy how many of you love this silly little series. I hope that this can brighten your day as much as you brighten mine.

If you want to read this on ao3 you can click here!

(Pst... If you think I'm great and my writing is entertaining, maybe check this out!)

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #the great ikea game #the ikea verse #damientte #damianette

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ravynous · 2 years ago

Text

sweet pea — a tender moment。

▌| character/s: noelle, la signora ▌| description: scenarios of the ladies showing you affection and a few relationship headcanons ▌| warning/s: mentions of sickness (noelle’s part), implied employer-worker relationship (la signora); nothing n/sfw though ▌| author’s note: this is super self-indulgent, and i really missed writing for my fandoms. here’s my contribution for @ghostly-march ‘s event, “600 flowers for hu tao”! (also posting this at 1 AM, i apologize for any mistakes) ▌| link/s: masterlist

Noelle

A dull throb in your head made your brows furrow in pain – the thrumming beneath your skull waking you from a deep slumber. Your body feels heavy too, with something laying on your midsection. Feeling around to remove the object proves successful, as your fingers graze over an… arm?

Noelle stirs awake when she notices you move, hands immediately encasing yours. They’re still unusually warm, she notes. She can’t control the way worry grips her heart, because sickness is one of the things, she’s unable to rid of immediately – Noelle could only alleviate your pain.

She keeps her voiced hushed, fearing that a sudden loud sound would worsen your headache. “Good morning, my rose. How was your rest? I’ll fetch you a glass of water right away.”

Instead of letting her leave, you reach out and tug at her arm – Noelle barely having the chance to catch herself. “Stay,” you murmur, voice scratchy after hours of no use.

Her hands – calloused and rough as they may be from her daily work – remained tender. Noelle raises one of your hands and kisses the back of it.

“As you wish.”

Noelle always removes her armor whenever she’s with you. She prefers the warmth you radiate – similar to a hearth in a winter night, ever-giving of light and chases away the biting cold.

She has abs, by the way. If you put your head on her stomach it’s rock hard, not even as a joke, she’s just Built Like That™.

Noelle’s cheeks are SO SOFT, and she doesn’t mind you affectionately squeezing them. You’ll quickly notice her blushing if you start fawning over how adorable she is, even hiding behind her hands when she’s too flustered.

With her vision being geo, her body temperature is fairly normal. This means that your cuddle sessions are rarely interrupted by weather changes.

Her hugs are firm, but never suffocating. With her golden-laced white armor, it can often be uncomfortable – which is why she prefers it to be off when showing you affection. Your comfort is her top priority.

No matter your height, she prefers it when your arms lay on her shoulders. That way, she can sweep you off your feet (literally), if needed.

If you’re sick, she caters to your every need until you fall asleep, and that’s the only time she’ll leave the room to finish all her tasks in record speed. She sits beside your bed, diligently waking you up in time for your medicine and dipping the wet towel into a small basin of water.

Sudden hugs are welcomed by Noelle. Even if she’s carrying heavy crates, she’ll attempt to shift them onto one arm to try and accommodate you. If she can’t, she slightly tilts her forehead towards you – shyly beckoning for a kiss instead.

La Signora

A light touch on your head breaks you out of your focus, and wisps of smoke – steam, you realize, enters your peripheral view as La Signora places a mug in front of you.

“You’ve been away from bed for a while,” she whispers, accompanying it with a kiss of greeting to your cheek. Her fingers move from their position on your tresses, a hint of frost blooming on your skin as she traces a shape on your shoulder.

There’s an endless pile of documents that littered your table. Being her secretary meant receiving an ungodly amount of workload, especially since your lover tends to move swiftly in her missions. And she understands. However, rarely does she ever see you free from work.

La Signora easily lifts you from your chair and settles you on her lap. A command is whispered in your ear, as she lays her head on your back afterwards.

“Continue, my butterfly. Do not let my presence distract you.”

Most of her greetings are conveyed through kisses – on your forehead (anywhere on your face, really), hands, neck– you’ll get used to it.

Do you know how Elsa has gloves to keep her powers in check? Signora’s similar to her in that regard. The main difference is that La Signora knows and is fully capable of controlling her cryo delusion, but she still wears gloves when she’s with you as a precaution.

No matter what attempt you try at hugging her, you’ll always end up in a single position – you on her lap, with her arms around you. Doesn’t let go for a LONG time, unless work matters need her immediate attention. If she can keep you on her lap while reading through documents, Signora will do that.

(Also, I headcanon Signora to be as tall as Lady Dimitrescu – who is more than 9 feet tall. I don’t care about her canon height.)

