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shortkingzuko · 4 years ago

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Title: a shared life

relationship: Bato/Hakoda, past Kya/Hakoda

warnings: canon character death

rating: general

summary: It takes longer than it should for Hakoda to realize how much of his life he shares with Bato.

read under the cut or read it on AO3 for my tomfoolery in the notes/proper tags

this is my submission for the first day of @bakodafleetweek (modern au/with kids)

It takes longer than it should for Hakoda to realize how much of his life he shares with Bato. They had always been attached at the hip since they were old enough to cause trouble but still young enough to avoid punishment. Growing up, they shared nearly everything: food, toys, books, secrets, clothes (only for a few years though, at first Bato would only wear Hakoda’s, and then after they both had ‘boys clothes’, Bato got a growth spurt that seemed to rocket him above Hakoda), and even a car. When he started dating Kya, many people - including her - joked that she was getting two boyfriends for the price of one, considering how often Bato hung out with them, and, often unintentionally on all their parts, ended up tagging along for their dates. Even before Bato got his name, people would say that they were like brothers - and while Hakoda understood their sentiment, he always knew, deep down, that that wasn’t what they were. Bato’s frank and straightforward confession of his love when he was nineteen only confirmed it.

Not that that even changed anything - Hakoda was already three years into dating Kya, and all three of them lived together in a shitty apartment without heat for university (“Feels just like home!” Kya had declared their first winter there when the three of them were bundled in layers of sweaters and blankets because none of them thought they would need their parkas when they moved south together), and, Hakoda quickly learned, Bato had already cleared it with Kya before telling Hakoda.

“I know that nothing will come of this,” Bato said, voice deep and soothing. “I’m not trying to cause a rift or make you feel guilty. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’m just tired of holding this in and lying to myself about how I feel.”

Hakoda had been silent for a minute, staring at his best friend, who went from looking nervous to loosening and looking relaxed as the seconds wore on as if he knew that the delay in reaction didn’t denote anything bad. Hakoda cleared his throat. “Uh… thank you, I guess? I didn’t know I was such a hot commodity that I was attractive to the most beautiful girl and the prettiest boy of the tribe.”

Bato and Hakoda laughed, and from the next room over, he could hear Kya laughing too. For the longest time, Bato was right, nothing had come of that conversation - Hakoda and Kya continued to date, and eventually married. Bato, for his part, seemed to be more relaxed, like he lost a tension that Hakoda and Kya didn’t even notice he was developing. And while Bato dated a few men, nothing serious ever came of it. When asked, Bato would often shrug and say, “I’m happy as is,” and that would be the end of it.

When Kya was first pregnant with Sokka, Hakoda had a brief worry, laced between all the excitement and overwhelming joy he felt, that things between them (between him ) and Bato would finally change. Sure, nothing changed after he and Kya married and they finally decided it was time that they didn’t live all together - Bato only lived fifteen minutes away after all, and they often still had ‘sleepovers’ with all three of them - but surely their lives would get thrown into a loop with the arrival of a child. Admittedly, Hakoda was waiting for that moment, the moment where it was clear to the three of them that their trio no longer worked, that Bato would have to be abandoned at the sidelines so that Hakoda and Kya could raise their son.

It took until Katara was born for Hakoda to realize that the moment wasn’t going to come. If anything, Bato had become even closer to them, as he spent more time at their house to make sure Kya had everything she needed, to help them with cooking and cleaning, just to keep Kya company when she was having a tough time taking care of Sokka while being pregnant. When Hakoda was worried about raising two children, about his own abilities as a father, Bato was there to soothe and reassure him. When Kya got worried because her second pregnancy was turning out to be much harder than her first, her husband and Bato were next to her, calming her and helping her quell her worries. Hell, after Katara was born, Bato moved even closer to them - so instead of a fifteen-minute drive, it was only a ten-minute walk from his apartment to the Nootaikok household.

After realizing how much time Bato spent at their house, how much care he held for his children, Hakoda felt bad for assuming that anything that their relationship would suffer from the addition of children. Many times he would come home from work to find Kya and Bato sitting on the living room floor, both speaking Inuktut to a semi-coherent Sokka and a babbling Katara. Then, Hakoda would change out of his work clothes and join them on the floor, kissing Kya on the lips and giving Bato a firm squeeze on the shoulder in greeting, before cooing at his children in their traditional language as well.

And things were good, really good, for a long time. Bato was around for dinner at least once a week, Kya was able to return to work with less stress since there were three adults able to look after the kids, instead of just two, Hakoda and Kya got to go on dates with more frequency than any of their other friends since Bato was always happy and willing to babysit Katara and Sokka for an evening. They went on trips up to their village together, and when it was finally time for Kya and Hakoda to move houses, there was no question of if Bato was going to make sure that he lived close to them. Bato’s name and number were on every emergency contact list, he had a drawer of his things in a dresser in Kya and Hakoda’s room, and the few times that he dated anyone long enough to introduce them to his friends, they had to go through the strict screening process of Katara and Sokka asking, “ Why are you dating our Bato?”

And, silently, Hakoda liked that. Our Bato. That’s what he was, in all his 6’6, deep-voiced, long-haired glory. Bato was theirs, was his ; Bato was intricately, intrinsically connected to Hakoda and everyone that Hakoda loved. And he knew, even if he didn’t love Bato the way that Bato wanted to be loved by him, Bato liked being his Bato as well, liked being Kya’s and Sokka’s and Katara’s Bato.

And then. Kya was sick and faster than anyone could comprehend, she was in the hospital and then. Kya died. Painful and sudden, like a bandage getting ripped off and it pulling off the scab underneath, Hakoda was left without a wife and with two children now mourning a mother decades too soon. There’s no sense of cosmic justice or sense in her death and it thrusts Hakoda into a painful fog. There’s no comfort in burying her in their ancestral home, in her family plot, so soon after her own grandfather’s passing, there’s no respite when Kanna agrees to move closer to Hakoda to help him with Sokka and Katara.

