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nyashykyunnie · 2 days ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 049 - Lover! Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Trichotillomania ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ Trichotillomania: Repeated hair pulling habits from stress, anxiety and depression. Do not engage with this fic if you are in a poor mental health state. Familial abuse. Physical abuse. Body Dysmorphia. Depression. Suicidal Ideation. Trichotillomania can be considered as a form of self harm. Other variations of self-harm is in heavy description. Ends in fluff ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Just Somewhere to Hide. Just somewhere. Anywhere. ] ¡! ❞

The only thing that's stopping you from ending things right now is that there is a lack of a knife present in your hands.

The kitchen is just a few steps away. Just one thrust into your heart and it's off to the comfortable embrace of death itself.

But you can't risk that, there's no spot in this godforsaken house you're imprisoned in for a peaceful death. Every corner of the walls around you is a death sentence to invite panic attacks in.

Why can't everyone just shut up and leave you be?

It's not like it's your fault you can't get into fucking college because of the tuition fee. Aren't you saving everyone's fucking wallets from that bullshit?

No one should give a fuck about your lack of education, you can enroll by the time the expenses die down.

You shouldn't have been here in the first place anyway. If it weren't for that single night you wouldn't be born.

But ah, life has a wonderful way of fucking up everything.

You grew pampered, with food served to you in rich flavors and huge amounts. You're thankful for that, you're thankful for the lovely childhood.

Oh how you wish to go back to those days.

But do you really?

Childhood may have been lovely but underneath all the glitters and rainbows were belts and hangers and brooms used to discipline you?

Can't spell a word right?

A smack from a fist.

Can't do your math right?

A smack from a hanger.

Can't translate between two languages fast enough?

A smack from the wood of a broom.

Can't do an essay right?

A smack with a belt.

Maybe childhood isn't lovely either.

Where was the place that you could hide yourself away? School.

Yes.

As much as you hated that place for all it's shitty standards it was a safe place. At least there you can pretend, at least there you can have some form of isolation even if you're being bullied and mocked for how you look and your voice sounds.

It's fine that you undergo discrimination and bullying, at least they're not swinging belts and brooms at you. It's just them destroying your self-esteem.

Not like you have any to begin with thanks to your parents who were even more brutal about your appearance that you now have body dysmorphia on tip of depression and anxiety.

Even if school is a place where teachers normalize humiliating students shamelessly for basic wrongdoings that can be corrected with simple warnings.

Even though that place is full of people who only respect you when they need something out of you, even if that place is a paradise for the pretty girls and a hell for those who don't fit the beauty standard— That place felt safer than anywhere else.

All your life you've never been given privacy because of your privilege. You're luckier than your cousins who have it harder, so be thankful.

But at one point you started wishing for your places to be switched. It's fine that you eat food that is burnt and poorly cooked, it's fine that you have to eat shitty food.

If it meant you can have a little more breather instead of getting anxious that you might have done something to earn the belt— It's fine.

You'd rather starve than anything else.

At some point in your life you started to pull your hair out. It started from a few strands. But all of the sudden there are clumps of hair gathered on the floors.

What did you get instead of receiving help?

A beating.

That's right, a beating.

You got your hair yanked, pinned to the floor, and slapped repeatedly on your helpless situation. When your aggressor was pried off of you— You got kicked on your already helpless situation.

In the end who is the one who asks for forgiveness and gaslit that you being pinned down and slapped is justifiable? You.

You.

The helpless you.

The you who isn't allowed to voice your feelings out so you grew to not know how to tell anyone what you really feel, even to the point that you feared telling your feelings is what will doom you into irreversible damage.

You feared your own emotions.

You feared everything you should have been allowed to fear from the years of abuse. The fear bedded into your soul.

Did you want help?

YES.

Fuck yes you did.

What happened instead? You are guilt-tripped into saying no that you don't need a psychiatrist despite the fact you have major social anxiety, severe trichotillomania and heck— You even cut yourself when you can.

Nothing.

Nothing could help you.

Everything is a prison and you yourself are rotten from the inside out.

No one wanted to help you.

Your family?

Right.

They only fucking insist on caring because the image of a severely mentally ill daughter is bad for their image.

Nobody really cared.

Nobody did.

Even if you cry your heart out nobody could help you.

Nobody wanted to help.

No one.

There's no one there.

Not here.

Not there.

Not anywhere.

You're all alone.

In this vast world that you try to paint into a pretty picture in your head— Not one soul wanted to help you.

The embrace of death seems all the more enticing now that you really think about it.

Why fear it?

Death gives you mercy from the agony of living.

Atleast if you're dead— No one ans nothing can hurt you.

You can sleep all you want while your body rots from six feet under.

You've always been rotten anyway.

Dying won't be any different.

Life always ends in slumber, it's about time for you to dream.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"My liege!" Beru's panicked voice yells out for his master, instantly jolting Jinwoo awake from his small nap after playing a few rounds after homework. "The empress— She's unwell!"

"Exchange"

The command slipped out of Jinwoo's lips in an instant. He knew what was happening.

Even if he doesn't know the full story of what you've been through— He knew the situation is bad as he feels Beru's heightened anxiety.

Jinwoo can technically peer into your memories and see for himself what really happens. But he didn't. He wanted you to tell him what happened in the years you grew up. He wanted you to tell him what pushed you to whatever the hell happened to you today.

He knew about your destructive habits. It was the result of bottling up your emotions for so long that it created a ticking time bomb that will burst at any moment should the right trigger be pulled.

And when Jinwoo finally materializes from the abyss-like wisps of shadows— He would find himself face to face with your figure staring out at the cityscape as you stand on the ledge.

"Stop, wait!" Jinwoo panics, breaking into sweat when he saw you take a stop.

He yanked your arm back in an instant, letting your back crash against his chest. Jinwoo held you firmly as you thrashed and screamed in his hold.

But ah, his strong arms will not let you go.

He refuses to let go. Knowing the moment he does you will take flight and descend to your demise. Still he was hyper aware of his strength, if he so ever squeeze too much and he might kill you.

As you stretched your palm out to yearn for the ledge— Jinwoo uses his to grab hold of yours and pull it back.

"That's not something you should longing for" Jinwoo says, his voice trembling as he uses his other hand to cover your eyes so you wont see it anymore. "A leap of faith is not what you need."

You kept thrashing in his hold, cursing Jinwoo out for daring to interrupt your final farewell.

But soon he would lift his palm up from your eyes.

As your eyesight adjusts back to the waking world— You find yourself no longer on top of the building you were in a second ago.

Instead in front of you is a vast field of grass with blooming flowers swaying back and forth along with the gentle breeze blowing your way.

Once Jinwoo could tell that you're no longer agitated, his hold becomes gentle, and instead he would just hug you from behind as you both sat on the grass.

Your breath was completely taken away by how pretty the sight is. Every single dark thought you had in your little head is instantly washed away by the peaceful and beautiful sight.

The sky itself is majestic, with full and fluffy clouds drifting about and even the stars blinking so prettily along with a meteor shower.

While your gaze is distracted by everything else, Jinwoo's eyes are on you. He could see another bald spot on your head from your hair plucking habits. At the center of it was a huge gaping wound fresh and still bleeding. He blows on it gently, the wound closing instantly and your strands growing back anew as if nothing ever happened in the first place.

"Better?" He finally asks as he nuzzles the side of your head.

"Mhm." You weakly nod, too distracted to really talk properly.

"I know, I know that I can't tell you that everything will get better" Jinwoo holds you softly, holding you tighter. "It'll be stupid for me to try and tell you about rainbows and whatnot."

"..."

"But if you want to run away, if you want to be somewhere far away like this. Just tell me. Don't go hurting yourself, don't think about leaving this world" He goes on.

You can't see him directly, but you knew by the tremble of his voice that he must be crying. And yet Jinwoo pretends to be strong. The one who needs comfort is not him, but you.

"When the world is too cruel on you, when everything is just too painful for your, when you just want to cry— Turn to me." Jinwoo said, no— He was pleading you. "I'll take you here. Just you and me. Just us."

A place of solace.

A paradise for both of you.

A place where no one can hit you, no one can yell at you, a place where you can let your guard down.

The thought of that caused you to break into tears. You wanted to tell him what you feel. What you think. What happened and why you're like this. But instead you only sob.

You can only cry your sorry little heart out, you let out all the screams and tears you've been hiding because you will be guilt-tripped for having emotions. For being weak.

Yet this man wasn't doing any of that. Instead he was rubbing your back as if he understood what you were trying to tell him in your tears.

You don't have to hurt yourself. Not as long as he's here. If it's a hero you need then he will be your saviour. Jinwoo wants to show you that you are loved.

If not by the world, then by him.

He will love you, more than he has now.

The world is beautiful, and you have unfortunately been too exposed to the ugliness of everything. So he will be your beacon of light.

He'll hold your hand and show you everything that should have been shown to you in the first place. He'll pamper you to the point that you'll forget your destructive habits.

After all, those came to life because of your environment.

In the hellhole that you are imprisoned in, he'll pull you out to take you home. A home for you and him.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: What a way to start my Lover series hahah. I just needed this fic so bad so I'm sorry for introducing my new series like this. If you are in need of professional help please reach out immediately should you are able to. Please don't bottle up your emotions. You're only hurting yourself. If you are unable to reach out to therapists then please talk to your friends or close people for comfort. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling x you #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x fem reader #sung jinwoo fics #sung jinwoo fic #sung jinwoo headcanons #seong jinwoo #seong jinwoo x reader #solo leveling headcanons #only i level up #ore dake level up na ken

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pamwritessometimes · 1 day ago

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Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 7

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of murdering someone (as a joke, kind of), so much Scooby-Doo and dog talk, GIRL DAD RUSSELL!! (he's a warning because – well, you'll see)

Y/N: This chapter... this chapter is literally my favorite from this series. Enjoy!🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 6 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

Russell, clearly anticipating her fury, quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I know this sounds insane, and I know you probably hate my guts – fair enough, you’ve got every reason to – but Y/N sent me to grab some stuff for her and Emma.”

Your sister’s brows furrowed in confusion for many things. “Where the hell are they? What did you do–”

“They’re at the hospital in Springland” Russell cut in, holding up a hand. “They’re fine, okay? Just– let me pack some things for them. You can come with me, I’ll explain everything on the way” he said.

Her hands started to tremble, and she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. “So, they’re okay? Emma’s okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. They’re good” Russell said, though his gaze was unreadable. “Please, let me–”

A flood of emotions hit Anna all at once. Relief, yes, but also an undercurrent of fear she couldn’t shake. Emma was okay. That’s all that mattered. Still, she didn’t understand why they would be in Springland. And…why hadn’t Y/N called her? And why the hell was he here picking up their stuff?

Anna stared at him, trying to read him. The whole situation was a mess. Y/N and Russell hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms, and now here he was, showing up at her door, looking exhausted and out of place. Why him?

Still, Anna couldn’t help the relief flooding through her. Y/N and Emma were safe. They had to be. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was still off.

“Alright” she sighed and reluctantly let him in. She helped him pack some sweaters, a new pair of jeans, clean underwear and everything you’d need during a hospital stay. She also tossed clothes to Emma, her favorite plushie – a Scooby-Doo toy your parents gave her.