Despite that, she won’t let you inside of her office if she’s meeting with another harbinger. She doesn’t want you engaging with them at all, plus she wants to keep their relationship strictly professional and keep her lover out of their prying eyes. The only ones you’ve formally met is the Tsaritsa and Pierro.

There can be days, weeks, even months without you seeing Signora. So, whenever she goes home, she heads straight to your shared room and invites you to relax with her. Hearing your voice and watching you talk about your daily activities when she’s gone is her newfound stress relief.

▌| written by RAVYNOUS — please do not copy, edit, screenshot, or repost any of my works. Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated.

#✦ 𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐬「my writing」#600 flowers for hu tao #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #noelle x reader #la signora x reader #signora x reader

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unluckilyimnot · 3 years ago

Note

Helloo!! Could you possibly write a part 2 to your rindou angst marriage fanfic u wrote? You could write about slowburn,angst,fluff,however you want to continue with it! I just wanna hear more of your thoughts abt it cuz it's been my fave fic these days and i keep reading it every time i need some inspiration 👉👈

Hiiii I can absolutely do that (even if i took forever to do so) I'm really happy to see that you thought that much about it and hope it's not to late haha Thank you sm !

type: slow burn (ig), fluff

Words count: 4.7k || Pt.1 || Pt.3

note: I can’t count the number of mental breakdown I got bc of this. I never ever wrote slow burn and then suddenly I’m doing one with an awful base, great idea Mia. Anyway, here’s my first slow burn (if it can be considered as one), hope it’s not too bad for the time it took.

I would really appreciate feedback back for this one so feel free to comment or send a message, thank you !

Rindou was thinking a lot since the last time you two argued. It wasn't the first time for you to take care of him like this, but neither of you ever speak your heart like this and he has to admit that his mind didn't want to let it go. The way your hand was so gentle towards him, patting his cheek as if he was still a kid. It's been a long time since you did that and, this time, he could remember your touch on his skin without hating it. It's been what, one or two weeks now ? He couldn't understand why he wasn't getting over it yet. It was poisoning his brain. Overthinking the whole situation like he never did before. Was it because he was too angry to face it before ? Or just to try to know you ? This was messing with his mind and he doesn't like it at all. It never was important, you never were, so why now he was thinking about how dirty he did you ? That was pure nonsense. Just like you.

"Rindou are you listening?" Ran's voice rises and Rindou lifts his head. "Yes, I am," answers Rindou but his lost eyes show that, in fact, he wasn't at all. Shaking this whole situation out of his mind for the next few hours. He was worried that this would take too much space when he had to work but at the same time, he couldn't find a way to resolve it. So he'll ignore it til the end of the day or Ran would kill him if he has to call him out one more time.

Ran obviously noticed how his brother's behavior changed since that night but he just couldn't figure out what happened since Rindou doesn't talk to him about it. Which he finds weird in the first place because they usually talk about everything together. He was curious to know what was happening to his brother. As the two of them go on their meeting, someone suddenly comes inside after a firm knock. The two Haitani were sending daggers to them for this audacity but cut it out when they saw a pretty woman enter the room.

Leaving for work this afternoon, you noticed a pile of files on the kitchen's table as you passed by to take something to eat on the way. Seeing your last name on it, you assumed that it was Rindou’s files and that he forgot it this morning. You knew you didn’t have the right to take a look at all, it was confident stuff most of the time, so you simply grabbed it and decided to pass by the Bonten’s building before going to your own after putting some sweets in your bag. Driving to the place, it almost seems like a normal company you said to yourself as you stop in front of it. It must be insane for someone outside of this world you guess. But yes, for people like you, it has always been normal to carry top secret papers and a gun in your bag while playing innocent. Entering the building as if it was yours, you were surprised to see two guys coming to you and asking for your matter. You don't come around a lot but still, you weren't anybody either. But you can't know everyone, right ? So you let it go and smiled at them.

"I'm bringing papers to my husband, he forgot those this morning," you said with a little smile, trying to be nice as you showed them in your hands.

"I've never seen you around with anyone though..." Imply one of the men, making you quirk. Not coming around everyday doesn't mean that you're lying. You don't have to do so just because of your previous last name in fact. You never needed to be a Haitani to be respected. You sigh as they didn't let you pass even after reading the name on the files.

"Don't make me call him, he won't answer anyway," you explain. Rolling your eyes, you push them aside softly to go on anyway. One of them roughly catches your arm and tries to get you out. A fragile sigh leaves your lips, your cool was more than down and you didn't have the time for this bullshit. Being late is one of the things you hated the most in life and being taken for an idiot too. The thought of killing him right away crossed your mind and the gaze you sent to this poor man made shivers go down his spine in terror when he catches your eyes. "Don't touch me," you instructed, not feeling like playing the sweet wife anymore.

