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mimimariet · 10 months ago

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Vent art.

At least that's the truest thing my ex ever said lmao.

This is.. long. And not all of it. But just some of the important things I feel like sharing.

Being in love really does just blind you from all the red flags your partner displays. My friends hated him. They also witnessed the abuse and I was just like "oh nah this is normal he's always like this! He means well, he's such a sweetie! He loves me!" Meanwhile I'm getting emotionally abused and neglected being absolutely blinded.. I said yes to marrying this dude. I'm embarrassed. And it's gonna take me so long to recover from the mental damage. "I talk to everyone the same way I talk to you!" and I have people saying "uh, no?"

"I don't want to be perceived as a bad person!" and then treats me like shit behind closed doors.

Every single time I cleaned he shat on me about it "You call this clean, Marie? This is disgusting. If you're gonna clean dishes, just don't. Stick to the easy things." He sent me voice clips to intimidate me. I told him I wanted a ukulele and he sent me like 10 minutes of voice clips saying "no you waste your money Marie you don't use the shit you ever buy for yourself!" and then at the same time "It's your money you can do as you please I don't care what you buy but I know you're not gonna use it." I'll never be able to forget the cruel words and way he treated me. I can probably heal from it, and I could wish him dead. I would love to see him get the help he needs but that's a damn joke. "My mom was right, we're not financially compatible. She always said "wine taste but beer money."" The end of our relationship being a "trial run, welcome to a real relationship, Marie. This is what it's like." and then taking a dig at.. my upbringing? My family?? How I was raised?? "I never once gaslit you Marie. I never once made you feel like you were crazy."

"It's not you, it's me." and then blaming me for "bad timing" anytime he wanted to do anything with me when I was in a depressive episode from something HE would always cause. He never wanted to leave the house. He promised me all these things we'd do when I'd move all the way from Florida to bumfuck Illinois. I don't hate where I live. I hate that I got lied to that things would be different. "You can heal in the environment you got sick in" and then just made me sicker. The engagement ring he got me didn't fit. It was his idea to get me a new one. Who paid for it? My credit card. It took him 2 years to pay me back the $375 that was spent on it. 2 YEARS. He made me feel so undesirable. "Marie it really hurts ME when you say you're unattractive, cause you are. You're fucking gorgeous!" and then proceeds to never touch me. Lol. A whole year without intimacy. Only recently had it dawned on me just how manipulative he was. "I was gonna ask for sexy times but you're upset so maybe another time." It happened EVERY time I was down in the dumps. He said "I dunno if it's you or me who has bad timing." Go to hell. There's another thing I could say but that's his problem that I won't just share to the public. But even then, he never did anything he said he'd do to resolve that. More lies, anything to keep me with him. "You need to learn how to cope." he said to me when we haven't had alone time in months and I was upset about it.

There was a segment in the H3 Podcast where they announced looking for artists for Teddy Fresh. He told me about it and said I should apply. I asked later about my resume and he said "Oh.. I didn't think you'd actually do it. I dunno." Very supportive partner he was!

"When you're in Illinois we're gonna get you health insurance, we're gonna get you a car and your license" and then "I suck as a teacher, my dad's gonna teach you." and he handled all my medical stuff. When I transferred to Circle K up here I had to quit, cause management was super toxic. We worked at the same store and the manager would tell him how she was going to fire me cause I was an awful employee. So I sought out a new job.. and during that.. "You're gonna get your GED Marie!" and he brings home a math book to go over fractions with me. "I don't want to get my GED." "Well how are you going to get a better job??" and when I ended things, YES I ENDED THINGS IT WAS NOT MUTUAL. "Maybe I didn't push you (for the GED) hard enough or maybe I pushed you too hard.." is what he had to say.

I owned a lot of clothes. He bitched at me when I first moved here and said "You were supposed to DOWNSIZE Marie! I just had surgery, my grandpa has a bad hip and this is too much shit!" and so I got rid of my stuff. "I never wanted you to get rid of your stuff, I know you love clothes and stuff" or whatever he said to me post breakup. Are you kidding me?! "I have so much anxiety Marie! I'm a minimalist! This is too much!"

We never went out and kept the love alive. We'd go out to dinner and I'd mostly pay and I guess to him that was emasculating? "I hate that you always have to pay. How do you think that makes me feel as a partner that can't pay for dinner for his wife??" "It's okay I don't mind paying." "I know you don't." We went out I could probably count on my fingers the times.. Cause "it hurts to drive long distances Marie. I never feel good. I don't have the spoons, Marie. My legs hurt when I drive too long. I have anxiety."

"Why not get help for your anxiety?" "I don't like the way the medication makes me feel!!! Stop asking me. It pisses me off."

Turns out he had "emergency" anti-anxiety meds for a program at his job. No anxiety meds for Chicago, though.

"I'd take a bullet for you, but not go to Chicago. I'd go to PEORIA, but NOT Chicago." For internalized racism reasons as I learned. I get it, black people are sooOoOoOoOOoo scary. They're rare where we live. It's so fucking WHITE in this town! I was told I was going to get TRAFFICKED if I walked by myself at night time. Cause "You're rare, you're Puerto Rican. You'd go for a lot of money. Hahaha." What partner says that? Oh yeah, him. I hope he never gets into another relationship. For the sake of the girl. Try to understand, this was a once in a lifetime event. I won a spot in Kesha's listening party in Chicago. I sobbed I cried I choked on my own spit begging him to go with him. He has NO experience in Chicago so he says "well according to x who lives there, depending on the area, it's BAD. Chicago's BAD." I understood that the timing sucked, the event was on Mother's Day. Y'know, a holiday I don't believe should be a big deal if you truly love your mother every day should be Mother's Day. Also Kesha was there. I got to meet her. A photo with her. I was able to talk to her. I wanted to find out if her PO Box was still available but he rushed me to leave "Marie my blood sugar is super low I'm gonna throw up we HAVE to leave I HAVE TO EAT. Marie come on. Get the LYFT. I don't feel good." at the end of the trip, after the deep dish pizza and the nice hotel, he suggested we take time off to visit Chicago again.. to see more things.. Mind you we argued prior about even going in the first place..?

I have him blocked, but I archived our messenger messages. That includes all the voice clips. I don't know why that was his go to. He also has a smart phone with voice to text, but as I said, he used voice messages to intimidate me. It'd be 5 minutes at a time of just voice clips that could've been a text. "It's just faster than typing, sometimes it hurts to type." I'm disabled, too.. I get it.. but he merely did it so he could raise his voice and have a shitty tone with me. All. the time. If I were a truly evil person those voice clips would see the public. I'm only a little evil with telling my story here. I guess.

I mentioned the tone issue several times and had to eventually give up cause "I talk to everyone the way I talk to you. My mom, my sister, my friends." but I never witnessed that. His mother, yes. Not his friends, though. He'd say to me anytime I'd get upset, "I'm quite literally tone deaf, Marie." "Well you don't talk to your patrons the way you talk to me??" He had to tell me that he comes home to unwind, cause he puts up that fake customer service personality. Where was the good boyfriend personality? He told me anytime that I was acting distant he was quietly sobbing in the bedroom alone. He was so worried about me and our relationship.. But proceeded to do nothing about it. I was merely his property. Someone to demean and control. He couldn't though. I'm no ones property. Sorry!

In June we adopted Gold. She's forever a kitten at heart. Callie hated her, as expected with a new animal in the house. Callie was hostile. Isaac said he was going to give up and we'd have to return Gold cause it wasn't working out. He sobbed on Facebook asking for reassurance and then bitched at me saying how I wasn't reassuring him. Sir, you got that on Facebook. You're standing here yelling at me about the cats not getting along. Why would I want to respond to that? I was sobbing on the floor with Gold rubbing all over me. But it was my fault I wasn't comforting the man yelling at me. Meanwhile another mutual of ours prior to all this had also adopted a new cat and the original cat was doing the same shit. Everything he'd say in confidence to me, but never the people he spoke shit about by the way. "I got you this cat to make YOU happy. I mean yeah I wanted another cat, too.."

For my birthday all I asked for was an Icee. "I forgot." He came home with flowers and candy, but i was coming to greet him at the door and he yelled at me "DON'T LOOK. STOP. LEAVE." to surprise me with what he got. Which I would get but that's how he usually "spoke" to me.

"Despite my short comings, I do pretty good right?!" with candy, a ghost plushie, and flowers. "I'll get you an Icee tomorrow." It was 2 days later. Which sounds petty but when that's all you ask for and get told "Oh I forgot." as if I'm not known for being the Icee Queen of the last 20 years of my online presence.

"I don't want to be perceived as a bad person." The simple solution is to be a good person? He would say "your mom is nice, but she's not kind." He was also indirectly describing himself anytime he said that.

There were a few times when he'd be in a bad mood and completely shut down, refusing to talk to me. He'd isolate, but I was never allowed to do that. Cause as he said before, word for word "you need to learn how to cope."

"You say I need therapy but what about you!?"

"Didn't you tell me you were doing behavioral stuff for BPD??"

Just turned back to me "but you need therapy, too, Marie!!"

It's weird to remember him saying we'd need couples therapy before we ever got married. Was he foreshadowing things? Was he actually aware of the problems? Or was it just me? I had the problems, there was nothing wrong with him.

I rarely argued back at this man. There was one moment I was having issues with my ebay account and bank being linked together. As he's going off on me about how the bank does this weird shit all while opening my mail and reading me what was in it. I think that was the only time I snapped at him. I said "DON'T. OPEN. MY MAIL." and it stuck to him.. but not permanently. He opened mail addressed to me from my aunt. Gifts. I was in the other room and he's opening and spoiling the surprise. And then telling me "we can't use these bed sheets with the pillow topper. We'll have to donate them." Any gifts I got that are no longer in my possession was not up to me. I barely had any say in what we did as a couple.

"Our parents are gonna move to Florida and we'll get the house! But (his brother) will still be living in the basement." I wasn't okay with that. "We don't have much of a choice Marie. We can't afford that house on our own. He'd be splitting rent with us." I didn't want another person living in the basement if we were a married couple.. y'know, I'd like whatever imaginary privacy together. "He keeps to himself we won't even know he's there half the time." It was a "too bad" situation that I had no say.

I want my own house. "With peace and love, good luck getting a house with the housing market." Going to prove him wrong while he still lives in his parents basement. "I'm gonna save up and get a studio apartment."

"You can keep the promise ring. Cause I will always love you." I'm unsure what to do with it, as I still have it in my possession. "We'll always be best friends." I don't want to be best friends with an abuser. Emotional abuse is still abuse. It's fucked with my brain. I was mistreated so much by friends and family. I didn't deserve any of this. "I fucked up. You deserved better." Is the truest shit he's ever said to me. I doubt he ever loved me. He just loved the idea of having someone put up with him. He knew he was unbearable. Blame it on his ADHD or whatever. I don't have the full story, but I do remember his ex girlfriend saying he was abusive, too. I only knew of what he'd tell me. And that she hated me haha. I didn't push or question it, but now I've lived it. Almost 5 years of a "trial run" relationship. "You've never been in an actual relationship, so congrats. This was the trial run! This is what it's like to live with someone!"

Then there was my doctors appointment. The stress had my A1C at a 6.6. My doctor said she could see the light fade from my eyes. I told Isaac what was said. He was just quiet about it. He knew he was the problem. He just had nothing to say. And the stress was the main factor. My A1C now is 6.2 5 months post breakup. So uh. Yeah. Plus probably from cutting out the amount of rice as this man only knew how to make rice dishes.

Speaking of dishes, I'd try and learn recipes. I'd make meals and I'd offer him some food to sample. I wanted to grow as a cook as I'm just a beginner and he always makes meals. Most of the time he refused and would say "I can't force myself to eat something I don't want, Marie. I'll throw up. I will literally throw it up." Instead of anything normal like just trying a bite or saying "no thanks I'm not hungry." It had to be "If I'm not hungry for it I will get sick!" He was.. overdramatic a good chunk of our relationship. I remember being in Florida while we were still long distance, I mentioned Dominoes cause the store was closed and I was ordering food. He mentioned him having an eating disorder when I said he needed to try my favorite thing from there, the garlic parm bites. It was a voice clip as you'd expect over messenger. That "I can't eat something I don't want, I will puke it up. I have an eating disorder." I don't know how true that is. Him having an ED. A lot of the time I just got quiet and gave up. There was no point in talking to him when he would shut down like this.

The final straw was me falling in love with someone else. I wanted to attempt polyamory but "those lips are mine. And that pussy is mine." He also gave up once he realized I fell for someone else. I even told him the day I was questioning my feelings and he thanked me for being honest. But then he questioned if I cheated on him during that time. I'm sure his friends and family got a different story. His dad says polyamory is cheating. His mom scolded him for getting into a relationship with someone whos polyamorous. No fault of mine, he knew this before we got together. I was in a poly with my ex overseas and a girl of 3 months. More toxicity there! I just love red flags!

So there I am. Just vibing in a field of red flags. Cause they're just so charming. And I'm a fool. But I'll get better. I just don't know how long that'll take me. He is still haunting me in my dreams. I never want to see him or his family again.

#not quite the full story but a place to read if u care lol

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takaraphoenix · 3 months ago

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An assortment of the shit that's happened in the past three months because I actually really need to put it all together for once:

after 10 hours in the ER, my mom got wrongfully diagnosed with pneumonia. the ER was. triggering for me, for other mom-related-health-issues

only one entire week later did she get the right diagnose of heart failure. this fucked me up. badly

it took another damn week for her to be admitted to the heart-hospital which was so much worry and stress

her open heart surgery was postponed four times. which did not just drag everything out but every day was more anxiety

I became the primary updater for everyone. friends, family. it was so exhausting to be spending these two months having to keep track of daily updates to my grandparents, keeping my dad in the loop, not forgetting anyone else

after her successful surgery, the doctor encouraged us to visit her in the ICU because she was doing "so good". she was delirious. I mean clinically delirious. it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my fucking life to see her like this. I still think about it approximately every second day with cold fear

while she was in the hospital recovering, and then in physical rehab, on top of keeping track of updating everyone, running the household alone, I also got to spend every single day off visiting her, which was one and a half hours of back and forth drive alone so there went the entire day off

oh yeah, I started a new job in July! Smack in the middle, literally four days after her heart surgery, so I had to adjust to a new schedule and had to learn a whole new field of work and I could have really used those weekends to breath

I fell and overstretched my ligaments. 6 hours in the ER. Two weeks on crutches

I got triggered at work. Different trauma not mom related. The thing that fucked me up The Most reared its head and it fucked me up for a couple days

my grandparents decided to appoint me responsible for their finances in case of their death, which includes their last will, which is how I learned that I actually get the smallest portion in that will and it's not even about the money it's about how unvalued I feel I mean you trust me to enact your will, I'm "the good grandchild", I always worked so damn hard not to disappoint but I guess not disappointing means being secure enough that I don't need the financial help even though they know that I am still in deep fucking debt

I got covid! spent the past ten days sick in bed. I had forgotten how fucking awful it feels to be unable to properly breath

for the past I would say two months not a week has passed where I didn't have one night that I just fully didn't sleep at all because I am so wired and strung up from all the stress and anxiety

I wrote over 150k this month. that's both a source of joy but also a source of concern because you can probably picture how time consuming that would have to be and I genuinely don't know where I found the time to do that between work and worrying about my mom

Y'all know that feeling when you're running on fumes for so long your hands start shaking and you start sleeping worse and worse and you know in the back of your head you're gonna crash so fucking badly?

Prayer circle that I will be able to push past for another week and a half because I swear to the fucking gods if I give out before I go to the biggest anime/manga con in my fucking country (Connichi) next weekend there WILL be bloodshed.

#Personal #it feels like there is multiple tw in there but I wouldn't even know how to start #tw: health issues #that's the only one I know for sure???#I'm so fucking tired

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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

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MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Part 3! Starring Mini Mammon and Mini Asmo!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Underground Tomb special Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 4

MC names:

Lucifer’s kid=L!MC | Mammon’s kid=M!MC | Asmo’s kid=A!MC

Why did bad things happen to good people? Well... Lucifer being a good person is up to interpretation. He hadn’t done anything too heinous recently, his instruments of torture were collecting dust for goodness sake! So why oh why was he staring down two half demon children who looked suspiciously like two of his brothers?

The first kid to step forward was Mammon’s without a doubt, but their general demeanour was very different from their father’s. Perhaps their other parent had done a good job-

“What the fuck was that?!”

Never mind. The kid had Mammon’s pottymouth.

The other child surveyed the scene with a nervousness that their suspected parent never possessed. The kid’s gaze fell on Lucifer, their eyes began to glow ever so slightly. “Uh-um...” the kid cleared their throat. “Someone explain what’s going on!”