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Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. The last few days had chewed you up, spat you out, and trampled over what was left. You weren’t just tired. You were hollowed out, running on fumes and sheer willpower. You had a feeling like you’d need a month's rest, minimum.

But at least Emma was safe. She was sleeping peacefully now, tucked into the hospital bed beside you. Physically, she was unharmed, Rourke and his men hadn’t laid a finger on her. Yet, you knew that wasn’t the whole story. Mentally, the trauma of it all would leave scars neither of you could see just yet. Your brave, sweet girl had been kidnapped. Stolen away. And the thought of what could have happened – no. Your mind can’t even go there.

Now here you were, sitting vigil beside her hospital bed. You’d been given your own bed in the room – thank heaven for small favors – but you couldn’t bring yourself to use it. Instead, you stayed planted by Emma’s side, staring at her tiny face as she slept. Her brows were furrowed even in rest, her lips pressed into a worried pout. Seeing her like that made your guilt weigh heavier.

You should have been her protector, her guardian angel, the one who kept the bad things away. And yet here you were, staring at the evidence of your failure. No four-year-old – or any child, for that matter – should have to go through this.

Your mind wouldn't quit, racing through the last few days like a bad movie on loop. First, the panic when you realized Emma was gone, the gut-wrenching moment it hit you, like a punch to the stomach. Then there was Rourke, that smug, twisted, mustache-framed smile of his, and the mess you’d thrown yourself into just to get her back. The helplessness you felt when you finally decided to call Colter. And, of course, there was Russell blowing back into your life like a hurricane, as if you hadn’t just spent years avoiding him.

They’d saved her. Saved both of you, really. And for all the hurt and confusion between you and Russell, you couldn’t deny that he had stepped up when it mattered most.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

The door creaked open, and Anna’s familiar auburn hair peeked in first. Her eyes softened when they landed on you and Emma. She slipped inside, moving quietly not to wake Emma, and behind her came Russell, lugging two heavy sports bags.

Anna came straight to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly as soon as she reached your side. You returned the hug, letting her warmth chase away a fraction of the chill that had washed over your skin.

“God, I was so worried. So, so, so worried.” she whispered with a voice heavily trembling.

“I know, I– I’m so sorry” you murmured. “I was too. Did Russell tell you?”

She pulled back just enough to look at you. “Yeah, he briefed me” she said as her hands were still gripping your arms. “Don’t worry, I put him in his place” she said and Russell rolled his eyes at that. She really did, the whole car ride had been a rather tense experience.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have t–”

“Stop” Anna cut you off, smoothing a hand over your hair like she used to when you were kids. “Of course, I did.”

Her eyes slid to Russell, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew you two had so many things to talk about, but – for obvious reasons – she didn’t want to leave you with him. On the ride here, Russell tried to explain everything. And by everything, he meant everything. His line of work, the reason you were brought to your sister’s house that night four and a half years ago, and the real reason Emma was taken. To say Anna hadn’t taken it well was an understatement. But even in her anger, she couldn’t miss the regret in his voice, or the way he spoke about Emma – like she was the most precious thing in his world, even though he barely knew her. That, more than anything, made her hesitate.

Anna’s gaze darted to Russell, who was mindlessly unpacking one of the bags she’d hurriedly thrown together, then back to you.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Her voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken warnings, all of them aiming directly at Russell. “I brought the essentials,” she added, nodding toward the duffels by the door. “I’ll be outside. Need to call Mom and Dad anyway.”

“Thanks, Anna”

She gave you a small, tight smile and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Emma’s forehead. Without another word, she stepped out of the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Russell. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, not this time.

Russell cleared his throat, abandoning the duffels mid-unpack, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Thank you” you said quietly, your voice softer than you’d expected.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t have a specific answer, really. There was too much to thank him for.

Bringing you here to make sure you and Emma were safe, for one.

At the diner, he’d distracted Emma with soothing words and a little game – like connecting with her was the most natural thing in the world. That moment had surprised you, even warmed you.

And then, of course, there was the big thing. The thing that mattered most. He and his brother had risked their lives to save Emma. Your child. Your entire world.

Sure, he was partly the reason Emma had been in danger to begin with. But after everything, could you really hold that against him? Not more than you blamed yourself, anyway. He hadn’t even known about her, let alone that she could be used as a pawn to hurt him. That part? That was on you. You’d made the decision to keep quiet about your pregnancy, letting your own hurt and anger drown out better judgment.

Really, both of you had made mistakes. He hadn’t told you what his real job was. You hadn’t told him he was going to be a father. And now, here you were – two people who had made a mess, trying to pick up the pieces.

“How is she?” Russell asked, his gaze landing on Emma. His voice was steady, but you could hear the waves of guilt underneath like a howling ocean.

“She’s... okay” you said, letting out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in your chest for days. “Physically, at least. The rest? That’s going to take time.”

He nodded but his jaw worked like he was trying to grind his regret into dust. “She’ll get through this…She’s strong. Like her mom.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his words. For a second, the fortress you’d built around yourself wavered.

Hell, who were you kidding? That thing had crumbled the second Emma was back in your arms.

“I don’t know about that” you admitted.

“I do” he said, stepping a little closer, careful. “I saw it. These last few days... you didn’t stop. You didn’t back down. Not even when I showed up and probably made everything ten times harder.”

Your chest tightened, and you glanced down at your hands. They were still trembling, like your body hadn’t gotten the memo that the worst was over.

“I was terrified, Russell. Every second, I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never see her again.”

“But you didn’t” he said, sitting beside you like he belonged there. After a beat of silence, he added, “Because you fought for her. And when it came down to it, we fought for her together.”

That last word hit you like a gentle nudge to the heart. Together. You lifted your eyes to meet his, and for the first time in longer than you cared to admit, you saw something there you hadn’t let yourself see before. Honesty. Regret. And maybe... hope?

“I don’t even know how to thank you” you said, your voice soft. “You and your brother. I don’t even know where to start. I can’t—”

“Don’t” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I just... I had to. For her. For you.”

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. “You saved her, Russell. That means everything to me.”

He leaned forward, his hand hovering near yours, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to close the gap. “I’d do it again. A thousand times over.”

The silence between you stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with all the things neither of you were ready to say but couldn’t deny anymore.

Finally, you reached out and your fingers brushed his calloused hands. “Stay” you whispered. “We’ve got a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

The corners of his lips tugged up slightly, almost like he wanted to smile but thought better of it.

“I can do that.”

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You can’t remember when or how you drifted off, and you certainly can’t remember how you got into the bed beside Emma’s. For a moment, you were completely disoriented, like a GPS that lost signal. Your ears perked up at the sound of the TV, the familiar voice of Don Messick’s echoing through the room like an old friend. Was that Scooby-Doo you were hearing? Had you and Emma watched so much of it that now your brain was hallucinating talking dogs in your sleep?

You slowly peaked one eye open, then the other, dopiness sweeping through your system. You had to blink a couple before the blurry sight became clear in front of you.

There was Emma, sitting up on her bed, her eyes glued to the hospital TV in the corner, watching a rerun of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? She was making soft, nonsensical sounds that barely registered to you in your half-awake state.

And next to her, there was Russell, lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm, also mumbling. Emma’s head was nestled against his torso, her small body curled up in a cozy little ball next to his as she clutched the Scooby plushie Anna must have packed for her. They were both completely absorbed in the episode, their voices blending together in what could only be described as an animated commentary on the show.

You tried to make sense of what they were saying, but their words were a jumble to you – intelligible to them, maybe, but not to your sleep-fogged brain.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize the episode they were watching: Decoy for a Dognapper.

Of course. Emma was a Scooby fan. You and her know all the episodes by heart at this point, so much that Scooby-Doo was practically a second language in your house. And it seemed like Russell had caught on too, or at least, he’d been swept into the Scooby-verse by default. The two of them were so wrapped up in their conversation, they didn’t even notice you were awake.

“No way! She won’t? Why not? A dog is awesome” Russell said, his voice carrying the first full sentence your foggy mind could grasp.

“She says I’m too young” Emma replied, snuggling closer to his side as though the injustice of it all was just simply too much to bear.

“Too young? That’s ridiculous. What does that even mean?” Russell shot back, his tone scandalized for comedic effect. “Dogs don’t care how old you are. They care if you’ve got snacks and ear scratchin’ in store for ‘em.”

Emma giggled. “Mom doesn’t wanna pick up poop.”

Russell tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if I remember correctly, your mom was seriously considering getting a dog a few years ago.”

At that, you sat up with a groan. “Really, Russell?”

It was true, he and you both knew it. About five or so years ago, you’d gone on and on about adopting a dog – all the goddamn time. Russell had endured countless rants about breeds, shelters, and the pros and cons of pet ownership. Now, the smirk on his face told you he was thoroughly enjoying throwing it back in your face. Payback’s a bitch, huh?

Both of them turned to look at you. Emma with her wide-eyed, angelic innocence, and Russell with a grin that was downright infuriating in its smugness.

“Morning” he greeted with a widening grin. “We were just discussing the tragic lack of a dog in Emma’s life. Care to defend yourself?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Emma chimed in with an emboldened voice by her new ally. “Why can’t I have one?”

You rubbed your temples, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Because you’re too young, and I know exactly how that would end. I’d be the one walking it, feeding it, and cleaning up after it, dealing with everything.”

Russell raised a brow, looking way too amused. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind the idea a couple of years ago.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t make her think she has backup in this, Russ.”

“Too late” he said, leaning back with a grin. “Team Dog is officially in full force, yeah?”

Emma threw her hands in the air triumphantly, flashing you the biggest grin. “Team Dog!”

You groaned, but the warmth bubbling in your chest betrayed you. It wasn’t just the banter – it was seeing them like this, bonding over something silly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Emma looked like a carefree kid again.

You narrowed your eyes at Russell, fully expecting another smug remark when he suddenly looked... hesitant. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the bed like a man about to drop a bombshell.

“What?” you asked, immediately suspicious.

“Well” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “don’t freak out, but... your parents are here. They got here a couple hours ago while you were out. Anna called them, I guess. She must’ve worked her magic because, well... let’s just say I was fully prepared to be murdered the second they walked in.”

Your hand flew to your forehead as you groaned, visions of your parents tearing into Russell flashing through your mind.

You didn’t tell them about him being here yet… and you guess it was already too late.

Your dad would be loud about it, your mom quieter but somehow more terrifying. You could only imagine the list of grievances they had ready for him. You just hoped they didn’t cause a scene in front of the whole hospital – and most importantly, in front of Emma.

“Wait” you narrowed your eyes. “They’re not trying to kill you? What did Anna even say to make that happen?”

“I think she went with the ‘he saved Emma’ card. Pretty sure your mom’s exact words were, ‘Well, I suppose I won’t bury him under the hydrangeas... yet.’”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted. It was just so her. “Sounds about right. And dad?”

Russell winced theatrically. “Your dad... definitely gave me the look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m debating whether you’re worth the jail time.’ But he hasn’t thrown any punches yet, so I’ll count that as a win.”

Emma tilted her head, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why does Grandma and Grandpa wanna hurt Russell? He’s so nice!”