"Oh Miss Haitani, it's been a while since the last time you came," says a young lady passing by with a smile. Her voice calms you down immediately and the man lets you go for the sake of his dear life. She was new the last time you came and you guided her through the building because she couldn't find an office. She was such a kind memory to this place you don’t necessarily appreciate that she calms your nerves. At her words, the two men finally let you live and you go on to the elevator to find Rindou.

Clenching your jaw as the door closes, thinking that a simple lady working here has more value than your words drives you mad. You'll talk to him about it, if you can ever see him. Leaning on the wall as you were alone in the cage, you thought that maybe you wouldn't even have to see him today. Your strict expression falls for a second, replaced with a morose one. You hoped you could, you didn't see each other often after all, but you're always happy to speak with him. Even if it's fighting or just a hello, it warms up your heart. He was right, you're stupid to love him, but hope make you live right ? So you'll continue till it kills you. The doors open in front of you, taking you out of your thoughts before you straighten up when people come in. Going down to the right floor, you walked to the room Rindou is usually in with his brother. As you were about to knock when someone stopped you again and this time you didn't take any of it. You knock and open anyway, a blank expression to contain your anger.

Rindou was surprised. He never expected you there and almost never saw you when you were ready to work. You stand out immediately from anyone in this room, black and red outfits flattering your skin. For the first time in his life, he finds you pretty. Your prideful gait and straight face flutter him a bit as you lay his papers on the desk.

"You forgot this," you simply said as you looked him in the eyes, not waiting for anything but a kind of fondness in it. He answered a little thank you, not shutting your gaze and he had to blink a few times before he could. Leaning his gaze on the other men around the table, their looks on you slightly irritate him. Do men usually look at you that way ? He never expected it. Maybe because he never saw you like a woman but mainly like a kid stealing his freedom. You were in fact a beautiful woman, he had to admit it. You nod and turn around to leave and go take care of your own business. Everyone followed you as you stepped back out of the room. Looking at him one last time, you showed the man next to the door.

"And tell your men about me please, the next one who touches me is dead," you add firmly before definitely passing the door without a goodbye. You weren't a kid anymore and Rindou started to realize it only now. Ran looked at his brother's stun reaction as you left, thinking about what must have happened for him to react like this. Looking through the papers, Rindou realized he actually needed it later on for this meeting and should have been more thankful. But that can’t stay on his mind for too long, immediately coming back to work because it needs to be done and resolved by the end of the day or Kokonoi would kill them. He was thankful, but you still weren't that important. A message would be fine.

By the end of the day, as you were still at work, your phone lights up, showing his name on the screen. You opened it, surprised to receive a text from him because it rarely happened during your three years relationship. It was a simple thank you, nothing less or more, but it made you blush like a high-school girl. Making you think that it was really helpful and worth it to stop by before coming here and proceed to go back to work so you could come home soon.

“Say Rindou,” Sanzu doesn’t even have finished his sentence that Rindou wanted to quit it. He doesn’t feel like talking or arguing with him today. His nerves were nothing to play with right now, tiredness showing in his eyes. Last night’s mission was longer than expected and he just wanted to cool down with someone to fill his mind. Forget everything for a while. Glaring at the pink-haired boy, Rindou really wished this would be enough for him to shut up but the only answer he got was a mischievous smile.

“I saw your girl the other day,” the world he used made Rindou hiss. You’re not his girl, you’ve never been and would never be. He despises the fact that Sanzu keeps on calling you like this.

“She’s freaking hot, I don’t understand why you bother to find some girls here and there when you have this at home,” joked the guy while resting on the back of his seat with a smirk.

“Shut up,” spited Rindou, shutting Sanzu’s month only for him to smile, amused.

“If you really don’t want it, at least share-”

“Enough !” screamed Rindou, “stop being fucking horny for a minute and leave her alone.” His strict tone surprised everyone, he never acted like this, maybe because they usually don’t bring you on. It’s been a while since anyone jokes about it, and it was better that way. Knowing that people think of you that way made him angry in a way, he doesn't like the idea. In his mind, you’re still so young so he doesn't understand how anyone could want you or find you attractive. Even if he faced it the other day, his mind still doesn’t want to see you as a grown up woman. But it’s the case, and maybe you’ll change your mind one day because you will understand that him, and this marriage, aren’t worthy to you. He will come back home and you won’t be there - or there will be someone else here with you. Rindou never dared think about it but, this too, makes him kinda angry. He’s just used to you being at his place when he leaves or comes back.