Was this child seriously trying to use manipulation powers on Lucifer? He almost laughed at the mere idea of someone trying. The child didn’t even seem to be aware that they were doing it. When their question was met with blank stares, they instantly shrank back and practically hid behind the first half demon. Despite the severe self-esteem difference, this kid was Asmodeus’.

Lucifer’s own child cleared their throat and smiled. “Welcome to the Devildom!”

The Uncle That Looks Like he Has his Shit Together but he Leaves the Reunion Drunk off his Rocker (Lucifer)

Ah shit here we go again-

Okay- okay. Normally he’d scold L!MC for taking Diavolo’s line, but Dia had recovered from his shock and was now gushing over the new exchange students like an excited puppy.

“Okay... L!MC you’re going to need to share your room.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Unless Belphie is willing to give up the attic as a nap spot-”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“You’re sharing your room.”

RAD was buzzing with gossip for the entire first month of the second attempt at the exchange program. The threats of being eaten were once again stamped out very quickly.

(Special thanks to L!MC for being a good bodyguard)

Now, Lucifer didn’t exactly know what to expect when it came to the child of his favourite brother. Mammon was a dumbass, but this kid... this kid...

Was smart.

For the first time in Lucifer’s very long life he felt compelled to place someone in a higher echelon than himself.

Mammon’s child managed to successfully budget that dumpster fire of a house. On the first fucking day. Not only that. This kid managed to skim FIVE THOUSAND GRIMM OFF THE TOP AND THE BUDGET STILL WORKED! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT-

Lucifer and Mammon thanked whatever spirit was watching over them because they truly believed their financial woes were over.

Shame that M!MC also spent their money on dumb stuff they didn’t need. Like father like child.

It’s no secret that Lucifer does have a bit of a soft spot for Asmo, I mean, who doesn’t love Asmo? But A!MC was a blessing sent right from the Celestial Realm.

They were just... too sweet. Way too sweet. Lucifer was actively getting cavities just being near them.

Anyone who bothered A!MC and M!MC during the first month ended up getting... uh... suspended.

(We can assume the threat of suspension would have extended to those who bothered L!MC but all the lesser demons were already terrified of them.)

Normally when Lucifer called someone into his study it was to lecture them for at least four hours and then send them to their rooms, but he was having quite the difficult time actually being upset with M!MC and A!MC.

A!MC looked close to tears and M!MC just stared right back at Lucifer with little to no fear in their eyes.

“Starting a fight during the first week of school is not how I expected the exchange students to behave.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, and prepared to continue the lecture, when he heard a sniffle. There wasn’t enough Demonus in the entire Devildom...

“I-I’m s—sorry...” A!MC sniffled, quickly wiping at their eyes. “Th-they were being r-really scary and we did-didn’t know what else to do...”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“I threw them out of the window.” M!MC huffed. “They were bein’ a dick.”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“That um...” A!MC mumbled. “That’s not all... I may have... told them to stick their head in a toilet first...”

“You made them stick their head in a toilet,” Lucifer turned to M!MC. “And then you threw them out of a window?”

“Yes.” M!MC and A!MC replied. Lucifer downed the rest of his glass of Demonus and debated whether or not it would be a show of weakness to slam his forehead into the desk in front of the children.

Lucifer looked between the two for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “It’s my job to deal with threats to the exchange students, not yours.” Lucifer stood in front of the two, he rested his hands on their heads and gave them a quick pat, before knocking their heads together. “Next time someone bothers you, tell me. If I hear even a whisper of you two getting into another fight, I’m hanging you from the ceiling. Is that clear?”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other, then back at Lucifer and nodded. “Yes sir!”

“Good.” Lucifer removed his hand from their heads. “Now shoo.”

Flying lessons for the two of them went way quicker than it did for L!MC, mainly because L!MC was a way better teacher.

As much as Lucifer loved his newly found niblings, he couldn’t show it too much. Outward softness was reserved for L!MC and L!MC only. M!MC and A!MC were stuck with silent acts of affection.

Every once and a while a little present or two would end up in M!MC or A!MC’s possession. Some ice cream money for M!MC when they blew their part of the budget on fancy sunglasses, a multiplayer video game that the three half-demons could play together, new shoes when A!MC accidentally ruined their’s...

He’s a good uncle. A scary uncle. But a good uncle. ^_^

(Don’t tell him I said that, I’m still in trouble for advertising Mammon’s escape Go Fund Me and I don’t want to have to write the rest of this HC hanging upside down.)

He’s Not Like the Other Dads, he’s a Cool Dad! (Mammon)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Fear)

He’s a dad?! HE’S TO YOUNG TO BE A DAD! Hang on- he’s over five thousand years old...

Oh would you look at that! His kid pulled out a calculator.

...his annual income? Uh... why do you- HEY! WHAT’S WITH THAT FACE?!

M!MC puffed out their cheek as they continued to add the ever growing list of numbers into the calculator. Mammon was trying to get a peak at what they were calculating. M!MC suddenly looked up and practically lit up the room with their smile. Aw, their fangs were growing in!

They had a devilishly charming smile, just like their pop! A real chip off the old block! It almost brought a tear to Mammon’s eye and he actually felt compelled to give this kid all the money he had on him. Maybe even his Rolex too!

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed,” M!MC said sweetly. “My... dad.”

“Yep! That’s uh... that’s me!” Mammon awkwardly ruffled his kid’s hair, the kid laughed good naturedly.

M!MC’s sweet as honey smile flipped from elated to malicious in a manner of nanoseconds. “You owe over thirteen years of child support. Dad.”

Everyone say thank you to Lucifer and Diavolo for getting M!MC to compromise and not try and sue their father.

If you thought Mammon spoiled L!MC you’ve got another thing coming. Mammon’s wallet never stood a chance against his kid.

Poor Goldie, press F to pay respects.

Mammon also tried to teach A!MC and M!MC to drive, M!MC has no regard for their safety, the safety of others, or the laws of the road, buuuuuuuut they manage to get the car back with no dents and no property damage bills are being delivered to the house sooooo...

A!MC can drive fine... it’s just that they adhere to literally every law known to demonkind, which means neither Mammon or Asmo are allowed to open up the sunroof and do that movie thing where they pop their heads out and yell something. ITS NOT SAFE!

Our beloved dummy also tried to teach his kid how to play poker, with... limited success.

“Aw, come on kiddo.” Mammon smirked, flicking his kid on the nose. “Your poker face is awful, I can also see your cards from here.”

M!MC growled and held their cards closer to their face. “My poker face is fine!” It was in fact, not fine.

Mammon scratched his head and thought for a moment. Was he sure that this kid was his? I mean, they weren’t good at poker, had terrible luck in blackjack and roulette, and could barely understand the rules of craps. Craps! While he was lamenting the loss of possible gambling winnings, an idea hit Mammon at a thousand miles an hour.

“Hey kid, you’re damn good at math like your great and amazin’ father, have you ever thought about learnin’ how to count cards?”

Fancy outfits on, hair done (sorta), car ready, the two were off to the casino after quite the intense training montage. It appeared that casinos in the Devildom allowed children inside... Diavolo should really fix that.

“Okay M!MC, you remember what to do, right?”

“Yes. Remember the signal, and if someone catches on, deny deny deny.”

Mammon gave his kid a slap on the back. “Damn straight! You got this, bud.”

As the night dragged on, M!MC and Mammon had made their weight in money, paper money, they had made a SHIT ton is what I’m saying. Tragically, neither the Avatar of Greed or his child had any sense to leave before their luck crashed like the Stock Market in 1929.

They were both Icarus, and they were playing chicken with the sun... and by 3 am they were also playing chicken with security.

“GO GO GO!” Mammon shouted as he and M!MC sprinted towards the car, the night’s winnings in hand.

“I think I lost a shoe!” M!MC gasped as they scrambled into the car, security on their heels.

“I’ll buy you new shoes JUST PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT!”

Re-enacting every Fast and the Furious movie in twenty minutes was how that lovely night of father/child bonding should have ended... until they got home and realized they were locked out.

“The window to my room!” M!MC whispered, pointing up at their window. “It’s usually unlocked, we can climb up to get to it.”

“Good idea!”

M!MC tucked the bag full of their precious money under their arm and began the climb to their window, their father close behind. They had almost made it, they were so close, M!MC could literally touch the window-

The window swung open and the smiling faces of L!MC and A!MC greeted them.

“Oh my, it looks like we have some delinquents breaking curfew~.” L!MC cooed, resting their head on their hand.

“You shouldn’t be gambling this late! A-and your accessories don’t match!” A!MC huffed.

“Oi! L!MC, A!MC! What are ya doin’ up this late! It’s not good for ya!” Mammon whisper-yelled.

“My sleep schedule should be the least of your concerns right now, right A!MC?” L!MC elbowed A!MC, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep! Those who break curfew are hung from the ceiling by their toes.” A!MC shuddered.

M!MC rolled their eyes and stuck out their hand. “Come on L!MC! Let us in! You should listen to your older cousin!”

Upon hearing M!MC pull the older cousin card L!MC smiled deviously, grabbing both of M!MC’s hands. “Of course, dear cousin.” They leaned in. “Long live the king!”

L!MC shoved M!MC downward, Mammon caught them, but lost his own grip and they both lost hold of the money, which fell out of the bag and onto the ground like snow. Paper snow...

Oh well, at least Mammon and M!MC landed in some of the bushes...

“Ya know,” Mammon said as the money fell around them. “I’ve had dreams where this has happened.”

“Wow,” M!MC smiled. “Me too!”

Yep. This was his kid alright.

Not all his father/kid time revolved around money, it also revolved around both of them trying to avoid horror movie night without making it look like they were chickening out.

“Okay, I’ll fake a medical emergency!”

“Kid, no! They’ll never believe that!”

Since A!MC had their father’s eye for fashion and none of the judgemental comments, the kid became Mammon’s unofficial style coach.

“U-um... I hate to say it but those shoes don’t match with the rest of the outfit, the silhouette is confusing...”

“What’re ya talkin’ about? I look fantastic!”

“Are you blind? You look like a thrift store threw up on you.”

“Who invited you, Asmo?!”

“I’m here to support A!MC! You’re doing great by the way, sweetie!”

He may have cried a little when M!MC was able to fly without help... sniffle... they grow up so fast...

Oh- oh fuck they both crashed into the tree-

Oh My God he Actually Showed Up?! (Levi)

That... that couldn’t be real life! A shut-in’s worst nightmare! More people he needed to talk to!

Considering Mammon and Asmo’s track record with taking care of his things, Levi was incredibly hesitant to invite the two to binge anime with him and L!MC.

It seemed that the two normies inherited their fathers’s level of respect for closed doors. What I’m saying is the two crashed anime night.

“I have never seen such bullshit before.”

M!MC’s hands were stuffed in about five pairs of socks each, effectively turning their hands into useless nubs.

“You be quiet! This is to make sure that you don’t take any of my things and try and sell them on Akuzon!” Levi hissed, turning back to make sure his figurines were safe from the mini Mammon. A!MC was standing awkwardly next to L!MC, who was sitting in Levi’s gaming chair reading manga.

“So what are we going to watch..?” A!MC piped up. “I haven’t really watched much anime but I did watch Digimon...”

“I was more of a Beyblade kid.” M!MC hit their sock-stumps together to make a thumping noise.

Levi looked like he was ready to have a stroke. “L-listen! Those are gateway anime! You two need to watch proper anime! Non-dubbed anime!”

A!MC let out a shriek and stared at their reflection in a very shiny looking gundam figurine. “Have I been wearing off colour lip gloss the entire day?! O-oh no... I’m a mess!”

Levi let out a strangled wail and snatched the gundam out of A!MC’s hands. “D-don’t touch that! It’s worth more than a house!”

“It is?!” M!MC perked up and tried to wrestle their way out of their sock-gloves.

“Don’t make me stick you in a straight jacket...” Levi growled. He turned to L!MC with a pleading look on his face. “Please make them stop...”

L!MC grinned deviously and closed their book. “Of course I’ll help you, if we watch season two of The Promised Neverland.”

Levi shrieked and nearly pulled out his hair then and there. “It’s manga divergent! MANGA DIVERGENT! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY ARCS!”

M!MC and A!MC continued to wreak both purposeful and accidental havoc on Levi’s room, he was just about ready to summon Lotan then and there when L!MC shrugged.

“The ball’s in your court, Levi.” L!MC leaned back in the chair and resumed reading their manga.

Levi’s willpower shattered the moment he heard something fall off one of his cabinets. “WE CAN WATCH WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST MAKE THEM STOOOOOP!”

Quick as a flash, L!MC was out of the chair and had both M!MC and A!MC by the ears.

“HEY!” L!MC growled. “STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS OR SO HELP ME GRANDFATHER YOU TWO WON’T LIVE TO SEE GRADUATION!”

M!MC and A!MC became the most well behaved children in the Devildom after that... and L!MC and Levi got to watch their anime in peace.

Okay, Levi wasn’t heartless, he loved his lame normie niblings. They were just very very loud...

Though, M!MC was very good at finding merch for way lower prices... and A!MC actually really liked some of the anime they watched... Maybe they weren’t so bad.

M!MC’s attempts to budget that financial dumpster fire of an otaku was not going well, at least until M!MC convinced Lucifer to dangle concert tickets in front of Levi like a carrot on a stick until he agreed to do his best to stay within the monthly budget.

Levi had learned his lesson from L!MC’s flying lessons and steered clear of them, but luck was not on his side. The ONE time he willingly stepped outside of the house...

Both M!MC and A!MC crashed right into him.

The Uncle With the Cat You Never See and Aren’t Really Allowed to Pet. (Satan)

Oh fuck him sideways the house was going to be so much louder... Say goodbye to his quiet reading time...

On the bright side, the look of pure disbelief and exhaustion on Lucifer’s face gave Satan the biggest rush of serotonin he’d ever had in his life.

To be honest, he got on well with Asmo, and he... well it’s Mammon.

Could have been worse.

Could have been ANOTHER child of Lucifer.

“So... who do you think did it?” M!MC asked as the opening to the fourth episode of the murder documentary they were watching began. “I think it was the sister.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” Satan asked.

M!MC shrugged. “Chick’s shifty.”

“I um... I think they disappeared on their own accord.” A!MC murmured. “I mean, so far it seemed the two’s home lives sucked...”

“Good theory.” Satan nodded to himself. “But both of you are wrong, it was very clearly the mother and the neighbour.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” L!MC asked, imitating Satan’s voice. Detective Toe Beans was sprawled out on their lap.

Satan glowered at L!MC and leaned over to scratch Bean behind the ears. “The step-mother and neighbour are backing up each other’s alibis and they have a motive, access to a possible murder weapon, and a way of disposing of the corpses.”

L!MC rolled their eyes. “That’s a load of crap. It was just the step-mother. The mother had the motive, she and the father were on the outs, she wanted the father’s inheritance all to herself so she got rid of his kids.”

“How many more episodes of this are there?” M!MC asked. “This seems like a really dragged out way of just saying: I don’t know.”

“Sh! They’re explaining possible corpse disposal methods!” Satan hissed.

The four of them traded theories until the documentary series eventually ended with an unsatisfying ‘we dunno’.

“This is such shit...” M!MC muttered. “How have they managed to fill eight episodes with all these leads and evidence and the case is still unsolved?!”

“It’s because everyone involved was incompetent and stupid.” Satan sighed.

“You know,” L!MC smirked. “With all the true crime stuff the four of us watch, we could create the perfect crime.”

“We really could.” M!MC nodded in agreement.

“Using A!MC’s powers no one would suspect us...” Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh...” A!MC shifted uncomfortably. “On an unrelated note... I’m going to go...”

As A!MC scampered out of the room, L!MC turned to Satan and M!MC.

“There’s always the one weak person in the group who’s not down with murder.”

“A sad truth.”

“Hang on I thought we were talking about theft or something-”

Satan and M!MC are surprising study buddies, hell, they even help Mammon study. Or... it’s more accurate to say that they try to help Mammon study.

A!MC is good company, they’re quiet when they read, unlike most people in the house who felt the need to provide commentary on every single event that occurs in the book.

After proving to be quite useless in L!MC’s flight lessons, he just reminded the two new half demons to wear protective padding.

The Hot Single Dad That’s In Every Romcom That Features a Child (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (excitement)

Oh... his... father... HE WAS A DILF NOW-

He practically vaulted out of his seat to coo and fuss over his new found hellspawn, they were just SO CUTE!

Their wings were just like his! So adorable! Oh and those little horns! They were so cute Asmo just might have combusted then and there.

Of course, he couldn’t combust without finding out which of his flings had made such an adorably shy mini-him.

“Ah! I remember that party!” Asmo squee-ed as he looked at a picture of A!MC’s parent. “They looked so hot in that outfit I swear I was completely-”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer grumbled. “That’s a child in front of you.”

“Oh! Right! Mind if I call your ren, A!MC?” Asmo asked, ruffling their kid’s hair. “I want to see if they remember me fondly!”