The room went so quiet you could hear the faint hum of the hospital machinery. Russell froze, looking at you for backup, but you were too busy giving him a look – the universal signal for you started this, buddy, now deal with it.

“Well, sweetheart” he said slowly, scratching his head. “They don’t actually want to hurt me. It’s just... a joke. You know, like when people say they’re gonna kill someone, but they don’t really mean it?”

Emma gave him a serious look, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “But why? What did you do?”

You sighed, realizing there was no easy way out of this. “Sweetie” you began gently, “it’s kind of a long story. But Grandma and Grandpa are just... protective. They’re not mad at Russell anymore. Or at least, not much.”

Emma’s curious gaze ping-ponged between the two of you. “Why?”

“Okay” you said, sitting on the edge of Emma’s bed and taking a deep breath. “The thing is... Russell didn’t do anything bad. Not really. It’s just... well, a long time ago, before you were born, Russell and I used to–”

“Date…” Russell interjected, apparently deciding to rip the band-aid off.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Date? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

She stared at the two of you, her little brows furrowing as she processed this new information. Then her face lit up with excitement. “Were you married?”

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes” you said, holding up your hands. “No, we were not married. We just... used to be together.”

Emma tilted her head again, her expression now puzzled. “Then why are Grandma and Grandpa angry at Russell?”

Russell chuckled nervously. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, kiddo. They’re just... protective of your mom.”

“Very protective” you muttered. You took a deep breath, preparing for the big reveal. “Sweetheart, here’s the thing. After Russell and I stopped being boyfriend and girlfriend… I found out that you were already growing in my belly.”

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her mouth forming a perfect O at your carefully selected words. “You mean… like when babies are in tummies?”

You were trying to keep your tone light as you nodded. “Exactly like that.”

Emma tilted her head, her little brow furrowed as she worked it out in her mind. “So… that means… Russell’s my daddy?”

Russell smiled, his heart visibly melting. “Yeah.”

Emma blinked at him, then at you, then back at him, as though she was piecing together the most important puzzle of her life. After a moment of silence, her face broke into a huge grin. “YAY! I have a daddy!”

Emma scooted closer to Russell, wrapping her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re my daddy now! That means you have to stay forever!”

Russell’s eyes glistened, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’ll be here as much as I can, I promise.”

Emma pulled back slightly, her face lighting up with another burst of excitement. She turned her wide, sparkling eyes up at Russell. “Can we get a dog now, Daddy?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, for the love of – Emma!”

“What?” she said innocently, looking between you and Russell. “You said no before ‘cause it was just you! But now Daddy can help with the poop!”

Russell burst out laughing, clearly enjoying this too much. “She’s got a point, you know.”

You shot him a look that could have frozen water. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Team Dog!” Emma giggled and Russell ruffled her hair affectionately, somehow steering her to sit back down and continue their Scooby-Doo marathon.

Despite yourself, you took a deep breath, still trying to get your head around the unexpected turn of events.

This was... a lot.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it should. Sure, it had been a complete curveball to drop the whole Russell-is-your-dad bombshell, but Emma’s bright smile, the way she’d lit up at the news, somehow made it all feel like it could work.

As Emma giggled, you let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t how you thought this conversation would go, but somehow, it was already starting to feel a little more like a family.

A very unusual family.

But a family nonetheless.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 8):

Still, Russell had clearly decided that proximity was his job. He was there nearly every day, and on more than a few nights, too.

“Just in case” he’d say. You didn’t know, but he loved staying there when the both of you were sound asleep. During those times, he felt an indescribable peace.

And then there was his latest obsession: fixing everything. It started innocently enough – he noticed a cabinet door hanging loose and gave it a quick tune-up. Then he spotted the wobbly bathroom doorknob. Before long, the guy was like a one-man Home Depot commercial, patching up squeaks and quirks you hadn’t even realized were annoying you.

And at first, you didn’t even notice. But one day, you walked into the kitchen, and something felt... off. Not bad-off, just different. Quieter.

The cupboards didn’t bang shut anymore, the sticky drawer slid like butter, and that creaky floorboard by the living room? Silent. It was like Russell had decided that if he couldn’t fix all your problems, he’d settle for conquering your house.

And the worst part? It was kind of working.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

I might have giggled all the way while writing it, or maybe I didn’t. But hey, Emma has a dad!

Chapter 8 coming soon...

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#russell shaw x reader #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw x you #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #tracker cbs #russell shaw #tracker fanfiction #tracker #jackles

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mc-lukanette · 3 days ago

Text

Marinette had been to amusement parks before, but it'd been so many years since her last one. It was something her parents thought to do every now and then when she was young, and she'd only had so many chances as a teen that weren't tainted with memories of akuma battles. Once she became a full-fledged adult, it was too hard to excuse going to one by herself for fun.

She didn't have an excuse anymore for two reasons, one being her daughter and the other being the tickets that Jagged Stone had practically forced upon her. The man still had just as much energy as he did when they met and appointed himself as her baby-at-the-time's "Great Uncle J," a name that both sounded young and apparently gave him every right to spoil her rotten.

That, naturally, included the tickets, though he'd added at the time that they were a reward for all of Marinette's help throughout the years, whether that be as Marinette or Ladybug.

So there they were, her and the bundle of energy clinging to her hand like they'd be separated the instant she let go, eyes enthusiastically searching the rides and stalls. Marinette was only thankful that she wasn't the kind of child to run off on her own unless it was actually something important and not a whim.

"So? Any rides look good?" she asked, sensing that her little girl was in being so overloaded in her head that she couldn't speak unless prompted to mode. It was just too obvious with how fast she was turning her head, her black hair constantly getting in her face and swishing over her shoulders.

Kalette looked up at her, then grabbed the hand she'd already been holding with her other hand. "The teacups! I gotta know what it's like to be tea in a teacup!"

"Sound logic," she complimented, trying not to giggle. Was it egotistical to think about how cute her child was when said child looked so much like her? "Do you want to eat first?"

"No! Teacups!" Kalette insisted.

"No teacups? You sure changed your mind fast," Marinette joked.

She got a pout in return. "I'm not hungry, really!"

Shaking her head in amusement, Marinette turned around and started guiding Kalette to the teacups ride. There weren't huge crowds or lines since Jagged had made sure to pick a quiet day to buy tickets for, so she was already piecing together what they might do for the rest of the current hour.

If she spins too hard, she might get tired. Maybe we could go on something gentler afterwards where she can just sit and enjoy the ride?

She started searching the area for any nearby gentle rides, but then felt a tug on her hand. She stopped walking and looked down, seeing that Kalette had stilled, staring off into the distance where Marinette was certain the teacup ride wasn't.

"Kalette?" She crouched down, squeezing her hand with a little concern. "What's wrong?"

When Kalette met her gaze, her eyes looked as if she'd been starstruck, her mouth open in awe. She tugged on Marinette's hand - intentionally this time - and pointed, exclaiming, "Mama, that man's got dyed hair just like yours, but blue!"

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat at the familiar mental image that conjured, but she shook the thought away. There was no way that man was there, and she shouldn't be getting distracted by the mental image of someone she hadn't seen in so long.

But then she looked up, following Kalette's point to a man in the crowd that had a little boy with him. The man was decently tall, dressed up a little punk but not excessively so, and had black hair dyed blue at the tips.

She felt her heart clench, recognizing him despite his back facing her. Even the tiny strand at the top of his head hadn't changed, and she involuntarily uttered a tiny, "Luka...?"

She felt sure that there was no way he could've heard her with how quiet her voice had been, yet he suddenly stopped. Her brain fumbled with thoughts about how he must've gotten distracted by something, or was taking in the sounds, or anything else, all of which were put into question when he glanced over his shoulder.

Their eyes met. She couldn't believe it, wondering if she'd tripped and been knocked unconscious as her head hit the pavement, thus making all of this some crazy dream she was having. The screams of people on rollercoasters, the smell of citrus from a nearby drink stall, and the tiny hand squeezing hers were all so vivid, but the sight of Luka Couffaine standing there was surreal.

And then Luka's eyes widened. He turned fully, the boy at his side going with him as he approached, pathing straight towards her.

"Marinette?" He sounded breathless, like he'd ran there. She was still crouched down, leaving the sky as the backdrop behind Luka's face casting a beautiful backlight onto him.

Forcing herself back to attention, she stood up, dusting off her perfectly clean pants. "Luka! Hi! It's—wow, it's..."

"It's been so long," he finished.

"Yeah!" she agreed. Feeling her daughter's dangerously curious gaze burning a hole in the side of her head, Marinette gently pulled her in front, gesturing to her with a free hand. "Oh, this is my daughter, Kalette. Kalette, this is Luka Couffaine, my..."

Friend? Ex? Guy-That-She-Never-Quite-Got-Over-But-Didn't-Realize-It-For-a-Long-Time?

"...He's Great Uncle J's son," she decided, figuring that going with association would be best. Even if she'd stuck with "friend," that was so vague as to be completely meaningless, but Kalette knew Jagged extremely well.

Luka gave Kalette a crooked smile. "Hey, Kalette. Nice to meet you." He gestured to the boy at his side, eyes flicking to both Marinette and Kalette as he introduced, "This is Nika, my son."

Son. Marinette's eyes were unconsciously drawn to his hand, noticing that he wasn't wearing anything on his ring finger. Her free hand falling back to her side, her thumb rubbed at her own ring(less) finger. She reminded herself then that it didn't mean he was single and also that it was none of her business.

"Hi, Nika," she greeted, pretending not to be going through a crisis.

"We were just going to get something to eat," Luka added, confirmed with a small nod from Nika. "What about you two?"

She opened her mouth, but a squeeze tight enough to hurt turned her attention down to Kalette. "What is it?"

"Mama, I'm hungry," she replied, completely straight-faced.

What.

—————

They ended up at a food stall, Kalette making a show of letting "everyone else" choose first out of politeness, as if she cared one bit about what they were having. Marinette didn't doubt that the little traitor intended to pawn most of the food off on her, Luka, or Nika if she ended up full after a few bites, but she couldn't call her out at the moment and left the task for later.

Having walked all the way alongside Luka, things were at least starting to feel more real, especially when their hands accidentally brushed at one point. He had a calm aura that everyone who knew him naturally gravitated towards, and it hadn't faded with time. She started to feel its effects despite the obvious trap her own daughter had put her in.

"Nika, what do you want?" Luka asked, crouching down to his son's level. "I'll order it for you."

"Um..." Nika gave a side glance at all the food items on the sign, but answered noncommittally, "Anything?"

Judging by the disappointment in Luka's expression, Marinette got the feeling that this happened a lot. She was concerned, simultaneously feeling like she shouldn't be involved, but then Luka stood up and lowered his voice to talk to her, like he felt some obligation to explain.

"Nika has a hard time asking for what he wants," he told her. "I don't know where he gets it from."

She muffled a snort behind her hand. At his perplexed look, she couldn't help whispering back, "Oh, I can't imagine where he gets it, especially not with a dad who's always looking out for everyone else and never asks for anything."

He had the decency to look embarrassed by the accusation.

Now that she was officially involved, Marinette stepped past Luka, putting herself to Nika's other side. She sat down on the ground to be more level with him, bending a leg and resting an arm on its knee to give off a more casual impression.