Thinking about it only now, Rindou wonders why he never got to see you in that kind of outfit before. Of course, he leaves before you most of the time and also comes home late, if he ever comes back. He never saw you leaving or coming back from work. You always seem to be at home. He never really cared but that was normal for him to act like this. Even though Rindou was acting weird lately because of that day and now Sanzu’s words.

“If one day she changes her mind, tell her to call me,” jokes Sanzu again, not knowing when to stop.

“She won’t,” answered Rindou quietly, desperate himself.

“You’re so full of yourself,” adds the pink-haired boy, now bored by his answer.

“I’m not, she’s just like this. I want her to change too…” Rindou suddenly seems a bit numb, angriness gone and only his mind even more stuffy. He doesn’t want you to stick him to death like this, he’d love it if you were able to change your mind, but not to go with someone like Sanzu. And as long as you stay at his place. It might seem to be contradictory, but in his unstable life you're the only thing that hasn’t changed in years and maybe he minds it more than he expected. After that, Rindou leaves the place alone without adding anything, leaving some of them annoyed or concerned. Ran doesn’t really get why his brother is now so concerned about you, but he really wanted to talk about it now.

Rindou comes home with someone that night. He never really does that because he knows he can meet you and doesn't want it to happen at all, but in his head it was clear that you’re rarely here on Thursday night. He never sees you anywhere in your shared apartment and so thought it would be okay for once ; he didn’t want to sleep over tonight, too tired for that. It's better to send her home when he’s done than to himself get home later. Everything was calm, nothing could be heard beside their footsteps and that was all he could pray for. As the girl entered the living room, looking around because she never gets to see where he lives even if they saw each other a few times now, she was more than ready to have some fun here. The place is big, tidy and the overall atmosphere is just perfect. She was already loving it.

“I really like your place, you choose all of this ?” she asked, mentioning the decoration and softly letting her hand go on the couch to feel the texture.

“That’s all you care about ?” answer harshly Rindou. Of course it was not him, this whole place is based on your tastes and he knows you have good ones since everyone told him that his place is so well decorated. It made him sick at first, but now he’s just used to it. She wasn’t there to look at the decoration but him and suddenly, he was off. All he could think was you, again. Following her to the living room anyway, being sure that his mind will change again if she shuts up, he notices something unusual. The door or your office was slightly open, a little lamp glowing inside but mostly you leaned on your desk. Your hair was still up in a ponytail and he couldn’t see your face but was sure that you were asleep. Chills drive down his back at the thought of you waking up to him fucking someone else here and his mind quickly get a conclusion. Grabbing the girl’s arm, he pulls her to the door in a rush.

“My wife is here, you have to go.” His tone looks like you didn’t know any of it and that was better that way or else she wouldn't let him alone easily.

“So we’re going somewhere else ?” she asked, sure that he will follow her. “No,” he simply said before pushing her outside.

“Don’t call me,” was the last thing slipping out of his mouth before he closed the door in front of her face. Rindou was confused at his own behavior. He could follow her at her place but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. Leaning his back against the door for a moment, a sigh leaves his lips before heading to your office. As he passed the door to check for real this time, you were certainly sleeping, an open window with a planned meeting for later on the screen. He never comes to your office before but you always seem to get out of there when you greet him when he’s back. Based on all the files that were accumulated here, you probably mainly work from here and that explains why he rarely saw you in the kind of outfit of the last time. Rindou doesn't dare look at your papers, knowing too well that you’ll never look at his, but still lets his gaze go around your desk, observing your workplace. It was like learning things about you and, to his surprise, it wasn't that bad. You look really invested in your work, have a photo of your younger brother on your desk and even a post-it to call your mom regularly. As he looked at all the things you had around your screen, he found one with when he comes home regularly and even important dates of the month, probably so you know when he comes back or not. That was showing that you cared without stepping on his intimacy.

His eyes fell on your sleeping figure, it definitely was bad for your back to sleep like this and he finds himself hoping that it doesn’t happen too often. You weren’t the little girl that wanted to follow him everywhere anymore, too curious about his job even though your dad did the same and teaches you everything you need to know. You learned to stay in your place and were now respected for sure based on your attitude outside this place. Maybe Rindou was wrong. Yet he won’t tell you that. So, before he leaves, he puts your jacket on your bare shoulders so you won’t be cold when you wake up and closes the door behind him to be sure to not wake you up.

