#luckily i am an adult now and if i want to seek help i can. just do it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

decamarks · 2 years ago

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Hey there! First off I want to say I *adore* your art, you absolutely 1000% perfectly tap into the vibe and style of late 90's/early 00's 3D models in a way literally no one else does. I think about your art of your fake games' glitches (especially the forum post!!! it's. *perfect.*) all the time :)

And I've noticed how you're always very insightful and kind whenever you answer asks, so thank you for that!

If it's not too intrusive to ask, I was wondering how you went about finding a doctor to get your autism diagnosis? I've been pretty sure for a few years now that I'm on the spectrum, but I've never had a clue how to actually get tested/diagnosed. Especially since I'm an adult female too, and I've heard a ton about how autism is really overlooked/underdiagnosed for people like us.

But seeing that you were able to find someone who avoided all the common pitfalls and was able to actually help you made me want to reach out. I had been wanting to ask you this for a while (as you can probably tell based on what the question was haha) but I was too anxious to actually do it (still am, a bit ><). Again, feel free to ignore this part if it's too personal or you don't want to answer it for any reason!

It feels awkward to end an ask with that, so I'll bookend it with something I think you'll like: have you ever heard of trsrockin.com? It's an old fansite I used to visit religiously as a kid that talked about early Pokemon and Super Mario games and collectibles from them, as well as oddities like glitches from the aforementioned games, forgotten weird one-off SNES games, documenting fake/trick fanmade "cheats" for games, and bootleg merchandise.

It's one of if not the first public place (afaik) that MissingNo. and pals were discovered/talked about, and a little community came together to try and figure out why the glitch happened and what all the effects and variants of it were. Even you've been to trsrockin before and none of this is new info, I thought it would at least be a nice trip down memory lane :)

It's an old site that has since been taken down, and for some reason archive.org can't properly archive the full site/all its links. But luckily someone created a complete mirror of it! You can find it here: http://catfish.it.cx/trsrockin/trsrockin.com/index.html

AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! ;__; you're too kind... i know i haven't posted too much of my 3d work recently, but trust me, i have a LOT more of those faux-retro aesthetics in store with the game i've been working on... >=) i'm always so so happy to see other people appreciate janky ol' 3d graphics, LMFAO

also!! i've definitely heard of trsrockin eheehee... i was a bit too young to use it when it was in its prime (and also more of a bulbapedia enthusiast), but i've perused some archived pages before! old internet forums & fansites are just the best thing in the world...

ANYWAY: regarding your question! Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm the best person to give advice about this, because I feel like I kind of got my diagnosis by chance... Essentially: I started seeing a new therapist; she suggested I might be on the spectrum, I said, "Yeah maybe IDK"; I got a referral to an evaluator—and then an incredibly expensive diagnosis after a few months of waiting and testing.

My case differs in that I didn't really suspect being on the spectrum myself. Which seems a bit silly, considering I now realize I am... observably autistic. In abundance. But it was genuinely hard to puzzle out, what with all my other problems (particularly, severe misophonia, which can be REALLY hard to differentiate from general sensory sensitivity.) So about specifically seeking out a diagnosis, I unfortunately can't give a good answer. But I'm willing to talk about the rest, on the off-chance it ends up helpful! (Under the cut at least.)

I don't like to be too open about my Issues™ online—but I got a whole lot of them, and they used to be a lot worse than they are now, so I was stuck in that perpetual "adolescent with treatment-resistant depression" purgatory for, like... my entire adolescence! Because no one knew what the hell was wrong with me. I'm barely in adulthood now, but I'm extremely thankful to be broken out of that. Both the 'treatment-resistant depression' diagnoses AND the adolescence. Being told with authority that I, indeed, have an untreated case of mega-autism—and not an irreparably broken brain whose electrical activities zap SSRIs straight out of existence—is definitely relieving. And now I can confidently say shit like 'mega-autism', so like, wins all around.

About getting a diagnosis in general: in my case, I kind of needed one, because it would be not be feasible for me to go to school/work/exist without accommodations of some kind. (The evaluation I had was, in part, just to get a psychological report of any kind, since I desperately needed supporting documentation to request accommodations anywhere.) Otherwise, I'm honestly not sure if I'd bother?

On one hand, an official diagnosis is an incredibly affirming thing to have—especially if you didn't even suspect it before; things start making a lot of sense afterwards, LOL—but on the other hand, it is a tedious and kind of humiliating process. And possibly expensive.

And then, like you mentioned, there's the problem of some doctors being biased or plainly godawful at their job/poorly designed systems ruining everything for everyone. It's probably for incompetency on those ends that a diagnosis managed to elude me for nineteen years straight. (Vividly recalling the time my school had a counselor give me an impromptu autism evaluation, in which she concluded that I "didn't seem to have autism, but would probably get along really well with autistic people." WHATEVER THAT MEANT.) But! It's not impossible to get someone who knows what they're doing! I'd love to say otherwise, but I really did just stumble into a decent doctor... There's a lot of luck involved, and man. I did not get good RNG at first. (← I'M SORRY FOR BEING A GAMER.)

I went into the evaluation doubting I had it, and heavily doubting that I'd be diagnosed, but like... Hold on let me reach across your desk and slide you the answers to the autism test. The trick is to not even try to be normal, I think. Intermittently talk about CRT monitors, and how you like learning ciphers, and Pokemon glitches—or whatever else you're into. But those specifically worked for me! "Don't mask", is what I'm saying. (Really though, I think if you're answering everything to the best of your ability, properly administered tests done by a doctor who doesn't suck should be able to diagnosis you. If they don't, then the problem is something systemic, and far beyond anything I could reasonably give advice about...)

ANYWAY! (x2) I'm honestly not sure if any of this is particularly helpful, but if you decide to pursue it, I wish you luck with getting your diagnosis!! It's definitely a bit of a hellish thing to do—but dammit, if it's worth it to you, then it's definitely worth doing.

YOUR REWARD FOR READING THIS WHOLE POST IS: "Kinesin_walking.gif"

YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH

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sej2020 · 2 years ago

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I Needed Help!

‘He’s dead…. And this is all your fault, we were supposed to be safe’ you sobbed over the body of Cedric Diggory.

‘Y/N, my girl, come on don’t say such things, was it Voldemort’ said Dumbledore earnestly, the Minister listening in.

‘No! This is you, I never wanted to be apart of this and now he’s dead…. This is your fault!’ You cried.

Running from the areana, passing the (now you know); fake Moody some parchment as you passed by.

‘Miss Potter, a room for the summer?’ beamed Tom as you stood in the doorway to the Leaky Couldron.

‘Yes… well I was wondering, how much would it be to buy a room?’ You asked biting your lip.

‘Hmm, I’ll make you a deal, you work for me running this place and I’ll reduce your rent… it’ll be your residence until you graduate Hogwarts…. After that….’ spoke Tom softly watching as his words made your smile brighten your face.

‘Really?’ you breathed.

‘Really, come on’ said Tom snapping his fingers and having all your things float behind you both as you made your way up the stairs.

Leaving you to get settled, Tom went downstairs to organise your dinner and your new employment. Coming back down the stairs a little bit later, you had never felt so elated and care free. Over your dinner Tom have you a list of duties and you were shocked to find you would have the afternoon off everyday and only work a couple of hours in the evening.

And so, you hit the ground running, your first week, getting up early to serve coffee’s, teas and breakfast to guests and customers who stopped in on their way to work. You found the shock of people to be amusing at first, but then the press arrived. Luckily Tom, along with the regular customers dispersed anyone trying to get an interview or a signature. You had never experienced that kind of protection before.

‘Thank you for meeting me Mr Malfoy’ you said one evening, both of you sat a table with tea being served.

You had contacted the man, sending off a letter expressing your need for help. Ever since the Tri Wizard Tournament escapade and the resurrection of the Dark Lord, (who you may or may not have struck up an understanding with), you were determined because of the abuse you suffered at home, you would have Dumbledore removed as your magical guardian.

‘Of course, I have to admit I am intrigued about what it is you wish to speak about… after all you and my son aren’t the closest of friends are you?’ said Lucius raising an elegant eyebrow.

‘No that’s true, but considering the events of last month I think it’ll be worth your time’ you said receiving an earnest nod.

‘Indeed so you mentioned seeking legal advice?’ stared off Lucius sipping his tea.

‘I want advice on how I can get Dumbledore away from being my magical guardian, muggles call it emancipation I’m hoping the magical world have something similar’ you said bluntly.

‘You want to legally become an adult…. We call it manumit, and yes that is something I can help you with’ said Lucius with a cunning smile.

‘Good, where do I start?’ you asked.

‘You are already there with you living independent and having a employment contract, I will speak to my family’s lawyer and his associates, and he will get in contact’ smirked Lucius.

‘Thank you, I know you don’t owe me anything and this is more because of… you know’ you said gratefully.

‘It is…. But there is something very Slytherin about you… it is intriguing’ said Lucius voicing the words the Dark Lord said to you also.

‘Yeah well maybe there was something in the hat wanting to put me in the house of snakes’ you smirked as the man choked on his tea.

‘Y/N?’

‘Uncle Moony’ you beamed finding the man stood awkwardly with a group of people.

Getting to your feet, you embraced the man relishing in the kiss the man pressed to your head when his arms wrapped around you.

‘Good to see you cub’ said Lupin, breaking apart the embrace to cup your face.

‘You too, umm Uncle Moony?’ you queried, pointing with your eyes to the people you didn’t know stood with him.

‘Oh, right, well we are umm’ coughed Lupin uncomfortably glancing between the group, you and Lucius Malfoy.

‘Dumbledore sent you’ you said softly stepping from the man, suddenly on edge.

‘Well yes…’ started Lupin.

‘We are taking you with us, your home is now unprotected because you selfishly decided the protection of your family was not something of importance to you’ said a tall man you didn’t recognise.

‘Kingsley’ warned Lupin.

‘And just who the hell do you think you are lecturing me on those people’ you spat. ‘They are the reason I’m undernourished, why my body is covered in bruises… they are no relatives of mine and I owe them nothing’

‘You Know Who, has returned you’re in danger’ said a women with purple hair.

‘What! Don’t be stupid’ you scoffed.

‘You are coming to headquarters Potter’ said someone from the back, another person you didn’t know.

‘I am not, if you honestly thought I was going to blindly go with a group of people I didn’t know, you are mistaken’ you said looking at Lupin sadly.

You drew your wand quickly just as grown adults pulled out there’s, to your surprise Lucius Malfoy was quickly up on his feet with his own wand. Lupin dove in front of you, shielding your body with his, facing the group he had arrived with drawing his own wand.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ said Tom, furious standing beside Lupin. ‘You have no business drawing wands against a fourteen year old girl, and the Girl Who Lived along with it’

‘Stay out of this Tom’ said Kingsley.

‘No, Miss Potter is under my employ, and therefore under my charge, I suggest you leave before I call on the Ministry’ said Tom firmly motioning over to his wife who stood by the fireplace with a pot of floo powder waiting.

‘Leave Kingsley’ said Lupin.

‘Lupin think about what you’re doing’ warned Kingsley.

‘Leave, and I will be informing the auror department’ said Lucius.

‘Lupin’

‘Go, I’m staying with my cub’ replied Lupin firmly, reaching a hand behind him, squeezing your hand when you slipped your empty hand into his.

The group seemed to come to their senses especially when they found some regulars drawing their wands, pointing them at the group. Finally they left, making you deflate back to your chair, tears now dropping down your cheeks.

'Well Draco was right about one thing, it's never boring around you Miss Potter, I will contact my family's lawyers, I suggest surrounding yourself with people you trust, although it seems like you have a good backing here... Tom, Lupin' said Lucius with a nod, before leaving.

‘Hey’ said Lupin softly, crouching in front of you.

‘Uncle Moony’ you sobbed brokenly.

'What's going on cub?' asked Lupin, smiling at Tom as he left you both to talk.

'I can't do it anymore, I needed help... and I didn't know what else to do' you sobbed

‘And you have it unconditionally, Snuffles was waiting at headquarters for you, if I can borrow Hedwig, I’ll let him know what’s going on’ said Lupin, gripping your hands in your lap.

'Uncle Moony, can you stay with me?' you begged.

'Of course... I'll have to check with Tom because of you know' said Lupin softly, curling hair behind your ear.

'Thank you' you whispered.

'Come here' said Lupin opening his arms, grunting slightly when you practically body slammed into him, hugging him tightly.

#remus x you #remus lupin x reader potter #remus lupin x reader #uncle moony #uncle moony x reader

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azriel-black · 1 month ago

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“Why has it taken you so long to seek medical help?”

Tw: talk of medical issues and talk about suicide below

For most of my life, I’ve been called dramatic and sensitive by my parents and the adults in my life. So when I started feeling pain that I was genuinely unable to ignore. I was immediately shut down and told that it wasn’t actually that bad and that I just wanted attention or that I was being a baby and needed to get over it by my parents. My brother also had physical health issues and they would get him help when he needed it, but when I would ask for help, it would be met with “Well your brother has it worse” or “you don’t need a physical doctor you need another psychiatrist”

When I eventually was at a point of “I cannot mask this pain anymore” or “I cannot function without an aid anymore” it was luckily at a time where I was already getting ready to move out of my abusive childhood home. So I bought myself a walking aid and hid it at someone else’s house until I could bring it to my dorm.

Now when I go home, I have to pretend to be able bodied, and not in pain. It takes all of my energy for days to do this. After I go to my parents house for long periods of time i usually flare up and cannot walk more than a couple feet without failing or feeling so wobbly I need to sit down. I usually end up loaning a shitty hospital standard wheelchair from my schools disability office because I can’t function any other way.

For a while my pain was just a low pain, something I could tune out if I didn’t focus on it too much. Now my pain is a constant in my mind, I don’t remember the last day my pain was below a 4 or 5/10 on the pain scale and most days its up around a 7 or 8/10. A year ago, if you asked me “What’s in pain right now?” My answer would have been “My knees, back, and my wrists (I had really shit crutches then) but it’s not too bad, I could forget about it if I focus on something else” If you asked me right now, I would tell you “my spine feels like it’s throbbing and pulsing in my body, my hips feel like they are too small for the socket and like they’re going to slip out, my knees are throbbing and on fire, my neck and shoulders feel so tight I want to suffocate, my head has been throbbing for three days, and my jaw feels like it’s going to fall off. if I wasn't used to this level of pain daily I would be sobbing" Do you want to know what I’ve done today? I went to three classes, (I got dropped off by a shuttle at each building, and brought back to my dorm) and a 3-hour shift at work where I sat down and rang people up.

I’m only seeking medical attention now because I genuinely don’t know how much longer I could’ve gone without seeing someone and trying to get help. I was extremely depressed (and still am a little) and I was contemplating suicide because I couldn’t afford to get answers. I one day fell too many times to ignore and called my school's health center which is free for students.

before I went to the doctor I see now, I was crying most nights, texting a crisis hotline at least once a week, and I would probably have attempted if I had been alone with the means to. my pain hasn't gotten any better, in fact in some ways, my pain has gotten worse since I've been seeing my doctor. But when I was at this point, I was just so genuinely sick of not knowing what is wrong with me, and not knowing why I am in so much pain daily. I hid all of this from the people who love me, I'm sure they could tell I wasn't doing well but I never really went into depth about just how hopeless and miserable I felt.