"Nika," she began gently, "do you think he could help me? Keep a little secret?"

The boy stared, confused by her presence but nodding along.

She leaned in, raising a hand to the side of her mouth to tell him, "I'm so bad at picking things; the worst. You know in cartoons where a character waits so long that they grow a beard? That's me, any time I have to make a decision."

Though he tried to hide his giggling, she could see the smile behind his hand.

"It's the same here. Everything sounds so good, I can't decide!" She put her hand to her chest, trying to look extra pitiful. "Can you give me a recommendation? What would you get?"

His once hesitant eyes gleamed with purpose, and he started to look at the list differently. There was a layer of seriousness there as opposed to the reluctance of someone afraid to get invested in something they weren't going to ask for anyway.

"The, ah..." He tilted his head at her. "The soft pretzel?"

"The soft pretzel!" She gasped and hit her own forehead with the palm of her hand. "Of course!"

She took his hands, bowing her head in a dramatic show of thanks, then let him go and stood back up. Leaning confidently on the counter, she held up two fingers and requested, "Two soft pretzels, please! One for me and another for the soft not-pretzel boy here."

She turned to Luka, still grinning, but it faltered at the look on his face: the brows just barely visible between his bangs, the intensity in his eyes, and the lips parted without actually saying anything.

Marinette blushed and looked away, having forgotten how utterly deadly he could be.

—————

After finding a nice set of table and chairs to sit down on, Marinette and Kalette sat on one end while Luka and Nika sat on the other. They all had soft pretzels, Kalette because it was the easiest for someone who - again - was a traitor who didn't care, and Luka for reasons she could only guess at. Perhaps it was really what he wanted, or he'd just been getting food for insurance in case Nika was still hungry, or he simply wanted to match his son.

He was so handsome. She broke off a piece of her soft pretzel and nibbled on it as she observed all the ways he'd grown up over the years. Her young teenage brain, just barely able to grasp the concept of love, did think he was handsome upon first sight, but now she could truly appreciate it. His eyes especially still had so much warmth after years and years, just as she remembered them. She couldn't say for sure if they'd changed at all actually, but at the very least, she felt even more drawn to them now.

Said eyes flicked up from his soft pretzel to meet hers. She pushed the rest of the bite in her mouth, swallowing and trying to come up with a topic of conversation, not wanting to be considered "weird" for staring without reason.

"I didn't know you had a kid," she admitted. "Jagged never told me."

Which was partially her own fault if she was honest. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in Luka's life - far from it - but she tended to change the subject whenever it came up. It felt wrong to hear about the life of someone she knew she hadn't seen in so long. She imagined that Jagged had Luka work with him on occasions like he did with her, but it'd never been at the same time.

Though, worrying that the topic of his kid might be a sensitive subject, she tried to add, "Um, you don't have to share if you don't want to."

He shrugged. "It wasn't anything serious. He was a happy accident, she didn't want a baby but didn't want to abort, and here we are."

She struggled with the idea that something so life-changing was summarized down to one sentence. She couldn't see Luka as having relations with someone unseriously, but she considered that there might've been more to it that wasn't appropriate to say in front of two kids, or to someone he'd only just met again.

"That was sweet of you," she said. "I bet you're a good dad. Being a good big brother probably carries over, right?"

He chuckled, a little shy from the praise. "I'm doing my best, but you saw that I'm not perfect."

"Now you know how it feels to be mortal like the rest of us," she teased.

The comment reminded her of a fun kid's movie she'd watched with Kalette last week. She turned to her daughter to bring it up as a new, lighter topic, but found that said daughter was no longer there. Puzzled, Marinette turned to her other side to see if Kalette had switched just as a little joke, but she wasn't there either.

Her daughter's voice then spoke from across the table, "Mister Great Uncle J's son, what do you do for your job?"

Dread washed over Marinette as she looked to where Luka was, Kalette sitting on his side opposite of Nika.

Luka, oblivious to what she was up to, smiled and answered, "I make instruments."

"Busy-ly?"

She didn't pronounce busily quite right - she might not have even known that it was a word - but he understood. "Sometimes, but Nika comes first if he needs me."

Nika averted his gaze, bashful but not unhappy to be spoken of in such a way.

Kalette nodded vigorously. "Mhm, mhm." Her eyes flicked down to his sleeve, then she grabbed onto it with both hands. "Can I see your arms?"

"Kalette!" Marinette called in a panic, face flushed and utterly mortified.

Luka, unbothered by the request, put his soft pretzel down, then pulled his sleeves back to reveal his upper arms. Marinette's next words got caught in her throat, staring even more intently than Kalette was.

She could acknowledge a pair of nice arms when she saw them. He wasn't some hyper-buff body builder, but there was noticeable muscle. It made sense for the Luka of the past, who was always decently strong from carrying around heavy musical equipment, to still have it in him.

She was so taken for that moment that she neglected to scold her daughter blatantly poking and feeling his arm. She was a little jealous, and the salt from the piece of soft pretzel she'd just finished was making her feel thirsty.

Then, Kalette declared with a beaming smile, "Mama, I want this one!" with a finger still pressing into Luka's skin.

"Hm?" Luka blinked in confusion.

Marinette snapped back to attention, her hands hitting the table. "K-Kalette!"

"He can be my daddy! He's perfect!" Kalette raised five fingers and counted off her reasoning. "He's not famous, he already has daddy training, he has strong arms to pick me up, your hair matches, and he makes stuff like you do!"

Marinette didn't think she'd ever seen Luka's face turn such a bright shade of red before. Had she not been trying to wrangle in her angel-turned-devil of a daughter, she would've found it cute.

Ah, who was she kidding? She found it cute anyway, which was part of the problem.

"Luka, I am so sorry," she said, unable to physically reach and pull her daughter back like a cat owner picking up their kitten by the scruff. "She... she does this sometimes—all the time. She gives me her opinion on the men I meet and their 'qualifications' to be my husband and her dad."

She didn't add that Luka had been the first person Kalette had ever approved of. Was that worse or better than the alternative, considering the circumstances and how unknown Luka's current feelings were to her? Nika wasn't even saying anything, totally unreadable.

Kalette pouted, protesting, "But you told me to always tell the truth!"

"Not like this!" Marinette countered, wondering how such obvious advice for a child - 'be honest' - had backfired on her.

She bit her lip, watching Luka's facial movements carefully. He was staring in her direction, but not at her face, his mouth open but not forming words.

Did Kalette break him? Was that covered by health insurance?

"I..." His mouth shut as he swallowed, running a hand through his fluffy black-and-blue hair. "I... had no idea."

She sighed in relief. He lived.

She tore another piece of soft pretzel off, trying to bring things back to somewhere casual. "This is the first time you met. Of course you had no idea—"

"—that you were single," he clarified, and it became clear then that he'd been staring at her hand before, looking for a ring just like she had to him. "I thought you were still with Adrien."

The name made her brow twitch. The embarrassment she'd felt a second ago washed away into a sea of something else entirely, her grip on her piece of soft pretzel tightening.

"Nooo!" Kalette ducked back under the table and reappeared at her original spot. She whined, trying to pry the poor thing from Marinette's hands, "You're gonna smoosh it!"

While she tried to stretch and squish the pretzel back to its original shape, Marinette let out a tired breath. Shooting Luka a sarcastic look not directed at him, she proclaimed, "Oh, yes, because why would I ever divorce Paris's golden boy, the angel among men? We were Ladybug and Chat Noir, brought together by destiny and the will of people who never left me alone."

The last part was said with extra spite, and she didn't elaborate on if she meant her friends or Paris shipping two teenagers together like they had nothing better to do with their lives. She forced herself to take a breath, having not planned to get riled up on a simple trip to the amusement park.

"Sorry—" she began to say.

"No, I... I'm sorry," Luka stammered. "I know I didn't know, but I should've."

Yet he didn't, which was crazy to her. How out of the loop was he that he missed such big news? Was it intentional on his part? Had he stayed away from news about her the same way she did for news about him?

Her next words spilled out without her meaning to; he'd always been easy to talk to. "It was years ago. The puppy love that got me through a few years of shallow dating where everything revolved around being together couldn't last when we started actually living together. That's around the time you're expected to communicate—" She intentionally said the word as if it'd been foreign to her. "—and we couldn't do that. He'd say he was fine and then blow up later, and I treated life like I was still Ladybug, where everything was on me to fix."

She placed a hand on her stomach, allowing herself a moment to think back, and her other hand went to the top of Kalette's head.

"Then I got pregnant, and I was happy." She paused for effect. "But I realized that I was already taking care of a child and one was more than enough at that age."

Luka's hand flew to his mouth to hide a chuckle that threatened to burst out. He was better at hiding it than Nika, but she still caught it.

Smiling to herself, she stroked her daughter's hair and continued, "So, I got out. Penny even planned out a nice little vacation for me so I could get away from Paris and rethink my life. I needed it; there were so many things I didn't think about until then."

His eyes narrowed in concern, wanting to ask but not sure if it was alright.

She gave a one-armed shrug, not minding. "Trauma, honestly. Turns out that being in a city you've seen destroyed in alternate timelines, were always on edge in since an akuma could attack at any time, and where you always had eyes and publicity on you no matter what form you're in isn't good for your mental health. I only ever go back so my parents and grandparents can see Kalette."

She wished she'd had a drink to sip casually from, but she made due, hoping she conveyed that she didn't need him to feel bad for her.

"It's all in the past," she insisted, and she meant it. "I'm still working out exactly what I want, but I've got a good job, a nice house, and—"

"—and me!" Kalette jumped in, setting the only semi-malformed piece of soft pretzel down on her plate so she could put both hands on the one stroking her hair.

Marinette laughed, pulling her giggly, squirmy daughter onto her lap. "I was getting there! I had to save the best for last."

Her eyes flicked back up to Luka and Nika across the table. Luka had a sad, sympathetic smile on his face, which she'd expected from him, while Nika had a fist in front of his mouth as he looked at both her and Kalette.

"I'm happy for you," Luka said, an emotion somewhere deep in his tone that she couldn't place. "I just wish I could've been there when you needed it."

He really hadn't changed at all, which made her feel even more than in the infrequent random dreams she'd had where they met again. She tried not to let it all show on her face, though her voice shook when she replied, "When you were there, it made all the difference. I know how much you cared about me."

"Care," he corrected without missing a beat. "I never stopped caring about you."

There went the whole "try not to let everything show" thing. She blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears and breaking eye contact with him. "I never stopped caring about you either. Where do you think the dye came from?"

He gaped, leaning forward in his seat. "Really?"

Kalette looked up at her, as best as she could from her place on her lap. "Really?!"

She giggled, shy at the interest but not to where she was going to lie about it. "A few years after Kalette grew up, I finally felt like I carved out a life for myself away from Paris." She still couldn't bring herself to look at him, but turned her gaze enough that she could see his face out of the corner of her eyes. "You know how some people cut their hair as a new start?"

He nodded.

"Well, I dyed mine." She ran her fingers through the pink tips of her bangs. "Kalette liked practicing doing my hair anyway, so I couldn't cut it, but... it felt right to dye it. You always looked so confident with yours, and—"

"It's amazing." Luka sounded like he'd blurted it out, which surprised her, as he'd always seemed to think through everything he said otherwise. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," she squeaked, twisting a strand of her dyed hair. "You too."