“So both Haitani have to go, make sure to find someone to go with you because I don’t want to do it this time,” Koko warns while searching for the next subject of the meeting in his papers. A little chuckle leaves Sanzu’s lips, happy that it's not him but even more ‘cause it’s them. Rindou isn’t a big fan of events like this but if Mikey is asking for them, there must be a reason. Or not, they’re just there and he probably doesn’t want to send Sanzu or he will make a mess. Still fair enough to Rindou to not sigh at the thought. He just has to find someone, but someone was already on his mind. Plus, he understands Koko’s point : last time, they were both awful because they had to go instead of Sanzu and Kakucho and the poor girls had to go through their bad temper, no matter what, the whole night. This time wouldn’t be the same though, and it’s gladly appreciated. Ran likes those, and Rindou never mind coming with his brother when it's already planned like this. Everything must go well as long as no-one is acting like a jerk around them. It rarely happens in that kind of meeting but, there’s always some person for whom it’s the first time and so they can’t behave. Anyway, Rindou was praying not to cross their roads. He has something else to deal with first.

As Rindou was leaving the meeting with his brother when it finally came to an end, the older one offered him a ride home so they could talk about it further. Ran waves at the others while leaving , smiling but finally happy to have some time with his brother. Plus, they were both busy lately and didn’t get to talk to each other a lot, and since he knew something was off, Ran couldn’t wait to be in his car to talk. Walking to where Ran's car was parked, they both sat in silence before driving out of the parking lot. Ran felt like it’s been an eternity since this happened.

“What’s wrong Ran ?” asking Rindou straight away, knowing his brother too well to know that something was on his mind. His eyes were looking through the window, his chin in his hand, waiting for him to talk but he was obviously busy thinking.

“I want to know what’s on your mind lately,” answered the older one, looking at the road. After a short break, Rindou added a little “nothing” that could never convince his brother and he knew it. Ran sighs before shaking his head a little. Why was he always like this ?

“You can talk to me you know, we’ve been together for life,” he assures, looking sideways at him but he wasn’t moving. “You’re just weird lately and I’m worried. Is it because of Sanzu’s joke the other day ?”

Rindou clenches his jaw at the memories. Simply imagining it makes him want to kill him, and that fact shows how much he changes already. Acknowledging you was something that shakes him deep down, and he doesn't want anyone to joke about it anymore.

“Or is it just about her ?” adds Ran carefully after watching his reaction. His intuition was right, that time when you came to their office really did something to him, as if it was the first time he really saw you. Rindou knew it was impossible to hide it from his brother and sigh before leaning on the back of his seat.

“Just her,” he whispers, like it was a crime to say it out loud. Doing that made it real, and it was still hard for him to admit it. That you were on his mind, that he was kinda worried for you now, sometimes. He hopes you had enough sleep after your late meeting, that no one is bothering you anymore and even asks himself if you remember to eat since you work alone most of the time. It feels stupid and ridiculous, he never did that for anyone and he never thought he will for you but there he was, thinking about sending you a message at 2pm to asks if you’ve eat today when he almost never texted you.

“I feel like a child,” started the youngest, covering his eyes. Ran hum in response, encouraging him to go on. “She’s been on my mind a lot, I started to feel bad being like this with her. She always did a lot for me without me realizing it.” He cuts himself to breathe. Acknowledging that he was wrong seems harder than any mission he ever faced and Ran was ready to wait and listen to him like he always did.

“She’s not a kid anymore,” Rindou finally said but those words were cutting deep in his throat. He probably was the only one to not see it yet, too blinded by the view he had of you, of the child who cuts his freedom and who would always be useless to him because you were too young and immature.

“Better late than never,” answered his brother with a bit of sarcasm. No need to say that it wasn’t welcomed by the youngest who sent daggers at him. “I’m kidding,” chuckles Ran, “What are you gonna do now ? Accepting your marriage ? Considering her as your wife for real this time ?”

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking about it. But I stopped seeing other girls and she was the first one that came to my mind when Koko said we have to come with someone,” admit the youngest. A small and prideful smile appears on Ran's lips at his words. Rindou always blamed you for not being mature enough, but with time, he was the immature one in this relationship and he was ready to go on and face it. Finally.

“So you will ask her ?” Ran couldn’t contain his happiness, he always finds you cute in fact, and thinks that you suit Rindou pretty well in the end.

“Don’t be so happy about it,” pouted Rindou but still nods at his brother’s words. Yes, he will, even if he was anticipating your reaction.

Rindou tried to act normal as he came back home but his hands were sweaty. He stressed about it more than he thought. He rarely talked to you, besides arguing, and it feels weird to suddenly ask you to come with him at a big meeting as his date. Maybe he should apologize first. Thinking too hard about it, he doesn’t realize that he was now in front of your office door and, after a deep breath, he takes his courage with both hands and knocks.

The sudden noise makes you flinch. No one ever knocked on your door here and, for a second, you forget how to respond to that. You regain yourself fast and get up with a little “coming” before opening the door. There was Rindou, freshly coming back from work but without that annoyed expression he always has. Questioning yourself, you tilt your head to the side, not knowing if you should be the one speaking first or letting him since he was the one - kinda - asking for you.