As Asmo chattered with A!MC’s parent about just how adorable and perfect their kid turned out, Asmo leaned over to A!MC to ask a question.

“A!MC, I know this is sudden but how do you feel about getting a sib-”

“ASMODEUS IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL FEED YOU TO CERBERUS!”

“Tsk. Rude.”

It’s safe to say Asmo adores his kid. I mean, they’re 50% him, how could he not.

He didn’t exactly have experience with the whole... being a big part of his kids’s life thing. Sure he held the unofficial record for most kids but that was because effective birth control hadn’t been invented at the time when he was allowed to run rampant in the human world, not because he was an A+ dad.

None of that mattered! He was going to be a 10/10 dad to A!MC!

They were so shy... so... mouse-like...

“Um... dad?” A!MC awkwardly twiddled there thumbs as they stood in the doorway to their father’s room. The sweet smell of whatever essential oil was being spread with the diffuser did next to nothing to calm the poor half-demon’s nerves.

Asmo popped his head out of his walk-in closet with a sparkling smile. “Yes, child of mine?”

“I um, just wanted to ask...” A!MC was desperately trying to stave off an oncoming stutter-spiral. “H-h-how- *ahem* how do- ugh...”

A!MC steeled their face and straightened their posture.

“How do I be confident like you?!” They blurted that out a little too loud for comfort, but Asmo’s near-immediate joy quashed any embarrassment A!MC was feeling.

“You want to be like little ol’ me?” Asmo gushed, clearly trying to hide just how flattered he was. “Well, of course you do! Your dad’s got your back. So first what we’re going to do-”

The Avatar of Lust had done the stereotypical early 2000s movie makeover many times before, but never with so much enthusiasm. His kid’s style was fine, it wasn’t a lack of pizazz either, it was the lack of confidence in the pizazz.

“Okay, now stand up straight.”

A!MC straightened their back as much as they could.

“Perfect! Chin up, shoulders back, and there you go!”

A!MC didn’t look too different on account that Asmo felt like their fashion sense was perfect, but dear not-old dad coached MC on a new walk, better posture, and Asmo filled their arms with about seven boxes of self-care supplies.

“What’s all this for?” A!MC asked, shifting the weight of the boxes slightly so they could actually see their dad.

“That, A!MC, is all the stuff you need to have confidence.” Asmo explained. “It’s not required of course, but it sure does help.”

“I’m not sure I follow...”

“Oh sweetie, it’s simple really. When you take care of yourself, you feel better, and when you feel better, you look better, and when you look better and feel better, your confidence skyrockets!” Asmo shifted some of the boxes A!MC was carrying around so they could stand up straighter and not be held down by the weight of the self-care arsenal. “Good posture stops your back from hurting, dressing decently helps you feel better about your appearance, as does taking care of your skin, aaaaaand all this will culminate in you being your best!”

A!MC still looked a bit skeptical, but they nodded anyway.

“Remember MC!” Asmo said as he led MC back to their room to help them sort their new stuff. “Confidence in yourself doesn’t happen overnight, so don’t let Mammon try and sell you a fix-all potion because it’s just boiled Gatorade.”

“O-okay- wait did you just say-”

“Yes, boiled Gatorade.” Asmo shuddered. “Let’s not talk about that.”

Dear uncle Asmo? A financial dumpster fire?! It’s more likely than you’d think.

Sure, Asmo’s got a job and makes his own money, but Geez Louise... one demon does not need that much hand cream! Or that many questionable Akuzon packages that everyone is too afraid to touch...

M!MC had their work cut out for them is what I’m trying to say.

Of course... once M!MC realized what a lost cause getting Asmo to stop with the obsessive bath bomb purchases was and a few too many insults were thrown at M!MC’s dear dad... some of Asmo’s things went uh... “missing”

But would you look at that! No one went over-budget!

Even though their dads have a fierce party related rivalry, A!MC and M!MC get along great. It’s very wholesome.

The Uncle That Helps You Pester Whoever is in Charge of the Food at the Family Reunion About Dessert (Beel)

Yay! More kids :)

Do you think any of them know how to cook? No? Okay... :(

Beel adores his new niblings with all his heart and soul, and Belphie’s out of the attic and is able to meet them with everyone else this time! Yay!

I didn’t mention this in the other parts- but Beel totally gave L!MC piggyback rides whenever they asked, but now that two more kids have arrived... it’s now a fight to be tall.

But yea- kids like uncle Beel. Strong contender for favourite uncle.

“Do you think this is right?” A!MC asked as they fiddled with the settings on the stovetop.

“No clue. Do we put the cheese on while the meat is cooking or do we wait until after?” M!MC asked, they flipped through multiple cheeseburger recipes on their DDD, their frustration growing. “Hang on- do we have a deep fryer?”

A!MC rummaged around the cupboards and shelves for a good fifteen minutes and came back empty handed. “No, but I’ve seen videos of people making fries without a deep fryer, I think we just need to heat up vegetable oil and drop the potatoes in.”

After setting up the make-shift deep fryer, the two cousins carefully dropped the first fry into the oil, then screamed like banshees when some oil splashed close to their hands.

“Did you get burned?!” M!MC asked, A!MC shook their head.

“No, you?”

“Nah...” M!MC eyed the oil warily. “We should do this one at a time to be safe...”

It was an awkward process, grab potato, place potato, scream, make sure no one is burned, repeat. As... decent as the process was, with both of them manning the deep fryer, no one was manning the patties that were now completely charred.

“What’s going on in here? It smells like Solomon’s cooking.” Beel poked his head into the kitchen and saw two very upset children and the world’s messiest kitchen.

“We’re failures. That’s all...” M!MC murmured.

“We wanted to make lunch for all of us and we ruined it...” A!MC added.

Beel’s heart was set to explode then and there- but his stomach growled. “You tried your best, don’t feel too bad. Let’s get cheeseburgers somewhere else with Belphie.”

M!MC and A!MC nodded enthusiastically as the three of them left the destroyed kitchen behind them.

After Beel had to sling a sleeping Belphie over his shoulder, the now four of them were halfway out the door before they heard L!MC scream bloody murder.

“YOU IDIOTS COME BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP RIGHT NOW!”

M!MC and A!MC made eye contact, then sprinted out the door. “CHEESEBURGERS FIRST!”

A!MC and M!MC probably go to all of Beel’s games like the little super fans they are. Beel is very grateful for the support! :D

Flying lessons? Nnnnnot again. He’s here for moral support and moral support only. And to catch the two babs when they inevitably fall.

The Uncle Who Was Like... Really Racist the Last Time You Saw Him But He’s Not Anymore (Belphie)

So he uh... he didn’t try and kill these two. That already gave the two newbies a better first impression than what he gave to L!MC.

The Anti Lucifer league ALSO grew, just by one member though. A!MC was very easily persuaded to snitch on whatever prank the group concocted.

The attic nap club gained two new members, but Belphie still had to deal with wings hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’d usually return the favour with a swat from his tail.

“M!MC I swear I will throw you out of the window if you kick me again.” Belphie murmured, mashing his face into his pillow.

“Mmmph.” M!MC threw a pillow in Belphie’s direction.

“Quit whining, Belphie.” L!MC huffed. “You’re doing better than me.”

A!MC had attached themselves to L!MC like a sloth to a tree and would not let go or stop drooling. Ah schadenfreude, the best feeling in the galaxy...

“Stop with that look.” L!MC hissed, Belphie snickered. “I’m telling you to quit it because you’ll wake up Beel, and Beel is solving your M!MC problem.”

Belphie turned to see Beel practically crush M!MC into a bone breaking hug in his sleep.

“Should we do something about that?” L!MC yawned.

Belphie smirked his little douchebag smirk. “Eh, let them stew for a few more minutes.”

“Help me...” M!MC rasped.

Out of the three, A!MC is probably the best nap buddy, they bring in their own pillows and don’t hog the blankets.

Belphie is once again at the forefront for taking videos of the flying lessons, at least till M!MC accidentally broke Belphie’s DDD.

Just a friendly reminder, the sleepy cow man would kill for these kids.

Look at them funny and no one will find your body.

Okay! That’s part 3 done! I had to cut Belphie’s and Satan’s short because of post limit stuff, but the stuff with the side characters is coming soon! Also, Mammon would like me to inform all those who donated to his Go Fund Me that you will NOT be getting your money back, he has a kid to deck out in full Gucci now, he needs the cash!

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wolvesandpetals · 3 years ago

Text

Postscript. Part 1 of 3.

Loki x Sylvie "Our divorce never went through" Modern AU. Angst with a happy ending, Rated T. For Sylki Week day 7: Free day @sylkiweek

Masterlist of my fics here.

The last thing he wants to do is call up the woman who tore his heart into pieces. But it has to be done. His business partner and his lawyer both insist on it.

[[MORE]]

And he agrees. They are about to land a huge contract that will put them at the top, and he has no intention of letting the woman who left him broken claim any share of his upcoming financial success.

Not that he thinks she would. But he didn't think she'd leave him either, so what does he know?

It's been ten years, but he remembers her number all too well. He wonders briefly if she has changed it by now, but he dials anyway.

Six rings later, she picks up. "Hello?"

It's the familiar voice, warm and irritated, but older, mature, and more jaded. It is clear from her tone that she has forgotten his number, and it stings a bit. "Hi. It's me, Loki."

There's silence, and he has to check to see if she hung up on him. When she recovers, she speaks softly. "Loki? Hi... How are you? I wasn't expecting your call."

"I wasn't expecting to call either", he says matter-of-factly. He called her so many times over the first one year, left her so many messages. But she never replied, and he eventually stopped, vowing to never call her ever again. "But it couldn't be helped. It's an urgent matter."

"Okay?" She asks, confused.

"Do you remember your lovely divorce lawyer?"

Sylvie grimaces. That divorce was a complete mess. She wanted out, Loki didn't, and it dragged on for months. They both had rich parents, but they had married hastily against their wishes, and they were not going to take their parents' help and hear the "I told you so". They were both college students, barely in their 20s, barely married for a few months. They both relied on their limited funds to find lawyers that best represented their interests. Sylvie's was particularly cheap, and particularly inefficient. "Yes, Lacey. What about her?"

"Oh, nothing much." Loki says in a taunting voice. "It's just that, she messed up the paperwork. It turns out our divorce never went through."

She's silent again, and he waits for an outburst, for an accusation that this is his doing, since this is what he wanted. Instead, her reaction is shocked, but controlled, far from the woman who used to fight with him on everything in those last few days. "What? How is that possible?"

"You'll have to ask Lacey that." He replies. "But my lawyer has confirmed that we are indeed still married."

The silence returns, and Loki grimaces. It was better when she had a retort for everything he said. "This time, I do have a competent lawyer, and he will make sure the divorce goes through, I promise you. I just need your signature."

"Okay", she says quietly.

"If you can just send me your address, I will mail the papers over." Then he adds, because his lawyer insists. It's been ten years, surely you're over her, he has said. "Or we can meet and do it in person, make sure this time the process actually goes through properly. Whichever you would prefer." He would prefer never to see her again, but it can't be helped.

"We can meet." Her voice is shaky, something that's rare. "Where are you, these days?"

"I'm still in London." He says casually. "But I'd be happy to drive to wherever you are."

"I'm in London too."

Convenient. At least he won't have to undergo a long trip now.

"Perfect". He says smoothly. "Let's set up a meeting and get this over with then."

---

"I don't believe you." She tells him bluntly.

Tears rolls down his cheek, and he clutches her hands helplessly. "I promise you from my heart, this isn't about your money."

She snatches her hands back from his grasp angrily. "What was I thinking trusting you? Has this whole marriage been a con?"

Something in him breaks, and it shows on his face. "Really? That's what you think of me... after all this time? Sure. Why not? Evil Loki's master plan comes together. Well, you never trusted me, did you? What was the point?"

Sylvie takes a step back. She heard the rumors from a friend who heard it from a friend, and of course she didn't believe them. There is no way Loki married her for her inheritance. But she found her mother's expensive pen hidden in his pocket one night after dinner with her parents, and he didn't have a good explanation for why he had it. He said he didn't recall slipping it in, but there was no way that was true.

The pen isn't everything, but it is the last straw. Combined with all the fights they have been having lately, and all the ways she feels suffocated in the marriage, unable to do the things she wants to do, the pen is what seals the last nail in the coffin.

"Why aren't we seeing this the same way?" She asks desperately.

"Because you can't trust", he says with the saddest smile and the saltiest tears, "and I can't be trusted."

Her hands grip the handle of her suitcase. "Then I guess we're in a pickle."

"Sylvie, wait." He begs, but she's already at the door. "Wait!" He screams, but she's hailed a cab. "Sylvie. Sylvie!" He calls out as her cab disappears around the corner.

And that's it. That's the end of their marriage.

---

They decide to meet in a small cafeteria on their old campus ground on Saturday evening. Neutral location, safe, and with the comfort of familiarity, it is the perfect meeting spot.

Loki gets there early and waits. Every second is tortorous, everything around him bringing back a memory that he wishes he had forgotten. He feels himself tapping his feet restlessly as he orders two coffees. He wonders if her preferences have changed, if he should have waited and asked her first.

"Hi". There's her voice, followed by a burst of blonde. She has cut her hair short, into a tidy little bob, dyed it back to her natural blonde instead of the dark black from her goth days, and her make-up is quieter now, in neutral tones. She would be hard to recognise now, if he hadn't spent countless nights worshipping every inch of that face.

"Hi". He says politely, and hands her a cup. "Two sugars, extra cream, no milk. Is that alright?"

"Yes, perfectly." She says just as politely, with a hint of surprise in her voice. "You remembered."

He tries to brush it off like it's not a big deal. It really isn't. When you spend so much time learning every single thing about a person, all that information doesn't just leave your brain when it's no longer useful. It all stays, and it comes back in unexpected ways, from words of strangers and friends, every little thing triggering a memory he pretends to have forgotten. He shakes his head, willing the inner monologue away for another time. "I remembered the papers too." He swiftly transitions into the matter at hand. He digs into his briefcase, and pulls out a bundle of papers, placing them into the table.

"Right." She says, a little taken aback at how quickly he wants to get this over with. The Loki she remembers from ten years ago wanted to stretch every brief conversation into hours, in the vain hope that she would change her mind. She didn't.

She takes a seat next to him, and glances down at the papers. A question forms in her mind, one she shouldn't be asking, because she's not sure whether she can deal with the response. "Why now? Why the sudden need? Are you getting married?"

He wants to say yes, just to spite her, just to show her he has moved on and found happiness. But he has never been able to lie to her, and he can't start now. "No." He doesn't explain further, has been warned against it by his lawyer.

The man who never shut up is talking so little. It baffles her. She reaches inside her purse to pull out a pen.

Loki shakes his head, his face suddenly contorted in veiled rage. "Don't. I might steal that one too. Use this." He supplies her with a pen he brought himself.

It stings. She didn't expect him to forget about it, but she had hoped nevertheless. She owes him an apology about it, about everything. "I'm sorry I accused you of stealing." She says sincerely. "Dad told me later that you were doing crosswords that night, and you must have mixed up your pens. But at that point, I just really wanted out of the marriage. I just couldn't-"

"Sylvie." He doesn't raise his voice at all, but it's so commanding, that it makes her stop abruptly mid-sentence. "I don't need you to recount the ways I suffocated you. I just need you to sign the papers."

"Right." She says, a little unnerved and suddenly parched. She reaches for her cup, feels her fingers shake, and then-

"Shit!"

There's coffee spilt all over the divorce papers.

"I am so sorry." She says quickly, wiping at the papers with tissues desperately.

He takes in a deep breath to calm himself. He's never going to hear the end of this from his lawyer, is he? "It's okay." He assures her. "I'll get fresh papers ready and get them to you."

"I don't want to inconvenience you again." She says apologetically. "Maybe I can meet you this time? At your place? Or maybe at work?"

"No, that's not necessary." He says in a measured tone. "I will meet you here again when the papers are ready."

"Okay." She says quietly.

He gets up, and she follows. She reaches for his hand, then hesitates when she sees the cold look in his eyes, and just smiles. "It's really good to see you again, Loki."

He nods, doesn't return the compliment, and he leaves, not even bothering to walk her to her car. Why should he, anyway?

#fanfiction #sylki fanfic #sylvie x loki #pro sylki #sylki #loki x sylvie #loki disney+

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thelostthoughtsofthebroken · 3 years ago

Text

Do you know what the worst part of a toxic relationship is?

Toxic relationships have many down falls. We all at one point have stayed in one because at first that was the person we fell in love with. That toxic person was not who we originally met. What made her/him toxic? Nobody ever really knows but in the end we always blame ourselves.

Toxic relationship teach you how to manipulate your partner so that you can avoid the toxicity. Being with a toxic person teaches you how to master compartmentalization. Being with someone toxic you tend to stay broke as well. Toxic relationships teach you so many bad habits and it really takes a toll on your mental health. Doesn’t matter if it’s male or female.