It’s in that daze of grief and depression, that Bato seems to waltz in, keeping his family alive in the interlude between them burying Kya and Kanna finally being able to move down. Hakoda tries his best, but often it was Bato waking the kids up for school, making them cold breakfasts, and picking them up when the day was done. It was Bato that made sure the house had a semblance of hygiene, who tried to make sure that there was enough edible food in the house to sustain them. Barely anyone noticed, or if they did, no one questioned when Bato began sleeping in the guest bedroom at night, or how he would only return home to pick up more clothes, before returning to take care of his friend’s needs. When Kanna moved and got her own little house, a little less than a twenty-minute drive away, Bato pushed Hakoda into the car, after helping the kids pack their backpacks, and drove them all to Kanna’s so that the kids could spend a few days there.

In their absence, Hakoda’s house felt empty, desolate, like a mausoleum, filled with the ghosts of a life he no longer had. And in their absence, Hakoda finally let himself collapse fully into Bato’s arms and wailed, nearly crumbling onto the floor in the living room. It must have been hours that they sat on the floor as he clutched Bato’s boney, hunched shoulders, burying his face in his chest, mind not processing Bato’s soothing words or the way that he was rubbing his back. Vaguely, Hakoda considered how cruel this was, demanding that the man who loved him, who had built his life around him, comfort him as he grieved for his wife. The thought was quickly banished, in a moment of clarity, when he heard Bato sniff as he quickly moved to wipe his own tears from his face.

In the days that Sokka and Katara were with their grandmother, Bato and Hakoda got more work done than they had during the three months since Kya’s death. With a herculean effort, they went through Kya’s belongings, picking through them like precious treasure or radioactive material, each item handled with care and love and fear. They went through everything in Hakoda’s bedroom, cleaning everything that Hakoda wanted to keep, packing away things that he thought the kids should be able to have one day, and Bato boxed up everything that they decided should be thrown out or donated. By the time that the two men brought Katara and Sokka home, the house was cleaner than it had been in months, and while Kya’s memory and presence were still clearly seen and felt, it was less suffocating, and all four of them finally felt like they were able to breathe.

Vaguely, Hakoda worried that Bato would leave, now that he was (nearly) back to functioning like the adult he was. The thought worried him, scared him even, the thought of being alone again (years later, he would realize he was never really alone, to begin with), the thought that Bato would start to move on with his life, now that he didn’t have to stick around to take care of Hakoda and his kids. The thought that Bato, his Bato, would leave him, not as permanently but just as painfully as his Kya did, was enough to nearly send Hakoda back into a spiral. As if sensing his friend's fear, Bato never made any indication that he wanted to leave, that he wanted to move on or change his life. He was always there to wake the kids up when Hakoda could hardly get himself out of bed, was always there to remind Hakoda about the parent-teacher interview happening the next week, and was always there to wrap his arms around Hakoda’s shoulders, petting his hair as Kya used to, muttering condolences and reassurances in his ear after the kids were asleep and Hakoda could finally let himself cry.

It was nearly two years after Kya’s death when Hakoda finally noticed that Bato had actually moved into the guest bedroom, that Bato’s mail was now delivered to their address. It only takes some mild snooping to figure out that Bato didn’t renew his lease on his apartment. Distantly, Hakoda wondered if he should be upset that Bato took on this life change without asking, but he couldn’t bring himself to even mention it to Bato. It wasn’t like the ‘official’ move in even changed anything, as Bato had functionally been living with them since Kya passing.

In the years that followed Hakoda found solace in the new normal of his family. Hakoda never questioned why Bato remained by his side, in the room just down the hall, for all these years, even though both Sokka and Katara grew more curious as the years passed. In their own not-so-subtle way, they tried to figure out why Bato lived with them now, why he never moved out.

(“Are you going to move in with your new boyfriend?” Sokka had asked once, over dinner, when he was fourteen, and Bato mentioned off-handedly that one of his co-workers asked him out. Bato looked surprised at the question, before shaking his head.

“Sokka, I think that I would rather eat dirt than go on a date with him.” Hakoda laughed at the reply, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in,)

Not that Sokka or Katara could complain about the man’s presence; they loved Bato and were happy to have him in their lives, but the lack of clarity about who he was meant to be, what role he was trying to fill confused them.

In the end, it was Sokka who asked the question when he was fifteen. Hakoda had been driving him home from the mall when he sprung the question.

“Are you and Bato dating?”

Hakoda took his eyes off the road to stare at her for a moment. Belatedly, he realized that Sokka had asked him to pick him up, instead of just busing home, because he knew Hakoda wouldn’t be able to escape. He wondered if this was his influence or Bato's.

“What? No, of course not.”

“‘Cause if you were , that’s fine! Katara and I like Bato, obviously, and he lives with us anyways, and we know he loved mom too and-”

“Sokka,” Hakoda interrupted, making him frown. He hated it when people spoke over him, but he had to amend the situation. “Bato and I aren’t dating. I’m not- I don’t- We. We’re not dating, okay?”

Sokka stared at him for a moment, before crossing his arms and huffing, “Okay.”

As much as Hakoda wishes he could pretend the conversation never happened, it sticks with him, repeating in his mind for days. Katara and I like Bato… we know he loved mom too.

The idea of his kids being okay, maybe even happy, if they dated made Hakoda’s pulse quicken more than he’d care to admit. A few times Bato had asked him if he ever thought about trying to date again, and his excuse was always some mixture of, “I’m not ready” and “The kids wouldn’t like it” and “I don’t want them to think I’m replacing Kya.”