The day I went to the health center at my school was my last effort, and if the health center had dismissed me, and not helped me get my insurance in order so that they could help me, I had planned to end my life. If i walked out of that office with nothing but being told "theres nothing we can do" or that "I looked fine" I have a very strong feeling that I would've taken steps to harm myself.

I still don't have answers, but I am in the process of getting them, I have appointments and consults set up, I have a doctor who wants to figure out my case, even though multiple times she's told me that "she has no idea what to do next" she has always figured it out, and given me next steps.

Just having a doctor who I know wants to help me, who wants me to get better, has made it much easier to justify staying alive long enough to get a diagnosis and see what I can do to help myself.

#disabled user #azzyrambles #rant #forearm crutch user #cripplepunk

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thethoughtofanegg · 2 years ago

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I've never felt this helpless before...

I've had my share of helplessness before this, but never this brutal.

It started when he pull hard at our mother's arm, asking to go outside. We don't have anywhere to go that day, so I thought of to let him go with me outside on my motorbike. I don't have any specific that day, so I bring him circling around our neighborhood. I thought after this it will be done, how wrong was I.

He become something akin to an imp, except way bigger and way stronger. I always knew that he's strong, but never have I imagine that he's this strong. I guess he's already a fully grown adult now, I need to stop seeing him as a child. He's pulling and pushing me and our mother especially, because we're the only one who have the capability of bringing him outside our home. Smacking his own head from morning till night, we should've stopped him from doing that. But because he's usually stopped smacking himself if we act like we won't do what he asked, we refrain from stopping it. He's doing this for two whole days, only stopping when he's sleeping which is only for 3 - 4 hours at best. We tried to give him a medication my aunt used in the past and it work for her. But I think it only make it worse. He became more demonlike. My hand sore from him pulling me, my body ache from his punch and kick, my temple hurts when he headbutted my face (It still a little hurt now). The only thing we can do is hold on from his tantrum, and tie his hand so that he can't hurt himself or others around him.

I even have thought that the only way to resolve this is by killing him, and then to kill myself. Of course I will never do that. I won't do anything stupid.

That night I called my father, telling him what had happened. He told me that maybe it's how god tell us to seek for his forgiveness. I know it didn't really help the situation right now, but weirdly it help me knowing that I still have some hope that It will end well in the end.

I thought I could be strong as the older brother that could be depended on to hold my brother down. But it all crumbled when I call my father. It made me realized how helpless I am. And I couldn't hold back my tears during the calls, but I think he didn't notice.

I can't help but think about her in the midst of this. How it would be really nice to be with her. But I know that I can't. I let her know that I wanted to call her.

Thankfully the night my father comeback from work (which is many days after the incident) we search for the medication to calm him down. That night we drove to the hospital and request the medication. We gave him the medication, and thankfully in the next hours he finally have a good rest for about a day.

I feel really sad when I saw his disfigured face in the morning. He really didn't pull back when hitting his own head. We should've brought him to the psychiatric this morning. But all of the doctor is on trip that day, so we cannot go. Luckily there's one tomorrow. So we agreed to let him rest for this whole day.

The next day, we bring him to the psychiatrist, and he gave us the recipe for the medication to use on my brother. We didn't hear much from the psychiatrist, because my brother is rushing us that he wanted to go from this place. Then we go to our grandparents house, and my grandma cries when she sees him. She's really emotional about anything, and I feel her when she cried. We tell her that my brother will be okay, and his face is in the healing process. When we arrived home we see that there's something wrong with my brother, he's always looking up. At first I thought that it was because the medication is still working, and he's just feeling drowsy. But in reality his neck is actually stiff from the medication that we gave him before. It's really sad to see him in this state. His mouth open, and he can only looking up. I was really afraid that I will see him breathe his last breath. Thankfully my father is a doctor, and quickly asked his friend about this. He was told to up the medication dose on the counteragent that was given to us from the psychiatrist before. And slowly the contraction is gone. It's really lucky for us, that we go to the psychiatrist today. If not who knows how long my brother will feel this way.

The next day my father must go outside town to work for the next 5 days again. So I'm the only one who can really hold him back. Thankfully now his face is not as disfigured as before, it still swelling but there's no bruise anymore. Oh and he already ruined our restraining clothes. He still hit his head, but not as often as before. He still asking me to take him somewhere, still demanding but not as demanding as before. He spent his day sleeping or resting these days. Yesterday He can even smile and laugh, I'm so happy for him. I hope he will be better.

That's it for my story for this week. I hope by writing this bottled up feeling for this week, I can finally let myself go from this depressing thought. Thank you to my girlfriend for giving me light to try this whole thing.

#Spotify

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can-youimagine · 2 years ago

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Season of Scandals Part 2 (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary: There are few people you hate more in life than Benedict Bridgerton, unfortunately, it seems as though you’ll have to get used to him

TW: 18+ Smut (minors do not interact) Female reader, period typical misogyny, suggestive, enemies to lovers, swearing, angsty

Word Count: 2124

Part One

Masterlist

Dearest Reader,

It seems as if this author should go to the races. I am thrilled to inform you that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and Ms. (Y/N) (L/N) are engaged to be wed. Rumor has it that they are seeking a special license to marry by the end of the week!

I have said before that the only reasons for such a license are love and scandal. We all know the first is certainly not an explanation for these two. Though I suppose scandal is always an option, I believe it is far more likely that the two are eager to be married. After failed proposals and persuasive mamas, yes, I think it likely that the two are eager to be out of the marriage mart.

~Lady Whistledown

“You’re really getting married?” Anthony asks. “I thought after Ms. Pierceton, you would have sworn the whole idea off.”

Benedict shrugs. “You know as well as I that there are some things more important than a man’s feelings on the matter.”

Anthony’s eyes widen. “No!”

“Pardon?”

“You slept with her!”

Panicking, Benedict urges his brother to keep his voice down, glancing into the hallway to ensure no one heard his outburst. “I did no such thing,” he states before muttering, “It might have been better than this. At least I would’ve gotten my prick wet.”

“Brother, what on earth have you gotten yourself into?”

You stiffen as the modiste tightens your dress. She and your mother talk about the upcoming wedding as if it were the event of the season, as if it were born from love and not from duty. With each lace she pulls, you cannot help but to think of Benedict and the mess he has gotten the two of you into.

As awful as this entire situation is, you imagine it could be worse. At the very least, the man has money. You will certainly live in comfort.

That’s what you tell yourself as your families discuss the wedding. Luckily, it seems as if everyone has an opinion, except for the two of you, who are eager to get this over with as quickly as possible. You glance at him across the room. You suppose, he is quite attractive. There are certainly worse people who you could be forced to wed.

Benedict is able to ignore the pit of dread in his stomach as he watches you with his family. You all get along just fine. That is more important to him than anyone’s honor. As your mothers debate flowers, you sit on the floor, playing marbles with Gregory. He smiles in spite of himself. A small part of his mind drifts to your children, but he refuses to allow himself to dwell on the thought.

He doesn’t have time to.

“The latest Whistledown is here!” Eliose exclaims. Hyacinth rushes to her, eager to get the details from the pamphlet.

His mother’s scoldings of improper behavior are ignored as his sister begins to read. “Dearest Reader, I have new information regarding the situation at Danbury Ball-”

You gasp, looking to Benedict, who jumps into action. “Eloise, now certainly is not the time for a gossip column.”

“It appears that Mr.-oh,” she trails off. “I suppose you are right.”

Hyacinth does not seem to realize the situation as she continues to ask what it said. To her credit, Eloise does try to keep the situation as civil as she can. Unfortunately, Hyacinth’s curiosity is much too strong for her. She snatches the paper out of her sister’s hand, skimming the page before asking, “Why is your name in here, Benedict?”

That gets the attention of the adults in the room. Anthony urges the children out, taking the pamphlet from Hyacinth. He reads it quickly. His grip on the paper so tight that it creases under his touch.

“What does it say?” his mother asks.

“Nothing you want to know,” he mutters, cursing before he throws the paper to the ground.

Benedict takes the pamphlet from the ground, holding it so the two of you can read it.

Dearest Reader,

I have new information regarding the situation at Danbury Ball. It appears that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and Ms. (Y/N) (L/N) were caught in a compromising position in the garden. One person has even said they saw Ms. (L/N)’s corset completely undone as Mr. Bridgerton held her. That would certainly explain the tears in her dress and the flush on her cheeks as she left the ball that evening.

It also explains just why the two felt the need to wed so quickly. Even if it will be a loveless marriage, it will be an honorable one. If the Bridgertons must all be rakes, at least they recognize their honor.

This author is glad to know that even in marriages without love, the couple can still find some solace in the physical aspects of matrimony.

~Lady Whistledown

You feel like you are going to faint. Again. You feel the shame in everyone’s eyes as they stare at the two of you. Your mothers are no doubt wondering where they went wrong in raising you. Your father is embarrassed by the entire situation and hopes that this means he no longer is expected to provide a dowry. Anthony paces the room, trying to figure out a way out of this situation.

Benedict wants to explain the situation, but he knows it’s no use. He could never convince every member of the Ton that nothing uncouth happened. He spares a glance at you. It makes his heart shatter. You look so broken, so ashamed, so humiliated, and it is entirely because of him.

“You are still to wed in three days,” Anthony states. “Until then, the two of you will do your best to remind anyone who asks that Whistledown herself said she only has a rumor.”

Your mother speaks up, “Is it only a rumor?”

“What she implies is not true,” you state.

“But your dress, and-”

“You would sooner believe a gossip column than you would your own daughter!”

“(Y/N),” Benedict whispers, surprising himself. “There is nothing we can do about any of this now. Anthony has thought out a plan, and it should be best if we follow it.”

Looking up at him, you realize that marriage with Benedict will be okay.

You stare at the ring on your finger. It’s beautiful and heavy, and it will certainly take some getting used to, but it is a reminder that you have done all you can to settle any rumors. You know not everyone believes you. In fact, you are certain that no one believes you at all, but now that you are married you do not have to worry about this following you. It will become a small anecdote at a ball. “I heard she was caught in the garden, that’s why they wed so quickly.” Nothing more.

Unfortunately, you are not there yet.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Ms. Cowper,” you greet, giving her a tightlipped smile. “Thank you.”

“I suppose the haste in marriage was due to the rumor. After all, the two of you have waited this long, why get married now?”

“You said it yourself. We’ve spent entirely too long unwed, why wait any longer?”

“And why Mr. Bridgerton? The last time I saw the two of you in the same room, you looked ready to bite his head off.”

“Is there something you would like to say?”

Smirking, she answers, “Not unless you have something to share.”

“Have a good day, Ms. Cowper.”

Benedict downs one last drink before the two of you leave for Aubrey Hall. Colin makes a quip about the carriage shaking, earning him a good smack from Anthony before the two of you are off.

Sitting across from your husband, you turn the ring. “It was a lovely party.”

He nods in agreement. “It is quite a trip to get there, you should rest for a bit.”

“Benedict, I should apologize,” you say, looking at your lap. “I know that we have never been particularly close, but I hope that we will come to be.”

“We will have to, will we not?” He watches as his ring reflects the sunset. “I hope you will make an effort, and I will do the same.”

“You are impossible!”

“Pardon?”

“I have not been the only cruel one.”

He finally looks at you. “Why have you been so cruel? I have only followed your lead.”

“You scared me,” you answer honestly. “You still do.”

His gaze softens. “Why? What have I done?”

“I was scared that I would let myself fall for someone I could never have, and now that I have you, I’m scared that you hate me.”

“My wife,” he takes your hand, “I could never hate you. You are my wife, and even if this isn’t the marriage I intended to have, it is mine, and I will love my wife. I just hope you can make that easy.”

“I’ll try,” you respond.

He smiles as he gestures to the spot next to him. “Would my wife care to join me?”

“She would.” You giggle as you stand. The carriage hits a bump, sending you into his lap.

His smile widens. “On second thought, this will do just fine.”

“Mr. Bridgerton!” you gasp in mock distress. “Why, I would think you are trying to ruin me!”

“That’s because I am.”

He presses quick, frantic kisses wherever he can reach, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, before finally settling on your lips. His lips feel more wonderful than you ever could have imagined. He kisses you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You moan against his lips before you can stop yourself.

You feel his lips curl into a smirk against yours. He pulls away for a moment, causing you to whine.

“I know, my dear, but I have more I have to do if I am truly going to ruin you.” He tugs at your corset. “Turn around for me, dear. I want to be able to look at you, this time.”

You obey. With much more precision than last time, Benedict unties your corset, letting it fall off your chest. He holds you steady as you stand up, allowing the dress to fall off your body completely. He sucks in a breath, reaching up to touch your breast. He watches in awe as your face screws in pleasure. “Those fools,” he mutters, “thinking that I would’ve been able to leave that garden if I had seen you like this.” He shrugs off his shirt. “I never would’ve let you leave.” Sliding a hand down your body, he continues, “And, I certainly wouldn’t have denied seeing you like this.” He runs his fingers between your folds, reveling in the sounds you make.”I would’ve made sure all of England knew that you had granted me this honor.”

His hand slides further back, gently pushing into you in a way you never knew was possible. Your knees grow weak, and your moans louder, as his fingers push further into you. He takes note, pulling you onto the bench beside him. He stands and pushes his trousers off, revealing himself to you. His chest fills with pride as he hears your breath hitch. Tentatively, you reach out to touch him, but he takes your hand instead.

“There will be time for that later.” Pulling your legs to where he once sat before positioning himself over you. With one foot holding himself on the floor and one leg on the bench, he holds himself over you.

“This’ll hurt, just for a moment,” he explains, leaning down to kiss you, “but then you will feel the most remarkable pleasure of your life.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss as he pushes himself into you.

He swallows your gasp. As he moves, you feel overcome with pleasure. He certainly was right. He certainly is. Your pleasure continues to grow until you feel yourself tighten around him. You cry out in pleasure as you pulse around him. His cries combine with your own as you feel him release inside of you, staying in just a moment longer.

As he pulls away, you whine, causing him to laugh. “I promise, my dear, we will be doing that and so much more for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Please.”

He smiles, pulling you up to meet him for a kiss. This one does not have the same promise behind it, though you still feel yourself grow weak just from his lips. You lean against him, trying to catch your breath as he does the same. You are certainly in for a wonderful marriage indeed.

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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femalefern · 2 years ago

Text

After well over a decade on tumblr I guess it was time to make a terf sideblog, lol

I am a lesbian who was involved in the queer/trans community in my city for about a decade and entered into a serious (unfulfilling, primarily but not entirely sexless) long-term relationship with a trans woman (fully and blindly accepting that trans women are women, fully denying my own desires out of a need for love and acceptance). Years later, I am dealing with shame and regret now that I realize how much I let myself get brainwashed and robbed of my own sexuality. The person I dated wasn’t this evil manipulator, no one was forcing me to be there, but I still feel violated, still feel like I was deeply manipulated by a lot of the queer/trans stuff in my 20s that led me into this situation that I thankfully got myself out of. Even before I got out, I was growing skeptical of the cult-like way the queer groups ran my city (a fairly small but very liberal university town). I dared to speak up against a community organizer and was severely cancelled in 2014 before canceling was really a thing. My ex and I were both anti “sex work” and we ended up being harassed in the streets and had our apartment vandalized for helping someone avoid resorting to entering the industry. My relationship thankfully ended with Covid, but not before I had what I can only describe as a mental breakdown complete with my first manic episode that lost me my job, stability, and a lot of friends, and earned me several diagnoses. Luckily with Covid, I got away from any opportunity for in person social events and rediscovered fandom and non-queer lesbians online, which really saved me. Getting into the queer/trans community in my city was a mistake, there’s no other way to put it. As a teenager I didn’t have any great confusion about being a lesbian once I had my big realization, but a severe confusion developed as an adult. It was easy as a kid to figure out and somewhat easy to accept that I only liked women, and came out to various people when I was around 16. And then from like age 18 until Covid, I guess you could say I slowly but surely completely indoctrinated myself, completely and thoroughly went all in, with a lot of help from other people.