He beamed at her, reminiscent of a Luka from the past wearing her silly Kitty Section costume and confessing to her while an assortment of colored stage lights shone bright in the background. It was almost too much for her heart to take.

Nika, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke up. "Kalette?"

He'd never said the name before and it sounded odd on his tongue. Luka in particular was shocked that he'd spoken up at all.

It was also the first time the two kids had addressed each other, but Kalette replied affably, "Mhm~?"

He glanced at Luka, then Marinette, then back at Kalette. "Can we share?"

Luka and Marinette flushed all over again. Kalette, meanwhile, brightened like the sun and hit the table with her tiny fists, exclaiming, "Yeah we can!"

"Kalette!"

—————

After everyone had finished their soft pretzels (or passed them off to someone else when they were full), it was mutually agreed that they'd continue enjoying the amusement park together, and not just because Kalette and Nika wanted to. It was a chance to reconnect, and it was reigniting positive feelings that Marinette hadn't thought she'd be able to have again.

Luka put the plates in a little stack, then went along with the rest of the group to the nearest trash bin to discard them. Nika had already been holding his hand out, so Luka took it and turned to walk with him, instructing gently, "Let's go."

"Ah—wait—!"

Before Marinette had even realized it, her hand shot out and grabbed Luka's other hand. He looked back at her, immediately worried that something had gone wrong, but she hadn't tripped and there was no emergency that required hand holding of all things.

"Uh..." She trailed off, fumbling for reasoning. "I... don't want to get separated?"

It was a laughable excuse out of context - the place wasn't even crowded - but she hadn't been referring to the amusement park. Seeing him turn away from her and make any distance brought a fear that'd laid dormant for so long.

She let out a small noise as he pulled her closer. Their eyes met, his own half-lidded as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Me neither."

She couldn't bring herself to ask him if he meant it the way she'd meant it or the way it had sounded, but the knot in her stomach that had been there ever since their break-up as teens was slowly coming undone. It told her something, even if she couldn't address it at the moment.

Kalette was at her other side, bouncing excitedly and holding her other hand. She was really there, a single mom with her daughter, and now she was with Luka, a single dad with his son. To any onlookers, it really would've appeared like they were two parents taking their kids to the amusement park.

Her grip on Luka's hand tightened, determined not to let go again, and she felt him squeeze back.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #type: salt #((For like two sentences.))

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jikupikus · 3 days ago

Text

trans!curly / jimcurly / mdni

In all ways Curly is someone who Jimmy wants to be.

He’s kind, he’s handsome, he’s a leader, and people respect him. He knows what to say and when to say it, and others listen to him like how a dog listens to a master. Curly doesn’t even demand esteem, he just gets it, and it pisses Jimmy off.

It’s been that way for a while, and all Jimmy can do is stomach it. He doesn’t know what happened, what strings Curly had to pull, but he tugged those strings and is now sitting pretty on his pedestal looking down from his rosy spot onto the other crew members– onto Jimmy.

The worst part about it is that Curly isn’t even a man, or at least not one in the technical sense. Jimmy remembers when he was a scrawny little girl with poofy long blonde hair that his mom wouldn’t allow him to straighten or cut. He remembers Curly’s braces, and how he would mispronounce words and stumble over his sentences. He remembers the skirts he had to wear because he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, or anything “revealing” for that matter that wasn’t what his stuffy fucking Pentecostal parents approved of.

They met at a church that Jimmy didn’t attend with a chain link fence surrounding the perimeter overlooking a busted white trash trailer park. His mom used to talk shit about that church and how fake everyone is, how they will say “bless your heart” to her when she was on the front porch hitting the glass pipe right before CPS showed up in Jimmy’s front lawn with a nosy cop the next day.

“Remember when my mom used to have a nasty meth addiction and get so addled that she’d accuse us of stealing her spoons?” Jimmy says off handedly one day in the cockpit.

“I don’t think she liked me much,” Curly muses, brow puckering. “Then again I don’t think she liked anyone.”

Jimmy leans over in his chair, his brows creeping up his forehead. “No, she didn’t. I think the meth fried her brain,” he says. “The only time she didn’t do meth was when she was pregnant with me.”

Curly looks over, a smirk playing on his lips. “What did she do instead?”

Jimmy’s face fell, but he played it off. Curly didn’t mean anything by it, maybe. He definitely did, actually. Jimmy crosses his arms, affronted. So much for playing it off.

Sometimes Jimmy’s emotions got the better of him like now, but he can’t help the visceral annoyance that creeps up in him like an invasive vine.

“You fucker,” Jimmy spits. “She wasn’t clean, as you know. I don’t know why you had to go there, but heroin.”

Curly’s eyes flit over to Jimmy, expression apologetic in its own manipulative way. He hates how Curly wilts at any backlash; it’s pathetic in how he behaves like a kicked mutt at any ounce of criticism.

Maybe he’s a little too hard, maybe. Whatever, Curly can just deal with it.

“I… didn’t know. Sorry. I was just joking”–

“Shitty joke,” Jimmy states flatly. “Don’t know why we can’t have a conversation where you don’t make a comment at my expense. It’s kind of annoying.”

Curly’s mouth draws into a taut line, obviously affected by the weight of Jimmy’s words and how they land so heavily on his shoulders. He twists the knife regardless.

They’ve always been that way together, and Curly has always been too sensitive for his own good. Too appeasing, placating. He has never told Jimmy no nor has he ever defended himself. Jimmy thinks his leadership is ill-placed because even if he is well respected and people listen to him, he’s a big fucking pushover. It’s goddamned irritating.

He found that out when they were kids, when Curly forked over his sour gummies because Jimmy threatened to beat his nose in with a rock. Not once did he claim that Jimmy couldn’t hit a girl, nor did Curly ever use any method of defense. He gave up just like that.

Curly is the same now as he was then.

Jimmy sighs, arms unraveling. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. Don’t get so worked up over something so trivial.”

Curly deflates. He drags his hand down his face, smoothing out the lines of exhaustion that creases his skin around his nose. Dark circles paint his eyes from lack of sleep, his normally bright blue gaze dull and lacking life.

“I guess I’m more sensitive than I normally am. I haven’t slept well at all since we’ve disembarked, maybe averaging one to two hours of sleep a night.” Curly explains himself to Jimmy. It’s another compulsive habit of his, one that makes Jimmy’s heart swell.

He likes that he can wiggle his fingers in the cracks of Curly’s otherwise pristine surface. Curly is riddled with small, hairline cracks, and Jimmy knows exactly how to chip away at his vulnerabilities.

Jimmy will claw his way up Curly’s pedestal and drag him down to his level.

“You need to relax, Captain,” Jimmy presses. He takes Curly’s hand off the center console, holding it in his own rough, calloused palm as his heavy lidded gaze lingers on his friend.

Curly drags his hand out of Jimmy’s grasp and stretches. “I don’t know how to relax,” he says. It isn’t a complaint, but the truth.

In all actuality, as Jimmy knows, Curly is a tightly wound ball of anxiety. During their more intimate moments when there weren’t eyes and ears trained on them, Curly has said so himself.

Only the cockpit and sleeping chambers lack cameras. Jimmy swivels his chair, now facing the door.

“I can help you relax,” Jimmy says, turning his thoughts over in his head. “If you’ll let me, that is. If you won’t shy away like you always do. If you won’t deny me like you did when we were shitty hormonal teenagers.”

Curly’s face flares pink.

#mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimcurly #zeke writes

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aek1ra · 1 day ago

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Paris | Mark Lee

Pairing boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Mark, gets the offer of a lifetime but it means moving to Paris. Is this the start of a new future in a new city or where a great romance goes to die in the city of love.

Genre: angst, no warnings I think. Giselle and the rest of the æspa members play a small role.

Word count: 2,458

All stories are the property of © aek1ra, please do not copy, repost or translate without my permission. Thank you for your cooperation.

Friday

“I can’t stay here and be single for you, you’re my best friend why can’t you just be happy for me” you whisper shout at her in the middle of the crowded streets of Manhattan. “I am happy for you, I just don’t want you to regret this decision in the future-” she takes a deep breath and continues “look all I’m saying is that you’ve given up a lot for this relationship and this is one more thing he’s asking you to give up. Moving to Paris isn’t your dream y/n you’re chasing after him.”

You heard her loud and clear, in fact you knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as you hate to admit you had been thinking the same thing for weeks now but how could you let him go. He was the missing puzzle piece, no he was the image you’re left with after the puzzle is completed. You had everything a girl in her mid twenties could ask for, the apartment in your dream city, the expensive shoes, the dream job and the dream boy. or at least you thought. No, you did and besides you’re not giving up your dream you’re simply moving it across an ocean. Yes, they have nice apartments in Paris, expensive shoes and people read magazines everywhere. It would take some time to find a job and some friends but once you got settled things would be the same, right?

“I heard you, now let's drop this conversation I already quit my job and besides we leave tomorrow” you retort, taking a sip of your coffee hoping the warm beverage will help the lies come out smoother. She doesn’t say anything for a moment in fact you forget she’s even there. 1 beat 2 beats. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to us? You can quit your job, throw away your shoes, hell even your hopes and dreams for some boy, but are we, am I that disposable to you.” pause “Actually you know what never mind, forget I said anything. Have a nice life y/n”

3 beats, 4 beats. And with that you were left in the silence again except this time she really was gone.

You walk into your shared apartment anxiously toying with your keys, the previous conversation replaying in your mind.

“Baby your home, can you help me with the-” he stops mid-sentence seeing the tears well up in your eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong? Things didn’t go well with Aeri, I take it?” you nod finally letting the tears you’d been holding all night cascade down your face. Mark is quick to pull into his chest, one arm around your waist pulling you in close, rubbing circles on your back. “She hates me. I don’t know why she can’t see things from my point of view. Everyone but her is happy for us, she’s my best friend and her opinion means the world to me. I mean she was my best friend.” you say in between sobs.

He continues to listen as you drone on about her not understanding your feelings under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights.

You were going to tell them, you did plan on saying goodbye but everything happened so fast. Mark had gotten offered the deal of a lifetime last week and asked you to move with him. Although it was sudden you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And with the long list of things you had to get done before the move like; putting the apartment up for sale, handing in your notice at work, packing, passports, visas, you simply forgot to deliver the good news to your family and friends.

When you called your parents this morning they expressed their excitement seeing you going on this adventure, truthfully they were just happy you’re happy, they know just how much you and Mark love each other. The other girls, Jimin, Minjeong and Yizhuo were all happy for you even if you knew deep down they had the same reservations as Aeri. She was the only person who didn’t seem to understand, or the only one not cowardly enough to say it out loud. She’ll come around eventually, right?