But Bato has always been in their lives, has always been rolling his eyes fondly as Hakoda, and eventually, Sokka, made bad jokes, always listened to his children’s impassionate rants, always gently corrected their pronunciation of English and Inuktut alike, and always looked at Hakoda desperately when one of the kids misbehaved, never quite sure if he was allowed to speak to them about it or not. Hakoda was pretty sure that Bato had attended a few PTA meetings for him, he was pretty sure that whenever the kids had a question about homework or life or a concern that they were equally likely to go to Bato as they were to go to him or Gran-Gran.

Even before Kya’s death, Bato had always expressed how deeply he loved Sokka and Katara, how much he cared for and adored them, how he had his own complicated relationship with the concept of children, and how he was uncertain if he would ever have biological children of his own - especially after years of hormone replacement therapy - and yet he loved Hakoda and Kya’s kids as if they were his own. At the time, it made him and Kya nearly tear up, so happy to have someone like Bato, with so much love in his heart for them and their children, in their family. Since Kya’s death, it only became more clear that some of the voids that they thought were left by Kya, were also spaces that Bato could fill, and had filled, for years.

Hakoda mulled the idea - of him dating Bato - over in his head. Surprisingly enough, to him at least, he found he wasn’t against the idea of being with his best friend. And looking over how much time they spent together, how often Hakoda would invite Bato to watch movies with him in his bed, how many responsibilities they shared, how he always felt a sense of comfort and belonging when Bato was by his side - different than how he felt with Kya, but no less intoxicating - Hakoda found he understood why his kids thought that he and Bato were already together. And he found that not only was he not opposed to the idea, but that it excited him, brought him comfort and a warm flush to his cheeks when he laid in the darkness of his bedroom at night.

Hakoda still found it difficult to think about talking to Bato about it, so used were they to just knowing one another that they didn’t need to have hard talks with one another. But Hakoda found it easy to let Bato know what he wanted without words. When they drove Hakoda would reach over and hold Bato’s hand, earning him a surprised look that would morph into an uncharacteristically shy smile. When Bato cooked dinner Hakoda would join him in the kitchen, joking with him and helping out even when it wasn’t his turn to cook. Hakoda had taken to sitting close to Bato on the couch, even when there was ample room to spread out, and would carefully rest his head against Bato’s broad and boney shoulders, wrapping his arms loosely around Bato's narrow waist.

It took a few weeks until Bato was finally sleeping next to Hakoda at night, hair fanned out on the pillow, shirt twisted from getting comfortable, his thin hand loosely holding Hakoda’s. At first, Hakoda was worried it would feel wrong, would feel like a shoddy and hurtful replacement for Kya, but all he felt was comfort and warmth when he opened his eyes in the morning and the first thing he saw was Bato.

It only took a little longer than that for Bato to softly press his lips against Hakoda’s, face illuminated by the dim bedside table lamp, both of them tired from a day’s work and from raising rowdy teens. He had to lean down to reach Hakoda’s lips, thumb rubbing a gentle circle on Hakoda’s sharp cheekbone. It felt so innocent, so chaste, and so much younger than they were as if they were teenagers still trying to figure themselves out in the back of their shitty shared car instead of in the house that they lived in together with Hakoda’s kids ( Their kids , his brain supplied fondly). It made Hakoda smile. It made him reach up, fingers tangling themselves in Bato’s sleep braids, and pull Bato down for more.

Hakoda had always known that Bato was his, but as he went to sleep with the taste of Bato’s lips on his tongue and with the image of Bato smiling sweetly in his mind, Hakoda was elated to realize that all this time he - and Kya and Sokka and Katara - have always been Bato’s too.

#text #bakoda #bato #hakoda #bakoda fic #bakoda fleet week #m #uhh #my fic #atla

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cursed-dreamss · 4 years ago

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the color of eden & dream ; a short story

an original short story by raven ryans

Love is - as countless other book characters would say - just a chemical reaction. But with Eden and me it’s more than just testosterone and estrogen. Addyson Peoria and Aron Rucynzski might disagree - but I say love is connection. Love is hope and holding on to one another. Love is finding the right people, people that make your heart sing. Love is understanding, comradery, and protectiveness. Love is communication - love is long talks and held hands. Love is messy and - and love is bold.

*** “Edes, we have lives. School, work, roommates, aspirations, lives”

“I know.”

“We can’t just stay out here forever”

“I know”

“Do you?”

“No”

***

“Edes, what happened to us? We used to be so perfect. Everything used to be so easy”

“We did. It did.”

“So what happened? You - you disappeared, Edes. Where did you go?”

“Where did I go?”

“Where did you go.” “A place I hope you never have to see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hush, Dream. Listen to the birds. Hush. ”

***

A star. A wish. I wish for everything to go back to the way it used to be. Eden and me; unstoppable. Eden and me; laughing. Eden and me; best friends. Eden and me; kissing. Eden and me; trusting. Eden and me. Eden and me.

*** Things can never go back the way it used to be. The old Eden is dead - she died years and years ago, the moment everything went to hell. Now all that’s left is this shell; fragments of the girl I used to be. I used to smile. I used to laugh. I used to enjoy life, God I used to enjoy life. I used to love; I used to be capable of love. I used to be confident; I used to be sweet, like honey, and yet tart like the first apple off the tree - some people’s favorite type of apple, others’ least favorite. Then reality caught up. Now I don’t smile, I don’t laugh, I don’t enjoy life. I don’t love, I'm not confident, I'm not sweet. I'm rotten, like the core of an apple when you leave it out too long. Nobody’s favorite type of apple. Not even Dream’s. *** “Green is the color of the grass where I used to read-”

“No, that song is depressing.”

“HEY!”

“It is. Just the truth, Dream.”