This started I guess with the university lesbians around me telling me they’re queer because gender isn’t binary, which in 2010 was a pretty foreign concept to me, and the underlying message was that queerness was the morally and intellectually superior sexuality to lesbianism (so of course I fairly quickly called myself queer too because if not it was clear I was dumb and didn’t Get It.)

Next came my attraction to and dating a (now identifying) trans man, who began testosterone at the end of the relationship and insisted that being attracted to him meant I wasn’t a lesbian at all, but that I had to be bi/pan, which I did accept with some passive agreement.

Finally, there was a trans woman, who knew and validated I was really a lesbian (as long as I returned that validation), and pursued me (somewhat aggressively) in a way no one had before. But I was seeking any sort of validation and acceptance by this point, since I dealt with a lot of rejection and abandonment, both friend and relationship wise in my 20s. Out of so much detachment and confusion and now deep depression, (I think I also considered myself asexual for a time, as well as nonbinary of course), I went with it. It was serious, we planned on having kids together some day, I was miserable by the end. But I was so comfortable in my misery that I wanted it to continue, afraid of change, until my mental breakdown blew everything up and this person had the sense to end it for me, and I am thankful for that.

It didn’t help that of all the lgbt people I know, I barely knew a single lesbian. Ultimately, bi people, gay men, and trans people will always greatly outnumber us. Not to mention I spent a huge amount of time studying this shit in grad school. A wasted education, lol (I am happily self employed now though, so it all works out.)

Today, for the first time in my almost 30 years, I am dating an actual lesbian, and it’s only with that and some distance from my past and all my processing that I can really understand how unhappy my life was and how detached I was from my sexuality.

Despite coming out as a teenager, I find myself resonating more with late bloomer lesbians who only find their happiness after years of denying themselves and focusing on men. I wish I could find people who went through the same experience as me because I am still processing my mistakes years later. I don't want judgement or sympathy but I wish I could talk about this with someone who gets it. Please feel free to reach out if any of these resonated with you.

tl;dr: lesbians DO get coerced into dating trans women, the queer/trans community fucked me up a bit (a lot), but i’m happier now

#radblr #radfem #radical feminism #idk what tags to use because it's not a strictly radfem issue but I feel like I am most likely to find people under those tags #gender critical

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wolfstarlibrarian · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Librarian!

Any modern AUs?

Oh goodness. The Librarian has gotten this ask many, many times and it’s a valid question! However, it is so broad that it’s impossible to make just one list?

All that said, here are a few modern AUs that the Librarian loves but maybe hasn’t listed as often as the ones on their favorites list. Please know that this list is incomplete, so check out the other modern lists below the cut!

Wolfstar Modern AUs: B side

Ever Thus by @wolfstarting “Right, well I’d say it’s about time to put an end to this nonsense, wouldn’t you?” James nodded sagely. “You’ve obviously still got some things to chat through with him, but he will talk to you about it, Remus. He thinks the world of you, you know that. But the important thing is that you do talk because nothing’s going to get sorted if you just sit cry-wanking in your room.” The world is excruciating and enthralling in equal measure. The gang try their hardest to navigate it as real, legitimate adults.

Déjà Vu by @remus-john-lupin Sirius swears he’s seen this guy before, and he’s dying to figure it out.

A Promise by @kattlupin Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are two strangers both seeking solace in solo trips to Paris. Strangers that is, until happenstance sits them together on a plane and their solo trips turn into a romantic adventure together.

Chocolate Cake part of the Just Desserts series by @theprongsletthatlived “Yes, Remus Lupin is gorgeous, smart, funny, and hands down the best lay Sirius has ever had. Sometimes, Sirius just can’t get enough of him—of his plump mouth or the sweetness that seems to radiate out of his pores. He’ll even admit that he does prefer Remus’ company to anyone else’s ninety percent of the time. But—just because your favorite dessert is chocolate cake doesn’t mean you’ll never crave a cookie, right?”

Lost to You Yourself by OfALaurel Sirius Black writes gay porn for a skin mag, and meets Remus Lupin, who does professional readings (audio recordings) of his fictions, and there is flirting, and courting, and love over narratives, cds, and fictionality.

Something Beautiful -orphaned account When Remus Lupin's ex talks him into a drunken tattoo mistake, he goes to his friend and co-worker Lily for help. Luckily her husband's best mate is a tattoo artist who can help with the cover up. Unfortunately for Remus, the tattoo in in a rather compromising area, and he'll have to get over his embarrassment. Luckily for him, Sirius Black is just the man for the job.

There is a Light That Never Goes Out by WolfstarGarden Sirius’ breath puffed a warm tickle around his ear. “You’re gorgeous... I want to take you out, somewhere nice, away from Prongs and Evans. Can I?” Remus opened his mouth, but the yes he had intended instead came out, “Why?”

The Barista, the Burglar, and the Sofa by SeasOfTrees This is the story of twenty-three year old Remus Lupin, an overworked graduate student and underpaid barista, who comes home one day to find an exceptionally attractive man has broken into his flat. Given the neighborhood he lives in, that isn’t a huge surprise. He is surprised, though, when the burglar comes back with a sofa. Alternatively, this is the story of how Sirius Black tries to seduce a man by slowly furnishing his flat.

here's to never growing up by @elixirsoflife A group chat documents the lives of four highly dramatic teenage boys as they navigate their A Levels. Or, like, die trying.

where are we now? by @miraxb

Sirius meets a familiar stranger while visiting Berlin. Everything is different. Everything is the same.

I Am A Mess Around You by @littlemissbennet Modern Setting AU - Remus finds out that a hot, beautiful man just moved into his building. But for some reason, every time they meet a disaster strikes and Remus makes a complete fool of himself. Why can't he act like a sensible person around this handsome young man?

Liebestraum by @quoththethestral

“Do you still have a lot of friends in the area, then?” “None,” Remus answered simply, which felt much easier than explaining at the level of detail that the question actually deserved.

Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot The customer standing in front of him is quite possibly the most beautiful man Remus has ever seen. Like, he looks like a model or something. He has long, black hair, flattened by water, and just the slightest amount of scruff on his face, and… And a baby strapped to his chest. Okay.

Cut Your Bangs part at the Introduction series by @notmycatsname "There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice."

Saving Regulus Black by @toyhto A story in which Remus Lupin meets a dark handsome stranger and they go for a road trip to rescue one little brother who’s probably up to something bad.

We Will Fill the Cracks Together by newskyillusion Remus works in a library and at his parents pub in a small, Welsh town. Sirius Black is doing his PhD on werewolves and comes to a small, Welsh town to do some research.

Find all the previous lists that feature wolfstar in a modern AU below!

The Librarian’s 12 Favorite Fics

Alternate Universe

Accountants + Finance

Athletes

Babysitter Remus

Baking/Bakers

Bartender

Bookshop

Cafes + Artists

Camping + Roadtrips

Coffee Shop

Cooking/Chefs

Dancer

Dating Apps

Hairdressers

High School

Legal/Courtroom fics (Non-magical)

Library

Model

Movie RomComs

Muggle MWPP

Musician/Band

Science Focused Fics

Skateboarding Remus

Social Media

Subway, Underground & Tube

Tattoo Shop

Tech workers/Programmers

Texting Fics 1

Texting Fics 2

Tumblr Mutuals to Lovers

University/College

Video Games

Writers + Authors

Mood/Theme

Fluff 3: Modern AU

Tropes

Famous Sirius or Remus

Neighbors

If you need more just send an ask or check out the Card Catalogue!

#modern #wolfstar #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

Text

-The Arrangement- Chapter 1

Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable add. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter summary: Let’s meet our lovely [Y/N]. Every good story starts somewhere. Buckle up for the next few months babes <3

Chapter 1

“Nope, sorry, I have to get to my other job.” You politely declined getting after-work drinks with your colleagues like usual. It was nice of them to still invite you even though you never said yes.

You excused yourself to the company restroom. Out with the office worker, in with the bartender. You switched shirts, put your hair up in a ponytail, and applied heavier make-up. You'd switch out your skirt when you got to the club. As dumb and gross as it was, you always made more money when you wore your questionably short shorts. Oh well, money is money.

You sent a quick text to your brother to make sure he and your sister got to your aunt's apartment and then headed for the station. Ok. How much money do I need to make tonight? You asked yourself as you opened the banking app. You mentally calculate the amount needed to feed your siblings, pay for the bus, and utilities. Ugh Maybe Park Minho will let me stay for him tonight. He usually wanted to get out of work early to go hang out with his friends. You would be ok this week if you stopped taking the bus and ate more ramen and less real food. You sighed. You were so tired.

You walked through the black glass doors of Club Tokki. There were only a few customers right now and you immediately went to see if anyone had made coffee. Work coffee=free coffee. Luckily for you, Lisa, the woman who worked the day shift almost always needed an extra dose of afternoon caffeine and there was still enough for a cup.

“Hey doll!” Lisa greeted you. “Here, I brought some milk in as well,” she said as she poured the coffee for you.

“You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.” You gratefully took the mug, warming your hands.

“No problem, do you need me to do anything before I leave? I’m going to close out with those two groups first.” She asked as she rinsed off some pint glasses.

You assessed the bar looking to see what you might need over the next few hours. “Yeah, ask the bar-back to get two more bottles of Goose and a bottle of Crown. We usually go through those on Wednesdays. And maybe cut a few limes and lemons. Thanks.” You took the coffee with you to the small office and finished changing clothes. Lisa was a student so she shared your need for thrifty living, coffee, and work. You didn’t have many friends, but you knew you could count on Lisa for caffeine and getting the bar prepped.

You walked back out to the bar, mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead. In a few minutes people like your office coworkers would stream in, treating each other to after work drinks, socializing, and networking. You used to wonder if your circumstances were different if you would be the type of person who went out after work and socialized with their colleagues. You had come to the realization that “no” you wouldn’t. You would probably go home and sleep. Maybe read. You sighed and shimmied behind the bar as Lisa started to count down the drawer. "Alright, I asked the barback for the alcohol and there's 2 cups of lines and lemons."

"Thanks a lot babe. See you tomorrow." you waved at her and started to move stuff around to where you liked it.

"Happy money making." she smiled and headed out.

As predicted about half an hour later, office workers start to show up and the bar is slowly starting to fill up. Club Tokki is known for its laid back vibe so it's mostly beers and "and" drinks. Whisky and coke. Vodka and soda. Occasionally there were some younger girls here that ordered the more complicated drinks. But you got those out as well; this wasn't the first bar you'd ever worked at, just the latest incarnation. And just like that, the night starts to speed up. Minho arrives two hours into your shift for the after-dinner rush.

“Just in time dude,” you greeted him as he walked behind the bar.

“What do you need?” He asked as he clocks in for the night.

“The bar is caught up if you want to go check section one. Shinhye has the rest of the floor.” You instructed him and used this opportunity to catch up on cleaning dishes. You caught one of the guys at the end of the bar staring at you. He was definitely good looking, and stood out with his expensive suit, silver hair, and strong facial features. Whatever. As long as he tips. You were not looking for a boyfriend. Or a hookup. You cringed at the thought of even trying to navigate dating between your work schedule and also living with your Aunt as a grown ass woman. You shook your head like it would get rid of the thought. Satisfied with the current state of the bar you took a minute to drink some water and scan the club. There were worse places you could work for sure.

Minho came back to the bar and asked you to make some shots while he grabs some beers. Grape bombs? Is this 2012? You resisted the urge to gag, having gotten sick on them when you were younger. You placed the drinks on his tray and checked the bartop once again.

Mr. Expensive Suit dimple-face was nursing a Goose and soda. “You doing ok?” you asked him as you made your way down the bar.

“I’m great. Thanks. What’s your name?”

“[Y/N]” you responded and started to move on to your next guest.

“This is the part where you ask my name.” he said arrogantly. Suddenly you did not care for him as much.

“Is it? I’ve never talked to someone in a bar before. I didn't realize there was a script.” you responded sarcastically. You hated it when guys thought they could manipulate you.

“Wow. Ok. Ok. Hard to get. I respect that. I’m Kim Namjoon.”

“Ok Mr. Kim, is there anything else I can get for you right now?” you asked, oh so sweetly.

“No. I’m good for now.” he said, laughing to himself. He shook his head incredulously and sipped his drink.

Well maybe you weren’t going to get tipped after all. Oh well.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur. The vodka special brought in quite a few people and you ended up going through four bottles of Goose. Mr. Kim Dimples remained, nursing only his second drink now and still staring at you even though he was trying hard to not look like he was staring. It was awkward. He was hot but sooo not your type. Which you thought you had made clear.

“Mr. Kim, are you sure you even like Goose and soda?” you teased him as you made another round checking on people.

“You know, I am more of a beer drinker myself, but I can’t pass up a good vodka special.” he leaned to the side, getting out his wallet, and pulled out a business card.

“[Y/N], I’d like for you to take this.” he stuck it between his index and middle finger, holding it out for you to take.

“I am flattered, Mr. Kim, but I’m not interested in anything like that.” you smiled politely.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Believe me, I’m not asking you on a date. You are so not my type,” he said with an air of disgust. As though he was repulsed that you would have even thought he would consider asking you out. “This is a job opportunity. I work for a talent agency of sorts.”

Wow. What a dick. “Oh yeah? What talent do you see?” you gesture to yourself. “I do pour some stiff drinks and can usually tell rude guys to fuck off with a smile on my face.”

To your surprise he just laughed. “You are very funny. And I suppose some people would find you attractive. Just take the card. I think you’re the best candidate I’ve found yet.” he stood up and put on his suit jacket, sitting the business card down on the bartop.

“Rude.” you casually said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it makes no difference to me if you accept or not. Regardless, there it is." He gestured to the card, and sat down way too much money on top of it. "Keep the change." He turned and left.

You didn’t end up closing for Minho; the two of you both stayed since it remained steady through closing time. You were weirded out by the conversation with Mr. Kim, but having worked in a bar for the past 7 years, it wasn't the weirdest thing that had ever happened to you. You threw the business card into your purse and forgot about it for the rest of your shift.

The remainder of the night passed without incident. As much as you disliked it, that weirdo's money helped make sure you could take the bus again the next few days. You stuffed your tips into your purse and walked home. Well. To your aunt's house. It didn't really feel like home. Just a temporary landing spot until you and your siblings could get your own place again.

You entered quietly and washed your hands. You dutifully went through your siblings school bags, making sure their supplies and homework were where they should be. You packaged their lunches as much as you could and started a fresh batch of rice for tomorrow. All mostly in the dark so you didn't wake anyone up. Your brother was sleeping on the couch, which you hated, but he insisted on it. You were sharing the guest bedroom with your sister and your niece.