“Do you need something ?” Yes, you talk first by reflex in the end, even if it never ends well. But for some reason, Rindou standing oddly calm in front of you made you feel calm too ? It never happened yet, he was always aggressive around you. Agreeing to your words, he was now searching for his words or how to say it and you never thought you'd be blessed enough to see Rindou like this. awkwardness showing in his attitude and looking away with a frown that didn’t seem hard at all. You wanted to chuckle, but kept your mouth shut and instead smiled politely.

“Just tell me, don't be ashamed,” you added sweetly. Rindou sighs, realizing he was probably ridiculous, he just decided to ask right away.

“I have an important meeting in a few weeks and I wanted to know if you could be my date for the night,” he said quickly, and if you weren’t used to your co-worker speaking so fast you probably wouldn’t have understood a single word. But you did and your cheeks grew hot immediately. You were touched by his offer for sure, but at the same time couldn’t believe it. Rindou never wanted you around him, to hear about you and was angry to get here because that means seeing you, why was he asking you this now ? He clearly saw the misunderstanding in your eyes and decided to speak up.

“I was the childish one in the end, but I want to make it up to you. That doesn’t mean that we’ll be a happy couple tomorrow,” he warns you. “But I’m ready to try to know you better…”

Your heart flutters at his words. It felt like you’ve waited all your life to hear those words. Your hand that was left on the door to keep it open falls slowly as your brain processes them and a lot of things come to your mind.

You didn't even think of nodding in agreement but were already retracing your schedules in your head to be sure you were free. Rindou was waiting for your answer, worried to the bone. You didn’t know, but you were so serious that he was sure you’ll smack the door at him soon because it was way too easy to come to you like this. Instead, you signal him to come inside with you so you can check the date and secure it for him.

“You’re okay with it ?” he asked, confused. Sitting at your desk, you looked at him surprised. “Of course I am, you’re asking so why would I say no ?” It was your first wife's duty, and you were more than glad to accept it. Even more since he was the one asking. So with a smile, you show him to come to you once again so you two can check together.

Rindou looked at you in disbelief, you sure were weird. He still doesn’t get you, and he doesn't really know if he will one day. But he will surely try from now on.

It took me some times, I’m sorry. I was, at first, in an exam period, but since I’m positive to covid I use that time to write and rest

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x reader #haitani rindou imagines #haitani rindou x reader #rindou fluff #rindou x reader #rindou haitani

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seawater-aurelia-writing · 4 years ago

Text

The Break

Pairing(s): Fem!MC/Yuu/Reader x TBD

Summary: MC finally shuts down from all of her acts of helping with overblots and the countless favors/demands that are asked of her. When the Prefect of Ramshackle is the one who needs help, who steps forward?

WARNINGS

I am not the best at labeling warnings or triggers but I can say that this story is laden with neglect, self-neglect, anxiety, possible depression and attempts to justify the above. There could be more labels that I can add but i’m unsure how to word them - so please exercise caution.

Quick Note: The reader in this story is largely based upon Cinderella, for multiple reasons (#1 being that I want to and #2 being that I absolutely love Cinderella and think she’s amazingヾ(•ω•`)o ) . If that type of character behavior annoys or offends you, I recommend skipping this!

She should have seen it coming; The break. Her break.

Her sight blurred with tears, which spilled over her eyes quickly as she laid upon the floor of the library – cold and alone. In front of her, just out of reach, laid her phone amidst the plentiful books which laid strewn chatoticly across the floor from her harsh tumble. Her phone vibrated constantly cause M/C o flinch as she imagined the messages that must be flying across her notifications; Her friends and upperclassmen asking for favors and why she hadn’t completed what they asked.

‘I need to… get up.’ She thought to herself, willing herself to move her arms but her body was more akin to cold, ancient steel, a machine that had been abandoned and forgotten throughout time; It felt nothing like how she was a month ago, a week ago, a few hours ago. ‘ I have.. so much left to do.’

As she tried to find the will to stand – M/C thought of how she ended up in this position; body battered and bruised after falling from the top of the ladder in the deserted corner of the library.

She could barely life her feet as she made her way down the path, back towards Ramshackle Dorm. In her arms, Grim lay curled into her chest as he slept peacefully in her arms.

‘We both had a long day.’ MC mused to herself, gently pressing his closer as the cold, wintry wind blew harder. She recounted their day slowly, going over each task they had accomplished.

Crowley wished for them to wake up earlier to remove unwanted, viney weeds from around the campus gates, Sam’s Store, and the fencing around the Flying Course field in exchange he’d give them some aid to finally repair their roof. Unable to refuse such an offer, M/C awoke at 3 am to be able to accomplish all of the weeding.