“I know a place we could goooo”

“Also depressing”

“I know a place where there aren’t any roaaaads”

“Why does this song fit us so well?” “Where the grass is always greener”

“Green is our color”

“And doesn’t scratch your fingers”

“Well no that would just be tragic”

“I know a place” *** Eden called me. After a week of barely talking. She called me. She said I know a place we could go. I laughed. Eden knew - Eden knows - how much I love that song. No one has been there no one will know. So we left - we grabbed some edibles and left. Didn’t tell our friends. Didn’t tell anyone. Just - left. The most impulsive thing I’ve seen Eden do since high school. She was almost herself again. Almost. *** Green. Grass. Trees. Dream’s favorite sweater. The one I used to wear.

Green. Leaves. The Spotify app icon. John Green.

Green. Money. Chartreuse. What is chartreuse?

Green. Mint gum. Kale smoothies. Emeralds.

Green. Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince. Best cover. Green. The house I grew up in.

Green. Dream and I. *** “I still love you.”

“What?”

“I just wanted you to know that.”

“Oh, well, thanks, D.”

“Your welcome”

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“I -”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if I can love anyone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s okay. I have enough love for both of us.” *** Dream is perfect. Everything I want, everything I need. I just wish I could love Dream as much as I used to. I loved Dream like the moon loves the sun - always and forever. But maybe always isn’t forever.

*** I am blue. Cold water, icy cliffs, deep and mysterious. Dream is yellow. Bright smiles, sunflowers, open and loving.

Put us together - we are green. Fresh leaves, rustling trees, rooted and wonderful. *** “FRUCK ITS RAINING”

“WOAH I HADN’T NOTICED” “RUN RUN RUN RUN”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING, EDEN??”

“STANDING THERE CACKLING AND SCREECHING THAT YOU’RE A STORM GODDESS” “BUT I'M RUNNING NOW”

“RUN FASTER”

***

“What happens now, Edes?”

“I dont know.”

“We’ll be fine. We got this.”

“Do we have to go back to uni?”

“We’re running out of food, so probably.”

“I don't want to, D. I want to stay here, with you, forever.”

“I used to believe in forever, but now I think forever is too short.”

“Dream Winston Grace-Riley, did you just quote Winnie The Pooh to me?”

“Eden Christine Verena, did you just catch my quoting of darling Pooh?”

“Shut up.”

“Love you too.” *** I thought Eden loved me. All this time - I thought she loved me. I still think she does, deep down. She just doesn’t know it. If she didn’t love me, why would she call me and run away deep into the woods with me? Unless Eden’s secretly an ax murderer who has a liking for theater nerds named Dream, she loves me. I don’t know how to help her realize that though. I don’t know how to help her at all. *** Dream looks at me in a way that only Dream can. With love, with tenderness, with an overwhelming amount of adoration. All I’ve ever given Dream in return was bullshit - except for the beginning. We were so free. Full of love for each other; for ourselves; for the world. Now I’m held down by the binds of society - by the binds of the Verena’s - by the binds of my own mind. Now I’m full of hate - for myself, for the world, but never for Dream.

*** I laugh. She looks at me sadly, the ghost of a thousand laughs lost on her quiet lips. I hush. She takes my hand. I blush. Six years, I still blush. She tells me she doesn’t know anything. I tell her that’s okay, that we can figure it out together. She says she doesn’t know if she can do that. I’m silent. ***

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“I would be nothing without you. Don’t leave me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

***

“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?”

“My happy place.”

“Where’s that?”

“With you, Eden. With you.” *** Eden. She’s a lot. She’s brave and compassionate and caring and practical and unique and beautiful and perfect. And best of all, she’s mine. *** “How do you still believe in magic? After everything that has happened to us - to me - how do you still believe that there’s magic?”

“I don’t, not all the time.”

“What makes you remember to believe it?”

“You. Every time I look at you, I’m a little girl again - sure that there is magic in this world.” *** Love declarations. Sweet letters. Lingering kisses. Passion. Freedom. Happiness. Turned into . . .

Unsaid adoration. Not-so-awkward silence. Distant hugs. Unknown. Lingering sadness. Shadows.

*** “I don’t wanna lose - I don’t wanna lose this with you.”

“I don’t either, Dream darling.” “Then hold on to me, Eden. Hold on to me.”

“I am.”

*** If you don’t want to lose this then try and put a little effort into this goddamn relationship. I want to scream at Eden. But I don’t. I don’t i dont’ i never do - I can't I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.

*** We should leave soon. Dream has roommates ; I have work. Dream has school ; I have work. Dream has theatre ; I have work. Dream has a life; I have work. *** “When are we going back?”

“You make it sound so ominous, D.”

“I mean, it kinda is.”

“I don’t know - we should go back - er - you should go back.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” *** Our last night together. Ever? ***

Ever. *** I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to leave this perfect safe haven in this deep dark forest of just me and Eden. My problems checked themselves at the door the moment she called me, but I know hers came with us. Hers follow us everywhere, relentless phantoms haunting her day and night. I see them in the morning - shadows lurking just over her shoulder, forcing her to shrink under the pressure. I see them at night - floating over the moon blocking the moonlight from landing on her beautiful face. I see them everywhere. I can only imagine what it’s like for poor Eden. *** Poor Eden.

Whatever happened to poor Eden?

Some say my mom died. Poor Eden’s mother, passed away when she was only 14. Poor Eden. Some say my dad left. Did you hear? Poor Eden’s father left her and Ceelio. Poor Eden. Some say I died. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Verena - their only daughter. Dead. Poor Eden, she was so young. Some say I disappeared, never to be seen from again. Where did Eden Verena go? Nobody knows. She’s gone. Poor Eden. They are all true, and yet all false at the same time. My mother died - and yet she is still alive. My father left - and yet he is still around. I died - and yet I am still alive. I disappeared - and yet I am here, with Dream, deep in this forest. *** The morning I left was crisp, bright, birds singing, sun shining. It matched my mood. It did not match Eden’s. *** “So. We’re leaving today, Edes.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know. You have a life - you tell me.”