You grabbed your laptop and curled up in the corner of the kitchen to not bother anybody. I’m a 27 year old loser hiding on the floor of my Aunt’s apartment in the middle of the night. I have to wake up in 5 hours for my other job and instead I’m going to look up a website that some weird ass rude hot guy at a bar gave me. Why is this my life? You thought, and yet you pulled out the business card and entered the link. It took you to a black website with a white box asking for a code. You flipped the card over, and there it was, handwritten. You type it in and wait for the website to load, convinced it’s going to be some weird porn site with fisting or crush videos. You almost cover your eyes but to your pleasant surprise it’s a normal website.

Seeking: a suitable adult woman for long-term companionship. Will be well compensated. Serious inquiries only.

The text continued: If you are on this website, congratulations. You have already presented the basic level qualifications for this position.

Ok. So maybe this was an escort service. Which I mean...if it paid better than both of your jobs and you didn’t have to have sex with people maybe you could. No. No. You talked yourself out of it and scrolled down to read more of the description,

Requirements:

Female between the ages of 20 and 40.

Flexibility in schedule

Desire to travel and attend events

Strong personality and interpersonal skills

Proficiency with Microsoft Excel and Word

Punctuality, attention to detail, and strong organizational skills

Desired but not necessary

Non-smoker/drinks alcohol socially

Like animals

Enjoy listening to music

Compensation:

Position requires relocation to on-site premises and therefore covers room and board.

Monthly stipend (click here for more information pertaining to taxes)

3 meals a day, beverages, and snacks included

Most escort services didn’t require proficiency in Microsoft Word or Excel...you were guessing. Maybe it was a legit job. Like an on-site event planner? You clicked the link contained in compensation and HOLY SHIT THAT WAS A LOT OF MONEY.

You bit your lip and pulled up your resume. It couldn’t hurt to submit it, right? You didn’t have much to update since you had just started your office job 3 months ago. You updated the resume to include that job and listed your address as Club Tokki’s in case this was actually a sex trafficking set up. You thought about it for a another minute and then uploaded the document, took a deep breath, and hit “send.” NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @lidda

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfction #bts yoongi x reader #bts suga x you #bts fics #bts au fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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sk-lumen · 4 years ago

Note

Need serious advice about setting boundaries or communicating when dealing with a person who:

Is a parent

Has unhealthy communication methods -- it takes very little for them to start full-blown screaming, shouting out all your 'negative' things/mistakes/past, can continue to scream-criticise you even after you've gone silent, for WHOLE MINUTES even if you've shut up, will not accept anything that even hints at them making a mistake

You can't trust since childhood coz u made the mistake of confiding in them with a serious issue as a young teen --- mental related --- and they belittled and invalidated you, and since then pretended you never confided in them and have NO IDEA how you've been coping without them or ANYone else for years... Yeah thanks, parent, what u said back then made me think I was the one at fault and so I stopped trusting even friends coz yeah, when ur own parent doesn't give a damn, why would anyone else?

Is a master at silent treatments without explaining what EXACTLY they're punishing you for, then when theyre in the mood, will start talking to you as if they hadn't ignored you for days. Lol I'd rather be water boarded I think. Especially for all the damage this caused when I was a child

Won't openly talk about what they want, yet expects ALL FHE TIME others (in the family) to know what they want, then will complain/scream/angry for AGES about how no one cares, no one gives a damn... And when someone asks them what they want, they either say: nothing, or "you should know! Can't u see?"

Upon asking them to please talk normally, will blow a fuse, and lose it --- happened multiple times today

Literally will use me as a scape goat to unleash their frustrations upon. Even when I leave the room, I can hear them b*tch about how much of a failure I am etc. The trigger being anything that bothers them, from a phone call to something other siblings did, bla bla. I limit my time with them... But it's like, it feels impossible to have them treat me normally, without ridiculing or criticising me. I'm already a very low self esteem person... This doesn't help AT ALL

In short, refuse to tell/ask/discuss important stuff, and getting mad randomly that no one read their mind, bcoz everyone's 'old enough to have enough sense' to know what they 'should' do... Eg will not pikc up the phone when we call them from the store to ask when what the needed isn't available, so what other alternative can we get... And then when we get home, will instead blame us for being fussy and not getting the alternative, completelt skirting around the issue they didn't deign to pick up the phone... I mean, I don't get it. In the past I HAVE in fact asked them to just openly tell me what they want/expect from me to make them happy... Got passive aggressive answers like "don't you know? Are you dumb?" Bla bla

Passive aggressive to the max when they've lost it

Expect me to drop anything I'm doing and immediately cater to them, and expect me to help them in their hobbies (while simultaneously, as I learned many years ago to much heartache, not being interested or even pretending to be interested in my hobbies. The disinterest taught me very quickly how much what I wanted meant, leading to years of self-invalidation. Luckily I've learned it really is them, not me. My hobbies are valid)

Will not talk about why they're feeling angry, what causes it. Instead will blame me, who's like the golden scapegoat in our amazing family, by saying :YOU made me negative. They've said it many times now... It hurts a lot, when I'm also struggling with my own issues which I ofc can't confide in them about :)

Today I manned up -- the outburst of hatred happened again! Over a simple thing. It was NIGHTMARE and made me angry/sad/frustrated/triggered---, and so I told them to stop talking like that... Boy was that the wrong thing to say... I don't think I can accurately tell u what happened afterwards...

Usually children learn communication skills from the parents... I at least learned to recognize the unhealthy ones, and what NOT to communicate like lol. Like, other parent is even worse, believe it or not. But that's another complex situation

I'm not bashing on the parent. Lord knows I even have that much of a right huh? I hate myself eveb more when they invalidate me if I try to show how MUCH THEY HURT me after a 'communication session'. As in, heaven forbid me if I BE SILENT afterwards and DON'T wanna listen to their retardation. Nope. Even then they provoke me, rage at me, you know how sometimes enraged people hiss vitriol thru gritted teeth? Yeah, that's what they did today after I stayed silent and tried to ignore them an hour later after the 'session' when they wabted something. It's like they don't even need me to say a word and will carry on and on for minutes 🤢

I feel alone, helpless and at a loss what to do

I want to move out. Due to severe mental issues I can't even move out rn coz it scares me even more. But this has to stop. Things are only okay if I'm absolutely passive, say yes to whatever they want, kill my wants and needs, and become a perfect robot bred to cater to them (parent)

I hope you can help me out, dear

Hi darling,

It sounds like you’re in a considerably toxic environment. I'm sorry you're going through this. Know that this is not normal, nor is it how a parent/child relationship should be. In case there's any doubt, let me start by saying you deserve to be supported, respected, listened to, to have your needs met. You deserve to live in an environment that offers you all of these things.

With that being said, from the many scenarios you’ve mentioned you’ve already tried reasoning and setting boundaries, to no avail. There is only so much you can do on your own, if the other person in the equation is not meeting halfway or at all. After all, a healthy conversation involves two people, not just one.

Here's my advice, in this order:

Calmly and maturely asking the respective parent to have a serious discussion with you and to listen to what you have to say. Share how their actions and behaviour is making you feel, let them know you care, and make sure to mention several solutions for the issue as well. If this doesn’t work…

Bring up the subject of needing help from outside, such as the assistance of a specialist/therapist. Family counselling can shed a lot of light on toxic behaviours that are ingrained from childhood (both in their case and yours), on fears your parent may have, stress from their work, whatever is causing their outbursts and anger - because there is always a reason. Behind anger is sadness, and behind sadness is some need not being met, or an underlying fear, trauma, etc. This is not a justification for their behaviour, they are responsible for it; this is simply the fact of how energy dynamics work. People bottle up their frustrations, fears, etc, and let them out on those closest to them, to whom they feel superior. It’s not fair, and it’s not healthy, but it is frequently how this pattern works. If this solution doesn’t work either…

Then unfortunately, all you can do is focus on yourself. If they refuse to meet you anywhere along the road, you have to pack up your things and go your own way. Literally or metaphorically. They may be your parent and you may love them even in spite of their behaviour, but you cannot hold yourself responsible for anything they say or do; that is on them. In those cases, you have to prioritize your own mental health and wellbeing, and focus on moving out. If your (home) environment is toxic, you have to focus on first changing it. That’s vital. Only afterwards can you start healing, refinding yourself, reclaiming your self-esteem and confidence, your sense of worth. As long as you stay stuck in a toxic environment, you cannot really heal; if there is abuse of any kind (physical, mental, emotional), the causes are still there, leading to re-traumatizing.

If for whatever reason moving out is not (yet) an option, I would emphasize seeking some sort of counselling for yourself, if nothing else. You need an anchor, some sort of support that will help you along your path until you do get out.

Now, I don’t know how old you are. I am going to assume you are over 18 and of age, so only mind my advice if that is the case. (As disclaimer, I don't provide advice to minors as it's not the scope of my blog nor am I specialized/focused on that area.)

I understand moving out seems scary because it is unknown, but with that line of thought you may wait another 10 years in the same situation. Wouldn’t you wake up 10 years later already having done the hard work on moving out, finding your independence, claiming your sense of individuality and moving on from this sort of environment, this phase in your life?

Sooner is better than later, but do so with mindfulness and care over your mental health, of course. I know it’s scary. But being an adult requires some difficult decisions at times, and setting boundaries begins with choosing your wellbeing and doing what needs to be done, even if it is something uncomfortable short-term, but highly rewarding and beneficial long-term.

Hope this helps... and wishing you much luck, clarity, gentle guidance and comfort.✨

PS: Lately I've been receiving longer and longer letters in my inbox. As solution, I was thinking of having longer asks/letters redirected to my blog where there isn't any length limit, and readers can more comfortably browse both my tumblr and blog - and those requesting advice can share and receive a more in-depth response.

-Lumen

#mental health #toxic relationship #toxic environment #boundaries #parenthood #ask #tw? not sure what to tag just in case #tw: swearing #tw: mental health #tw: anxiety

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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 4 years ago

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As Far As Friends Go

Summary: Emily Rooney has always wanted more than what her family wanted for her; to get married to a nice, wealthy young man and have lots of well-raised Catholic babies. So when her fiancee enlists with the marines she decides this is her chance to have an adventure before she has to get married. She finds herself outfitted with the 506th working alongside a flippant intelligence officer.

Chapter 2 (Chapter 1; Chapter 3; Chapter 4)

Nixon - September 1943 “Captain Nixon, sir?” “Hm? What?” Lewis Nixon barked. He turned to face the intelligence staff private who stood in the doorway. “Sir, I have the newest support staff member with me.”  “Who?” Nixon asked.

“Ms. Rooney, she’s being added to our staff. I gave you a memo before we boarded the train to New-.”

 “Right, right,” Nixon waved his hand, ushering the private into the large room that would serve as 2nd battalion’s intelligence HQ while they were in Aldbourne. “What did you say her name was again?”  

“Emily, Emily Rooney,” the young woman stepped out from behind the private. Nixon took in the neatly dressed young woman. Her dark red-brown hair was neatly curled and pinned back. Her full lips were painted a pleasing shade of red and, Nixon noted appreciatively, her stockings looked like real silk under the Army-issued skirt. “Ever been a secretary before?” Emily swallowed, “Well sir, I’m not a secretary, so no.”

  Nixon raised an eyebrow, “is that not what you’re here to do?”  

“No, sir,” Emily’s voice was stronger now. “I was working with the cartographers before,” she hesitated at his expressionless face, “with the O.S.S. but I told them I’d take any international assignment they have, as soon as they have it. So, here I am!” she enthused then quickly folded her hands demurely in front of her. “Did you come over on the, the uh..? “Samaria, yes sir.”

 “Uh okay, well I’m guessing you know where you’re supposed to sleep and all that?” Nixon glanced at the private still standing by.  “Yes sir.” “Okay, well I’ll let you know when I need you I guess, and when we get working on things.” “I’m supposed to start with coding and morse code instruction, sir. Or at least that’s what I was told.” “Okay, great well- I guess you can get started with the radiomen as soon as they’re done with maneuvers.” Nixon turned away, signaling the end of the conversation. “Great, thank you, sir.” Nixon waited for the sound of footsteps before looking briefly over his shoulder to watch Ms. Rooney exit with the private behind her. Nixon’s brow furrowed in thought. He opened his leather valise and dug around through various papers. Not finding what he wanted, he shuffled through the loosely strewn papers across his desk. Around him typewriters still sat in their cases, reports sat in neat but forgotten stacks, abandoned by the soldiers who were called away before they properly settled in. The Army standard organization was there, but so was the unfamiliarity of a new workspace. “Davis!” Nixon called over his shoulder. After a moment the private who had introduced Emily came in. “Sir?” he asked. “I can’t find that memo you gave me. Do we have a dossier on this Ms. Rooney or something I can look at to get a better idea of who she is?” “Yes sir,” Private Davis said, “one moment.” Davis went to a pile of stacked brown file pockets sitting on the corner of Nixon's desk. A few seconds later he pulled a neatly paper-clipped folder from one of the file pockets and handed it to Nixon. On the top page, to the left of a small black and white photo read Miss Rooney, Emily R. “Thank you,” Nixon said, his eyes transfixed on her profile. The private nodded and exited the door. Nixon sank into his desk chair as he scanned the report in his hands. 5’, 5”, Brown Hair, Blue Eyes. Fort Wayne, IN. Unmarried, no children. Previously positioned with the O.S.S, cartographers. Languages: none. Special skills: morse code, code-breaking. Education: St. Mary’s College. Previous profession: typist. Nixon scanned the report with a guileless curiosity. Interesting, he thought. What was special about this young lady? How did she find herself working first a coveted intelligence post and what possessed her to seek out a job that got her outfitted with army battalion intelligence? Nixon passed the morning getting situated. He went back and forth between meetings with other intelligence staff, Lieutenant Strayer, and Major Horton. Nixon couldn’t help but wonder what Easy Company was up to. As much as he didn’t miss being at Sobel’s mercy, he did miss being among the men. Did he miss the physical training and the maneuvers? Not a bit. But a piece of him missed feeling in the thick of things. He was so removed as an intelligence officer. He was stuck between two worlds, and he wanted to be part of both of them. Nixon wanted to be the first to know but he also wanted to be among the men he trained with. Although he served the entire 2nd battalion, he would always consider himself a part of Easy Company. Luckily, he had Dick Winters. Winters served as his bridge between the regiment and the company. Winters had also become a dear friend and confidant during their time at Toccoa. So naturally, Nixon had to fill him in on the newest member of their battalion’s staff. “So how does she seem? Fit for the job?” Winter’s asked sliding his tray in front of the mess attendant. “I guess so,” Nixon said, following behind him, “whatever that is.” “I thought you were an intelligence officer,” Winter’s shot Nixon a skeptical little smile, “aren’t you supposed to know?”  “I know,” Nixon said brashly, “I just don't know what I’m supposed to do with her.” He emphasized that last word as if Emily were a random child he was handed and told to take care of. “I’m sure you’ll get a better idea as we continue training,” Winter’s reassured him. “I guess so. Apparently, she’s supposed to teach morse code, so at least she’ll be occupied with that for a while.” Winter’s chuckled, “she’s an adult woman, Lew, and you’re not her babysitter.” “Barely,” Nixon scoffed, “she’s twenty-two.” “We’ve got a lot of men here that are younger than that.” “Sure, even so.” Nixon and Winters sat down at a long mess table. Winters pushed the food around on his tray as Nixon continued to process what it would mean to manage and work alongside a female. “I guess we’ll see,” he said resignedly.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x oc #george luz #george luz x oc #harry welsh #harry welsh x oc #as far as friends go #original character

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

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Galaxy Princess - 1/3

Characters → Y/N & Peter Quill, Mentions of other Marvel characters.