From my POV as a male dating a toxic woman, I definitely learned what to say and how to say it. I definitely learned how to manipulate her just so we could have a good day. We never touched or had sex for the back half of our relationship. Trust me I tried. Not often because the rejection would fuck me up more than the toxicity would. Of course no means no, and I’m cool with that. But instead of just saying no, it was always, “no, don’t even try it or I’ll call the cops and all they will see is a white woman calling on a black guy and see sexual assault” yes it was really that bad and I stayed a lot longer than what I should have.

There was always a financial hardship/burden. She expected me to be the bread winner and provider while she stayed home and did nothing but run my bills up and find reason for me to not have money while she enjoyed the fruits of my labor. If I had a small paycheck then my relationship was in jeopardy. If I had no money then she would make my life hell.

There’s so many things I could go on and on about that are examples of the toxic parts of my ex. But what people fail to realize is, the worst part about a toxic relationship… it’s the healthy relationship after it.

Why? Think about it. Your brain and body is so used to all the time spent with that one toxic person that you’ve become stuck in limbo. The beginning of a healthy relationship after a toxic one so hard the first few months if not he first year. You have to force yourself to be normal. You have to try to not manipulate. You can’t compartmentalize anymore and you have to be open and honest with your partner about hoe you feel. Then there’s the fear of being open and honest and it being used against you in this new relationship.

I’m a year into my marriage and 2&1/2 total for the actual relationship, to this day I still don’t “put the moves on her.” She starts it every time. And it’s a habit that I can’t break because of the fear. Yeah she understands but it’s not fair to her. No matter what she deserves better. I love her to death for staying.

Being in a healthy relationship after leaving a toxic one, it’s really hard to not walk away over the slightest inconvenience. In your mind you think “oh this fight is over dumb shit, he/she is bout to start being toxic over (insert miscellaneous harmless example). I should probably just leave now before it gets worse” when I’m all actuality, she was just voice her/his opinion on something you did that she didn’t like.

I have a homie, he’s dope as hell. But even he is in a healthy relationship trying to recover from the previous toxic one. He flinched every time his girl would reach of something near him or if she’s stretching near him. I’ve seen it. And it’s not because he’s scared, his toxic one used to beat him. Yeah he is a dude who was physically abused by his ex. It happens. It was hard for him to leave because they had a kid together and he came from a broken hole so he tried his damndest to not have his son come from a broken home either.

The healthy relationship after a toxic one is the hardest part about being in a toxic relationship. There’s so many more examples I could give and go on about but I think you guys and gals understand what I’m talking about. Relationship PTSD is a real thing and it needs to be talked about more. You’d be surprised with how many men would come forward if they knew that could be emotionally secure instead of being made fun of or talked about for having valid feelings. Just some food for thought.

#deep thoughts #mens mental health #toxic relationship #toxic love #food for thought #healthy relationships

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #420

lol blaze it (i’m funny i swear)

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? Without a doubt, Bojangle's. Good. Shit. Are there hurricanes where you live? Yeah, they're common here. What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. What song are you listening to right now? "Beast of Gévaudan" by Powerwolf. What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Also my only concert. What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? Alice In Wonderland. Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. Do you like pumpkin pie? Anything pumpkin-flavored is a hell no from me. Do you know anyone named Austin? Knew, rather. Do you know anyone who is having a baby? My friend recently announced she and her husband are having their second child in December. What was the last thing you cried about? Just PTSD. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? I like both, but I prefer chocolate. Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. How many deep dark secrets do you have? Two or so, idk. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings with one of the hottest sauces. Wanted to die. ... Yet I continued to get that one whenever I went for years lmao. Who last called you sexy? I don't know. Would you class yourself as a good role model? In some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Are you scared of the dark? No. Do you have a motto? No. Who did you last see on webcam? The doctor that overlooks my TMS progress. Do you need a haircut? I need a trim for sure. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well, considering 1.) she's way past menopause and especially 2.) she's had a complete hysterectomy, y'know... that's kind of impossible. She also hasn't been with a guy in many years, so she would have to be joking. You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? -___- Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? ALONE. You will NOT see me exercise in front of other people. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? The most involved is DEFINITELY World of Warcraft, and I guess you could consider it the hardest too, given some of the much more difficult things I've done in it. It itself isn't a hard game whatsoever, but you can pursue some really hard achievements. Ever watch the show Supernatural? If you have, then what’s your favorite episode? I used to love it, but just stopped watching eventually. My fave episode... Man, it's been too long to remember many. Probably one of the funnier ones. I remember I specifically liked the bit where they were in your everyday comedy show, as well as the one where I THINK Dean kept trying to prevent Sam from dying. I just remember the "Eye of the Tiger" bit that is pure gold. Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? Oh, no, but that sounds good. Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? Yeah, Pokemon. Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? Besides butter, which I think is pretty standard, no. When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? Uh, I dunno. It depends on the book. I don't really care about page numbers. Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? Yeah. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Girt, probably. Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? I don't think so? When is the last time you cried? I was sobbing earlier today, fun stuff. Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? Most likely not. ESPECIALLY at my age. What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? Oh god. WoW, M:tG, big glasses, anime (does that count? idk really), video games... a lot of stuff, really. Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? Y I K E S, no. That would be SO uncomf. What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? Actually raising it properly, physically and emotionally. Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? No. Would you ever be a surrogate mother? No. What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? It'd be cool to have someone you feel an almost supernatural connection towards, but I'd also feel like I wasn't as "original" as I would be if I was born alone. Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? I mean it wasn't awful at all, but sure, in some ways compared to at least someone. How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? Well today I'm a wreck, so don't tell me. I want to know that I wasn't lied to for 25 years. Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? I'm not entirely clear on this, but I'm 90% sure Dad cheated on Mom with his now-wife. Dad also accused Mom of cheating, but I HIGHLY doubt that's true. Do you like cleaning and organizing? Not really. How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? Fuck having kids. I'd be a terrible mother. So to answer the other question, I'll be pretty, pretty sad if I can't get permission to spread Teddy's ashes at Yellowstone. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? Well, obviously not considering my dream job is a meerkat biologist, and I'm not moving to Africa. Have you ever been robbed? No. Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? Not anymore. Dad was, but he's recovered. Have you ever dumped anyone? Yes. What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Risk his fucking sanity and health to try to hold my fucked up self up. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? Bisexual. I've kinda been questioning pansexual of the late, though. I don't know. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? Not to my memory. Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: Regret. Hopelessness. Loneliness. And the reasons for these feelings? Take a wild fuckin' guess. How do you feel about your life right now? It's an actual dumpster fire. Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? Fuck no. Because there's just not very much TO like about me. Even on my good days, I see flaw after flaw in myself. What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. What subjects do not? Math, economics, politics, history... Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? Definitely fiction. When I read a book, I want an escape from the real world. How has today been for you? BOY HOWDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did you do? Went to TMS therapy. Sat on the Internet. Cried. :^) Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? No. Are there any lava lamps near you? No. I want one, though. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. Are any of your friends a pothead? Yes. What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? Start losing weight again. That'd be pretty goddamn grand. Are you a high maintenance person? Definitely not. The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? I was having a nightmare. Have you ever been heartbroken? For sure. Who did that to you? First Dad, then Jason. Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? Boy, did I. The last type of sandwich you made or ate: A pb&j. The last time you spent most of the day in bed: Literally every day. I do just about everything in bed. Pathetic, I know. The last friend or acquaintance you made: Ummmm idk. The last thing you took pictures of: A hydrangea bush. The last time you were scared: Now. The future is terrifying, my friend. The last thing you looked up online: The definition of a word to ensure I was using it correctly. The last thing you disagreed with: So I've been watching John Wolfe's old stream of him playing Alice: Madness Returns, and he went on a total soapbox about smoking being okay essentially because we're all gonna die eventually from something, and I really disagreed with it. Does your house have a separate laundry room? No, just like a closet. Do your parents still help you financially? I'm still entirely dependent on them. Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? REALLY old, no. Teddy was definitely up there, but beagles have lived longer. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Lysol. Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? Christ, no. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No. Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? Don't think so? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever broken into someone’s house? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yes. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? I dunno. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Funny you ask, because as of today I decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've found it's nothing more than a breeding ground for envy and making me feel like a horribly incompetent adult. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? I had one photography teacher in college that I was NOT a fan of. He was super, super hard on everyone, like to an unnecessary degree. We were students, not pros. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Somehow.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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bookloveravenue · 3 years ago

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Mad World series (book 1): Mad World by Hannah McBride I’m Madison. I spent the last seventeen years in a trailer with my mom as she rolled from one addiction to the next. All I wanted was to survive high school and get out of this place. Finding out I had a long lost twin sister on the other side of the country seemed like something out of a movie. Too bad I didn’t realize it was a horror movie. Now I’m Madelaine. We were only supposed to switch lives for a summer. But then the unthinkable happened and now I have the chance to be my twin for the rest of my life. I get the fancy house, the rich father, and the elite school. But all of those things come with a price I don’t think I can afford. Maybe taking over my dead twin sister’s life isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Mad World is the first book in a new series by Hannah McBride . It contains dark themes (including bullying) that may be triggering for some readers. ******** September 20, 2021 My Review: 5/5 Stars Holy moly was that an intense rollercoaster ride. And that cliffhanger!! Not cool!!!! I need the next book asap. WOW! So after reading the plot about this book, my mind was thinking of a bunch of different possibilities of how this story could go down. And right from the get go I threw away all of them. Every time I thought, oh maybe this will happen—nope! How about—nope! I had to stop guessing because there is no way to truly plot this book out. The twists and turns were phenomenal. So let’s break it down a bit, and give no spoilers, because this is one book you truly don’t want any. The story follows Maddie, a 17 year old who just wants to make it through high school and get out of her crappy situation. Her mother is an addict who can’t keep herself together, so Maddie has had to raise herself and keep a roof over their heads. She works very hard at her jobs and at school in the hopes of getting enough money and scholarships to go to college. She never expects that an end of school year project will lead to such a revelation. Turns out there is someone out there who looks exactly like her. Her twin sister. Floored, she reaches out but after weeks of nothing she gives up. That is, until Madelaine shows up. Madelaine offers Maddie a deal. Switch places with her for the summer and she’ll make sure their mom is back in rehab and she’ll give financial support to Maddie for school. Despite the flaws in the plan Maddie brings up, she ends up taking the deal. Two months of a relaxing summer, Maddie gets ready to switch back but Madelaine never calls her back. Next thing Maddie knows she finds herself put in an awful position. Another deal is made. This time it leave her attending a new school as Madelaine. Madelaine who left out important details. Like the fact that she blew up her social life in the most horrifying of ways, that she has a fiancé who hates her guts, and that her home life way worse than she let on. She’ll have to last the year before she can get her freedom back. Or can she even do that in the type of world she has landed in? The world of the wealthy who crave power and money beyond anything else and will do anything to get it? Absolutely insane. This story definitely kept me on my toes. And while Maddie is dealing with the aftermath of Madelaine’s bad choices there is one person who seems to draw Maddie in. The fiancé: Ryan. Ryan is, well, an alpha a-hole. But of course has that side to him that actually cares. Though his protective instincts are pretty intense, they are at the same time very sweet. It will take a bit for Maddie to see the side of him that proves he can be the good guy. And despite some of jerk things Ryan does, you can’t help but love him. Their romance is both intense and sweet. And complicated. And one of the best parts about Maddie is that she is nothing like her manipulative and awfully mean sister. She’s a genuinely nice person but who has a spine of steel. She doesn’t back down and will have your back. In her own way, she is a type of alpha too. There is something about them that has you rooting for them. And that ending!!!! UGH!! Such a mean cliffhanger. I demand the next book asap because how can I move on when everything went down that way. I need more!! Such an intense ending in many more ways than one. And I have no idea how anyone is going to recover after that. It will take a lot to build back what was destroyed. Ughhhh this is gonna be such a painful wait until the next book. But absolutely brilliant! Check out this amazing book!! I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

#book #books #i love books #my review #book review #mad world #hannah mcbride

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dzaneena · 4 years ago

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2020 Recap, Onwards 2021!

New year always makes us think of how our previous year has been. It’s been a heck of a ride and I think it would be sort of a good way to remind ourselves of the hardships, lessons learned, and growth there’s been in the past year. Here’s how mine turned out. January

Oh, new year, new hope. I thought this would be the year I could make it mine. Get the things I’ve always wanted and spoil myself with every little thing I could not have when I was younger. Job is going well, financially stable and able, everything was fine. This month, I’ve purchased my first Macbook. Yes, apparently I’ve been sucked up into the apple ecosystem and now I want to experience all of it if I can. I did and I’m happy about this. It’s been a dream for someone who always had to save each meal into two so I could have it for my next meal just so I can save money.

February

Oh, the month of love! Yes, yes. I had the chance to travel to Thailand, being the temporary adopted child of a friend’s family. I was thrilled to be there and experience this one-of-a-kind experience. At this time, the virus was not that rampant with everything and there were no restrictions for travel. We thought everything was fine and would be fine.

March

A week after arriving from our trip to Thailand, I got a text from one of my closest friends asking if I would like to spend a weekend in Vietnam with her. Well, of course I did! At this time, finances were a-ok! I could afford it. Plus, the food there was really good at a low price! We didn’t spend much on this trip. We just hung out and took photos here and there. We arrived one day before the city announced General Community Quarantine. We were lucky to arrive at that exact day or we would have been stranded in another country for God knows how long. :( Work was feeling the effects of the pandemic already. 50% of our workmates were laid off. This was a sad, sad time. I couldn’t help but think of all our workmates who had to think of how to survive without work through this pandemic under the quarantine with little to no mobility.

April

Work has been... work. Everyone had to cut their hours and get back to basic pay. I am thankful to still have work but this took a big hit with my finances, of course. I live alone. Recently paying off the house I’ve invested in from last year.

This was also the month my friends practically forced me to play mobile games. Thank goodness they did! This was where all my rage/frustration was spent.

May

Remember that house I invested in? Yeah, that went down the drain, literally lol. I’ve been having problems with leaks and puddles of water coming through the walls of the house which caused a chain of serious issues, health-wise and safety-wise. This was a hazardous house to live in. I guess it’s true what they say about things being “too good to be true”. I’ve tried to settle this with the landlord but I didn’t get not one penny back, not even my deposit. I’ve been paying this for over a year. Much, much regrets. There’s a whole lot that happened during this time. I had to move out and decided to just cut further losses and be done with it. I couldn’t sleep at night for no idea how many weeks/months because of all that money I’ve invested that just vanished. I still feel a weird kind of sadness every time it rains. It always flooded in that house whenever it rained. So you can see how much I relate to that movie “Parasite”.

June

Lucky I have a house to still come home to. This was the previous house I lived in before purchasing that God-forsaken flooded house. I was adjusting and trying to make the best of what I could for the time being. I had a small renovation project as well.

July

Renovation project going well and it was my joy to see how clients were happy about it. This was also the first time I was seeing my mother since January and it was only for a few hours because she had to go back to our hometown within 24 hours or else she would have to be quarantined. Traveling was such a pain during this time. We can’t even go visit our hometown to see our family.

On the bright side, I got to try out a lot of food (all home-cooked, of course). And I got to learn to cook some Korean food as well. I was well into the k-drama world for this whole time.

August

Kittens were growing up well. My cat gave birth in May but a lot of things happened then. I had 3 cats pregnant almost at the same time. Needless to say, we had to castrate our lover boy cat, Brutus. Though he had one last go before we did this and got another round of our cats getting pregnant. I can’t even. 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Had the opportunity to do a product photoshoot for a local ice cream business. It was an amazing experience and it’s cool to think that people actually believe in my photography skills if I had any. LOL.

September

My birth month. I found out that I wasn’t even worth one minute of people’s time to text me. LOL. Well, life goes on. (Insert BTS’ Life Goes On)

On the positive side, my boyfriend’s family decided to do a Korean dinner (Samgyeupsal, Kimchi Jjiggae, Tteokbokki) for my birthday. It was really sweet of them. 😭🥰 I couldn’t spend my birthday with any of my family but they spent it with me. I’m tearing up just writing this down hehehe thankful for this second family.

October

One of my closest friends was getting married. I kid you not, we were waiting for this day to happen ever since college. We travelled to the city where he was getting married with the Friendship Pause crew. (That’s a whole other story LOL) It was nice getting a nice moment down from all the crap we’ve been facing.

I was also able to get back to my hometown for my mother’s birthday. Despite all the travel restrictions, we managed to push through. My eldest brother and I are the only ones not living in our hometown.