“You have a life too, Edes.”

“Oh really?”

“Me. You have me, Eden Christine Verena.”

“I do.” *** Dream’s leaving. I am not. *** “Look! Its civilization! Edes, oh my gosh look look look it's a TOW TRUCK!”

“It is indeed, D. Good observation.”

“Come onnnn lets gooooo we have to get back to campus!”

“You go on, I want a minute just me and the forest.”

“Okayyy. I’ll meet you down at the gas station, okay?”

*** I never met her down at the gas station. She never came. I waited and waited - for nearly four hours. I told myself she had gotten lost, I told myself she had fallen asleep, I told myself she cared. I ran back into the forest. I searched and searched. I could not find her. Eden Verena was simply gone. *** Eden Verena had been gone for years, but no one had noticed. Every day I bled a little more until the cut that always bleeds had no blood left to spill. Until I had no blood left to spill. Then I disappeared for real - forever. *** I never let her go completely. Every day I go down to the gas station and wait for Eden - Eden Eden Eden, my one true love, my source of happiness, my everything. She never comes. *** Dream has to let me go. I know Dream will - eventually. I will fade away until I’m nothing but a distant memory. Oh, Eden? Ha yeah, just an ex of mine. But Dream will never fade away to me. Dream is always - Dream is forever. Even if I’m not. *** My happy place. I told her she was my happy place. I told her I loved her, that I was there for her, that I was hers. I told her over and over again. I didn’t tell her enough. I didn’t do enough. I could have saved her - but no. I tried - I tried, I tried I tried but I didn’t try hard enough. *** Nothing Dream did or said could have saved me. I was too far gone. *** I will love Eden Verena till the end of my days, even if she didn’t love me until the end of hers. *** Goodbye, Dream. I should have said goodbye a long time ago. But I’m saying it now. Goodbye. I - I love you. I loved you. *** All things green die at some point. Grass, trees, leaves, Eden and Dream. They all die at some point - and maybe some point is now.

#raven ryans #ravenryanswrites #the color of eden and dream #original story #drabble #short story #realistic fiction #romance #love #gay #eden verena #dream grace-riley #raven atarah's writing adventures #[ short story ]

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anxietymymiddlename · 5 years ago

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His and hers circumstances

Pairing: Jumin Han x MC4

Summary: Jeahee is going out with Zen? The surprising news leave her with a broken heart, still she can not find the courage to confess her feelings to her afraid that she will not accept her. Trying to confront her confusing emotions, Jumin enters her every day life like a storm while dealing with his own issues. A little bit more than friends, but with their emotions not sorted out yet, what will happen when they will end up under the same roof?

Author's note

Hello and thanks for reading. I hope that you will enjoy the first chapter. Just a simple note; as I was writing down this story, I realized that it just felt a bit awkward to refer to the main character as MC, so I decided it to name her since Creritz lets you name her anyway. I choose the name Min-Seo because it does sound a bit like MC (and also because I'm bad at naming characters). I do hope it will not weird you out. Your thoughts are always very much appreciated.

[Chapter 1: A sip of love, bitter than coffee]

“I thought… me and you together, surrounded by the smell of coffee, in our cozy cafe and your smile… was everything I ever needed. Because I felt at ease by your side, more than I ever was. But I was so dither, I could not ask you to be mine and ultimately, you never were.”

The luxurious, black car stopped in front of the familiar coffee shop. His eyes glanced at the sign and he blinked as its sight snapped him out of his thoughts. “Rêver”. What a pretentious choice for name and in French in addition to that; was what he told them when they first revealed it. The storefront was neatly decorated or Christmas, he had expected nothing less from Jaehee. Driver Kim announced that they had reached their destination in a cold, monotonous voice per usual to keep the formality. He checked the time on his watch slipping his sleeve down with a smooth, professional move and took a big breath. Almost punctual, he wished they had stuck in traffic a bit more. It would give him the perfect excuse to be a bit late to the occasion.

His hand grabbed the deluxe package of the expensive wine. He had meticulously picked it himself, so he could guarantee its taste. He also didn’t have any doubts that a bottle of wine was a great present to gift; not very personal but you could attune your pick to the receiver’s taste. Plus, you could easily enjoy it alone or with company, how perfect was that? It was evidently a choice that suited his character, unlike the one he had in his pocket. For something that was meant for a present exchange, it was too personal and that fact troubled him so much he had ended up not going to the Christmas party. Since he had already avoided them once using a lame excuse, he’d feel guilty to avoid Jaehee’s birthday as well and it would also be unfair to her. Maybe him being there would help him sort out his thoughts or at least help him understand why he wouldn’t stop carrying that present on him; he tried to think positively.

Straightening up his suit, he opened the door drawing the attention of the groups sitting on the tables nearby. A huge Christmas tree was hulking at the back. Couples and groups of friends were dominating the place chatting merrily while soft jazz music was playing in the background. Christmas day had already passed, but with New Years Day just around the corner the cheesy atmosphere had not fainted. He could not avoid it even during business hours, since his assistant could not miss a chance to talk about how he had spent Christmas day with his family until he got fed up with it and made it clear to him that he was not interested to know the details.

His gray eyes scanned the room and stopped at a familiar back. Her hair, just like Jaehee’s had grown with years, now covering her back. She was standing by the table, chatting cheerfully with the odd trio. The redhead was the first one to notice him and waved enthusiastically gesturing at him to join them. That drew her attention to him and she smiled softly as usual when she was welcoming him to their shop. Her uniform, simple as it was, suited her perfectly. Black pants and a white shirt which was complimenting her darker complexion. They had switched to a green apron for Christmas, unlike the black one they were usually wearing.