Summary → After the birth of superheroes, several alien attacks and the blip, you were pretty much ready for anything. That was until you met Peter Quill. He burst into your life at lightning speed and nothing could have prepared you for the way he turned your world upside down.

Word Count → 3k

Warnings → Swearing, later warnings; 18+ Smut, Fluff.

Series Taglist → OPEN - send an ask.

Beta → @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → Should have posted this at half 7 but everything seemed to go wrong BUT it’s here now... This is for @crushedbyhyperbole - I am so sorry that this is months late to your challenge! [Prompt: To the moon and back - in Part 3]. And I actually have a schedule for the release for this 3-parter… This is GOTG Vol1&2 Peter Quill set in a post-Endgame world.

Return to: Series List // Marvel List

That Friday feeling was in the spring of Y/N’s step, and how she threw off her stuffy office clothes and traded them for baggy top and sweatpants. It was in the way she put on her favourite playlist, shimmied a pizza in the oven and how she shut the fridge with a pop of her hip. She twirled around the kitchen in between sips of beer, lifting her spirits higher and higher.

At the sound of the oven alarm beeping, she plated up the pizza, walked through her apartment, and flopped a blanket over her shoulder in preparation for her Friday night tradition. It had been a hard week at work, and she couldn’t wait to unwind in one of her favourite spots.

She climbed out of the lounge window onto the fire escape, ascending the steps carefully as to not drop her pizza and beer.

“Careful out there, Y/N,” Stan, her neighbour, said.

She paused at the window ledge and grinned back at the elderly gentleman sitting in his armchair. He looked over the top of his glasses with a fond smile.

“I’m always careful Stan,” She winked and carried on with her climb.

On the rooftop, overlooking the countryside in the distance, Y/N could relax and get away from work. She’d been a temporary administrator at a financial company for six months, but she didn’t seem to fit in with any of her colleagues. She soon discovered that she was often talked about because she was different. ‘Different’ meant Y/N didn't join them for the weekly drinks at the local bar or partake in office gossip. None of it was her thing and, to them, that made her ‘weird.’

On many occasions, Y/N had overheard them guessing about her private life and it took its toll after hearing the same repetitive comments; she never talks about her family. Or friends for that matter. She needs to get laid. She's a bit of a freak. Too wrapped up in all that alien abduction and sci-fi nonsense.

And that’s how being on the rooftop, with pizza and a couple of beers, became a weekly tradition and a place of solitude. Unwinding with music and the starry sky above, Y/N could pretend the world below didn’t exist.

The mellow music drowned out the noise from the street below as she stretched out on the sun lounger. A contented sigh left her mouth as the blanket enveloped her in comfort and the warmth seeped into her bones.

The sun setting over the woodland in the distance was the perfect backdrop for her to relax as she munched on the pizza. Y/N adored the way the peach glow filled the skyline and silhouetted the trees against the horizon.

The greasy delight helped to soothe her but couldn’t quiet all the gossip she’d heard about herself that week. Especially the remarks about her sex life. They had no idea if there was any truth to their assumptions, but no amount of beer or delicious food could drown the thought completely.

Over the last couple of years, Y/N had pretended that she was happy. That she was content with being on her own but deep down she had given up. Her inability to navigate the dating scene successfully was not something she was proud of but then again, she’d had too many awful and lame experiences to count.

She was a moon without an orbit, drifting in an endlessly dark sky. It was as if everyone else had been given access to this world of love and relationships and she was left alone. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt wanted or needed and it tugged at her chest.

Her wall of denial had crumbled, and the hot tears slid down her cheeks. She’d been lonely, had been for a while, but when other people noticed, it stung more than she liked.

The bright sky faded to navy, the stars flickering on in anticipation of lighting the night sky. Y/N longed for whatever was beyond the Earth’s atmosphere, up where those stars sparkled even brighter.

Y/N had always dreamed of being somewhere else. She felt as if she didn’t belong here that she was destined for more than a mundane office job and daydreaming of the world beyond the solar system. One day, somehow, she knew she’d fly away from this place and find somewhere that she belonged.

A bright flash streaked across the sky, a shooting star. Y/N grinned, shuffling to the edge of her seat, ready to make her wish. Until she realised the light was getting bigger. Her eyes widened as she watched the flaming ball crash into the woodland in the distance.

Y/N scrambled to her feet; the blanket was forgotten until she fell to the ground. Knees scraping against the concrete. The tangled fabric was pushed away, and she gingerly rolled up her sweatpants; luckily, it was only a scrape, nothing to worry about.

She jumped up, grabbed her phone, and rushed down the fire escape. Once inside, she slid on her fluffy socks along the hardwood floor then hopped around to put her sneakers on while trying to grab her backpack. Luckily, she made it out without an accident.

Minutes later she was navigating the roads to the woodlands, her body hummed with adrenaline and her mind raced with wonder; what was it? A meteor? A spaceship? Aliens? Oh shit. What if it weren’t friendly? What if the Avengers showed up? She wasn’t sure she cared as she swerved the car off the road and into the empty parking lot, kicking up gravel and dust. This was an opportunity she wouldn’t let pass her by.

Y/N eagerly dived out of the car, made sure her sneakers were laced and her phone was in her pocket and jogged up the main path to the woodland. Before long, her clammy skin began sticking to her cardigan. She pulled it off and wrapped it around her waist. Her eagerness to get to the crash site and all the possibilities of what it could be, she hadn’t realised how far off the beaten path she was.

The moon was her only source of light, but the towering trees made it seem as if it were playing hide and seek on the ground. She put on her phone’s flashlight, her heart racing as she stumbled along the less maintained route.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as the flashlight remained trained on the ground. Nerves bubbled in her stomach and her legs began to shake as she neared the potential landing site.

A faint orange glow flickered against the tree trunks, the air thick and sticky with fumes. Y/N picked up her pace, approaching the smoke that billowed from the wreckage and the flames licking at the grass. Light and ash that spit out from the chewed-up metal.

She raised her arm, shielding her eyes from the bright glare so she could access the wreckage. It wasn’t any kind of spaceship she’d seen before. It didn’t look like the ones from the attack on New York or reported after The Blip. It was small, could fit one adult at most.

A groan rang out nearby and she whipped around to see a man, a human man, fall to the floor a few meters away. In a flash, she landed on her knees, pain shooting through the already damaged skin, and rolled the person over, pulling at the red leather jacket.

Y/N placed her cheek near their face and relaxed when she felt their light breath caressing her skin. Her fear subsided, and she was finally able to look at the man, her heart fluttered at his rugged look; the stubble scattered across his jawline, a gash across his cheek and his fluffy dirty blond hair.

The crackle of the flames and the metal whining behind caught her attention again. She hauled him away from the ship, afraid they were in danger of being burnt. After a few tugs, she fell backwards onto her bottom. Another groan came from the man below her and she hoped she hadn’t hurt him. She looked down at the handsome spaceman, his head rising from her lap with a deep frown and eyes scrunching with confusion.

“Hi,” Y/N spoke softly, hoping not to alarm him.

He shuffled slightly, trying to turn and brace his hand on the ground but gripped her thigh. She watched the realisation dawn on his face, he looked up at her and back down between her legs, a huge grin across his face, “Well this isn’t a first.”

Y/N shoved him backwards and scrambled away.

He planted his arms to avoid face planting the ground and turned to the wreckage. “What the hell- Oh man, look at this,” He jumped to his feet and began inspecting and discarding chunks of metal and wires. “No, no, no!”

Y/N was frozen to the spot, her thoughts blank as she watched the man dash around the wreckage, throwing items over his shoulder in obvious frustration.

After a moment, she stood up and raised her arms in defence. “Maybe you should sit down, you did just crash landed.”

“I need to get back to my ship.”

He may have looked human, but if he had a spaceship, he clearly wasn’t. Oh shit, I’m talking to an alien.

“I can help,” she stuttered before clearing her throat, willing herself to not sound so defenceless or unsure. “But please don’t hurt me,” She pleaded.

He stopped mid-throw, the mangled metal hovering over his shoulder, and twisted on the balls of his feet to look at her. His piercing blue eyes alert, an exaggerated gape in his mouth before he spoke, “I’m not going to hurt you, you turd blossom.”

Y/N blinked at his insult, uncertain how to process being called a turd blossom. He walked towards her and she stepped backwards as he grew closer until her back was against a tree. He rested his arm above her head, leaning against the trunk, a cheeky grin forming on his face.

“So, I’m a little stuck and need a little help with contacting my ship.”

Y/N shoved him away, “Your smoldering isn’t going to work on me.”

“Smoldering?! I was not smoldering.” He stuttered and held up a mangled item that looked like a walkie talkie. “Do you have anything that can help fix this or a way I can contact my ship so I can get off this crappy planet?”

Y/N paced back and forth, she wasn’t sure what to say or do, her mouth opened and closed. Of course, she had a radio back at her apartment, but she wasn't going to let a stranger into her home. Y/N knew it was crazy, but she had to help him. She spun around and pointed at him, he looked from side to side as if looking for someone else.

“Yes, you! I will take you somewhere that has a radio. But no funny business.”

He crossed his heart, dramatically and she rolled her eyes. “Follow me.” She spun on her heels, “Are you coming or - what’s your name?”

He jogged up to Y/N’s side and matched her speed, “Starlord.”

She paused, mid-step, chuckling, “Is that your name?”

“Yes! I’m a famous outlaw.” His brows furrowed and his jaw set.

“A famous outlaw that calls people turd blossoms,” she chuckled, “what are you wanted for, crappy insults?”

He scoffed and from the corner of her eye she noticed him smirk though he sounded offended, “a whole list of things that if you knew about, you’d be shocked.”

“Got it, you're a real bad guy, Starlord.”

This time he really was offended, “do you have a better name?”

She snickered and couldn’t help herself, “Galaxy Princess.”

He laughed loudly up at the sky, “I like you Galaxy Princess,” he admitted.

She dropped her head to watch her feet and tried to stifle the happy grin that wanted to break out on her face.

One short car journey filled with awkward silence later, they were in Y/N’s apartment, and inside the box room. A desk and computer on one side, the opposite wall filled with pictures, newspaper clippings and maps of Earth and the solar system. Embarrassment tingled on Y/N’s cheeks as she began to clear the mess of takeout containers and used coffee cups that were on her desk.

The radio unit was pulled forward and she passed the mouthpiece to him. Noting how dazed he was by all the assorted items in the room, picking them up and inspecting them as he’d never seen a tablet or Bluetooth speaker before. Then she remembered, alien. His technology was far more advanced.

“Here, if your spaceship is in our atmosphere it should pick up this signal.” Y/N flicked at the switches and turned the dials; white noise unleashed into the room until it went almost silent apart from a faint buzz.

Starlord stared at the equipment and muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe that I actually wish Rocket was here.”

Y/N ignored the comment, he hadn’t wanted her to hear what he’d said, “Do you know what frequency your ship uses or anything that would help connect to the comms unit?”

“Of course, I know what frequency my ship uses.” He stepped around her and started to fiddle with the dials, white noise filling the room once more. He winked and gave her a lopsided grin, like the one earlier when his face was in her lap. “It’s my ship. I know the frequency. Yep.”

To save Starlord the embarrassment of having no clue, Y/N turned her focus to the broken device he had brought with him. Metal scratched, wires exposed and broken. With enough technical knowledge, she realised it was more of a transmitter than a radio.

“I think I might be able to fix this, but I don’t have anything that resembles these parts.” Y/N didn’t realise he was right behind her and bumped into him with a surprised yelp.

“Woah there!” He steadied her with his hands on her arms, “Didn’t mean to make you jump,” he said as she turned to face him. She felt the blush spread over her cheeks and he smiled, “Unless you did that on purpose. Considering you like my smoldering,” he winked.

“I didn’t say I liked your smoldering, I said it wouldn’t work on me.”

Y/N hoped that he didn’t have superpowers otherwise he’d hear the pounding of her heart but what unnerved her more than his proximity, was that she couldn’t work out if she was scared or captivated. It was definitely the latter. His thumbs rubbed softly and sparked a shiver. Her thoughts caught back up to her and she led them into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit off the shelf.

“So how did you end up in an escape pod?” She asked, moving into the lounge.

“Ha. I don’t think you’ve got time for the long story,” he said as she perched on the couch. “So, I’ll give you the short version.” He joined her and reclined back into the cushions.

“I’m happy with either,” Y/N offered, turning to face him, with an acute awareness of her knee brushing against his thigh. “May I?”

Starlord glanced down, noticing their closeness and her fiddling with the box. His chest inflated, proud and a smug smile; he was eager to let her tend to his wounds and talk of his heroism and escape from evil.

He cleared his throat before sinking further into the couch, “I’m more than willing to oblige a beautiful woman with my stories, sweetheart.”

Y/N snorted and began to clean the gash on his cheek while he explained how his crew’s mission hadn’t gone to plan. It was supposed to be simple; get on the spaceship and pick up the wanted person then to collect the bounty. Y/N watched him tell the story in between winces of the antiseptic wipe; the way his eyes lit up as he retold the plan and mentioned his companions; Rocket and Groot.

She wanted to know more but she was distracted by his animated expressions. Gosh, he’s handsome, Y/N blushed at her thoughts, “will you stop moving. I can’t fix this if you don’t hold still.”

Y/N was grateful for him not seeing the embarrassment and refrained from moving erratically so she could apply the butterfly stitches. He continued with how he hadn’t expected the spaceship to have a bunch of Kree and Sakaarans on board. She bounced in her seat, the excitement taking over at the mention of the alien races.

Starlord chuckled at her enthusiasm, “I’ll tell you more about them bastards later. The escape pod was my only option, but it malfunctioned after it took several hits from the attack shuttles.”

Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, in fear and amazement that he’d managed to land it somewhat safely and without extensive injury. She felt shy under Starlord’s scrutiny and the way he was likely to judge the brightness in her eyes, the intrigue she had for life beyond earth.

“Now I’m stranded on Earth and have no way of communicating with my crew back on the Milano.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Luckily I had a beautiful woman come to my rescue.”

Y/N pretended not to hear those words as the weight of the night’s events hit her suddenly and she tried to stifle the yawn, “Sorry, can we have a look at this in the morning?”

“Sure.” His bright smile dropped a fraction, he recovered it but not in time for her to miss.

Spare bedding was placed on the sofa and Y/N directed him around the apartment, “The shower is just down the hall. If you can’t sleep, here’s the tv remote and help yourself to food.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Starlord.”

“It’s Peter.” His cheeky smile had faded to something softer.

“Y/N. Goodnight Peter.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He laid down and continued to wave until she shut the bedroom door.

Y/N was too tired to process that she was leaving a stranger on his own, in her home. There was an odd comfort from his determination to get back to his ship and crew; the place he belonged.