November

Ahh, yes. The year is almost over but it still feels like we’re stuck in March. During the span of the year lately, I’ve been actively looking for a second job for extra income. And thankfully, because I’m such a “never give up, never surrender” kind of person, I’ve landed a few jobs project-based for this year. I’ve been a graphic designer, personal assistant, transcriptionist, food photographer, social media manager assistant, etc. I’ve also landed my latest job from a start-up company. It’s amazing how some people can see your grit and potential. I pray we all get to do what we want to do in life so it won’t be such a chore to do. My first (online) job is the very first job that I actually enjoy and everyday, I am really excited to get work done. Hoping that this company recovers from the economic hit of the pandemic fast.

December

Ahh, the last month for this challenging year. What could be in store for us? I think this pandemic has hit us physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically, and financially. It also makes you realize things. I realized that I’m no one’s go-to friend. I’m just that extra friend right there when you need me to be. Not a particular someone you call when something’s up. That’s okay, I guess. We can’t be everybody to...well, everybody! Haha!

I’ve been into tech lately and with all the gaming I was doing, I created a gaming page somewhere along in those past months. Streaming games was one of my stress relievers. Hopefully, if I can have a stable source of income, I’ll be able to do this full-time seeing that traveling is still out of the picture. All in all, this was such a shitty year. There are a lot of in-betweens that happened this year and I had to just highlight some things but basically, it’s just been so hard. I know I’m probably not the only one struggling and trying to survive on a daily basis. I am thankful that I have a job (3 actually, 4 if you count our online business on hiatus) and I am still able to put food into my stomach. But sometimes, we just need a good cry and some ice cream maybe.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! Thank you for actually caring to read my thoughts and random stuff I have in mind. We may not see each other but please know that I really appreciate your effort.

On a lighter note, I hope everyone will be happier this coming 2021. Stay safe!

#2020 2021 HNY happynewyear happynewyear2021

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years ago

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i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years ago

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A Good Night’s Sleep, Pt.3

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After your date with Bucky things heat up quickly.

Warnings/ Content: Aaaaaand here’s the smut you’ve all been waiting for :)

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies, this is the final installment of this little series. Once again tagging @marinaaniseed since the idea for this was hers. I hope you’ve enjoyed this as much as I have.

Here are parts ONE and TWO if you missed them. XOXO - Ash

A Good Night’s Sleep, Part Three

Bucky’s living quarters are larger than you expected. The common area; a spacious living room, dining room, kitchen set up, made you think that the individual rooms would be just that: a room only. What you find behind Bucky’s door is a small apartment of sorts. He has a kitchenette with a table to eat at, a living room, and two doors down a short hallway for a bedroom and bathroom. You follow his example, toeing off your shoes at the entryway, slightly amused by the sight of your ballet flats sitting next to his assortment of combat boots, sneakers, and the dress shoes he takes off. It’s so painfully domestic. The carpeting under your bare feet is thick and soft, you’re officially glad for his no shoes rule. Digging your toes in, you have to resist the temptation to lay down on the plush carpet.

“Right this way.” Bucky motions to the door at the end of the hall. You follow him down to his bedroom where he flicks on a light illuminating the small space in a golden glow. “It’s not much, but it’s mine. I was thankful Steve got me a place here after everything that happened. New York has changed so much since I lived here last, but it’s still home.”

“It’s nice. Mine isn’t much different, honestly.” You look around the bedroom that’s decorated in various shades of blue and white. There’s prints and posters framed on his walls, all depicting some type of space themed art. The bed against the far wall looks huge and soft, covered with a small army of pillows and a fluffy navy blue duvet.

Bucky catches you staring at it and smiles, chagrined. “I might have gone a little overboard with the bed.”

“You don’t say?” you tease.

“I really like having somewhere soft and warm to sleep. It’s nice after so many years of… well, you know. I didn’t realize how crazy it was until I was done. It started out buying an extra pillow so the bed looked balanced. Then I needed a duvet to keep warm and that came with decorative pillows. After that I found those fuzzy pillows over there that looked nice and then the ones with constellations on them. Within two weeks I went from a single pillow and a quilt to that. Once I spent a night in it I was done for, it’s amazing and I regret nothing.”

“It looks amazing.”

“The mattress is unreal too. Tony got these memory foam gel things for all the beds here, it’s like sleeping on a marshmallow. Here, get comfy and I’ll set up the projector.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, the softness of the bed inviting after the long day you’ve had. Bucky moves around setting things up, making small adjustments to the device on his desk before finally going over to turn off the lights. The room is only dark for a moment before the ceiling lights up with a starry sky. “Lay back, you’ll get the most out of it that way.” he instructs as he joins you on the bed.

You follow his lead, stretching out on your back on the bed next to him. Bucky’s hand slips into yours and entwines your fingers, waiting to see if you’ll allow it, and you do. He clicks a small remote in his other hand and the light show starts up. The ceiling is alight with simulated stars, rolling through the different major constellations and stars; each one lighting up before it’s name appears across it for a moment, then moving to the next. It rolls through the seasons as well, showing the different positions and constellations that appear based on the time of year. It’s magical in a way and you get lost in the moment.

It can’t have been more than ten minutes and Bucky has been oddly quiet the entire time. You glance over, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He seems at peace watching the series of stars. You wonder how many times he’s watched the show before and if it always brings him peace.

“About a hundred. And yeah, that’s why I bought it.” Bucky replies, making you realize you had spoken your musings out loud.

“Sorry, that was supposed to be an ‘in my head only’ thought.” you give him a lopsided smile in apology.

“You can ask me things, that’s okay. I’ve always been fascinated by space and being able to see the night sky is something that grounded me. Even when I was the Soldier, I remember feeling better when I could see the night sky. Didn’t understand why at the time, but I did. I like how it’s always the same, no matter where you are, no matter how the world changes below it.”

“With everything that’s changed in your life, I can see how you would like that. Thank you, for showing it to me.”

“This is nice.” Bucky rubs a thumb across the back of your hand, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You can’t help but stare at his lips a moment, you want to feel them on yours, against your skin. It’s still your first date and you resign yourself to maybe getting a quick kiss later if you’re lucky.

Bucky notices your staring almost immediately. It would be so easy and you seem willing. He wonders what’s holding him back, what’s keeping him from taking what you’re freely offering. There’s always something that’s stood in the way of what he wanted. The financial crash of the depression, the war, HYDRA, recovering from seventy years of brainwashing, being an outlaw for a while, going back into Cryo. His life has been an endless stream of if only’s and Bucky has had just about enough of it. He’s adapting to his life in the twenty first century, he has friends, a place to live, a sort of job, and enough money that he doesn’t have to worry about it for at least a hundred years. There’s nothing standing in his way anymore except for himself. Bucky props himself up on his elbow, leaving his hand entwined with yours. He looks from your lips to your eyes, waiting in silent permission. You nod, eyes locked back in on his lips, and he leans forward instantly. He’s done standing in his own way.

Bucky’s lips collide with yours, searing hot and insistent. You had expected him to be more hesitant but he’s pouring himself into the kiss and all you can do is hold on and keep up. He doesn’t let his hands roam, just exploring your mouth with his own while his body blasts heat like a furnace pressed up against the side of yours. You don’t bother reigning yours in, letting your free hand glide along the lines of his back and tangle gently in his hair. He lets out a throaty noise when your nails rake across his scalp and you make a mental note to repeat the motion later to see if elicits the same response.

You can’t tell if the kiss has gone on for hours, days, or minutes. It’s all consuming in the best possible way and when Bucky finally pulls back you’re both breathing hard. “Um,” Bucky begins with a bright blush, tucking his head against the curve of your shoulder, “We need to stop. Or slow down at least.”

You furrow your brow, worried you’ve triggered some unpleasant memory for him by accident. “You okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, more than okay. I just… I don’t know how far we want things to go and I’m about to have a problem if we keep going like that.”

“Oh.” realization dawns, “That’s okay. If you want to stop we can, or we could keep going and then I could help you with that problem when it arises.”

Bucky shudders. He wants you, desperately. It’s liquid fire in his veins and he doesn’t want to keep ignoring his desires. “I think.” he starts and stops. “I think I’d like to keep going. If you want to.”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I do.”

Bucky resists the urge to preen at the endearment and you shift up to claim his lips with yours. Tangling your hand back in his hair you trail kisses down his throat, nipping lightly at the bow of his collarbone before trailing back up to his mouth. Bucky is a mess of over sensitization, your hands in his hair and your lips against his skin while your body curves against his so soft and beautiful. You can guess that it’s been a while for him, he had alluded to you being his first date since before the war during one of your text chats. He’s so responsive to your affection and you want to make it as good as it can be for him. Your favorite part of sex has always been figuring out what makes your partners see stars and Bucky is making it so easy for you.

You run your hand down his chest, feeling the wall of muscles under his soft sweater, letting it rest a moment on his belt buckle before you start tugging the sweater up and off. Bucky helps you get it off him and then tentatively skims his hand along the neckline of your blouse. You pull your top off easily, willing to go tit or tat with him if gets you both naked quicker. You’re both fumbling with pants next, quickly depositing your jeans on the floor with your tops.

Bucky looks pained as he looks down at your body, clad only in your powder blue satin lingerie. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he whispers reverently as he kisses the tops of your breasts where they threaten to spill out of the cups of your bra.

“You’re not too shabby yourself, Barnes.” you tell him affectionately.

A chuckle rumbles in his throat and it reverberates against your skin. You let your hands continue their explorations, not really meaning to rush but you’re dying to get your hands on him. You ghost your palm across the front of his tight boxer briefs, getting the slightest feeling of the hard length straining under the soft fabric. Bucky’s hips stutter against the contact and he gasps hard.

“That okay?” you check in, wanting to ensure you’re not moving too fast.

“More than,” he rasps.

You smile widely, pleased by his response, and let your hand slide over him again.

Bucky thinks you’ll be the death of him as your hand presses against his aching cock, the pressure more intentional this time. He’s afraid he won’t last very long, he hasn’t been with anyone intimately since before the war and getting himself off pales in comparison to being with someone else. He hasn’t even done that all that much since thawing out. Bucky curses himself, he’s going to blow his load like a teenager before he can even ensure you enjoy yourself. For all of his bravado in his teens and twenties, he only had the occasional partner. Sure he could charm girls and guys alike but he was, at heart, a hopeless romantic. He knows what to do, but he feels inexperienced while you seem instinctively able to light his body up like fireworks.

Determined to make this about him, you slowly push against his chest so he’ll lay back and let you steer things for a bit. Bucky complies and you help him shimmy out of his boxer briefs once he’s on his back. From the gentle caresses over his clothes you had guess he would be gorgeous but the sight of him has your mouth watering. You exhale heavily through pursed lips, letting your excitement be known and Bucky has the good graces to look shy at the sound. This is going to be a stretch you feel for days. You slip your bra and panties off quickly, wanting to give him full access to your body like you have his. Bucky swallows thickly, thanking every god above that he met you.

You carefully take him in hand, letting the silky heat of his erection slide easily against your palm. He’s holding himself rigid with tight control and you lean forward to kiss him again, wanting him to relax a little and just let himself enjoy this. Pre-come drips from the blunt head of his cock and his hips jerk involuntarily. “What do you want, sweetheart?” you ask him softly. He gasps but doesn’t respond so you try checking in again. “Do you want to just do this, or I could use my mouth. Or I could get on top of you, if you’re okay with going that far. I need you to tell me though.”

Bucky shakes his head to clear his scattered thoughts. “I don’t think I could handle your mouth right now.” he admits honestly. He practically came at just the thought of your lips wrapped around him. “I want to be inside you. Please.” The request is breathy and desperate, a tone he’s not familiar with coming from his own mouth.

“Okay, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me.” You kiss him lightly in thanks. Despite how responsive his body is you know you need to check in with him frequently to make sure you’re not pushing him too much or triggering something. Slowly you rise up on your knees, your lips exploring his torso to keep the two of you connected while you swing a leg over his hips to straddle his thighs. You arch up, grasping his heavy cock in your hand to get it right where you need it and then you sink down on to him.

Bucky grasps his duvet so hard it creaks, threatening to tear in both his metal and flesh hands. The tight, wet, heat of your body engulfing his straining erection brings pinpricks of tears to the corner of his eyes. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

You let yourself settle on top of him, giving you both a moment to adjust to the sensation. You gently unclasp his fists from the sheets, moving them up to your breasts so he can palm and knead them instead. “You good?” you check in one last time before moving.

“Yeah. So good, doll. You’re fucking perfect.” he grits out.

Spurred on by his enthusiastic consent you start grinding your hips against his, getting the friction going slowly so it doesn’t overwhelm either of you right away. He feels like steel inside of you, so incredibly hard and thick. The way he’s responding so easily adds to the heady mix and you’re reeling that this is real life right now. It’s so much better than you ever could have imagined. Bucky’s hands fly down to your hips as you start sliding up and down on his shaft, letting the drag of his cock hit all the right places for you both. It’s incredible, all consuming, and you can tell by his glassy eyes and the sheen of sweat on his brow that it won’t take long to push him over the edge. You take his right hand into yours, unsure of the limits of dexterity in his left, and move it down to the apex of your thighs. Carefully you guide his fingers between your folds, mere inches from where your bodies are joined.

Bucky’s foggy brain realizes what you’re doing as you rub two of his fingers against the tiny bundle of nerves between your folds. Moving your hand away you let him do the rest, rubbing small circles around the tiny bud as your body shakes in pleasure. This he knows how to do, even as he’s fighting for rational thought at the feel of your body grinding on top of his. Your orgasm builds rapidly, his skilled fingers bringing you quickly to the edge until you’re shuddering and clenching down around him, choked off cries spilling from your lips. Your whole body is shuddering as you come back down from your climax and you increase your pace, helping him chase his own release. It’s barely a minute later that Bucky’s muscles clench up, going perfectly still before his vision whites out and he comes, lost in the hurricane of his own pleasure. Your name is a desperate plea on his lips as he comes, hips locked firmly against yours as they shake.

You’re painstakingly gentle as you bring him down, making sure you don’t move while he comes back into his body bit by bit. You can see the moment his head clears and his eyes open back up, blearily look up at you like you’ve hung the moon. “Hi.” you say quietly, pressing your lips together to hide your satisfied smirk.

“Hi. Wow.” he mumbles, raking a hand through his sex mussed hair.

“You okay if I hop off?”

He nods quickly, “Yeah.”

You slide off and the hot gush between your legs reminds you that in your haste you forgot to use protection. You’re never that careless and are immediately thankful you’re on the pill. “We forgot a condom.” you point out with a cringe. “I’m on the pill though. And I’m clean.” you’re quick to assure him.

“I’m clean too. I’m sorry though. Next time we’ll be more careful.”

“Already planning a next time?” you ask with a smirk. You locate a box of tissues on his nightstand, quickly cleaning your combined releases from your inner thighs.

Bucky somehow manages to blush brighter, even on top of his flushed cheeks. “I hope so. Maybe in the morning?”

“Did you just invite me to say the night?”

“If you want to. You can borrow some of my clothes if you do.”

You look at him, he’s sleepy and sated and the draw of spending a night wrapped up in his arms has you nodding in agreement. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“I have nightmares.” Bucky blurts out, embarrassed but needing to warn you.

“I mumble in my sleep.” you tell him with an indifferent shrug.

“No, really. I might wake you. I really want you here, but if I wake you, just give my shoulder a shake and wake me up.” He’s never been violent waking up, thankfully, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about hurting you, just possibly scaring the shit out of you. He wants to try though, he thinks if anyone will understand and accept him it’ll be you.

“Okay, I will. Let’s get under the covers, you can be the little spoon.”

“Little spoon?”

You chuckle, “I’ll show you.”

The two of you slide under his heavy blankets, the cool sheets soft and slippery against your bare skin. As soon as you’re settled you roll him onto his side facing away from you so you can curl your body around his, an arm thrown over his waist and your head nestled on his shoulder.

“I like being the little spoon.” he tells you in the darkness.

“Good, now try to get some rest.” you press a kiss to his shoulder and lay quietly until you hear his breathing even out and you allow yourself to drift off.

Sunlight is filtering through the curtains of Bucky’s bedroom, tiny dust motes floating in the air like glitter. You let out a sleepy sigh as Bucky shifts to get more comfortable and he feels momentarily guilty that woke you. Since you’re awake, he rolls over so he can face you, not caring about morning breath after the night you shared. “Morning.” his voice low and sleep hoarse.

“Morning.” you echo sleepily, “You slept well?”

Bucky realizes it’s the first nightmare free night he’s had in years. He can’t remember a single dream and feels rested for the first time in forever. “Yeah. First time in a long time.” He wonders if it was the sex or just having you in bed with him or both. It doesn’t really matter, it was a fucking marvel that he finally made it through the night. He also wonders how he can persuade you to stay over more.

“I’m glad. I did too.” You lean into Bucky’s hand as it curls through your hair, your brain slowly waking up and still sleep hazy.

Quiet minutes pass, both of you letting yourselves adjust to being awake slowly.