“Good evening,” he greeted taking off his jacket. “Oh, the CEO finally granted us with his presence!” Saeyoung teased and stood up, bowing comically to him. “What an honor!” “Come on, you know he wouldn’t miss Jaehee’s birthday,” she said. “Well, he shouldn’t miss our Christmas party either,” Zen frowned. “Everyone was waiting for him. Canceling at the last moment and not even saying sorry…” “Maybe the three ghosts paid him a sudden visit,” Saeyoung commented. “So he couldn’t come.” “Of course I would not deny an invitation from assistant Kang,” he explained ignoring Saeyoung’s reference. “Since she is a person I respect, despite the events that led to the establishment of this place.” “It’s been over two years, why are you still hang up on that?” she sighed. “I feel this place was built upon my baby’s body and oil,” Saeyoung sniffed. “Don’t put it like that, it sounds weird,” Yoosung grimaced. “I am not,” he looked down at her. “Yet, you still bring it up whenever you have the chance,” Zen noted. “Get over it already.” “Not to mention that Jaehee does not like it when you call her assistant Kang,” she added. “You shall be remembered,” Saeyoung swept his eyes with the table cloth. “My poor baby.” “Stop it,” Yoosung slapped his hand. “It’s out of habit, I don’t mean to offend her.” “I know that, I just wish you could fix hat habit,” she pouted. “Well, you are one of the reasons she is not my assistant anymore,” he said taking a seat. “...So I don’t want to hear that from you.”

She blinked for a moment and cupped her chin chuckling.

“Well, you do have a point.” “Dude, you are the sole reason she left!” Zen frowned. “Min-Seo, you know you should get a bit mad at him when he talks to you like that,” he advised. “It’s fine,” she laughed.

Her fingers run through her dark brown hair before she places them behind her ear. She was in a better mood that usual but that did not surprise him. Whatever had to do with Jaehee was always bringing a smile to her face. Just a simple mention of his ex-assistant’s name and her whole face would light up. He knew, he watched it happening so many times already. He looked away, feeling bothered by the thought and placed the box he was carrying on the table.

“I brought a present,” he said in an awkward attempt to chance the subject. “Oh, wine again, what a surprise,” Zen could not hold back his sarcasm. “Expensive wine,” he corrected confidently. “Thank you, Jumin,” she interfered before Zen’s retort. “You picked a good one. I’m sure Jaehee will like it.” “Jumin brought a present but he missed our present exchange during the Christmas party,” Saeyoung shook his head dismissively. “Maybe he got a bit stingy?” “Like he’d miss a chance to show off… But like you’re the one to talk… Who brings Honey Buddha Chips as a gift for an exchange? I felt sorry for Min-Seo,” Zen scolded him. “Well, Yoosung was happy to trade though,” she smiled. “You brought the BD of your last drama, so what makes your present better that mine?” Saeyoung looked offended. “And Yoosung brought a gift card for LOLOL, clearly picking something only he’d like to get. At least mine was edible!” “You and Min-Seo also play LOLOL occasionally, so I picked it considering the odds one of you two might getting it,” Yoosung defended his choice teary. “I put a lot of thought to it!” “Jaehee also enjoyed the BD we exchanged,” Min-Seo comforted him. “So I was glad you accepted the trade.” “Well, I do prefer Honey Buddha Chips to it, so...” “Heard that? He just admitted my that present was beer,” Saeyoung patted Yoosung on the back excited, Zen raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean that! I’m just not into police dramas and Zen didn’t have a major role anyway,” he tried to justify his choice. “What do you mean?” Zen placed his hands on the table looking a bit insulted. “It was not a major part but I had a key role in it. I played the host the victim was in relationship with before she gets murdered. I was one of the main suspects and I also provided important evidence.” “Sounds lame” Jumin added fuel to the fire. “Will not watch.” “You never watch my works anyway!” “Well, I don’t have the time. Also, when I do, I spent it with Elizabeth the 3rd, it’s more productive.” “How is spending time with the fur ball considered more productive than watching art?” “Now, calling it art is a bit…” “Jeahee was touched when it was revealed that your character truly loved the victim but he didn’t want to drag her into his world or sully her name, since she was a married woman, thus he denied that he knew anything about her at first,” she commented. “Right?” Zen looked happy. “I’m glad you understand.” “Jo Won’s role as Detective Park was really captivating! I liked how he dealt with the loss of his own daughter and the struggles within his family while he was working on the case. His emotional portrayal of the character was definitely the best part!” “So she says,” Jumin said. “Oh, but Zen was also great! I can’t wait to see you play in another detective drama. Whether it’d be a detective or a villain, I bet you could portray it perfectly,” she did her best to sound supportive seeing him depressed. “Too late to say that now… Though I know that I can’t compare to seasoned tv actors.” “What about playing Policeman B, you could definitely pull that off and it’s within your reach,” Jumin said and Saeyoung snickered challenging Zen’s temper. “Jumin, that was mean...” she gave him a scolding look. “Well, I’m trying my best, so I don’t care what you think! And you didn’t even have the right to butt in the conversation… You didn’t even bring a present!”

He unconsciously touched the box in his pocket; not loosing eye contact with the furious actor. Zen had jumped on his feet, with the hands on the table supporting his body while looking at him challengingly. Yoosung was munching a biscuit watching them anxiously while Saeyoung didn’t even try to hide that he was enjoying himself. He closed his eyes feeling tired already, why did he have to deal with this? He was hoping they would not bring it up in the first place, but the conversation ended back at it even though it had deviated a bit.