However, Grim had not woken to any of her calls or he just ignored her, leaving M/C to venture into the darkened morning on her own to do the weeding.

After 2 hours, when she was finally able to head back to Ramshackle to freshen up before breakfast, she was stopped by Vil. The Pomefiore Dorm Head all but demanded her attention for an hour in the afternoon, her lunch period specifically, to fetch him some arctic sea water from Azul.

Vil was supposedly unable to pick up the water himself as he had an impromptu photoshoot and Azul would only meet during lunchtime.

Despite the tone he used, M/C could sense that Vil was more antsy about missing his photoshoot -made more evident by the slight twitch at the mention of potentially missing the event. She agreed with a bright smile; choosing to ignore Vil’s comment about grass sticking to her and her ‘odor’ when she turned to leave.

Finally, she made it to Ramshackle and rid herself of the stray remnants of debris before she freshened up. Grim, who finally awoke, all but rushed her from the home before she could rest – determined to beat Ace and Deuce to breakfast.

But as luck would have it, M/C could not make it to the Dining Hall before she was stopped by a rather, frazzled Ruggie, who all but shoved a bag of food onto her. He left rushed orders to take it to Leona as he was asked to help restock the lounge before classes. He ran off before she could refuse.

Grim happily skipped to the dining room, telling her not to waste time since he wasn’t going to save her any of the food. However, before she could rush off – Grim yelled back at her to pick up some tuna for him at Sam’s since she was going out of the main building anyway.

She only nodded, ignoring the hollowed feeling in her stomach and the way it rumbled in protest.

M/C remembers being stopped before she could reach Leona, the botanical garden just in sight. That view had been blocked by the ever-looming, Leech Twins. Floyd grinned down at her and plucked the sandwich from her hands.

“Ah! Koechi-chan is so sweet!~ She brought food for us, Jade” Floyd cheered, ignoring her protests and pleas for him to give her the food back.

“Indeed she did, Floyd.” Jade chuckled, doing nothing to stop his twin, who began to eat the food in front of M/C. “And by the way, Prefect. Vil told us that you would be the one picking up his items later today.”

“Y-yes that’s right. At lunch time.” She clarified, her voice softer as she deflated. In retrospect, she still didn’t know what she could have said to Floyd to make him stop. So many girls on Magicam were adamant about how they maintain dominance over their own friends to avoid being stepped on but they always sounded cruel; Giving instructions to ‘clapback’, to insult them, to physically hurt them or poke at their insecurities to make them listen. She didn’t want to snap at the twins, not only would it not do her any good but angering them isn’t what she wanted.

“Azul needs to push that time to this evening, at dinner. Vil suddenly requested twice the amount and thus more payment is required.” M/C remembered the chill that ran down her spine as the Twins seemed to loom over her even more.

“P-Payment? But I don’t-“

“Rook is handling the payment but,in the even he doesn’t, please he prepared to pay any outstanding fees.”

The Twins ignored her pleas for clarification, with Floyd only turning around to demand that she be present for his basketball practice later today.

M/C recounted how, after that, her day became a blur with random intervals of clarity when another request or demand was made of her.

Ace and Deuce asking her to handle their chores in Heartslabyul of feeding the Hedgehogs and Flamingos while they went to mandatory study hall with Professor Trein.

Trey caught her and asked for her to pick up some cream from Sam’s shop for him. She also picked up the tuna that Grim had asked for and the only thing she could afford to eat to replace the breakfast that she missed – a discounted egg salad sandwich.

A sandwich she could only eat half of, as the other half was given to Silver, who had missed breakfast looking for Malleus. He had not asked anything of her, she remembered, but the way he looked at her was odd to say the least. He was adament on her sitting down and finishing her half of a sandwich before leaving but the appearance of Ortho, who asked for her to run an errand for Idia, pulled her away.

Her classes came and went, leaving her feeling isolated as usual. Professor Crewel, never one to shy away from a ‘training’ opportunity, chided her for using an incorrect about of Phoeniz wings in her potion. He only became agitated when she proceeded to answer his questions about the potion, a simple draught, completely wrong. Grim was of no help as even he didn’t know the answers, nor did Ace or Deuce by what they had said but Ace and Grim took great joy in laughing at her misery.

Normally, it wouldn’t have affect her but today, it hurt.

But she smiled anyway.

Lunch time came and, again, she was stopped before she entered the dining hall. Sebek demanded her help in finding Malleus, who was not present at lunch. Again, Grim deserted her as Sebek grabbed her and dragged her along beside him and Silver to find Malleus.