After 15 minutes of effectively soaking your boyfriend's t-shirt he breaks the silence “come on” he starts as he cups your face softly in his hands wiping the last of the tears away, “let's get you to bed, we still have a few things to do before our flight tomorrow”. And with that you let him lead you to the bedroom thoughts of your friendship pushed to the back of your mind as the excitement and slight anxiety takes over.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday morning, First day in Paris

Before you knew it you were in Paris, standing in the lobby of the infamous Ritz Carlton. The company had booked a 5 night stay for you both while the deal was being finalised. Mark went off to get your room key while you stood admiring the crystal chandelier hanging above you. It was mesmerising, dazzling, the main star, the sun, the other lights danced around. He was standing at the front desk a few steps away, the lights above him creating a spotlight on him. There he was, your crystal chandelier, your sun and you were his earth quietly, forever orbiting around him.

“Hey” his voice snaps you out of your haze, “let’s head up stairs yeah” he takes your hand in his, the sound of hurried footsteps and soft giggles are all that's left as you both disappear into the elevator.

Ding!

You come to a stop on the top floor, the Imperial suite. The view up here was stunning. Breathtaking. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, every morning you would be waking up to two of the most beautiful views, the Eiffel tower and your boyfriend.

Thump. There it was, that feeling again, you had been feeling this pang in your heart, a sort of longing like something was missing. If you were being honest you had been feeling this since your talk with Aeri yesterday, more specifically after she left standing alone outside your apartment.

The faint sound of a phone ringing pulls you out of your thoughts, you watch your boyfriend talk to someone on the phone, probably his manager.

“Right now?”

“No, that's fine I’ll be there. Can you give me 20 minutes? I'll shower and meet you at the studio.” he hangs up the phone making his way towards you. He stands in front of you staring in your eyes, “I’m so sorry I know we said we would spend the day together before I got too busy. But I promise you I’ll be back before 7, we’re still on for dinner right beautiful?”

Mhm. You hum in response planting a quick peck on his lips “don’t worry about me I’ll go shopping for our date tonight.”

To be quite honest you were upset it hadn’t even been 24 hours and he was already too busy for you. Who were you kidding, did you really think it would be different, Manhattan to Paris the only change was your address. Maybe he just had no more room in his life for you. No, it sounded urgent, probably something with the contract, a typo or something. You’re a big girl, you can spend the day alone in the hotel room, or better yet go out and buy yourself a new dress for dinner tonight.

“Besides I think I’ll go out and check out the stores around the area” he gives you one last squeeze before letting go and making his way into the shower.

Tshhh

The sound of the shower water interrupts the quiet of the room, wishing the water could just wash away all your worries.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday night

Standing in front of the mirror admiring yourself in the strapless Versace dress you purchased earlier on. The sneaking suspicion that Mark wasn’t going to make it home starts to creep up on you. He was always doing that, making plans with you and cancelling at the last minute, sometimes not even showing up and forgetting to call. You know how important his work is to him and how crazy his schedule can get sometimes. At the start of your relationship he made a point to always let you know if he was going to be late, sending flowers on the days he misses a date. But as time went on the flowers and calls started to slow down eventually coming to a stop. I mean you knew he didn’t mean to, you didn’t need gifts to know that he never meant to forget you, he never meant to keep you waiting.

The clock finally strikes seven and you’re sitting on the small couch at the end of the hallway, opposite the front door. Dazedly staring at the front door willing it to open, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Seven o’clock becomes eight, eight becomes nine, eventually it's Ten and you tire of waiting around so you decide to head to bed.

It’s a quarter to Midnight when Mark returns, you spent the past thirty minutes tossing and turning, head full of questions, where could he be, was he alone, was he even thinking about you. He walks into the room, no he stumbles in knocking over a few perfume bottles that were on the dresser. You feign sleep, you're suddenly hit with the smell of alcohol. The bed dips next to you and soon enough you feel this lips on your cheeks, a quick bittersweet lingering kiss. The smell of alcohol is so overpowering you start to get dizzy. You feel a new emotion, not hurt, not disappointment, not hurt, but for the first time ever you were angry at him. While you were worried sick that he could’ve been somewhere out there lost in this foreign country where neither of you speak the language, or worse out dead in a ditch somewhere he was out drinking. Mark could be careless, inattentive, forgetful whatever you want to call it but never was he stupid.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday morning

The sun rose at 7 this morning, you hadn’t slept at all last night, thoughts of what your future would look like if you decided to live here with him. Mark starts to stir in his sleep, finally waking up. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his chest murmuring a quick “good morning beautiful”. When you don’t respond he shifts slightly, lifting his head off the bed to get a good look at your face.

“Baby, hey I’m sorry time just got away from me-” he starts, but you think it's pointless listening to the same speech you’ve heard all these nights before. Mark was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, that is when he’s not too consumed by his work. You see for him everything else would always come second to his love for music, and maybe one day you would be strong enough to handle that truth.

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot myself” you interrupt him before he can finish, “You have to get going, you’re going to be late for your important meeting.” you say albeit a bit too venomously for your liking, quickly sliding out of the bed and opting to sit by the window.

“y/n” he starts but decides against it, instead deciding to give you your space.

At 8:30am you hear the door to your room close signalling Mark has left for the day. You guys barely spoke to each other at breakfast, a silent dance of tension. Every few minutes you’d shoot him a soft smile in an attempt to show him you’re not mad, or in an attempt to lie to yourself.

You had planned on going to see the cute cafes today while Mark was at his meeting, but after the events of last night you decide to stay in and wallow in self pity. Plus you have to console yourself before the dinner tonight with some music company executive that Mark kept droning on and on about on the flight over. You know this dinner is super important for his deal and no argument between the two will get in the way of that. So you swallow your hurt and anger, and decide to waste your time watching some random French drama.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday night

At exactly 7pm Mark walks int through the front door. Of course he’s always

The happy couple, you walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Mark’s manager greets you guys at the door, ushering you both to join the rest of the party inside.

“Mark, I want you to meet Mr. Devon” his manager announces pushing Mark towards the older gentlemen.

As he let go of your hand for what felt like the millionth time, your picture perfect dream was starting to crumble all around you. All the painful memories, all the nights he left you waiting around for him, all the times he put his work, friends, colleagues before you, all the broken promises and forgotten dates.. Yes, forgotten, like you had forgotten your friends like they were something to check off a to-do list. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him, not really, no. Mark, he was only chasing after what was important to him, and that wasn’t you, not anymore.

With your head hung low, you quietly make your way to your seat.

Once Mark is done making the rounds saying his hellos, he takes his seat next to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. And as you stare aimlessly down at your interlocked fingers, you catch a glimpse of the classouses on his hands from hours and hours of strumming his guitar mindlessly while writing lyrics. It then becomes painfully obvious to you, you don’t belong here, at least not with him, not now, it was time for you to let go, let him run as fast and far as he can, chasing after his dreams. Slowly removing your hand from his you plant a soft kiss on his cheek letting your lips linger for a second before you whisper your last words of the night to him “I love you, I’m sorry for doing this to you tonight but I wish you the best Mark”. You walk out of the restaurant refusing to look back, too afraid that one look into his beautiful tear filled irises would make you crumble on the spot.

Au revoir mon amour, if the universe wills it surely we’ll meet again.

(Note: Hi 👋🏽 if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading for first ever fic. I started writing this based on Carrie & Miranda’s argument and then just let the story take me where ever. I’m thinking of maybe giving it a part 2, what do you think?)

#nct #nct dream #mark lee #nct 127 #mark nct #mark lee x reader #mark angst #mark lee angst #nct x reader #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshot #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader

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sarbear94 · 2 days ago

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Because Evan-

(It’s a long one…sorry not sorry 😘)

Okay…. I’ve been rewatching some old Buddie scenes because of the potential of Eddie moving back to El Paso and…. excuse my language but…. What the fuck?

It’s like the writers are new or don’t know what to do with Eddie anymore. Or like someway, somehow the episodes are out of order.

In THAT scene, Buck asks “he has grandparents, family” and Eddie reply’s “After Shannon left, they tried to guilt me into giving Christopher to them. It wasn’t what I wanted then, it’s not what I want now.” They then both agreed that no one would fight harder for Chris than Buck.

So WHY THE FUCK haven’t either of them gotten him back yet??

Eddie started season 7 with Marisol and Chris and everyone’s fine. Then Chris is dating multiple girls (Eddie is baffled and doesn’t know how to handle it so he asks Buck for help) and said it has to do with his mom to Buck and we get that EMOTIONAL shot of Eddie devastated after hearing this. Then proceeds to give him a letter to bring about closure for him. Eddie seemed to already have closure or at least repressed it.

Then Eddie meets Kim…. And the Eddie we have loved for 6 seasons is IMMEDIATELY GONE. He does the exact same thing that he told Buck about Christopher was not okay And needed to be fixed (he was BEGGING Buck for help).

Like, my dude, how did you think this was gonna go? You kept everyone in the dark. Your son, your best friend, your GIRLFRIEND and even Kim! What was his end goal? It doesn’t make any sense.

Like I understand that if Gavin wasn’t gonna be around next season, and you need to write him off but have him potentially come back, there were several ways you could have done that but still kept true to the characters. Have Chris go to a boarding school. Or a school trip. Or literally ANYTHING ELSE! Then season 8, keep the Kim storyline, but Chris is already gone and doesn’t witness it. Cause now that whole confession thing with Kim pretending to be Shannon and actually get closure was pointless. If they’d done that with Chris gone, he’d have the closure. Work on the PTSD crawling back up in an empty house, keep the Priest and finding Joy and then keep that for a bit and then heal.

That was a whole side tangent really for the main point I was trying to make, but why does Eddie- lose Chris, grow a mustache, grieve for not having his son, have an episode where a Priest says “let yourself have Joy,” then take it away in the next couple of episodes by saying “I’m thinking of moving to Texas” based on the words of a psycho actor??

Chris is a TEENAGER! Hell- he might still be a preteen, grow the fuck up and go parent your son. You’ve put your foot down before, why is this any different?? After a few weeks, I would have been like “nope, we’re done with this. I get I fucked up, but I’m still your dad so we are gonna talk about this and figure out some common ground.” I understand feeling guilty and not wanting to push him even farther away but you’re not even trying! Phone calls don’t show “I want you here with me,” it says “I’m okay with you being gone.”

You’re thinking moving to El Paso is a great idea… but it’s not. Your parents suck. You know this. YOU MOVED HALF WAY ACROSS THE US TO GET AWAY FROM THEM FOR A REASON! I get you patched things up slightly, but not enough.

ALSO! Why wasn’t Buck an option?!? Because of Tommy? I get because Gavin being out of the show(temporarily?) would have made that impossible but why wasn’t it even mentioned? I mean, He’s run to him before, he’s called him when Eddie had his breakdown and Chris didn’t know what to do. But like THEY HAD THE WILL, why wasn’t it even a factor in this. At the time, it felt like, at least to Chris, that Eddie was incapable of taking care of him, which means that Chris should go to Buck. Not his grandparents.