To Be Continued...

Everything Taglist: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7

Marvel Taglist: @natasha-danvers / @musesforart

Series Taglist: @justagirlinafandomworld

#Peter Quill x Reader #Peter Quill #Starlord x Reader #Starlord #Peter Quill Fic #Starlord Fic #Guardians of the Galaxy #Guardians of the Galaxy Fic #GOTG #gotg fic

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years ago

Text

Just Like a Woman - Part 2

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronebitesrogertaylor, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: The next installment! Hope you guys enjoy some more pining, we love to see it

Warning(s): None :)

Part 1

Part 2 here we go!!!

“Mark, I am so sorry!” you gasped. “I - I had no idea!”

“You had no idea that it’s our anniversary?” he snapped. “Does it really mean that little to you?”

“You know you mean the world to me,” you returned. “I’m so sorry, I just got so caught up at work and I really had the worst day imaginable, so -”

“You forgot our anniversary and our dinner plans and you expect me to feel sorry that you had a bad day at work?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. It just slipped my mind, love, really. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t bother,” he replied, getting to his feet.

He flung the flowers onto the floor before aggressively snatching up the plates and walking them into the kitchen. He dumped the ruined food into the garbage bin, and slammed the plates into the sink. You winced at the sound of the crash.

“Mark, don’t be like this,” you pleaded, stripping off your coat and leaving your briefcase by the door to follow him into the kitchen.

“How d’you expect me to react, then?” he shouted, switching the faucet on. “Like everything’s fine? Because I know it isn’t, Y/N! I give and give and give in this relationship, and you’ve not once shown me that you care!”

“I care, it’s just that I’m busy with work and-”

“You don’t think I’ve got a busy job?!” he cried squeezing the life out of the bottle of dish soap to lather into the sponge in his hand. “Christ, I’m saving lives, Y/N! I also work long hours, and yet, I made time for dinner tonight! Because we discussed this last week!”

“I forgot!” you returned. “I don’t have any excuses, okay? I just forgot! It was shitty and I’m really sorry! Now, will you please stop cleaning?!”

He paused. With a sigh he turned the water off and looked at you.

“I’ve already ruined the evening,” you said. “You shouldn’t have to clean up.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I should be going home.”

He stormed past you. You reached out and took his arm, stopping him in his tracks and making him look at you.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded. “I really am sorry. There’s still some wine left. Why don’t we just split the bottle and get cozy on the couch, yeah?”

He sighed. “I’m really no longer in the mood to see you, Y/N. I’ll call you later, okay?”

With that, he shrugged out of your grasp, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door, closing it with a harsh snap. You heaved a sigh as well. Then you got to work on the dishes. Luckily, Mark had already cleaned up what he had used to cook, so you were able to quickly wash the rest and put it all on a drying rack.

As you labored in the sudsy water, your mind once again went to Roger. The thought of seeing him on Wednesday both delighted and terrified you. Especially after your conversation with Dominique. If Roger still cared for you, why hadn’t he reached out? You were usually single. This relationship with Mark was the longest you’d had since Roger. Once again, you decided she must be wrong.

When the dishes were done, it was about a quarter past midnight. You went to get ready for bed. You had another meeting in the morning with a new client, and you would probably be hearing from Mark as well. Perhaps because you’d been drinking, you were able to fall asleep with little trouble.

Roger, on the other hand, had no such luck. He sat on his back patio, smoking a cigarette, and wide awake. The air was cold and dry, but he hardly felt it. His eyes were fixed on the puffs of smoke emerging from his mouth and disappearing into the air. He could only think of one thing. You.

He had hoped that he would never see you again. The breakup was painful enough, and he had always felt foolish for how he handled it. Now you were forced into his life through another painful event. He was embarrassed that you would see all the drama between himself and Dominique.

Just as he thought of her, she appeared behind him. Though they no longer shared a room, she was still living at the house.

“Rog,” she said. “What are you still doing up?”

He turned to face her. She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around her and shivered as she waited for his reply.

“Go inside, Dom, it’s cold,” he said.

“All the more reason to wonder what you’re doing out here,” she said.

“Just thinking,” he replied, taking another drag and inhaling it deeply.

“About Y/N?” she asked.

He exhaled. Smoke once again rolled from his mouth into the air.

“I know, it’s a small world,” she continued. “But if you really don’t want her to represent you, you can find another lawyer.”

“That’s not what I was thinking,” he said simply.

He heard her huff. “Rog, just come inside.”

“I’m in the middle of a cigarette,” he protested.

“Rog -”

“What happened to us, Dominique?” he questioned suddenly. “All my life, I’ve wanted what I never had - a stable home. I wanted to meet a nice girl, marry her, have some kids, and be the best bloody rock drummer in the world. Didn’t I do that?”

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug.

“So why isn’t it working out?” he wondered.

“Because you married the wrong girl,” she said levelly.

He sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing in return.

“I’m going in,” Dominique said. “Freeze your balls off out here for all I care.”

He faced the yard again. The door creaked open and he heard her step inside.

“That’s not true, you know,” he called to her. “I married a great woman.”

Dominique’s lower lip trembled, and not from shivering. She closed her eyes and let a tear fall down her cheek.

“That doesn’t make me the right woman,” she returned. “And if you want my opinion she’s come back into your life for a reason.”

She gave him no time to answer before closing the door swiftly behind her.

The next morning, you arrived at work a little late. You went right over to your assistant, Jane.

“Jane, were there any calls for me?” you asked, picking up some papers and flipping through them.

“No,” she answered. “Were you expecting one?”

You frowned. You thought for sure Mark would have called the office first thing.

“No,” you lied. “Just wondering.”

“Well, your new client, Mr. Broome, is waiting for you in your office,” she told you.

“Oh, has he been waiting long?” you wondered.

“No, just a few minutes,” she assured you.

“Alright, I’m heading in,” you said. “If Mark calls, have him hold for me, okay?”

“Will do.”

You walked past her station and into your office. There sat a tall, handsome man, but with a scowl on his face that made him much less attractive than he was.

“Mr. Broome,” you greeted.

He rose from his seat. “Miss Y/L/N, I’m so glad you’re here. This is the most dreadful business.”

You shook his hand. “How can I help you?”

“I’m seeking an annulment of my marriage,” he told you.

You set your briefcase down by your desk and hung your coat up on the rack.

“On what grounds?” you asked.

“Her breasts are fake,” he said. “I didn’t know until after we were married.”

You blinked. The cases you got continued to get stranger and stranger.

“Um, well, I’m not sure I understand how that qualifies for an annulment,” you said.

“We didn’t - um - have relations until after we were married,” he explained further. “I was under the impression that everything about her was real. I feel I entered into this marriage without full knowledge. I was deceived!”

“So, you feel she presented herself to be something that she isn’t?” you asked, to clarify.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Okay, we might have a case here, but we’re on pretty flimsy ground,” you said. “Was there anything else in the marriage you felt was presented as false besides her breasts?”

This meeting went on for about half an hour. You got all the information you could from Mr. Broome, but since his wife had apparently no other supposed indiscretions, and he had never asked if her breasts were real, you felt it was a pretty weak case.

Afterwards, you checked with Jane again.

“Any calls?” you asked.

“Mark hasn’t called,” she said. “But Roger Taylor did.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What did he want?”

“He said it was just to confirm the meeting tomorrow, but I think it was something else,” she said. “He seemed agitated.”

“Hm,” you said, though your mind was awhirl with questions. “Well, if he calls back, put him through.”

“Hey, Y/N,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on the question,” you replied.

Her cheeks went pink with a deep blush. “Um...what was it like, being with Roger?”

“You mean in bed?”

She nodded, looking at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Oh, it was so...so…” you began dreamily. Then you frowned. “Private.”

She huffed. “Well, there’s no need to be snappish.”

The day wore on. Still, there was no word from your boyfriend and you were beginning to worry. Was he really that angry at you? The only way to move forward was to talk things through. Or, was his abrupt departure last night his way of ending it? No, he said he’d call you.

By the end of the day, as you were gathering your things, Jane came in to invite you to the bar again.

“No, thanks,” you said. “I haven’t heard from Roger all day, so I don’t feel much like going out.”

She put her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at you.

“Roger?”

“Mark!” you quickly corrected. “Of course I meant Mark, don’t go making this into something that it isn’t!”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” she sighed. “Just shows who is really on your mind.”

Not eager to hear Jane tell your coworkers what she heard, you skipped the bar, and headed home. You still had some research to go over for Roger’s case, especially where the house was concerned.

As you set down your work things, you looked around your flat, recalling the events of the previous evening. You glanced at the phone. The idea of foregoing tradition and calling Mark first crossed your mind, but you pushed it aside. If he needed time to cool off, that’s what you would give him. Instead, you sat on your couch and opened your law book, searching for some precedent similar to Roger’s case.

The next day, you still had no word from Mark when you came into work. Now, you were really worrying. Had something happened to him? Should you report him missing? You shook your head. He was probably just busy and would call you later. You were sure of it.

When ten o’clock rolled around, you were waiting in the conference room when Roger arrived. He looked disheveled, blonde hair rumpled and a wrinkled shirt beneath a leather jacket. His jeans were fine, but his sneakers had an odd stain on them.

“Big night?” you questioned.

He took off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the table.

“Freddie had a party and I needed to unwind before today,” he explained through a groan.

“Ah, I see,” you said. “I’ve got some aspirin in my office, would you like some?”

“Please,” he replied quickly.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him, holding back a laugh.

You left the conference room and started walking to your office.

“Oh, Y/N, before you go in -” Jane began, but you cut her off.

“Not now, Jane, I’m just grabbing some aspirin,” you said.

When you opened the door, you realized what she had been trying to say. Mark was there, leaning against your desk. He looked up at you when you appeared in the doorway.

A soft “oh” fell from your mouth.

“Mark’s waiting for you in your office,” Jane said sassily.

“Thank you, Jane,” you spat, and then slammed the door in her face.

“Can we talk?” Mark asked.

“Now’s really not a good time,” you said. “I’ve got a meeting.”

“Y/N, it's about our relationship,” he went on. “Isn’t that more important than work?”

“I’m sorry, but not while I’m actually in the office working,” you replied. “I only came to my office to grab something for Rog - er, my client, and I’ve got to be back in that room. We’re on a very tight schedule since I’ve got to be in court shortly after.”

“Y/N, I’m working a long shift tonight, I won’t be available later,” he said.

“Well, perhaps you should have thought of that before you ignored me for an entire day,” you snapped.

“Oh, you’re angry at me now?” he demanded.

“I’ve got a right to be!” you shot back. “You stormed out of my flat, said you’d call, and then you didn’t! I’ve already admitted to and apologized for my wrongdoing the other night.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s over,” he argued. “The issue isn’t that you forgot about one night. It’s all the nights you forget. I’m trying to tell you that I feel neglected by you more than I feel loved.”

“Well, Mark, as I said, that’s not a conversation that I -”

Suddenly the door swung open and Roger strode in.

“Y/N, I thought you were just getting aspirin, now Dominique and Tim are here, and my head’s splitting - oh,” he stopped himself, observing you and the man standing beside you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, you didn’t,” you assured him. “Mark, this my client, Roger Taylor. Roger, this is my boyfriend, Mark Bitters.”

They nodded at each other.

“Boyfriend?” Roger questioned.��

You rolled your eyes. Then you opened up your top desk drawer, retrieved the aspirin, and tossed it to him. It rattled as he caught it.

“There. Take care of that headache, Rog, and I’ll be right there,” you said.

Roger looked between you and Mark once more before backing out of the office and returning to the conference room.

“Is that Roger Taylor of Queen?” Mark questioned. “Who is also your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you sighed. “Long story. But I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, then,” he agreed.

Roger stormed back into the conference room, throwing himself into his chair. He slammed the bottle of aspirin down on the table, making Dominique jump.

“Alright, Rog?” she asked.

“She’s got a boyfriend…” he said, mostly to himself.

“Who’s got a boyfriend?” she wondered.

That was when you walked in. You felt some tension in the air, but assumed it was something Roger and Dominique had said to each other in the time you were gone.

“Right, sorry about that,” you said, taking your seat beside Roger. “So, Mrs. Beyrand, I’ve looked into the house issue, and since the deed is solely in my client’s name, without mention of tenants or anything similar, the rights to the property are entirely his.”

Dominique looked at Tim. “Isn’t there anything we can do? I live in that house, I clean it, I’m raising the kids there.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m not comfortable with the assertion no action can be taken,” he said. “Why else do we have these negotiations?”

“Well, comfortable or not, my client has no obligation to allow your client to continue living in his house,” you returned. “There’s no law that protects her. And if you’ve done your job, you’d know that too.”

“So, you expect Mrs. Beyrand to just live on the street?” Tim countered.

“Don’t be absurd, Mr. Hooper,” you said. “The expectation is for her to find a place to live that’s her own. In the meantime, Mr. Taylor has agreed to allow Mrs. Beyrand to live there, is that not true?”

“He has,” Dominique conceded. “But I don’t want to move. Especially with the kids.”

“Christ, Dom, you always do this,” Roger groaned.

“Do what?” she demanded.

“Bring up the kids to make me feel like shit!” he cried. “You’re the one who filed for divorce, did you not expect me to want you out of the house? How else do we move on?”

“I don’t bring the kids up to make you feel like shit, I bring them up because it’s important to consider them,” she retorted. “Putting children first is what good parents do.”

“Hey, I’m a great dad!” he returned hotly. “I provide for my family!”

“Oh, yeah, kicking mum out of the house is some provision,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not kicking you out, this is part of the process!” he insisted. “This is what you always do, guilt trip me until I give in. Well, I’m not giving in with this one!”

“I have to say, I also find this tactic a bit manipulative,” you agreed. “No one is forcing you into homelessness. Roger is quite generously allowing you to live in the home until you’ve found someplace new. As for the children, custody hasn’t been addressed, but we can discuss it at the proper time. Right now, all we need is a time frame.”

You looked at Roger expectantly. Dom and Tim did the same.

“I’ll give you six months,” Roger said.

You blinked, shocked at the selflessness of this. That was much longer than you’d ever heard of. Admiration began to seep into your heart as you looked at him.

Tim whispered something to Dominique, who sighed.

“Alright,” she said. “Six months. I’ll be out.”

“Good,” Roger returned. “Dom, I’m not happy about this, you know.”

“I know,” she replied. “I’m not either. But it’s for the best.”

They went silent. Something passed between them as they locked eyes, but you couldn’t quite name it. Understanding? Regret? General sorrow at the situation?

“Right, let’s continue, shall we?” you said, clearing your throat.

You continued discussing assets and recording everything to put into their final divorce settlement. It seemed that they had both softened at Roger’s offer. As the meeting drew to a close, you looked at Tim.

“Let’s meet again tomorrow afternoon,” you said. “To discuss custody of the children.”

“Very well,” he agreed.

You all shook hands. You watched Tim and Dominique leave, but before she stepped into the lift, she looked at Roger one last time. Then, her eyes found yours. She shook her head and disappeared behind the doors.

“Alright, Rog,” you said. “Come to my office, and we’ll discuss what you want out of the custody meeting.”

He followed you there and closed the door. You placed his file on your desk. As you did, you looked at him again. There was such a drastic change in him since you had seen him last, and it wasn’t just the short hair.