Again, Silver regarded her in an odd way but he said nothing out of the ordinary towards her.

They never did find Malleus and Sebek took too yelling at her for being unable to be of any use in finding him.

“..Sorry, Sebek. I’ll try harder next time.” Was all she could say, while Silver chided him on being too harsh.

As they made it back to the main building, it was time for classes; She had missed lunch as well.

‘Perhaps that’s why I was so dizzy.’ She thought to herself, managing to prop herself onto her elbows. The floor beneath her moved and rippled, similar to the waves in the great oceans back in her homeworld. ‘Correction, why I AM so dizzy…’

Her mind again wandered back to her day after lunch time; Where her day only worsened.

Without any proper food in her, there was no way that she could stay awake with Professor Trein’s class. Lucius quickly spotted her and alerted Trein, before Deuce could fully wake her up.

“Do you believe yourself too smart to pay attention within my class, Miss M/C.” He sneered, a glare firmly on his face as he gazed down at her.

“N-No, sir. I’m sorry, Professor! It wasn’t-“

“Silence.” His voice was firm as harsh, caushing her to flinch and shrink in her seat. “There will be no talking back to me of any kind. I had high expectations of you, Miss M/C and yet you have a complete lack of manners. As punishment, you will write me a paper explaining the important of Magical History, no less than 10 pages. If it is not on my desk first thing in the morning, then expect a harsher punishment. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” She mumbled, her head bowed in submission. M/C could remined the feeling of the heat behind her eyes; How hard it was to hold back tears in that moment.

She hadn’t expected kindness from Professor Trein but it seemed no one was recognizing that she was doing the absolute best that she could do with the circumstances that she was in.

She was blunt and sarcastic at times, yes, but she can’t think of anyone who can hold their tongue constantly. Yet when she seemed to speak, unless it was humorous in nature or her agreeing with those around her- she went unheard. But if she pressed and asked for help, who would drop their things to come to her aid?

Those thoughts plagued her for the rest of the day;

Even as Floyd threatened and scolded her for missing basketball practice, where she was supposed to stock the ice water and the cool towels for him, even though Epel asked her to pick up some old weights from Ruggie.

Even when Ruggie scolded her for not delivering Leona’s sandwich, calling her a thief for eating the sandwich when she reassured him that she didn’t and that Floyd had taken it.

Even when Ace and Deuce whined and complained about letting them down for not feeding the animals properly, when she couldn’t do it properly as they never explained all of the rules to her.

Even when Azul asked, demanded, that she find a specific book for him within the dark recesses of the library before closing as Vil’s additional fee– the thoughts never left her.

In truth, she was merely an anomaly in this world; An irregularity that didn’t belong, didn’t have a place within this magic, twisted world that she found herself in. She was without even the most basic magic to help her through her day to day life as the other had. M/C didn’t know even the most basic of terms within classes that would help her – shown by her struggling grades and performance.

She wouldn’t last outside of NRC, even Crowley had alluded to that. She had no birth certificate, no I.D. on her person, and no family of which to speak of.

Who would risk their own education and future to help someone who wouldn’t be able to do anything on their own anyway?

Even Grim, the other half to her ‘whole student’ was beginning to separate from her as his magic was matured and refined.

But that was why she smiled, was it? She smiled because she liked being needed, feeling as if she had a place in a world where she had none. Even if it ended with her being overworked, sleep-deprived and feeling so hollow – she was needed. A little suffering was nothing.

If her friends would excel in the world around her, wouldn’t that be worth it all? They shouldn’t have to suffer and fail in their classes just because a useless anomaly couldn’t handle the most basic of things.

‘It’s fine.’ She thought to herself, finally pushing herself to her knees. She winced, her movements letting her know just how bad her fall had truly been; Her chest hurt and ached with every beat of her heart, her right leg, the one which hit the ground first, was pulsing and red hot and all over – it felt as if fire ants were stinging her.

“It’s..fine.” She mumbled to herself, reaching with shaking hands to begin the task of stacking the books that she knocked over.

“No, it is not.” Came a hardened voice from behind her.

M/C tensed, her eyes widening as she registered the voice as Professor Trein. As she straightened her back quickly, aiming to turn to look at her professor, the room began to spin once more. Sound all around her became muffled as it felt as though her entire was was submerged underwater.

“ -s M/C. Are your manners that abhorrent that you cannot even turn to face when when I speak to y-.” Professor Trien fumed but his voice faded away despite how hard she attempted to focus on it.

“P-Professor…” She whimpered, curling into herself to try to stop the sensations around her; But they never ceased, even as she felt something wet run down her face - a pain beginning to bloom upon her head as she focused on the wet feeling.

And it all went dark.

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