“I had bought one, but I returned it to the shop since I could not make it to the party. No point keeping it since I could not attend,” he folded his arms irritated that he had to explain himself to him and because he felt the need to lie no less. “Zen got lucky, he ended up with Jaehee’s hand-knitted scarf,” Min-Seo tried to light up the conversations. “It really suited you, Zen.” “Of course,” he scratched his nose feeling flattered. “With a face and body like mine, it’s hard for something not to suit me.” “What about your gift?”

The question came naturally to him, he wanted to know and somehow he was regretting that he had not joined them… just a bit. Maybe he was over-thinking things, everyone had brought gifts they personally liked or something only one or two out of six of them would like. Was it wrong for him to pick something with her on his mind? But on the other hand, his choice was obviously the worst, of course a guy would have no need for a hair ornament and the group was consisted by four of them, so the more he was thinking of it, it was needless to say that it was suited for a direct exchange. Did he sound too eager for an answer? She looked surprised by his question.

“Got curious?” she finally smiled brightly. “I made a panda keychain. I was a bit hesitant since I thought it’d be too cute for a guy, so I was glad that Saeyoung did not mind.” “I like it,” he said and waved a cute panda holding a read heart hanging from his keys. “It’s cute.” “Isn’t it? Jaehee suggested we should make something handmade for the occasion and I found the instructions while I browsing the net looking for something easy to make. I thought it’d be something I could manage to make. It proved harder than I thought and the first attempts were a failure,” she revealed hers taking it out of her pocket, it was similar but it was not holding a heart. “But it was addictive and though I threw out a dozen of them, it started taking shape.” “Oh, so now we match!” Saeyoung adjusted his glassed.

She chuckled at his comment.

“Well, it’s nice that you liked it, I regretted not being able to learn how to make another pattern before Christmas. I’m sorry.” “Panda’s are cute, I like them! No need to apologize.” “Thank you,” she smiled again. “I’m honestly glad you didn’t mind.” “I wouldn’t mind either,” he blurted out with a straight face.

They were taken aback by his words, unsure if they had heard him correctly or if it was an attempt to crack a joke. The truth was that he was surprised himself, but Saeyoung’s comment annoyed him a bit, he almost wanted to snatch the keychain away.

“You wouldn’t?” Zen hesitantly asked in order to confirm it. “I wouldn’t. Pandas are almost as charming as cats. Well, nothing is cutter than Elizabeth the 3rd though.” “Still, I could not picture him holding this keychain,” Zen murmured. “Would a CEO go around carrying a keychain like this? What would your executives think?” Yoosung asked “Hm? I don’t really care about that. It’s not like I go around showing them my keychain anyway.” “Are you serious?” Zen asked in disbelief. “Well, I can picture it,” she laughed. “Jumin not caring about what the rest of the world thinks is one of his best merits sometimes.”

His heart skipped a bit again; he did not like this feeling.

“You are exaggerating, but yes.” “Maybe I should make one for you too then.”

That startled him.

“Don’t make it the same as Seven’s.” “Dude, she just offered to make one for you for free on her free time, just be thankful instead of making requests.” “It’s ok, maybe I should add a different colored heart, thought since it’s handmade and I’ve not completely gotten the hand of it, it’ll look a bit different anyway.” “Then, make it purple.” “Just how selfish can you get?” Zen asked. “Yeah… Mr. CEO,” Saeyoung leaned in and whispered by his ear. “You penthouse is card locked, so why do you even need a keychain anyway?” “Sorry to interrupt but what about Jaehee? When are we going to see her?” Yoosung asked. “It’s supposed to be her birthday.”

Yoosung had a godly timing asking that, it distracted the ex-hacker’s attention and gave him an excuse to avoid his stare. It made him anxious that he could not answer his question, what was the feeling that made him ask for one too, he could not tell.

“Oh, she is busy with her cake,” Min-Seo explained. “She said she wanted to decorate it herself. I’ll go fetch her and bring you re-fills. Jumin didn’t even get a drink yet, I’m sorry.” “No need, the customer service is always awful here after all,” he said. “Hey!” Zen was about to argue with him again. “You say that but you always come back,” she grinned. “Really?” Saeyoung asked. “Yeah, he drops by for coffee pretty often.” “I’m just supporting an ex-employee… and it’s not too far from my office so it’s convinient.” “It’s not too close either,” Saeyoung narrowed his eyes. “Well, thanks for your support anyway. Be right back.” “Gosh, Jumin, be a bit more honest,” Yoosung sighed. “The place is really friendly and I really like their cakes and their coffee.” “Hm? But I was? They often neglect me if I drop by in rush hours just because I’m their acquaintance. They think that offering me free cake and then chat with be for a bit can make up for it but it’s not very professional.” “A rich guy… whining for free cake,” Zen was done with him; he didn’t even have the energy to argue.

Even though he complained, he couldn’t help but to recognize the progress the place had made over the two years it was open. Jaehee not only had picked a nice location but also created an efficient campaign targeting working young adults. The décor was tasteful, the prices affordable and the service very friendly, so it gained quite a few faithful customers in a short time who were visiting during their breaks or after their work. That helped them spread their name mouth to mouth too and after just one year they had to hire a few employees as the demand grew higher. His ex-assistant was indeed a capable woman and one who would explore her options and keep studying on the field she had chosen after her resignation. No wonder it was hard to replace her after she left. As a businessman he could not help but admire her efforts as she was striving for a healthy business within a withering local market, he wouldn’t even hesitate to invest in acquiring the brand name if it meant having her as a partner.