“That was sweet of you, you know,” you told him. “Giving her six months. That’s a lot more than most people would agree to.”

“She’s the mother of my children,” he said. “I’m happy to accommodate her if I can.”

That admiration was starting to make you melt a little.

“You’re a very kind person, Roger,” you said. “I don’t know if people tell you enough.”

“That means a lot, especially from you,” he replied. “I - uh - wasn’t very kind to you, was I?”

“It was a long time ago,” you said. “It hardly matters now. Anyway, let’s talk about your children.”

Roger glanced at the ground to hide his hurt. When he looked back at you, you couldn’t tell that you’d burned him with “It hardly matters now.”

“Right, um, there’s my little boy, Felix,” he said. “He’s three. And then my girl, Rory, and she’s one.”

You tried to keep your eyes from watering.

“Felix?” you questioned. “My dad’s name?”

He flushed and looked down again. “Yeah, well, he was always...there when my own dad, y’know…” he trailed off. “How is your dad?”

“He passed, actually,” you said. “About a year and half ago. I’m sorry, Roger, I had no idea he meant so much to you.”

“S’alright,” he sniffed. “Just as well. I couldn’t have handled it if I’d known.”

Another beat passed.

“How’s your mum?” he asked.

“Still adjusting, but pretty much okay,” you told him. “She’s coming for a visit soon.”

“Good, that’s good,” he said.

In all the time you had known Roger, you had never seen him look so awkward.

“What about your mum and stepdad?” you wondered.

“They’re doing great,” he told you. “Mum’s a bit upset about the divorce, but she’ll get past it.”

“I’m sure you all will,” you said.

“Yeah…”

You held each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment.

“So,” he said, clapping his hands to draw you both away from the trance. “The kids.”

“Right,” you agreed, shaking your head. “So, tell me how your schedule usually works and how often you’d like them to stay with you.”

You took notes as he spoke. You knew that with Roger’s job there was no way to argue for him to have primary custody, especially since the kids were still so little. But, he had rights as their father, and you felt he deserved to see them as often as possible. When he finished, you looked over your notes.

“I think we can work with this,” you said.

“Is that all for today?” he asked.

You nodded. For some reason, you found yourself dreading his departure.

“I’ll you tomorrow then,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

He started toward the door, but when he took hold of the handle, he hesitated. He looked back at you and watched as you pulled out another file from your desk and opened it up. You hadn’t changed much since he last saw you. In fact, you hardly looked aged. Your face still had that youthful brightness to it that he remembered so fondly. The way you hummed as you looked over the papers was so familiar to him, it was as if no time had passed at all.

You looked up and caught him staring.

“Is there anything else, Roger?” you asked.

“No,” he said, but a hit of a smile pulled at his lips. “I’m just really glad you’re my attorney.”

You chuckled. “Any time.”

With that, he tugged the door open. There stood Jane, ear pressed to where the wood once was. Her face went pink.

“I was just - um - I wasn’t - I -” she sputtered.

“Just go to your desk, Jane,” you instructed.

“Sure,” she replied hastily. Then she looked Roger up and down. “Hey,” she said, fluffing her hair.

“Hey yourself,” he returned with a wink, and then left.

You frowned. So much for your good mood.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #Queen #queen x reader #queen imagine #queen x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #just like a woman series

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thecassadilla · 4 years ago

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 4,202/AO3

Summary: Jealousy rears its ugly head as Anna and Kristoff each bring a date to a charity gala.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 4 - Green! It’s a bit of a doozy in terms of length XD The title comes from the Keane song of the same name (I was in the midst of a Grey’s Anatomy binge while writing this lol). Enjoy!!!

As Kristoff sat in his car outside of the banquet hall, he wondered how he’d gotten himself into this situation. Donning a suit, and waiting for his “date” to arrive, he contemplated leaving and never looking back. Truth be told, if it wasn’t for Anna’s sister giving him a job with her company, he wouldn’t be here. And truth be told, he only accepted the job because it meant he’d get to stay close to Anna.

Luckily for him, Anna would always come to his office while he was hard at work and the other employees were packing up for the day. She’d perch herself on the edge of his desk, cross her ankles and fold her hands in her lap while she patiently waited for a sliver of attention from him. When he was finally able to give her the attention that she desired, she’d always brag about her weekend plans or the dates she was going on. He tried his best to play the role of the “supportive best friend who definitely wasn’t in love with her,” despite the fact that that notion couldn’t be farther from the truth; he’d had feelings for her for years and had never found the courage to act upon them. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because he was certain his feelings were unrequited.

The day she’d brought up the gala was different, though, and he recalled their conversation in his head.

“Hey, sorry for staying late again, I just have one more thing to do and then I’ll leave.”

“I’m not here to scold you for staying late - although you probably should go home. I just wanted to let you know that you’ll be sitting at mine and Elsa’s table at the gala.”

He looked over at her for a split second before dragging his eyes back to his work. “I’m sorry, did you just say that I’m sitting at the CEO’s table at a charity gala?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“I should be sitting with the other people in my department, no?”

“Well, we were friends before you started working here, so you’re sitting with us.”

“Great,” he muttered, trying to focus on the numbers in front of him. “Now they’ll all have a real reason to hate me.”

“If anyone hates you, you can refer them to my sister.”

He shook his head, sighing.

“Anyway,” she continued in a sing-song voice, “I just need to know if you’re bringing a guest or -”

“Yes,” he cut her off mid-sentence, without thinking about the repercussions.

“You are?”

“I’m allowed to, right?”

“Of course,” she answered in a strained voice. “I’ll be sure to put down that you’re bringing a guest.”

She hopped down from the desk and made her way to the door without saying another word.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from his work and looking over at her. She normally waited for him to finish so they could walk out together.

“Yeah, uh...I have plans to meet up with someone.”

“Oh, okay. Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

What brought him back to reality was the sight of a car pulling into the spot next to his. He glanced over to find that it was his date, Lauren - who also happened to be his happily-married neighbor. Lauren and her husband, Matt, were the only people who knew about his feelings for Anna, and he often went to them to vent or seek advice. He went to them the same day that Anna came into his office so he could complain to them about about running his stupid mouth.

“Okay, so there’s this stupid charity gala thing coming up at the end of the month. I don’t want to go, but I’m kind of obligated because of the job thing.”

“Uh huh,” Matt nodded.

“And today, Anna came into my office, like she always does, and told me that I’m not going to be sitting with my department, but with her and her CEO sister. And she asked me if I’m bringing a date, which I said ‘yes’ to without even thinking.”

Lauren and Matt exchanged a glance. “What exactly is the problem?” Lauren asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t have a date!” he exclaimed. “I lied about having a date, and Anna is going to have a date, because she’s Anna and she always has a date.”

“Maybe the reason Anna always has a date is because you’d rather complain about her having dates than actually ask her on a date.”

“You’re really not helping.”

“You seem...desperate,” Lauren commented.

He picked his head up and looked over at her. “Do you think it’s too late to get out of it? I could just...not show up, right?”

“Or you could go and just bring a date.”

“Where am I going to find a date?” he scoffed.

“I’ll go with you,” Lauren offered. “It may be my one and only chance to actually meet the object of your affections otherwise known as Anna.”

A set of fingers tapping on his window snapped him out of the flashback. Lauren was standing there, motioning for him to step out of the vehicle. With a sigh, he opened the door and climbed out.

“Thinking about making a run for it?” she teased.

“Sort of,” he answered. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“If I wasn’t so eager to meet the woman you’re in love with, I would’ve have even offered,” she laughed before motioning to her long black dress. “I had to dig this out of my closet. I’m surprised it still fits - I wore it years ago when I was a bridesmaid in my sister’s wedding. I think it’s the only dress I own aside from my wedding dress.”

He blushed at her mention of his feelings for Anna, but decided to brush it off. “You look great.”

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, what’s the angle I’m working with here? Do you want me to give her the third degree?”

“I think you should be yourself,” he said.

“Where’s the fun in that? It’s not like these people will ever see me again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we should go inside.”

The hallway of the venue was bustling with activity, but he was able to locate their seating card right away.

“I’m going to run to the restroom to put on my lipstick and I’ll be right back,” Lauren said after they arrived at the empty table.

As Kristoff looked around the crowded room, he thought for a split second that he’d be able to survive the party and go on with life as usual. Until he spotted Anna and forgot how to breathe.

She was radiant in a long, satin, emerald green a-line dress that hugged the top half of her body and flared out at her hips, only accentuated by a slit that ended mid-thigh. Her hair fell in loose curls that framed her face and her lips were painted a stunning, dark red. A pair of pearl earrings adorned her ears and a matching necklace hung from her throat, but the most noticeable accessory was the arm of the man she had brought as her date, which was interlocked with hers. His jaw tensed up and he was grateful that she wasn’t yet looking in his direction, because his face would certainly give away how envious he was feeling.

But of course, as soon as she saw him, she was rushing over, dragging her handsome mystery guy along.

“Oh Kristoff!” she exclaimed, pressing her cheek to his and making a puckering noise. “You look so handsome!”

“Stop it,” he blushed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” she gushed, looping her arm around the man’s. “I’m being so rude! Kristoff, this is Brian. Brian, Kristoff.”

Brian extended his hand out and though he hesitated for a moment, Kristoff eventually reached out and shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Brian smiled.

“Same here,” Kristoff said, though he was focusing on the other man’s features; dark hair, beard, glasses.

“So, where's your date?”

Anna nudged him. “Brian -”

Kristoff cut her off before she could finish. “Lauren? She’s around here somewhere.”

He swore that he saw Anna’s face twitch, but he convinced himself that it was just the strobe lights playing tricks with his eyes.

She smiled then, he was certain of that, and patted Brian’s arm. “You haven’t seen Elsa around, have you?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“I should probably go find her. We’ll see you in a little bit.”

Before he could utter another word, they were shuffling away, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, Lauren tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“Horrible timing,” he remarked.

“What’d I miss?” she laughed.

“Anna came over, with her date.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Ryder interrupted, his voice startling them.

“Hey,” Kristoff replied, shifting to face him.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Lauren,” she answered for herself, reaching out her hand.

Ryder grinned widely and shook it enthusiastically. “Wow, I can’t believe you brought a date.”

Kristoff glared at him but just as he was about to open his mouth, Lauren refuted the younger man. “Where’s your date?”

“Oh, I don’t -” he started, before throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’m really only here as moral support for my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Speaking of, have you seen your sister? Or Elsa? I know Anna was looking for her.”

“Elsa’s probably in the bathroom, puking or something and I’m sure Honey is with her,” he shrugged. “Speaking of Anna, have you seen her date?”

“You should probably talk less and smile more,” Lauren proposed, immediately sensing Kristoff’s discomfort. “It’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“Whoa, was that a Hamilton reference?”

“Ryder,” Kristoff warned, grabbing his attention. “Just...keep it cool, okay? We’re all adults here and this night isn’t about us.”

“I have a feeling that this dinner is going to be very interesting,” he remarked, before taking his seat at the table.

“He’s right,” Kristoff murmured to Lauren. “He’s going to be the only normal one at the table, and that’s saying something.”

“You should really take your own advice, you know. Keep it cool.”

He motioned to the group that was approaching their table; Elsa and Honeymaren holding hands in ice blue and beige gowns, respectively, and then Anna and Brian, whose arms were still linked. “Here they come.”

“Holy sh*t, why didn’t you tell me they were all literal goddesses?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look at them, all tall and leggy and gorgeous,” she said. “They’re supermodels and I didn’t even bother to dye my roots!”

“What happened to keeping it cool?” he teased. “And you look great.”

“Hi,” Anna said once they’d reached the table. “You must be Lauren.”

Lauren smiled. “I am. And you are?”

“Anna,” she answered, her face falling. The two women exchanged a simple handshake. She didn’t bother to introduce Brian, who took his seat at the table, and instead kept her attention on Lauren. Without skipping a beat, she asked, “How do you and Kristoff know each other?”

“We live in the same apartment building,” Lauren explained. “Kind of hard to ignore a guy as big as him in the laundry room. How do you know Kristoff?”

Anna glanced over at Kristoff, as if she had expected him to have told Lauren this stuff in previous conversation. “We’ve been friends for like, ever,” she smiled tensely before looking at him again and clearing her throat. “Really good friends.”

“I was kind of asking how you met,” Lauren chuckled.

“Oh. We met in college. He didn’t want to be bothered and I just...kept bothering him.”

He smiled at the memory of her insisting on sitting next to him in class while he was trying to be invisible. His first impression was that she was a little too perky, but that opinion vanished within a week when he realized how charming and friendly she was. She had had nothing but good intentions, after all.

Anna, on the other hand, seemed to be out of character in the present moment. He was having trouble reading her face as well as he normally could, but something seemed off about how she’d responded to Lauren; he couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or resentment or something else. He became worried that this event would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in terms of their friendship, and he couldn’t imagine his life without Anna in it.

For most of the night, the table was tense and unusually quiet. In between the dancing and speeches, there was little socialization with the exception of Ryder, who was relishing in the ability to be the center of attention for a few minutes at a time. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his eyebrows were drawn tightly together and his jaw was clenched as he watched Anna and Brian whisper to each other. Whenever Anna wasn’t speaking, he caught her looking over in his direction, lips pursed.

“She looks like she’s trying to choke back vomit,” Lauren whispered at one point, looking in Anna’s direction. “Is she okay?”

“I have no idea, she’s normally very talkative. I’m worried about her.”

“Ask her if she’s okay.”

“No, Brian is next to her. She’ll tell him or her sister if something’s wrong.”

Towards the end of the night, the dancing resumed once again, and thankfully, Lauren was as disinterested as Kristoff was, so they hung back at the table while everyone else departed.

“Is it always like that with them?” Lauren spoke up as soon as the others were out of ear shot. “Tense and awkward?”

“No,” Kristoff answered, shaking his head. “I have no idea what that was about. Especially Anna - on a normal day, she’d talk your ear off.”

“She really didn’t look well. Something is eating her alive and I have a feeling that I know what it is.”

“Huh?”

“Is it possible...and just, hear me out -”

“What?” he asked, impatiently.

“Is it possible that the reason she parades all of those guys around you is because she wants attention from you?”

He looked at her solemnly, unable to muster up a response. He shrugged instead of answering.

Her face softened. “Something is not being said here.”

“I don’t know, Lauren. I really don’t know.”

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but the only way to resolve this is to talk to her. And to be honest, about everything.”

“Yeah, but what if it goes horribly wrong?”

“What’s the absolute worst that happens? You quit your job and stop talking to them? You have a very employable job and you’re a good-looking guy - the ball is in your court no matter which way it goes.”

As if on cue, Anna appeared behind them. “Uh, Lauren, I hope you don’t mind me asking to take your date away, but Kristoff promised me a dance,” she said, before looking at Kristoff and adding, “If you’re up to it.”

He nodded - even though he was certain they’d never talked about sharing a dance - and moved to stand up, before Lauren placed a hand on his arm. “I’m actually going to head out now. I have work in the morning and I should go home and get some sleep.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she answered. She stood up, then, and he quickly followed suit. “It was really nice to meet you, Anna.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Anna whispered as Lauren walked away.