“Want to go get breakfast? I don’t have stuff here but the team kitchen is fully stocked. Everyone is probably already up and off for the day.” Bucky offers, finally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Sure, want to grab a shower first though?” You’re feeling a little grimy and a shower will help you wake up more too.

Bucky is quick to agree and shows you to his large walk in shower. It’s heaven on your sore muscles and you take turns washing each other, careful not to start up anything you can’t finish right then. Once you’re clean and dressed in a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants and a tshirt, you follow him down the hall to the team kitchen. It’s huge and Bucky wasn’t exaggerating about it being fully stocked. There are dozens of packages of pre-diced vegetables in the fridge along with bags of shredded cheese and several large flats of eggs. You pull out a little of everything, figuring you can whip up omelettes pretty easily while Bucky starts on making a pot of coffee.

“Hey Buck!” you hear a friendly voice call out, “No nightmares last night?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says but his tone is awkward.

“That’s great pal. I’m so happy for you.”

“Good for you, Barnes.” another male voice chimes in. “So what finally worked?”

You hear Bucky let out a squeak, trying to clear his throat. Not willing to leave him to flounder, you take your arm load of ingredients and shut the large fridge doors with a thump, making your presence known.

Two sets of eyes, one blue and one brown, snap over to see you standing in the kitchen in Bucky’s clothes, damp hair falling all around you, and the faintest bruise on your throat where Bucky got a little over eager. You have exactly zero shame about the amazing night you’ve just had and your expression makes that abundantly clear.

Steve’s eyes are saucers and Sam has to cover his laugh with a cough into his hand.

At seeing your unabashedness Bucky feels the tight panic in his chest loosen a little. It’s going to be okay, and he feels more certain of that than he has in a long time. He feels like he can handle just about anything by your side. With a cocky grin he takes a sip of his coffee and shrugs at his friends, “Looks like you were right, Wilson.”

~The End~

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes feels #bucky barnes x reader #nightmares #PTSD #original female character #reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom

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todefine-istolimit · 5 years ago

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It Don’t Run In Our Blood

AU: historical/ royalty?

Ship: Royality, Loceit, Dukexiety

Warnings: major character death (But not really), sympathetic dark sides

Summary: Roman is a prince in love with Patton, a commoner. Remus is a knight who has fallen in love with his trusted servant Virgil. Logan is the royal adviser who's Love was lost at sea (But uh not really think princess bride here). Now the trouble is navigating laws, love, and social conventions, all while carrying around shiny swords! ((Title from Royals by Lorde))

if you prefer to read it on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602698/chapters/51510424

"Your majesty, where have you been?"

Roman froze where he was in the grand entryway. He was dressed in commoner's clothes but of course his adviser recognized him anyway.

"Logan! Hi!"

Logan sighed and pushed up his glasses, "Your majesty the council meeting regarding your marital status was today."

"No kidding? Whoopsie guess we'll just have to postpone, " Roman shrugged.

"No sire, they held the meeting without you."

"They WHAT?!"

"I tried to stop them but they said that if you weren't going to take the affairs of the kingdom seriously then they have no reason to take your concerns seriously."

"So they just talked about this without me?!"

Logan nodded a line of tension appearing between his eyebrows, "Indeed, they took a vote and decided that the best political alliance you could make consider your preference for men would be Prince Remington of Sopor."

"They voted on my marriage without me?!"

"Yes, they your, your majesty. However, maybe you should consider showing up to the meetings about your marriage if you care so much. Instead of being out doing whatever or whomever you seem to think is more important."

Roman gasped, "Dare you speak to your king like that?!"

Logan snorted, "You are not my king yet, and you will not be until your twentieth birthday which, need I remind you, is a mere two months away. But until such a point I, as your , have more political power than you, your majesty so maybe you should consider listening to me so as to not get on the bad side of the council."

"I don't want to marry Prince Remington of Sopor, " Roman said the name with as much derision as he could muster.

"Then simply announce to the council do you intend to marry whatever Prince would you prefer to marry. Unless you've suddenly changed your mind and prefer princesses however I strongly doubt that."

"I don't want to marry a prince or a princess I don't want to marry royalty at all!" Roman shouted, his patience coming to an end.

Logan's eyes were suddenly serious, "Your majesty may I see you in your Chambers? Immediately?"

Roman grudgingly acquiesced he followed Logan into his own Chambers where they could talk more freely.

"Alright, Logan, what is it?"

Logan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "How do you think it's all right to say those things in the front entryway where anyone could hear you?"

"I don't care who hears me I'm the Prince I can say what I wish!"

"Mistaken again Roman, " Logan replaced his glasses and adjusted his tie.

Logan had always called Roman by his actual name when they were alone. They have been friends since childhood, Logan being of noble descent. They had remained friends after Logan had managed to secure himself a role as adviser to the throne.

"What mistake?" Roman demanded, "I can say what I wish!"

"No, you cannot" Logan snapped, "You cannot say what you wish whenever you wish it! You are still subject to the people's demands and you are especially subject to the demands of the council! Right now, the council is demanding that you marry royalty and if you are heard speaking against the council, the people may judge you unfit to rule. Worse they may judge your brother a better successor for the throne. And neither of you want that, do you?"

He was right neither he nor Remus wanted that. Remus was his brother who didn't want the throne he said it seemed like too much work. Roman had promise to change his title to duke so he could just go off and do what he wanted. But still Logan had to understand what he was dealing with.

"Okay but you don't know what's really happening. I am in love with Patton, you know the man who delivers the flowers?"

Logan raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Am I supposed to be surprised? Is this a shocking development for you? Everyone who knows you knows that you two are in love. We know that look you get when he comes into the dining room conveniently during meals to drop of the latest batch of roses."

This was the first Roman had heard about it

"What?! You knew?!"

Logan huffed, "Yes everyone knows about your little affair with the flower boy."

"Who all knows about this?!" Roman demanded already frightened for his own fate. While he wished he could be free to tell the world about his love he knew that it was not the time yet there were issues to work out.

“Remus knows, Virgil knows, most of your nights know. We've managed to keep it a secret from the council no help from you on that matter, by the way, because you two are less than subtle.”

“Remus knows about me and Patton?” Roman collapsed onto the bed trying to ground himself a little. He had been so certain that they were being careful.

Logan’s patience was clearly waning as he clicked his tongue, “Yes that is what I have been saying for the past two minutes. Are you misunderstanding something?”

“Well… well what can I do now? I love Pat and I'm not willing to marry another man.”

“I've already considered this. Knowing how invested in this relationship you are I have begun attempting to come up with a few contingency plans. I have it on good authority that Prince Remington is actually in a similar situation to yourself rumor has it he is falling in love with a healer in his palace who he grew up with.”

“How does this help me?” Roman asked, not seeing the connection.

Logan got a small smile on his face. Roman called it his evil plan face.

“You'll have plenty of time to talk to Prince Remington privately upon our arrival to his kingdom in two weeks. At that time, you may tell him your situation, and suggest that you both have a marriage of convenience,and allow each other to keep partners outside of the marriage nobody need know it's a very common practice in royal marriages.”

Roman had been smiling and nodding along until the last one, he frowned and said, “No it's not. My father and mother were very much in love and faithful.” He was certain of this.

“No Roman, they were not, but they very much loved you so they made sure to keep it- how is it said? On the down low. They liked each other well enough to copulate twice so that they could have a few heirs to the throne and then they were done. They never did it again.” Roman didn’t appreciate the accusation or reminder that his parents did that.

“Oh yeah?” Roman challenged, “and how do you know all this?”

“Your parents bequeathed their diaries unto you and requested that I read through them first and take out any passages that might contain explicit material. Which by the way I’m nearly finished with.”

"Explicit Material?!" Roman gasped. Again, a thought he didn’t need!

“Roman, are you all right?” Logan asked.

“No I'm not alright! I just found out that my parents were never in love and you're suggesting that I don't marry my love! Why would I be okay?!”

Logan sighed sympathetically, “You have a week to decide talk to Patton before we have to leave for Sopor. See what he thinks. Maybe he will find this an agreeable arrangement. You’ll still take care of him financially, he could even live in the palace, you could just call him your dear companion. It happens all the time.”

“Wait that's what the history books mean when they say ‘dear companion’???”

“Indeed,” Logan said in an attempt to assure him, “it's very common for heirs in noble and royal families to marry for money, convenience, or power, and to Love for Love.”

Roman was overwhelmed he needed Logan to not be saying things for a minute, “Just stop Logan not as if you know anything about love. Stop telling me what to do,” He snapped without thinking.

Logan stiffened and his expression turned icy, “I do know about love.” He spoke low a quiet, a warning in his voice. Oh shit.

“Logan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.”

Logan had received word a few months ago that a young sailor man he had fallen in love with was presumed dead. His ship was overtaken by Pirates and nobody had seen or heard from him since.

Logan had spent a week in solitude where he refused most meals and all visitors. People had heard him sobbing endlessly in his room for days. Then on the eighth day he rose from his room looking pristinely put together. He gave no sign of having ever been in mourning. In fact this was the first they had spoken of it since Logan returned. Roman didn’t think Logan had really recovered yet. He was colder and more serious than ever before, but there was something in his eyes that seemed broken if you looked too long.

“You do know I'm trying to protect you, don't you?” Logan cleared his throat, “If word gets out that you are trying to marry a commoner the other commoners will be jealous of Patton or of the riches he would gain. Patton would be in danger of being attacked in the street. Not to mention, if Patton is getting in the way of a political union there's no telling who the council might send to remove him. This is to protect Patton. You don't have to go through what I did. Just consider Patton’s safety please, I implore you, consider his safety.”

Roman hadn't considered that. He had considered Patton’s safety, of course, he just hadn't considered that it would be put at risk by refusing to marry Prince Remington. He never considered that the council would do something like send an assassin after Patton.

“All right would you cover for me if I go see him for a while? I need to talk to him about this I just- I can't think clearly and I need to talk to him about this,” Roman shook his head trying to clear some of the shock away.

“I'll accompany you and bring Remus. We will say it's a hunting trip to celebrate your upcoming engagement. That should give you a few days.”

“That will work thank you.”

Logan nodded and made his way to the door he rested a hand on the doorknob before stopping, “Roman... I'm sorry, I wish things were different for you. I wish they were different for all of us,” He sighed and left.

Roman had a lot of thinking to do but even more so he had a lot of Explaining to do to Patton how do you ask your boyfriend (who you were just about to ask to marry you) if you can marry Someone Else and if he'll be the other man on a permanent basis.

There isn't a good way to do it, that's just the honest truth. Roman sat there, on his bed, for the next few hours, denying the maids entry except to hand him lunch. He merely sat there unwilling to change into his royal clothes, and for a time just breathed in the scent of Patton that lingered on him from their earlier embrace and he hoped, perhaps in vain, that it would all turn out alright.

Tag list:

@littleanxiousbby @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @melodiread @itismakyo @dabookwormcat @lo-ceit @gayformlessblob and i think that was everyone who was interest? Sorry if i put you on here and you didn’t actually wanna be tagged!

#loceit #royality #dukexiety #sander sides #sympathetic dark sides #my writing

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yuzusorbet · 5 years ago

Photo

Sendai Holiday 2019, Part 5: An Unexpected Journey

A fan told me about the special edition Yuzuru Hanyu subway card that came with 3 postcards and I quickly went to the Sendai subway station office to buy it. The beautiful subway card was a one-day pass, unlimited rides. Many fans used it to to get to International Centre Station where Yuzu’s Olympic Monuments are, and also to Izumi Chuo Station which is near Ice Rink Sendai, but I had already gone to these places before I knew about this special pass. Well, I could always just keep it without using it but, somehow, I felt I had to make good use of this pass that has Yuzu’s SEIMEI silhouette on it.

There is a 3.11 Memorial Community Centre located in Arai Station 荒井 at the end of the Tozai subway line 東西線. The name popped up when I was searching online about Sendai travel. I have never heard of this place before but since I could use my Yuzu subway pass and learn more about 3.11, I thought it was perfect. Arai Station is just 6 stops away from Sendai Station. (3.11 refers to the Great East Japan earthquake and tsunami, also known as the Tohoku earthquake, of 11 March 2011.)

I arrived at Arai Station and there was a big sign pointing to the 3.11 centre. It was within the station itself, at one end.

‘This post-earthquake restoration memorial facility opened in February 2016. As a gateway to the eastern coastal area, which suffered tremendous damage from the tsunami, this memorial community center conveys the history of the region, the memory of the disaster, and wisdom and lessons derived from it to the world and to future generations.’ (credit)

On the first floor, there is a big 3D map that shows the extent of the coastal area ravaged by the tsunami.

On the 2nd floor, there are photos of the affected areas, in a timeline from the Showa period til present day, showing the devastation of March 2011 and restoration efforts.

The captions are all in Japanese but there are booklets that give the translation in English, Chinese, Korean and Thai. You can hold the booklet and read the translated caption for each picture as you move along the wall.

There was one photo that struck me in particular. People on the rooftop of Arahama Elementary School, with the black waters of the tsunami below. They were students, staff and nearby residents who had fled there. All were rescued by helicopter later. Many thoughts ran through my mind. How terrifying it must have been to watch the sea swallow up all that you live on. And what about their family members who were not with them...... how many families could be reunited? The young elementary school students, did they recover from the trauma? How are they doing now.....

One of the staff told me that this school has been preserved as a museum and memorial of the disaster. It has been open to public since April 2017. He suggested that I take the short bus ride to the school and go into the building to have a look. Oh my...... I was not prepared for that at all. Do I really want to see the actual traces of devastation and tragedy?? It is too sad..... After a bit of hesitation, I went outside the station and boarded the bus that goes to the school near the coast. It was a regular bus that has a few stops along way and the ride cost 240 yen. Part of the route was rather scenic with rice paddy fields.

The last stop was at the school. The building looked like a normal school from afar. A banner along the 3rd floor says ありがとう荒浜小学校 (Thank you, Arahama Elementary School). It was put up by students in 2016.

There is some information in English on the board at the front.

The white sign at the 2nd floor shows the height of the tsunami that day. The first level was totally submerged. (pic below)

On the 1st and 2nd floors, we can see the damage, and pictures show the aftermath, before the debris was cleared. All sorts of things were pushed into the classrooms by the force of the tsunami. A teacher’s car which was parked outside was found crushed with the debris in one of the rooms.

On the 4th floor is a room with a timeline of events on that day, from the earthquake to the tsunami and after.

The clock that was in the 1st floor gymnasium stopped at the time that the tsunami struck.

There was also a video in the room, with the principal and other staff of the school commenting on that day, with English subtitles.....

“I grabbed the key for the rooftop and told everyone in all of the rooms to leave everything and go up to the rooftop right away.”

“It turned into a mountain, something like black mountain, it was sea water, it came and..... crash, it kept coming forward.”

“There was nothing left of the Arahama area. It was a view of the bottom of the sea and all we could do was watch from the rooftop as the town was swept away.”

I cried as I watched the video. My heart that was getting heavier and heavier could not hold it back anymore.

From the 4th floor, I went up to the rooftop. So this was where the survivors were standing. I could see the sea on one side....

and all around, rebuilding is going on. New roads are being made, with bulldozers and excavators here and there. It was too painful to think that this was actually a town filled with people and homes.

I remember the wind was very strong on the rooftop and the sky was overcast, so it was very cold even though it was in the warm month of May. After taking some photos, I made my way back down.

The 3rd floor is closed but there is a very touching piece of writing by a teacher of the school, with English translation included. Please read it from my photo below (4th pic).

The teacher’s reflections were full of sadness but also very uplifting. “Kindness and gratitude in these hard times.” So touching. I hope to remember these words.

In front of the building is a ‘Closing of School’ monument, with the words of the school song on the transparent blue panel. The school has been here a long time. It was established in 1873 (Meiji year 6) and built on the current site in 1912 (Taisho year 1).

As I was leaving, groups of students came in large buses. Each group had a guide talking to them outside first, then taking them around. The school continues its purpose of educating and building up the nation.

Goodbye and thank you, Arahama Elementary School. I said a silent prayer as I left on the bus. The serenity of the rice fields comforted my heart.

For more info and photos of the school, here is a news article: The school that saved 320 people

Note: I spent about an hour here but one hour is not enough to finish looking at everything in the school. Two hours would be good. There are guide booklets in a few languages near the entrance of the school. Check also the bus schedule. It only runs once an hour.

Much thanks to the staff at 3.11 Memorial Community Centre for their help.

Back home, I searched and read up more....