I just don’t understand what they are doing with these two. E and C. Bucks got his bisexual journey(relationship with Tommy). Bobby has multiple storylines. The Hans had the Mara and new baby storylines. Hen and Karen had the Ortiz/Mara and Denny/Halloween storylines. Athena has literally any storyline involving cops. And all those storylines make sense for each character. Eddie’s and Chris’s doesn’t. They keep pushing Eddie to be sad then happy then making stupid decisions. DEVELOP YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER! You’ve been dropping the ball since at least the network switch. Which I find super funny because yes, he does the emotional scenes super amazing but now it seems like his character is more open. He’s making more funny faces, he’s got the loose hair, he makes comedic jokes. But he’s almost(so close) to reminding me of Buck 1.0.. but it doesn’t fit with the storyline at all. At least to me…

Like does anyone agree with any of this? Am I just seeing things? Did the writers get told Gavin was leaving too late and made this story on the fly and rolled with it? Does Ryan want out of the show and they are keeping it under wraps? Like WHAT IS HAPPENING? Make it make sense!

Ps. I did not proofread this before posting so if something doesn’t make sense, let me know. I was just trying to get down all my thoughts on this. Currently me vvv

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #because evan #911 spoilers #911 writers #weewoo show #help my sanity #character development

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radfemtasy · 2 days ago

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The RG Kar incident which took place on 9th August is the most horrific incident we've ever found. I know about the Nirbhaya case and how it's horrific, but this one? This one will give you the shivers if you know the full story. Many of y'all have heard about it, but I see less people on Tumblr and any other social media talking about it. Also, the fact that the protest is still alive but the case disappeared from the media shows how this country is a shitty place with people judging us, women.

If y'all don't know the full story, here it is. TW: rape, murder (not even your ordinary murder), mentions of suicide. So, you're warned.

The college, RG Kar (in Kolkata) is that same college where sex racket and drug racket have been ongoing. What I found out about the suicides of students is that they were clearly murdered. Why? Because they had found out about this and had threatened to expose them. One of them was hanged with a nylon (?) thread and police questioned how it was posible to commit suicide like that. I mean, with nylon? That's absurd. Now, about Sandeep Ghosh. Yeah, that dickhead is also involved in this whole dirty mess, the sex rackets and all. Not only that, dead bodies were also, yk, done the worst (not going into details because y'all can figure it out) in the name of pornography. Now I know why Andrea Dworkin said about pornography, that it's clear rape. No questions asked. What's worse is that several students had been involved in this.

Let's go to that woman. Now, an audio of an RG Kar student revealed that Debnath (one of her colleagues) found out about this and had threatened them to expose to the authorities. Little did she know, bam bam bam, the authorities were a part of the sex racket! YOU HEARD ME?! THEY WERE INVOLVED TOO! Now, after she threatened to also expose them on social media, the authorities did the worst to her. They had threatened that if she did this, they would not allow her to graduate. A colleague (Ig she was her friend?) had a bf who was also involved in that sex racket thing. But but but, to defend her bf, the colleague confronted Moumita. The victim was threatened for 6 months, her car was vandalised and she was made to work for 36 hours. Poor girl! They (the authorities) had chosen that particular day to finally 'eliminate' her. DID YOU SEE HOW THIS WAS PLANNED?! Okay, I'll just ask this question at the end.

Students would go to that seminar hall to sleep, but on that day authorities told all the students to not sleep on that seminar hall because 'something is being executed'. Only Moumita was told to sleep in that seminar hall. ALONE! And the worst happened. Some guys grabbed her; one trapped her left hand while the other trapped her right. Another broke her legs in 90 degrees, perpendicular to her torso! They broke her pelvic region, slashed and murdered her in the worst was possible! Another worst thing was that the colleague, whose bf was involved in this, was also involved in her murder.

After they were 'done', they told that Sanjay Roy guy to do whatever he wanted to do with the dead body. And that's how 150gm of semen was found! PSYCOPATHS CAUSE IT WAS NOT JUST MURDER, BUT GANG-RAPE! (Edit: someone told me that it's false based on the report the CBI found out, idek whether it's true or not. I mean, is it?)

Parents were told that she had commited 'suicide' and were also told to wait for 3 FUCKING HOURS! Once they saw her dead body, they couldn't believe it! How can their daughter commit suicide in such a heinous condition? Bones broken, eyes pierced, blood---okay I don't wanna go further. Her body was cremated in such a hurried way that parents couldn't even see her properly for the last time!

Now, y'all know how this was planned. Government, police, every person involved in politics are also linked to this case, becuase few days later a mob of 300 people destroyed the seminar hall and the evidences in the name of 'renovation'. Imagine how creepy and disgusting it sounds.

I've also heard that the son of a TMC (Trinamool Congress) was also involved in this (?) according to a document. And Mamata Banerjee? Oh fuck no! Don't tell me about this old hag, this fucking old lady. She called her characterless, said that she had an affair with someone and was pregnant! Truth to behold, she was also involved in defending and protecting those people involved in the murder. THE REAL REASON SHE'S PROTESTNG IS BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW SHE'S ALSO BEHIND ALL OF THIS!

Now, non-Indian ladies, when I said don't even visit India, I mean it. It's the world's shittiest country, unsafe for women. It's also quite disgusting that Indian men have a fetish for Slavic woman. My mother, an Indian, is also questioned whether she is from outside or not because she doesn't look 'Indian' to them. She's been eyed by those creeps for her 'foreign' looks and her attire.

Now, waiting for all those 'proud' Indians belittling me and telling me how their country has the lowest rape cases, 'cause they actually mean, "come to India. You're completely safe with us, not until we rape you in silence 'cause we have a fetish for hot and sexy women like you!"

Now y'all know why I said 'not your ordinary murder' story. This needs to be read, seen, known! Please share this to everyone! She needs to be heard! THESE GUYS ARE MONSTERS! MONSTERS! 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

Edit: Forgot to tell y'all that after the incident, Ghosh resigned and was appointed as the principal of another school! What a disgusting lil pig with a dick as size microscopically small as a bacteria!

Edit 2: I may or may not have found out that some reports are actually false, which I didn't know. But yes, the rest is true.

Edit 3: If y'all wanna know about it, there are videos about it (links are given in reblogs too)

#justice for moumita #moumita debnath #radical feminist community #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #radfemblr #radfeminism #radical feminism #radblr #radical feminists please interact #radical feminist #desiblr #desi blog #desi rant #desi tumblr

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more-than-a-princess · 3 days ago

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It was then that the pain she'd felt began to fade. Sonia had half-mumbled a 'thank you' to those who had helped her up, but her focus was elsewhere. Not of the bruises she'd likely develop or the crowd's commotion. But of the fact that Shinobu had insisted the situation, the fight, was a family affair.

Sonia looked over the man she'd been escorting around campus: through the blood and swelling in his features, she noticed a similar jawline, similarly shaped eyes, a beauty mark in the exact same place on their faces. Shinobu's hair was a deep shade of red, clearly dyed, while his was left as a more naturally-occurring shade, and yet they were undeniably related. His reflexes were sharp like hers, but his gaze was softer, kinder, less intimidating. He lacked the pressure, Sonia realized, that Shinobu was under, and in return he smiled, entirely unconcerned with the obsession of talents that Hope's Peak had. Maybe he had been an Archer at one point, but from his distinct absence from Shinobu's home the time she was permitted to visit, she had a feeling he was an archer for the Yaguchi family no more.

It was then that Anzu had pushed through, Sonia so deep in her thoughts that she barely noticed her make her way through the crowd. But her efforts to dissuade Shinobu were equally in vain. She felt frozen in place: if even Anzu had no effect on stopping her, what chance did anyone else have? Shinobu was in a fit of rage that seemingly no one understood, including her brother, and yet she refused to stop. She wouldn't, likely until he stopped breathing. That second year student had gone to get help, hadn't he? She couldn't imagine what the school's Board of Governors would think of this-

But all thoughts of verbal punishments, suspensions and expulsions and the like, were silenced as a larger, burlier figure than Anzu's made his way forward. And unlike her, the crowd parted easily for him: Sakakura-sensei was intimidating even just standing still, but with anger and disappointment over his face? Even some of the alumni shivered, and they might have very well been his classmates. But niceties and barked orders were ignored in favor of Sakakura's fist being firmly planted in Shinobu's cheek. Harder than her brother may have retaliated in defense. Perhaps even harder than Shinobu herself had thrown at him.

But hard enough to bring Shinobu Yaguchi down, a shriek ripping out of Sonia's throat before she even realized she was screaming. "SHINOBU!" She cried out, causing several turned heads to look at her, assuming Sonia Nevermind was just another one of Cold Prince Shinobu-kun's many fangirls. Not that Sonia paid any heed to the stares: her hands were clapped over her mouth in shock. At Shinobu's defeat, at the fact she'd just screamed her given name, terribly rude and informal, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear.

"Wait, hold on, what are you doing!?" She demanded. She probably should have seen to the elder Yaguchi, as she'd been responsible for showing him around campus. But for the meantime, she passed him, bleeding and bruised and likely bewildered about what had just happened, to reach out for Juzo Sakaura's free arm. His other hand was occupied in dragging Shinobu to her feet, presumably to haul her off somewhere the visiting alumni would not have to interact with her. Considering she'd beaten one of their own to a near pulp, it would only tarnish the school's image further to keep her around. "Where are you taking her, Sakakura-sensei?"

"It's none of your business, Princess!" He shouted back, forgoing the respect of utilizing her last name as teachers were supposed to. Frustration barely held back, he seemed to be in no mood to deal both with an angered Shinobu Yaguchi and a girl with way too much power and authority showing a large amount of concern for her. A call from Sonia Nevermind's parents was enough to make every school staffer's life hell, and if Masaru Yaguchi decided to press charges against his own sister, well...the Board of Governors would make things difficult for Kyosuke Munakata.

And Jin Kirigiri, but that was beside the point.

"This is a family matter, Miss Nevermind. Please don't interfere." For an instant, Shinobu had turned her attention to Sonia, a flicker of clearf concern overriding her features until she'd quickly determined that the other girl had sustained no great harm - except, perhaps, to her pride. It was understandable that she'd felt the need to interfere at first - Sonia was a kind person, after all, and must have mistakenly believed that she was breaking up some other sort of altercation. Perhaps now she realized her error. Up close, they wondered if she could see the ways in which their faces were similar - their eyes, their lips, their jawlines, even the same mark under the bottom left side of their mouths.

Still, given the choice, Shinobu would have preferred that Sonia not see her like this. There was no coming back from this sort of impression, was there? Shinobu had long been considered some sort of violent beast by a number of her classmates and peers, and surely this moment, with her brother's blood on her hand, would cement that belief for Sonia as well. Beneath the searing hot rage, they could feel the faintest pangs of disappointment and regret - but what else could they do? She'd wanted Masaru dead for years, and she wouldn't pass up the chance for her revenge so easily, not when it might never come again.

"Shinobu-chan! Stop!" The sound and sight of a small crowd assembling had been Anzu's first clue as to where Shinobu was, and though it stung to know she was too late to stop anything from beginning, she could at least try to shield her best friend from the worst of it. Maybe if everything stopped right now, she'd get off with just a slap on the wrist. "I know you're really, really angry, but try to calm down! If you don't, you might not be able to come back from this!" If she got expelled, it was over - everything would be over.

Anzu... Well, she was looking out for them, wasn't she? So like her, a girl who had pushed down her negativity in favor of a permanent smile, making herself the butt of every joke, a clownish jester by design. What could she possibly understand about this? "Stay out of this, Anzu," Shinobu barked, as Masaru barely caught her fist. "This has nothing to do with you, either, so don't get involved." This wasn't supposed to be such a spectacle. Dammit, why was everyone so irritating?