Kristoff held out his arm, and she looked up at him for a moment, as if she were unsure of what to do before finally accepting. They walked quietly to the dance floor, and once there, they locked their hands together. Anna draped her free arm around his shoulder and his free hand fell to her waist as they began to sway back and forth.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted. “But it was really great to see you with Lauren, she’s a really nice girl.”

“Anna -”

“I did promise myself that I would be honest, though,” she said, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were brimming with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t positively green with envy the entire time.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on,” she retorted, a hollow laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t notice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You came with Brian -”

“Brian’s my friend,” she confessed suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I’m not interested in him at all and I only asked him to come with me because you didn’t ask me.”

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to ask you.”

“I tried to make it obvious, but you said you were bringing someone and you brought Lauren, so clearly you weren’t going to ask me anyway.”

“Lauren is married.”

“She - what?”

“She’s married. She lives in my building, and I watch football with her husband. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Oh,” she croaked, gripping his jacket tightly in her hand.

“I think we…I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. He reached up to brush it away, allowing his hand to linger for a moment and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

“Did you drive here?”

“No, Honey drove me.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

She shook her head, lip quivering. “I don’t want to go home.”

“You can come back to my place,” he assured her. “We can talk there.”

She nodded, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and walked her toward the exit, not bothering to say goodbye to any of their friends. When they reached the glass doors that led to the parking lot, it became apparent that it was torrentially raining outside.

“Wait here, I’ll go get the car.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re going to ruin your dress,” he said, but it was too late. She pushed the door open and stepped out into the torrential rain, instantly soaking her dress and hair. With a sigh, he followed her out and pointed in the direction of his car. “I parked over there.”

By the time they made it to his car, they were drenched from head to toe.

“I’m going to put the heat on so we can dry off a little,” he said, before reaching inside the center console and pulling out a stack of napkins. “Here, so you can wipe your face.”

She sat motionless, strands of her dampened hair clinging to her face for a moment, before finally accepting one and wiping her face. The ride back to his apartment was silent, and the second walk in the rain was equally as unpleasant as the first. The water dripping off of them left a trail in the carpet and puddles in the elevator, and he was relieved when they finally made it to his apartment. She kicked off her heels at his front door, and he did the same with his shoes and socks.

“I’ll get you some dry clothes, okay? And you can take a hot shower to warm up.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he insisted. “I can go after you.”

She gave him a small nod and he led her into his bedroom. He retrieved a clean, dry set of clothes that she could wear, fully aware that they would swamp her petite body, and laid them on the bathroom counter along with a few clean towels.

As soon as the door closed and the water turned on, he stripped off his own clothes, exchanging them for dry ones. He wouldn’t be able to take his suit to the dry cleaners until tomorrow, so he’d have to hang it from the shower rod and hope that it wouldn’t somehow be ruined overnight.

She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around her head, and he smiled at the sight of it. As predicted, his clothes were hanging off of her, but she looked quite adorable. “I’m going to jump in, I’ll be out in a few.”

As promised, he showered quickly, relishing the comfort of his dry clothes. He made sure to hang Anna’s dress from the curtain rod in addition to his suit. When he emerged from the bathroom, he found Anna sitting on his bed, and he took a seat next to her. They were quiet for a long, long time, and he worried that this was going to be the end of everything for them.

“I talk about you,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“What?” she asked, her voice wobbly.

“I know Lauren made it seem like I never talk about you, but I do,” he confirmed. “A lot. I think Lauren and her husband know more about you than they know about me.”

She sniffled. “That’s so nice.”

“And I...I would’ve asked you if I had known that was what you wanted.”

“You didn’t…” she started, before closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault. I could’ve asked you, or I could’ve - there are so many things I could’ve said or done.”

He shook his head. “You said you were being obvious about it -”

She cut him off mid-sentence. “You were working and I was bothering you.”

“No, you weren’t bothering me. You never bother me. I jumped to conclusions,” he admitted, hanging his head. “I thought the reason you brought up the charity gala that day was because you were rubbing in the fact that you had a date. You always have dates. To quote Lauren, you’re a goddess. It isn’t that hard to believe that men are throwing themselves at you.”

She sighed, trying to maintain her composure. “Kristoff, I know that I always talk about my plans, but I don’t go out as often as I’ve led you to believe. In all honesty, I was trying to make you jealous.”

“It worked,” he frowned. “I never said anything because I wanted you to be happy. And I believed that if you viewed me as the type of person that you could share stuff like that with, then you wouldn’t be interested in me as anything more than a friend.”

"Tonight, I got a taste of my own medicine and I can't say I didn't deserve it. Watching you with Lauren - well, there was a part of me that was happy you found someone, but I wished it was me. I wished that I was Lauren, and that you were paying attention to me, and whispering in my ear, and touching me."

"How do you think I felt all this time? Every time you were bragging about a date? Or even tonight, when you brought Brian?"

“I’m really sorry,” she whimpered. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.”

He exhaled deeply. “I think we’re both equally to blame.”

“How did we get to this point? How do we fix this?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “I think we both have to be honest about what we want. No more lying, no more games, no more trying to make the other person jealous.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and wiped away a fallen tear before saying, “I want you.”

“And I want you.”

“So we both want the same thing? We can be together?”

He smirked. “I think it would be foolish if we didn’t get together.”

She smiled genuinely for the first time that night, before asking in a small voice, “Can I stay here tonight?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

They crawled to the top of the bed and nestled under the covers after he turned out the lights, a safe distance between them until Anna spoke up. “Will you hold me?”

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

She curled up against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, determined to keep her safe and warm. He certainly hadn’t expected that this was how they would end their night, but he was so glad that it had gone in this direction. The alternative - the one he feared would happen - where their friendship would end and there’d be nothing left but broken hearts and falling tears was much scarier. Now, there was no more jealousy and no more fabrications, just the simple-yet-complicated thing they had between them. And he selfishly hoped they could stay this way forever.

“I really missed you tonight,” she said. “I missed talking to you, and spending time with you, and I never want to go through that again.”

He tightened his grip on her. “I missed you, too.”

“Don’t let me go, okay? Please?”

“Never,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. And he intended to keep that promise for as long as she’d let him.

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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equalseleventhirds · 5 years ago

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i am thinking about, right, like a fairy tale land, where things operate on fairy tale rules. you know the ones. everyone in this fairy tale land knows them too, and Expects Things.

and there’s a young man--youngest of seven brothers, actually, who were themselves the offspring of a seventh son. we all know what that means. he knows what that means. his parents, when a seventh son was born in their humble farmhouse, sure did know what that meant (and perhaps, shortly after he was born, neighbors and townsfolk and gentry and wizards and perhaps-royalty-in-disguise visited, and gave them gifts, until their farmhouse was not so humble, because it’s always good to get on the good side of someone you know is going far).

so the boy was special, and everyone knew he was special. and his brothers were not wicked, of course, but they knew he was different, knew he would be great. knew what that meant for them.

the oldest knew that the prosperity of their farm was because of his youngest brother, and he was grateful, but, well, just a bit resentful. his youngest brother would be great, would be the greatest among them, but what did that leave for the oldest? waiting until his brother completed whatever task he had, then living on his good will? no, that would not do, for he was independent and proud--he had been, until quite recently, an Oldest Brother. when there were only three our four or five or six brothers, that meant quite a bit, responsibility and experience and so on. he was not yet ready to let that go.

so! he decided, the youngest would be greatest, but that did not mean the oldest could not still be great! and off he went, seeking his fortune, knowing he could not aim too high or he would fail, but perhaps something smaller. perhaps just, apprenticing at a well-to-do smithy in town, and learning a new trade, and learning it well, and eventually marrying his teacher’s daughter, who was just as able a smith as he, and partnering with her, and taking over the smithy, and expanding the business.

the oldest brother was not too ambitious, and so, as fairy tales allow, he was successful enough.

well! the second oldest, of course, could not simply stay at home after that. there are rules to these things, after all--the seventh will be greatest, but the oldest cannot be the next greatest. there is a pattern to be kept. so although the second oldest son rather enjoyed the work on their no-longer-quite-so-humble farm--although he enjoyed rising at dawn each day to milk the cows, although he enjoyed working the fields in the sunshine--he knew he had to go and be just a little greater than his older brother. if not, things might just come around and ruin someone’s life, and he didn’t want it to be him, and he didn’t want it to be his older brother.

so! he decided, if he loved the farm so much, perhaps he could be a great farmer? so he went around to other farms, signing on as a farmhand for a while, making contacts, learning other methods besides what his family had always used. and one day he went to a very large farm, owned by a wealthy landowner, who owned several such farms. and he met the landowner’s son, who was impressed by his knowledge and his skill and his strong, sturdy arms, and soon enough they were wed as well, and the second son found his place of small greatness.

the second son was not ambitious at all, but carefully curated his aspirations to be just slightly more than his brother’s, and so, as fairy tales allow, he was successful as well.

and so it continued--the third son found his place as a scholar and taught at university with his spouse; the fourth son joined a trade caravan and soon enough wed the caravan leader; the fifth son became a mayor with his wise wife beside him; the sixth son found himself surprisingly adept at magic, and wed a noble sorcerer, advisor to a king. each was just a bit greater than the last, but careful never to try to be too great, of course.

at last the seventh son was the only one who had not yet found his fortune, and, being now an adult, set out to seek it.

‘oh, my son,’ said his mother, preparing him for his journey, ‘all six of your brothers have been so successful, each one more than the last. surely you, seventh son of a seventh son, will achieve the greatest destiny of all of them. why, i would not be terribly surprised if you were to save a princess, or a prince, and gain their hand in marriage and half a kingdom.’ (these things are, as we know, quite standard destinies for the seventh son of a seventh son.)

‘yes, mother’, said the young man, who was not in fact entirely certain he wanted to save and marry any sort of royalty. not that he would leave a prince or princess in distress to their terrible fate, of course, for he was a kind-hearted young man, but he was not sure about this ‘marrying someone because you saved them’ business. and ruling over half a kingdom sounded like an awful lot of responsibility; he couldn’t even tell their hen what to do when she was in a cross mood, which was often.

still, he knew the rules of the world just as well as any. if his brothers had all done so well in their lives, he would find even more success, whether he wanted to or not.

so! he packed his bags, and kissed his mother on the cheek, and went, uncertain, to seek his fortune.

he had not been traveling for very long (although, of course, long enough to meet several creatures in need, who he helped and who promised to help him in his time of need, as is the way of these things) when he found a palace, where weeping and wailing filled the air.

he made his way to the palace courtyard, where a crowd of nobles and royalty stood, crying and commiserating. upon asking a servant (for even a seventh son of a seventh son, unproved as he was, could not directly ask the king and queen), he was told that the princess of the land had been stolen away by bandits, and none of the knights or lords or heroes sent after her had been able to save her, but had returned in disgrace, too ashamed to even tell of their attempts. the king and queen had even offered half their kingdom and the princess’ hand in marriage to anyone who would bring her safely home, but none had succeeded.

well! the young man knew destiny when it shook his hand, even if he rather wished he’d had more time to explore the world before meeting Expectations. still, he was not about to leave a princess and her kingdom suffering. so he politely asked where the bandits might be found and, shouldering his pack, set off once more to meet his destiny.

the bandit camp was outside the city, past the forest, in the hills on the edge of a desert. the young man met several obstacles on his way, but with his own wit, and kindness, and strength, and the help of some of the creatures he had saved, he made it there safely. right outside the cave the bandits camped in, a young woman with flame-red hair sat in a rickety chair, sharpening a wicked-looking sword.

‘who are you?’ she called out sharply.

‘i’m here to rescue the princess,’ he told her, polite as ever. ‘it would be best for you to surrender her, for i am the seventh son of a seventh son, and you know how these things always go. people like me are quite good at saving princesses, i’m afraid.’

the young woman scoffed and tossed her head, her hair shining in the setting sun. ‘i rather think not! for you would not be rescuing a princess, but kidnapping her, and removing her to a cruel and unjust fate. i am that princess; i ran away to join these bandits, for i can better serve my people here than in that palace of wealth, glutted on the work of the poor.’

the young man thought about this, and remembered the hollow faces and hungry stares of the peasants he had passed in this kingdom, so different from the people near his own no-longer-humble farm at home. still, he was clever, and thought it best to check. ‘and how do i know you are the princess, as you say?’

‘simple! my face is upon half the coins you see in this land--coins i have here, which we recently stole from a wicked, wealthy nobleman.’

and indeed, after some examination, and a few more questions, the young man conceded she was indeed the princess, and here by her own choice, in fact, he was quite relieved at this, and said so.

‘i am quite relieved,’ he told her earnestly, ‘since this means you do not need rescuing, and so i will not have to marry you. no offense meant to you, but we have only just met.’

at this, the bandit princess laughed, loud and sudden. ‘none taken! and i will not beat you as i did the last few heroes to come here.’

‘and i’m very grateful for it!’

‘but it’s getting very late,’ she continued, ‘and as you are peaceful towards us, i suppose you might stay the night. it is nearly supper time.’

now, the young man knew how these things tend to work, and knew there was a chance of the princess falling in love with him now. but he was also very tired, and very hungry, and knew better than to turn down a kindness, and so he accepted.

luckily, it quickly became clear that the bandit princess was much more concerned with her second-in-command--a peasant woman turned bandit, with lovely dark eyes that followed her princess’s every move in turn--than with the seventh son. reassured, he went to help the bandits’ cook, as he had been a help in the kitchen at home when he was young.

the cook was round and strong and amiable, and soon enough the young man had shared the story of his journey, and all the interesting things that had happened so far: the people he’d met, the sights he’d seen, the mysterious creatures he had helped and been helped by in return.

‘and then i heard about the princess, and i came here,’ he concluded, ‘using up several of my favors on the way. i will have to collect more, i suppose, to be used when i find a royal heir who does need rescuing, although i hope that is a long way off.’

‘why do you hope that?’ the cook asked, handing him a basket of flat bread. ‘do you not enjoy helping people?’

‘oh i do!’ the young man said. ‘i truly do! and these adventures are so interesting, too! which is why i hope i don’t rescue any princes or princesses for a while, for then my journey will have to end, as i will have a royal spouse to wed and half a kingdom to rule.’

‘can’t you just save them and leave without marrying them?’

‘oh, no! i have to marry them and rule half the kingdom. that is my glorious destiny, as the seventh son of a seventh son.’

‘for someone with such a glorious destiny, you don’t seem too excited by it.’

the young man sighed, despondent. ‘no, i suppose not. but what can i do? each of my six brothers has had such great success, and married such a wonderful spouse, that surely my destiny must be even greater success, and a great spouse, whatever else i may want. that is the way the world works, you know.’

the cook turned sharp, clever eyes on him, lifting a spoonful of stew for him to taste. ‘is it? how interesting. and the world has always worked this way?’

‘oh yes! i’m afraid so.’

‘and no one has been great enough to change it?’

‘oh no, i’m afraid not.’

‘well! then it rather sounds like the world has been rather trapped in this way for too long. i wonder if someone with a glorious destiny might rescue it, and change things a bit.’

#hmmmm sometimes u drink A Lot Of Gin #and write urself a little fairy tale about an aromantic hero #and romantic expectations #and The Way The World Works #...........ending is kinda vague and open ended #i'm drunk and actually i was trying to work out a basis for a character #and instead wrote his whole backstory #oh well #hm. anyway.#algie writes things

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