In addition to physical reconstruction, emotional and social support remain an important focus for rebuilding. “Up in Tohoku, a common term widely used to describe the emotional difficulty in what recovery really means after the disaster is kokoro no byōki (illness of the heart). From continuing financial worries, divorces, depression, disconnected families to elderly survivors losing connection or meaning, there are ongoing situations of survivors falling through the cracks. [....] Volunteers provide an invaluable message of encouragement, crucial to the long-term emotional recovery of survivors. [...] Their return and interest in the community reinforces the message that others believe the rebuilding is worthwhile — and that they are worthwhile.” (credit: Japan Times, link below)

I immediately thought of Yuzu. Besides donating all his Olympic prize money for rebuilding, he goes back again and again to visit communities in the affected areas and to do ice shows for them. His visits tell the survivors that they are worthwhile, that they are not forgotten. How many lives has he saved in this way! God bless all volunteers for their kindness and generosity.

Thanks to Yuzu’s subway pass..... It led me on an unexpected journey to learn more about something very close to his heart and I am inspired again to do more. Below are some useful sites that I found:

https://www.japantimes.co.jp/community/2019/03/10/issues/new-approach-volunteering-tohoku/#.XUVS5lCLmCR

https://www.japansociety.org/page/earthquake

https://www.tohoku.ac.jp/en/news/campus_community/news20181128scrum.html

Even though I only took 2 rides with the subway pass (going to Arai Station and back), I think I have made very good use of it.

(All photos are taken by me; please do not use or re-post my photos without asking me first. Thanks.)

#arahama elementary school #3.11 #sendai holiday #Yuzuru Hanyu #sendai

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unfolded73 · 5 years ago

Text

How Do We Get Back (1/16) - schitt’s creek ff

(AO3 link)

Summary: In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

Notes: I'm really excited to start posting this fic which has been obsessing me for a few weeks. Thanks to @j-philly-b for being my New York-native nit-picker - pizza fight forever. See notes at the end for warnings about plot elements in this fic ... or don't if you prefer not to know.

Rating will be explicit in later chapters. This chapter 3.5k words.

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Soft music played from somewhere, infused into the space like just the right amount of an expensive perfume: not enough to draw attention to itself, but enough to help round out the aesthetic with taste and class. The white walls positively glowed under warm, carefully selected lighting, offering a contrast to the pieces on offer to buyers. Minimalist and spare, every item was lovingly placed by the owner in exactly the perfect spot to highlight its assets and mask its flaws. It was why buyers went out of their way to come here, or so the proprietor had been told in more prosperous days.

“Tell me about this sculpture,” said a woman in a severe suit and a severe haircut and impossibly high heels.

David Rose, the gallerist she was addressing, put his hands together in an obsequious manner and walked over to stand at her side. Her command had come without the courtesy of turning and looking at him; rather with the expectation that she would get a prompt response — she was the kind of woman who always got a prompt response.

“This is another exciting piece by Devonaé Streeter. She works out of New York now, but after a few months in Prague—”

“I don’t want to hear about the artist. Tell me about the work.”

David squinted an eye at the bronze sculpture, standing its solitary vigil on a white pedestal. He imagined the… woman? it depicted was looking back at him, or would have been if she had more than empty eye sockets to look at him with. He launched into his patter.

“Devonaé’s bronze works often challenge the viewer to look past the grotesque features of the art to see the grotesque features in themselves. This particular figure is an allegory for the way in which we fail to recognize each other’s pain, and I think—”

The woman turned on her heel and walked away, dismissing him and the statue with one quick wave of her hand. She turned her attention to the art on the walls, scanning over the canvasses quickly. David could almost see the calculations going on behind her eyes, like a scrolling ticker on a cable business news show. She wasn’t here to appreciate the art, she was here to find something to invest in. Most of them were, especially people like her.

“Tell me about that one,” she said, pointing to the largest canvas.

David winced. He would have taken the painting in question down a while ago, or perhaps never would have hung it in the first place, if he weren’t hurting a little bit for artists these days. And of course if he hadn’t signed a contract. He’d met Carmen at a party, and okay yes, she’d seemed a little crazy at the time but he’d assumed that was because of all the drugs they were taking. He’d agreed to display her art in his gallery. Now, months later, not a single one of the paintings had ever sold.

Clearing his throat, David said, “Carmen Herrera. She has a… unique vision, as you can see from this piece.” He focused on the track lighting above the painting as he talked; he’d never been able to look at this piece without developing an anxious flutter in his stomach. “It is intended to shock, of course. The worshippers…” He let his eyes glance over the blood-soaked imagery, wondering why he was bothering. This woman was never going to buy one of Carmen’s paintings. “The worshippers hurt themselves and each other at the behest of their goddess.” He gestured vaguely upward.

“Mictēcacihuātl,” the woman murmured.

“Umm… bless you?”

“The Aztec goddess of death,” she explained, still staring at the painting.

“Oh, uhh, yes exactly,” he vamped. “Personally, I’ve always thought the worshippers represent the American electorate, voting against their own self interest because of the lies politicians tell them.” He didn’t really think that. He wasn’t sure Carmen could have said, if pressed, who the President of the United States even was. But he gave potential buyers this line, figuring they might recoil a little less from the painting if they thought it was allegorical.

The sharp-suited woman couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of it. “No, I don’t think that’s what it’s about,” she said. Then she turned to him. “I’ll take it.”

David gaped at her for a second before he recovered enough to respond. “Yes, of course.”

After several minutes of dealing with the payment and shipping, tasks that always made David’s palms sweat with anxiety that he’d screw up some detail of the transaction, the woman was gone and the gallery was quiet as a tomb — its usual state. David sighed and looked up at Carmen’s terrifying painting. “See you never, you creepy fucker.”

He walked back into his office and pulled out his phone. Opening Instagram, David scrolled aimlessly through posts by celebrities and influencers, many of whom he had met and a few of whom he had fucked. When no images of his sister appeared after a few minutes of scrolling, he pulled up her profile and checked her last post — two days ago, which was very unlike Alexis. David’s heart started to hammer in his chest with familiar worry for his sister. He checked the time and counted forward. It would be close to midnight in Italy, probably as good a time as any to catch her on her phone.

Hey r u ok? he texted, and then spent a full minute watching for any sign of a return message before he clicked off the screen and tossed the phone onto his desk with a huff. Then when that dramatic gesture didn’t give him a result, he picked his phone up again, just in time for it to vibrate with an incoming call. He almost dropped it.

Seeing who was calling, David almost let it go unanswered, but at the last second he tapped the screen. “Hi, Dad.”

“David, how are you?” His father’s voice was always confident and booming, as if he could summon happiness if he just projected from his diaphragm. David held the phone away from his ear with a wince, and then put it on speaker before setting it down.

“Fine. Why are you calling me?”

“Do I need a reason to call my only son?”

David rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

There was a pause. “Well, actually, I just heard that Eli was released from prison.”

Pulling a nail file out of his desk drawer, David snorted. “What, and you’re going to rehire him as your business manager?”

“Well, of course not, David.”

“Good.”

“I’m never going to speak to him again.”

“Good.”

“I mean, can you imagine how our lives might have turned out if he’d managed to get on that plane to the Cayman Islands before the police caught him?”

“Yes, I can, because you’ve mentioned it an average of once a month for the last three years,” David said, taking a few desultory swipes across the end of the nail on his middle finger.

“I mean, it was bad enough with all the tax penalties we had to pay. If it weren’t for Eli, we’d still have the beach house!”

“Uh huh.” If David had heard all of this before once, he’d heard it a hundred times. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s on location with Sharknado 5. And you know, the prison that jackass was in was pretty swanky.”

“Then maybe Eli will actually be more miserable now that he’s been released. When does Mom get back?”

“Two more weeks. She’s got her phone in Bulgaria; you can call her.”

David didn’t want to call her. He wanted his father to call her so that she could talk him off of this angry ledge before he had another scare with his heart.

“Just… don’t worry about Eli, okay?” David set the nail file down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s not a part of your life anymore.”

“Damn straight he’s not.”

“Weren’t you telling me something about a new business venture at Christmas? Some kind of app?” David didn’t want to talk about this, or about anything really, but he figured he could at least try to pull his father out of this emotional tailspin about the former business manager who almost made off with the Rose family fortune.

“Yes, well, the spouting video market is quite crowded now, of course, but we’re making some in-roads. Slow and steady wins the race, that’s what I always say.”

“It’s streaming video. And that’s what you used to say about your rivalry with Blockbuster,” David snarked, his moment of charitability toward his father difficult to keep front of mind when he was being so irritating.

“And Blockbuster went out of business.”

“So did you!”

“It was a strategic restructuring, David. A shift into other markets. Like streaming video. Sure, the money isn’t flowing as freely as it did in the Rose Video heyday, but we’re doing fine.”

“Okay.” He went back to filing his nails.

“Are you still seeing… what was her name?” Johnny asked.

Trying to remember who his dad was even talking about, David squinted. “Who?”

“You know, the girl who used to eat garbage as performance art?”

David huffed. “Eliose didn’t eat garbage, she covered herself in… you know what, it doesn’t matter. We haven’t seen each other in months.”

“Oh. Is there anyone special in your life right now?”

An image of Brenton flashed in his mind. He was probably back in David’s apartment as they spoke, making the place reek of bong water and eating all of David’s food. He sighed. “No, no one special.”

“Well, don’t give up, son,” Johnny said. “How’s the gallery?”

“I just sold a painting.”

“That’s great!” his father boomed. “Good for you!”

“Okay, selling paintings is my job, you don’t have to praise me quite so effusively for doing my job.”

“No, of course I don’t need to. But I’m proud of you, son. Especially now that…” There was a moment of dead air.

“You still there?” David asked.

“Oh! Yes, I’m still here.”

“I thought the call had dropped. Now that what?”

An uncomfortable chuckle came out of the phone speaker. “You know, I forgot what I was saying.”

“Uhhh… okay.” David rolled his eyes again. “Anyway, the art business isn’t booming like it used to be, but today was good.”

“You know what? I just remembered I need to make another call,” his father said. “Sorry, David.”

“Whatever. You called me.”

“Talk to you soon, son.”

“Mm-hmm. Bye.” David tapped the screen and ended the call. He noticed the time and sighed, glancing out of his office door at the empty gallery. He might as well lock up and go back to his apartment. He moved quietly around the space, flipping off all of the lights and turning off the music that he played from a spare iPad that he’d gotten in a gift bag when he was Hayden Panettiere’s date to the 2012 Teen Choice Awards. Once he had his coat and messenger bag and had the security gate pulled down and locked, David pocketed his keys and stepped out onto the busy SoHo sidewalk. It had been misting rain for hours, the January day not cold enough to produce snow, but the temperature was now dropping below freezing and making the sidewalks treacherous.

The stationary store next door to his gallery was still open and doing a brisk business, and he was tempted to go in and look at the journals, but he resisted the impulse. Even though he used them sporadically, he’d already bought more empty journals than he could fill in a lifetime. The bar at the end of the block was also starting to fill up, and while he’d been known to get a drink there after closing the gallery, he wasn’t in the mood to be around people at the moment. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he summoned an Uber to ferry him the two miles to his apartment in Chelsea.

Braulio is 4 minutes away, his phone told him. While he waited, he texted Alexis again. Can you respond pls???

“Want me to talk or not talk?” his Uber driver asked as soon as David was settled into the back seat of the black Nissan.

“Don’t talk, please,” he responded. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no worries, man. That’s why I ask.” Braulio turned up his music a couple of clicks, the kind of unobjectionable, nondescript soundscape that was like something you’d hear in a modern hotel lobby. The driver had probably read on a website that it was the key to increasing tips or 5-star ratings.

David’s block on West 21st Street was packed with four and five-story apartment buildings, the short trees at regular intervals along the sidewalk offering a tiny break from the monotony of sandstone and concrete — although not this time of year, when they stuck up like twigs haphazardly shoved into the dirt by a giant, bored child. Shivering in his too-thin but fashionable jacket, he clicked on a rating for his Uber driver and shoved his phone in his pocket before making his way over to the short flight of stairs that led up to his building.

“Spare change,” a familiar voice called from a heap of blankets at the base of the building.

David opened his messenger bag and fished for the coins at the bottom. “It’s getting cold; you need to go to a shelter.”

“Not that cold,” the woman countered, holding her dingy Starbucks cup aloft. He dropped the coins in.

“The temperature’s dropping though.”

“Cold enough to ice skate.”

He took the non-sequitur in stride. “Well, not quite, but almost.”

“Your skates have to stay on the right line, ya know. You slip off and then suddenly—” She hit the cup, making the coins rattle. “Different universe.”

“Uh-huh. Will you go to a shelter, please? Don’t stay out here all night.” He re-clipped his bag and turned to walk away.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Mister Rose.”

“Well, I live here.”

“Not supposed to. Supposed to live in a motel with your family.”

David stopped and turned around. “What? Ew.”

“Rosebud,” she murmured.

“Oh, are we in Citizen Kane now?”

She hunkered down in her blankets, putting an end to what could only loosely be termed a conversation. Sighing, David left the homeless woman behind and entered the building’s vestibule. He then unlocked the inner door, shoving his way in with a grunt when the door inevitably stuck a little bit.

He mounted the one flight of stairs to his apartment. At the height of his family’s wealth, when David had been in his late twenties, he’d lived in a very posh apartment on the upper east side, but after the incident with his father’s business manager, he’d downgraded and moved to Chelsea. It was still a very nice, modern apartment, but it wasn’t what he’d once had.

The scent of sandlewood incense greeted him as he unlocked his door, and he wrinkled his nose and recoiled a little. Dropping his bag, he made his way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, hoping to find his leftovers from last night’s take-out. Of course they were gone. He slammed the refrigerator and swung around, ready to have it out with Brenton once and for all.

The man in question chose that moment to stride into the kitchen, shirtless, a pair of athletic shorts slung low on his waist. “Hey,” Brenton said. “Glad you’re here, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we sure do.” David tried not to let his eyes drift down to the v-shaped crease of Brenton’s hips and failed.

“I’m gonna go stay with my boyfriend in LA for a while, so…” He shrugged. “Thanks for everything.”

“I’m sorry, your what? You never mentioned a boyfriend before,” David said, grimacing. He’d met Brenton last month at a cocktail party he’d thrown at the gallery. Young and blond and in his mid-twenties, Brenton was the son of a well-known hedge fund manager, and he seemed to be a guy whose sole occupation was drifting from one party to another, looking for a good time. He and David had hooked up several times in recent weeks, but their conversations had been limited to fashion and art world trends and what kind of sex they were into.

“Because we weren’t like that, you and me,” Brenton said with a disarming smile. “This was never about, you know, unpacking our pasts. And we never said we were exclusive.”

“I know that,” David snapped. “I didn’t say I expected exclusivity. Still, you might have mentioned—”

“He and I were figuring some things out, you know? But he’s gone out there for pilot season and the auditions are stressful, so I think I really just need to be there for him.”

“Oh, he’s an actor,” David said. “How fun for you.”

There wasn’t really much more to say, so after a few more empty platitudes from Brenton, he disappeared into David’s bedroom to get dressed and to gather whatever belongings he’d brought over in the course of their month-long affair. David sat at the kitchen island and flipped through an issue of Vogue without seeing the pages. He probed a little bit at his feelings, pressing against them like you’d touch a bruise, trying to determine how painful it was. He didn’t really care that much about Brenton — he was shallow and mostly unkind. David didn’t think he’d miss him. What did hurt was once again being shoved aside as soon as something better came along, after a lifetime of being shoved aside as soon as something better came along.

Once Brenton was gone, David tried cracking open a window to air out the apartment, but quickly closed it when it let in a biting cold wind. He was starting to get a headache, and he reached up to massage the back of his neck, trying to stave it off. Pulling out his phone, he checked Alexis’ instagram again, and then opened his messaging app.

[David] 911. Call me.

Surprisingly, his phone rang only a few seconds later.

“David, what? What’s the emergency?” Alexis sounded manic and not a little annoyed.

“I’ve been texting you all evening!” he almost shouted. “I’m sorry for worrying that you were dead.”

“I’m fine, why would I be dead?”

“Your social’s been dark for days.”

“Ugh. I’ve just been busy, David, I don’t have to post something every day as proof of life, do I?”

“You have to at least respond to my texts, Alexis.”

“Look, the club we were in might’ve gotten raided by police earlier, a little bit, but it’s fine because we found a back way out and we ran. It’s no big deal.”

“It kind of sounds like a big deal,” David said, rubbing his neck again. The headache was getting worse; the muscles running down from his skull were like iron rods. “Why were the police raiding the club?”

“How should I know what the Monaco police were doing?” she asked.

“Monaco? I thought you were in Italy.”

Alexis laughed. “Monaco is in Italy, David.”

“Monaco is a separate country, Alexis.”

“No, it’s… is it? Well anyway, Tiff and Lily and I are back at the hotel. I might come home, though. Stavros called and he wants to see me.”

David moaned unhappily. “Alexis, no, don’t go see Stavros. You’ll end up getting back together with him and that would be a terrible life choice.”

“Speaking of terrible life choices, is that Brett guy still crashing at your place?”