It had been a while since Masaru had needed to be quick - needed to be tough, needed to anticipate. The bar was a gentle place, where he could let the world melt away for himself, and for anyone else who needed it, when he sat behind his piano. His greatest concerns in the moment were if someone needed a refill, or if the crowd was more in the mood for "Embraceable You" or "Cantaloupe Island." That said, he hadn't lost his touch. He'd lived his teenage years jumpy and skittish, always reacting to something or other. Someone trying to hit him wasn't something he was inexperienced with, and if all he had to do was dodge and block, he could keep it up all day.

If only it were that easy. "Shinobu...?" He hadn't looked too closely, but they were wearing makeup, weren't they? And now, thinking about it, that jacket sat a bit strangely on their chest, didn't it? As a voice called out, he couldn't help but look. That person was... Anzu? And behind, "Haruna..." He wasn't ready to see her - not ready to apologize for everything, even as his red eyes lingered on her amber ones, watching her watching him.

"Don't look away from me!" Her palm crashed against Masaru's cheek in the moment of distraction, before she followed it up with drilling her fist against his mouth, spurting blood out from his lip as his teeth sliced against the inside. His concentration was broken, and Shinobu took advantage to drag Masaru to the ground, one knee on either side of him as she threw punch after punch towards his face. Anzu, Sonia, Haruna, they were all just distractions! This was about her, and her life, and her pain - nobody else's.

"It's just never enough for you, is it?" She'd meant to see him dead at the estate, laid in the rock garden or on the polished dojo flooring as if to say to her father, 'he's gone, and I'm not just a replacement anymore!' This, though... this would do, in a pinch. If she had to kill him on school grounds, to tell the world that there was only one Ultimate Archer, then so be it. "You stole from me my childhood, my happy family, my future, my LIFE!" Each indignity she'd suffered paired with another strike, blood starting to coat her knuckles. "And now, when almost everyone has forgotten you, when that hideous specter you cast over me has almost faded, you show up again to steal my friends, to steal whatever meager life I've pulled together!"

In some recess of her mind, Shinobu was aware that a hand was at her back, fingers curling and bunching up the fabric of her jacket. "I hate you! Just die!" Before she could continue punching, she was spun around, and a meaty fist collided with her face. For a moment, Shinobu wondered if she even had an eye anymore - if the punch had blown her eyeball free of its socket. She crumpled instantly, legs losing all stiffness as she dropped to the side, cradling her face with both hands, barely clinging to consciousness. No. No! Just a moment more, please, just enough time to kill...

#quickdeaths #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia uses Shinobu's given name out loud for the first time)#(And Sakakura looks at her like 'The Princess is one of the fangirls now? Didn't know she liked girls.')#(Not that Sonia herself has figured that out yet shh-)#(I also figured if you wanted him to reprimand Shinobu for her behavior you could pick him up to yell at her or something)

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kittycat-92 · 11 months ago

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JUST FINISHED WATCHING THE LAST EPISODE OF MLP. i am feeling things i cannot express

#AJGSGNSJGSGJGJJGJG ITS ALL SO WEIRD #my predictions for the end of the show was 'world peace'#and i guess they did achieve world peace. everything is good in the end #i also thought that maybe cozy tirek and chrysalis would have a redemption arc. since this show has a thing for making villains friends.#because its about friendship. but oh well it didnt happen sucks to be them lmao #also cozy glow makes me so confused like???? shes just a kid and shes so evil???#like girl what did they do to you. where are even your parents #last time i saw fictional kids being this evil was when i watched a youtubers Kindergarten gameplay #the kids in that game are insane. play at your own risk lol.#anyway i want to cry so hard because i just finished mlp #my little pony #my little pony: friendship is magic #mlp #my little pony season 9 #post

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deathsmallcaps · 4 months ago

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I work as the person in an amusement park who watches the children who get lost. Here’s some advice. This also applies to any mentally disabled adults that are under your care. Keep in mind that many places will not look for a minor ages 13-17 unless it is close to closing or they are disabled, as corporate considers it a strain on resources and employee use.

1. Teach them your phone number. Best gift you can give them. I’m not supposed to have my phone out at work but I can cut down dependent’s being-lost-time by probably 400% if I can contact you. It also assures the children That We Are Doing Something and that They Are Helpful and Smart. If your dependent has a poor memory, apparently writing your phone number in sharpie and then covering it in nail polish makes it stay all day, even if they’re sweaty or getting in the water. I haven’t tested this but I’ve heard a lot of moms recommend it. I’ve also seen bracelets with little plates or the beads saying the phone number.

Addendum: your dependent may tell you that they know your phone number, but they actually only know your passcode. True story. This summer has been a lot better, but last summer exactly one child the entire season knew his mom’s phone number.

2. Acknowledge that dependent’s memories are faulty, especially in new places. If you tell them to meet you in X spot or that your stuff is all in Y place, they may not remember where it is or remember how to get there.

3. All dependents, but especially little ones, have shit time sense. They might find your stuff, wait there for a minute or two, and truly believe that they’ve been there for an hour. Half the small kids that are brought to me are ones who *know* where their stuff is, but haven’t seen an adult they know personally in 5 minutes, so they’re going to panic.

4. Don’t take naps!!! And don’t let your dependent go anywhere you can’t go or at least go where you catch them at the end!!! Yes you’re staring at the play structure your dependent entered, but can you see them? No? Then there’s a good chance they went elsewhere. So many of the littler kids that are brought to me are brought by genuine, good-hearted strangers who see lost children and take them by the hand. Away from the spot you’re napping in front of/staring vaguely at.

5. This might just be something from my work, but we will not call dependent’s descriptions over the loudspeaker. This is because if an asshole were to see your dependent, hear the description, know it’s a lost dependent, and decide to steal it, they can then use the excuse, “I know where your guardian is! Come with me!” And then lead them out of the park or toss the dependent over their shoulder. Do you know how many crying and screaming dependents leave the location every day? A lot!!! We’re a fun location!!! We’re not going to know if the dependent is screaming because they don’t want to leave or if a stranger is taking them away. We might call the description over the loudspeaker if it’s past closing time and the dependent still isn’t found. But before that, we will only report it over secure radios across the park.

6. Tell a park worker right away. Preferably someone with a radio. Even if you spot the dependent within the next minute, that means the dependent will have less being-lost time. Especially if we already have the dependent with, you guessed it, me. Also please tell us when you find the dependent.

7. Take a picture of your depdendent at the start of the day! That way security guards can have a good idea of what to look for. One mother told me her daughter was blonde and showed me a picture. Her hair color looked brown to me, but then I knew what to look for in the crowd.

8. Keep at least one person in your group in one spot at all times, especially if you don’t have access to your phone or forgot to give out your phone number to the guards. That way they can find you if they pick up the dependent. If you are the only person in your group, then PLEASE stay in one place or at least stay with ONE security guard. It sucks for the dependent if they can’t find you right away even if the both of you are looking for each other and a guard is helping them. You are NOT helping if you panic and run around. And keep your goddamn phone on you and answer calls from unknown numbers!!!!! God. This is a good time to do that.

9. If you lose your dependent in an attraction like the lazy river at a water park, and you have that ONE person staying in place, then this is what you can do with 1+ mobile people.

A. If only one person can be spared to be mobile, have them pick a spot and stay right there, watching the river go by. Eventually, if the dependent is in the river, they’ll go by.

B. If you have two people that can be mobile, both start at the same place in the river and go opposite directions. If you meet up again without spotting the dependent, well, they’re not there.

C. If you have more than 2 people, you can do B but also station different adults at the lazy river entrances/exits.

10. Don’t blame the dependent! Even if they ran away and/or are pissy that you’re upset once you all reunite, trust me, there’s a 99% chance they’re upset too. Yes, this is a good time to have a serious conversation with them. Yes, if this is a repeated problem, and/or you warned them you’d leave the park if this occurred, you should not back down. But also - they’re dependents. They’re not stupid, and they should be told consequences and dangers so they can make good decisions, but they will never have the adult/guardian perspective that you do. Be kind.

Also please for my sake teach them if they’re brought to someone like me, that it’s THEIR job to be safe and listen to me while us park workers look for you. It’s YOUR job to find the dependent, not the dependent’s job to find you. I had a six year old little girl genuinely toddler-howl at me because she wanted to go look for her mom. I’ve never before heard a kid her age howl like that. I can trick kids out of crying 9/10 times but howling came as a surprise lmao. I think I can manage it now that I’ve experienced it but damn.

Also make sure those kids are DRINKING. Being in a water park is NOT the same as drinking water. They should be drinking every 15 minutes at LEAST, I am NOT kidding.

Also if I call you to tell you your kid is here, please don’t call or text me back after you have the kid. I’m sure other places have phones for these types of things but the only one I have is my personal phone. And I am happy to get the kid off my hands and into your arms, but I’m using my personal phone so plz. Don’t call me back. Absolutely call me if you need directions to my ‘office’ in the park. Don’t call or text me after. I have stories about that hoo boy but this post is already long.

#I am not exaggerating when I say howling #not in a wolf way more like a howler monkey if you have no idea what human toddler cries sound like #I like kids of all ages but there’s a reason why #I’m not going to teach elementary school #I am the person in the *place I work* where if a kid is lost #the staff brings the kid to me until the parents are found #so like. I’m never going to see these kids at their best #I wish I could just hug them but I’m barely allowed to hold their hand if I’m escorting them to get water #this time of year their emotions are heightened by the fact that they’re almost certainly dehydrated #but if they’re a flight risk I do NOT want to risk losing the kid #so I have to wait until #a coworker comes by to get them some water sometimes #the howler girl = this kid #this kid was reunited with her mom without too much time going by thank god #she was a huge fucking flight risk omg #she desperately wanted to go find her mom and I’m like #GIRL you are the lost six year old ITS YOUR MOM’S JOB TO FIND YOU!!! Your job is to stay safe!!!#and color this pretty picture oh god please look back at the coloring page instead of calling upon the hounds of hell #I like to assure every kid that is brought to me that #1. mom’s (or whoever) not going to leave without you (sometimes this is a lie judging from the parents.still very important to tell kids thi #2. they did the right thing asking for an adult’s help #3. as they are literally a kid it’s not their fault they’re lost (again a little debatable with the older kids but still they’re minors)(so #I tell them all this)#4. it’s their job to stay safe while we find your mom #5. now do you want some water?#it’s more obvious in the pale kids but I’ve had so many Black and Brown kids come up to me the last couple days looking positively pink #those kids needed water. so I try to get everyone water #it pisses off my coworkers but idgaf. everyone has a legal right to water in this state esp in the summer #and even if they didn’t #fuck you I’m stealing it. these kids need water

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inbabylontheywept · 3 months ago

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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

#whew boy this make me anxious just typing it #wrestling #middle school #the dread #i feel like i have to write some stories about my grandpa not being a dick #because he was actually an amazing grandpa #he just had a few goofs are very comedic moments #and you know if you're gonna have a goof making it comedic is a virtue in itself #he was there for me more than a lot of my classmates dads were #and i dont want that undervalued #yeah #babylon-lore

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