“It’s Brenton, and we were seeing each other, he wasn’t just ‘crashing’ here.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And it’s over anyway.”

“Oh.” Her voice softened for the first time. “I’m sorry, David.”

He waved his hand, not that she could see him. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t like him that much. He was just really hot.” He looked around the quiet, empty apartment. “You could stay here for a while, if you want.” Alexis was a chaos engine, but he also kind of missed her. Her whirlwind life would keep him from thinking about his own sad existence as much.

“Ew, what? Why? I’ve got way more space at Mom and Dad’s, and when I want to stay in the city, Klair lets me stay at the apartment with her stepmom. Who’s actually really cool, although she takes way too many pills.”

“Fine, whatever. Far be it from me to come between you and Klair’s stepmom.” He fluttered his hand again.

“Okay, don’t be like that. See, David, I know how you are. You’re lonely right now and you think you miss me, but you’d be sick of me the second I set foot through your doorway. You’d complain that I was too messy and that my friends were too loud and that I hadn’t used a coaster for my water glass.”

“Well, if you’d use a coaster—”

“David, it’s 3 a.m. here and you’re lecturing me about a hypothetical coaster. I’m gonna get some sleep now, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Go to Mom and Dad’s if you’re lonely,” Alexis said.

“I’m not lonely.”

“Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight, Alexis.”

(Chapter 2)

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[additional content warnings after some spoiler space]

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[last warning]

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This fic will include a temporary character death, the temporariness of which should be obvious by the time it happens. Also note that this fic does include marital problems and adultery committed by Patrick, who didn't meet David in Schitt's Creek in this timeline, and (as you will see in the next chapter) ended up marrying Rachel. Just giving you an extra warning for that if it squicks you out.

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #hdwgb fic #my fic

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honeymoonjin · 6 years ago

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enjoy your stay - chapter thirteen

A/N - I don’t put links in anymore so that this comes up on search, but check my masterlist linked in my bio for links to every previous/future chapter.

Word count 3.3k. Warnings for explicit sexual content: masturbation (f), protected sex, kind of orgasm delay/denial, voyeurism. Yoongi x reader and Jungkook x reader.

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ↳Yoongi takes you to his house to cash in on your end of the deal, but you don’t leave satisfied.

Yoongi’s house was expansive and lushly outfitted, but that was hardly surprising. You imagine he could probably quite easily more money in any given transaction than she earned in a month. You didn’t think, in all the times you had seen him in the hotel bar, working on reports, that you had ever seen him wear the same shirt twice.

Hoseok had mentioned a week or so ago that he had semi-moved in, spending the weekends at Yoongi’s place and residing in his shoddy one-bedroom apartment for the work. You could see pieces of Hobi’s influence here and there as Yoongi gave you a brief, cursory tour: one of Hoseok’s jackets hung up on the coatrack in the entry foyer, a bunch of sunflowers in a vase on the dining room table that you knew came from his favorite florist (trust Hobi to have preferences for florists, you swore he spent more money on floral arrangements than he did on rent), you even spotted two toothbrushes in Yoongi’s private bathroom when he led you into his room.

You hovered awkwardly by the door until he told you to sit, and then you perched awkwardly on the edge of his silk-laden bed. He sighed, rubbed his eyes a little and announced that he was going to get something to drink.

While he was out, you took the time to check out his room from the vantage point of the bed. It seemed more lived-in than you’d expected; some part of you had imagined he would have a bedroom as minimalist and modern as his office, but the space was surprisingly cosy. The dark grey carpet was the type of super-thick, lush kind that rich parents installed when they built their own home. You were glad he asked you to take your shoes off at the door, as you spent the couple of minutes he was away digging your socked feet into the fibres. He had two mismatched bedside tables, one looking distinctly newer than the other, and it brought a smile to your face to see the old one adorned with a lamp, and a framed photo of a dog, and the new one holding only a worn book you knew for a fact Hoseok was in the middle of reading.

The warm feeling quickly soured, though, as a new wave of guilt overtook you. What were you doing here? Even though you and Jungkook weren’t actually dating, at least not for now, you knew he wouldn’t be happy with you doing this, and it seemed that Yoongi and Hoseok were a lot closer than either of them made it seem. Was this a mistake? It felt like all of your previous trysts, sexual or otherwise, had gone wrong in some way, and you didn’t want this to end up the same.

Edgy with nerves, and emotionally confused, you collapsed back onto the thick duvet on Yoongi’s bed, staring miserably up at the ceiling. You couldn’t exactly say ‘thanks for the free financial advice, I changed my mind about reimbursing you’ and walk on out of here. If nothing else, this was a business transaction, and you needed to stick to your word.

Who knows? Maybe all your previous encounters failed because you were trying too hard. Because it meant too much to you. A transaction might be a better way to go.

You steeled your nerves and made your decision a few moments before he reentered the room, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. You sat up and blinked at him. “Yoongi, it’s 10:30 in the morning.” He just stares at you and shrugs. “And weren’t you supposed to be working? You probably have appointments later.”

He deflates a little, settling the glasses down on his nightstand and sitting beside you. “I just told my assistant to reschedule any appointments while I was in the kitchen. I had intended to just get a glass of water for myself, but I realized I needed the liquid courage. I hope it’s okay with you.”

You scoot back onto the bed more, leaning back on your hands to get a better look at him, scanning his body language. “Yoongi, if you don’t want to do this…”

“I want to,” he insists resolutely, “I’m just a little nervous. It’s my first time, you know, with a woman.”

You purse your lips. “But you’ve had sex with men before. It’s not that different, surely. It’s all just biology.”

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes downcast. You can see his fingers tremble a little as he fiddles with his shirt cuffs. “It is different. When guys grow up, our whole lives we’re taught to anticipate having sex with women, and it’s a huge cause for celebration when you finally lose your virginity. It’s made out to be such a big deal. Like it’s how you become a man, or something. There was never any pressure to have sex with guys. The opposite, actually.”

“But you feel pressured to have sex with a woman,” you finish. You might otherwise have been a little insulted that he was sleeping with you out of a socially charged feeling of obligation, but you weren’t exactly in this for the normal reasons yourself. You didn’t know exactly why you were here, why you had thought it was a good idea to push the sugar baby aspect so much before, but it was too late for pondering that now.

He nods. “Yeah.” Rather than speaking further, he opens the bottle of wine, some French sauvignon blanc from the 1910s you’ve never heard of and offers you a glass. You decline, knowing you’ll want to sleep later on today and alcohol certainly won’t help. Rather than bothering to pour himself out a glass, he decides to take a swig from the bottle instead. You watch his Adam’s apple jog up and down as he chugs almost a third of it in one gulp.

He re-corks the bottle after that, to your relief, and returns it to the nightstand.

You wait for him to make a move, but he just sighs. When he speaks, his voice is flatter than you’ve ever heard it. “God, I don’t know what to do. I’m not even hard.” He glances sidelong at you. “No offense.”

“Uh, none taken,” you reply hastily, feeling equally not aroused due to the awkward turn this whole deal had taken. “Well, what does Hobi do that you like?”

He laughs nervously. “I shouldn’t really be thinking about other people while I’m in bed with you, should I?”

A thought occurs to you. “Wait, he knows about this, doesn’t he? I’m sorry, but I’m not sleeping with you if Hoseok isn’t okay with it. That would be a pretty shitty thing to do.”

“Are you kidding? Hope asked me if he could watch.”

You snort, and Yoongi joins you in a bout of laughter that eases the tension a little bit. “You said no, then?”

“This,” he says, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, “is payment for my services. A business deal. It’s not bring-your-boyfriend-to-work day, so I asked him to stay at home.” He gives you a wry grin, so you know he’s just joking around. “No, honestly, I’m nervous enough as it is. I think having him around would just be more pressure.”

“Hmm. If he was here, you’d probably have more success getting it up.”

“Hey! I’ll get there, just be patient. I don’t know, say something sexy.”

You give him a weird look. “Women aren’t vending machines, Yoongi, I don’t have a backlog of sexy comments waiting to be dispensed.”

“I know that, I just…need a little more help. And don’t talk about Hoseok anymore, otherwise Suga will get confused.”

You tilt your head. “Who?” He doesn’t respond, but his cheeks go bright red, and he shakes his head slightly like he didn’t mean to say it. It dawns on you. “Oh, y- Seriously? You seriously have a name for your dick? I thought that was a straight guy thing?”

“Just forget I said that, please,” he mutters hastily. “Let’s just…get started.”

You take a deep breath and huff out it, nerves returning to you a little bit. “Okay. You wanna kiss first or go straight to anal?” He splutters violently, cheeks burning up. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Although, I just wanted to ask if you did want to kiss first or not. I know you’re experimenting, but some people think kissing is really intimate and I can understand you not wanting to do that with me.”

He recovers enough to smile at you shyly. “I think it would be better if we don’t kiss, yeah.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s fine. If we’re going to go about this in a professional manner, the way I see it is that we have three objectives: one, get you hard; two, get me wet; and three, have sex. You all good with that? You know you can change your mind at any point,” you emphasize.

He’s quiet for a few moments, long enough that you almost call out his name, but then he nods triumphantly and turns to you. “Okay. Now step two.”

You blink, glance down at his lap, now with a visible tent in the crotch of his dress pants, and then back at him. “Holy shit, that was fast. Is that your super power or something?”

He bites his lip and goes red again. “I thought of Hobi.” Your heart swells. Had someone approached you a month ago and asked you your opinion of Yoongi, you would never once associate him with his romantic, vulnerable side. You must have been quiet too long, because he curses to himself and turns to you. “Shit, I’m sorry if that was the wrong thing to say.”

“Ah, it’s fine. Step two, then.” You weren’t prepared for the attention to be on you so soon, and you find yourself freezing, unsure of how to proceed.

Yoongi notices. “Is it, uh is it wet?”

You’re snapped out of your consternation with that one naïve question. He pouts adorably when you can’t help but let out a laugh. “Sorry, I’m not making fun of you, I swear. But no, it’s not wet yet.”

He openly stares down at your crotch with a lost expression on his face. “Do I have to…do anything?”

You subconsciously tuck your thighs together a little more, a bit overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “Uh, I can go to the bathroom and take care of it if you just want to skip to the good stuff.”

He looks back up at your face, probably realizing he had been staring a little too long. “No, I can…okay, yeah, that would be helpful. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss, hopping off the bed and letting yourself into his bathroom.

After an extremely non-erotic few minutes of you shoving your hand down your pants in his bathroom and trying to get yourself worked up enough to get wet, you return to the main bedroom with a heat burning between your legs and one damp hand.

The moment you look up at the bed you freeze in your tracks. Yoongi’s taken the opportunity to get fully naked, resting against the ornate wooden headboard, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he jacks off slowly.

He shoots up when you let out a strangled noise in shock, and he freezes his motion, cheeks turning bright red. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t want to chicken out, so… Sorry.”

You cough a little to clear your throat. “No, that’s…fine. I was just shocked, that’s all.” You start to undress yourself, dumping the clothes in a pile beside the bed, horny enough from being so close to orgasm that you can’t seem to care about how weird this is.

In any other situation, you’d be offended at his complete disinterest in you. Okay, maybe even in this situation, you’re still offended.

As you hop onto the bed beside him, his eyes flicker over your breasts without reacting, then between your legs with the same impassive, almost concerned-looking gaze.

Only once Yoongi holds up a small square of foil and tears it open do you realize he’s been twirling a condom packet the whole time. He rolls it on, double-checking to make sure it’s secure. Once it’s on, he looks up at you. “We should probably get going now. I don’t know how long this will last.”

Seriously? You’re standing naked in front of him and he’s worried he’s going to get soft? You tamp down your irritation and swing a leg over him, relishing in the shock that erupts on his face when you make a move. “Alright then,” you announce, “no point in waiting.”

Yoongi never makes an attempt to assist you as you line him up with your wet heat, simply laying back against the headboard like he’s watching a particularly uneventful documentary or something. Normally, when having sex with a virgin, or someone who was a little nervous in general, you’d go slow, easing them into it. But Yoongi’s insistence on having sex with you today, while remaining totally apathetic has you feeling like you have something to prove.

You sink down on him in one slick motion, ignoring the stretch for now and focusing on the way his whole body tenses up and his eyelids fly wide open, jaw slack.

You grin at him, and hold on to his headboard, knowing he probably wouldn’t appreciate you holding on to him. His cock is longer than most, although you were beginning to think there was something in the water at the hotel considering every single employee seemed to have a massive dick, and in comparison, to Jimin and Jungkook – though you knew that was wrong to do – he was pretty manageable.

Just to give yourself a few more moments to adjust fully to the feeling of him inside you, you stay firmly seated and roll your hips against him. He bucks, chest falling in as his body tried to curl up around the pleasure. “Feel good?” you ask breathily.

But he’s not listening to you. He’s glancing to his right, over to where you know Hoseok’s bedside table is, eyes scrunched up in intense focus. You growl in displeasure and steadied yourself against the headboard before picking up a steady rhythm, bouncing on him and rolling your hips every now and again.

He’s panting a little, but not making any noise otherwise, so you pick up the pace. From this angle, with you seated on top of him, his cock is curving inside you and dragging against your g-spot with every stroke, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on maintaining a decent pace for him, so that it’s not just you enjoying this.

You can see him begin to sweat, a fine gleam on his skin, and your fingers twitch with the urge to brush away his hair from where it’s sticking to his temple, but you resist. Instead, you hold on harder to the headboard and ride him as fast as you can manage, barely breathing as you focus purely on the drag of him inside you.

You can feel a fire starting up in your belly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, snaking a hand down to rub at your clit desperately, so close. It’s easier for you to get to that line after working yourself up in the bathroom, and you’re pining even more for that orgasm. “Ah, Yoongi,” you groan, “are you close?”

“No.”

His voice is perfectly clear and steady, and it shocks you so much to hear his completely calm negation that you still completely, hovering with just his tip resting shallowly inside you. “What?”

He winces. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I don’t think this is for me. You’re welcome to continue, if you want.”

You stare at him, brain still processing what he’s saying, and once you get the gist, you pull off him completely, frowning at the emptiness inside and the glossy smear his cock leaves on your thigh as he falls out of you.

When you look down, he’s still hard, but his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes flitting back in forth in deep thought. He’s really not interested.

“No, it’s fine,” you say once you gather your thoughts and a little of your dignity. “I understand. I’ll see myself out.” You hop off the couch and into the bathroom, wiping away the mess between your legs with a wad of toilet paper and coming back in to get back into your clothes.

He watches you silently for a few moments, softening embarrassingly quickly, before he even gets the chance to remove the condom. “I’m very grateful, Y/n. It was still helpful, at least to know that I’m really not attracted to women. No hard feelings?”

Your eyes burned and you bit down hard on your lip, buttoning up your shirt once the rest of you was covered. “I- Yeah. No hard feelings.” As if being told you were the one that told him for sure that he didn’t like women was something you wouldn’t take personally. “I’ll see you around, Yoongi. Say hi to Hoseok for me.”

He senses the emotional distress you’re in, and lets you leave his room and his house alone.

You cry in the car on your way home, feeling ashamed and stupid, and when you brush past Jungkook and shut yourself in your room to mope, he doesn’t ask what happened with you and your ‘friend from high school’. Before your voice gets too thick from tears and snot, you call Namjoon to tell him you’re feeling sick and won’t be coming into work that night.

It’s a couple of hours later, when you’re too dehydrated to cry and too tired to go out at chat with Jungkook or make something to eat for yourself, that you find your hand trailing down your stomach and under the waistband of your pants.

Twice now, you had gotten right to the edge and then been deprived, and you know you won’t be able to sleep until you relieve the tension.

Before you get going, you get your phone and put on some cheesy, over-acted porn, plugging in your headphones and squeezing your eyes shut so the sounds of moaning can act as an aid.

It takes an extremely short time to get close again, just from rubbing your clit in small circles over your underwear, which you can feel is starting to stick to your folds with how soaked it’s become.

The muscles in your abdomen and thighs begin to tense up as you can feel the band of pleasure tightening, ready to snap.

You speed up, unaware of how loud you’ve become, unable to hear through the headphones blasting pleasure-filled groans in your ear. Another sound you miss is someone knocking at your bedroom door, calling out to ask if you want some dinner.

The orgasm you’ve been so needy for is just a couple swipes away, and your hips begin jerking uselessly against your hand.

Your heart leaps out of your chest when you feel a hand grip onto your outstretched calf, and your eyes fly open. It’s Jungkook, standing at your bedside, frowning at the way your face contorts in pleasure, and the rapid undulations of your hand underneath the fabric of your pants, and you freeze immediately, but it’s too late.

Your body seizes up and your back arches wildly as you’re thrown over the edge, orgasming helplessly as Jungkook watches, the feeling of being watched sending you into another wave of pleasure.

He waits until you’ve collapsed on the bed, panting and still trembling, before he rips your headphones out and glares down at you. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

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