At first he did not want to visit the place and he could not deny that his first visits where not very pleasant as, displeased as he was by her resignation, he ensured to note every single flaw he could find. But even as he did that, Min-Seo, who was in charge of the customer service, always smiled and nodded at him and by the next time he visited the place it was fixed. However, after a while he was not sure why he kept visiting even though he had recognized their will, nor he could explain the fuzzy feeling inside of him every time she took the time to chat with him. After a while, he had even managed to fix his visits to her schedule almost perfectly. He could not understand his actions completely but he knew that he was thinking of her a lot and that he was missing her smile when he could not see her for days.

Troubled over his thoughts, he was barely paying attention to the other guys; Yoosung was complaining about being single, nothing new there. It was unlikely he’d find a girlfriend before New Year’s Eve, so hearing him making a big deal out of it seemed like a waste of his time. Zen’s advice to him were obviously useless too and clearly based on his experience, but since their personalities were completely different, Yoosung would hardly put any of them into practice unless he’d magically gain unfathomable confidence. It seemed that it was clear to Saeyoung as it was to him, because he did not let the chance to tease the poor, blond boy pass by. The bespectacled man was always perspective, to the point it was scary sometimes. As for him, he had plans to spend that day with his beloved cat, so he didn’t even feel the need to get involved in their conversation.

“Finally, the birthday girl is here!” Saeyoug stood up and everyone followed his example.

Jaehee was smiling shyly. Her hair were long now, she was dressed more feminine. A beautiful, mature woman. His decision to force a dress code on her while he was working under him was on point; just thinking that there was even a small chance his father would get into her and make a move made him sick, thus he did not regret it. She greeted everyone whole-heartily, thanking them for their presence there and their gifts. Even though he greeted her back properly wishing her happy birthday as they shook hands, he could not focus on her. His attention was anchored on Min-Seo instead; her smile looked so fake -unlike a few minutes ago- and her eyes which were shining brightly now looked empty, almost like she was detached from reality, it made him feel uneasy.

Up went his eyebrows, ignoring the others who were complimenting the cake’s decoration. What had happened in the span of a few minutes? He glanced sideways feeling that Yoosung of all people had sensed that he was staring at her too much. His uneasiness grew by the minute but he tried to bury his desire to approach her. Soon enough, everyone was singing happy birthday. He knew that she would normally sing louder and happier and louder than everyone else, but she just mumbled the song, clapping along with the others without much enthusiasm as long as it finished. The customers joined them congratulating Jaehee on her birthday, those who frequented the place even approached her to shake hands.

She was standing by her side, as Jaehee was busy thanking them, staring into space. He could not tell if she had sensed him staring at some point, but her eyes finally locked with his. That seemed to bring her back to reality as her plastered smile vanished for a moment. She looked away sadly and kind of embarrassed and then offered him an awkward smile. He squinted his eyes, but she avoided his gaze again. He could not stand seeing such a lonely expression on her face, he felt like something her grabbed his heart squeezing it hard.

“I want to thank everyone for coming here today,” Jaehee smiled slyly when the customers finally went back to their tables. “Today is a special day, not only because I am getting a year older,” she joked. “…Or because everyone is celebrating with me in this special place for me… But also because I… Actually… we’d like to make an announcement,” she flushed and her fingers softly touched Zen’s hand. He accepted them, lacing his between them and smiled at her encouragingly. “We decided that we’d like to try… start living together.” “Eh? Where did this come from? Aren’t you roommates with Min-Seo already anyway? “ Yoosung innocently asked eating his cake. “You guys were dating? Since when?” Saeyoung asked more quick on the uptake but still shocked at the news. “What?” Yoosung choked. “Just how oblivious can you be?” Jumin offered him his glass of water. “Well, we wanted to be sure it’ll work out first, considering it might affect RFA if it wouldn’t. We didn’t mean to keep it a secret this long, but we somehow lost the timing to reveal it,” Zen explained it. “So it does seem sudden, but we’ve properly dated for a while now.” “Did you practice your lines before saying this?” Saeyoung asked raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t!” “We also had to consider Zen’s career…” Jaehee added.

Everything was clear to him after that. The source of that painful expression was laid before him, but why was his heart aching too? It was not supposed to be like this; he didn’t want to see her trying so hard to conceal it in front of everyone, but if he had to be honest to himself, he was hurting more over something he was suspecting for a while now.

“Assistant Kang…” “Yes, Mr. Han,” she replied as a reflex and immediately covered her mouth realizing her blunder. “Are you sure about this decision?” “What are you even asking her?” Zen stood up confused. “I am,” Jaehee answered without even a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Then I will support you, since I trust your judgment… So I will not hold back too.” “What the hell?” the young actor cried. “Since when did you like her?” “The drama!” Saeyoung raised this spoon and took a bite of his cake while watching them. “How did you even get that idea?” Jumin replied coldly. “But… you just said.” “Kang’s taste is questionable, but her boldness is inspiring. It’s nothing more than that.” “Thank you,” she looked at him puzzled. “I think we should bring wine to celebrate. Right, Min-Seo?” “Eh?” she turned to him. “Ah! Right… Wine,” she put up a smile. “I think red wine would suit the happy occasion. I’ll go bring it.” “Then, I should also-” Jaehee was ready to stand up. “The couple should stay together,” he stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder.

The truth was that, even though he applauded their decision to take their life and their relationship to the next step, no matter how cold that’d sound, he couldn’t care less about it at that moment. Trying to stay collected, he followed her calmly to the kitchen, trying to avoid raising any suspicion. He opened the door and walked into a perfectly clean and organized kitchen to the surprise of a couple of the kitchen stuff. She was standing in front of their cellar with her hand lingering over a bottle of wine like she was frozen in time, lost in her thoughts, her other hand gripping her apron. The shoulders tensed the moment he touched them and he turned to him in daze. Her hair brushed against his hand and for a moment he could not help but to twixt a strand between his fingers.

“I can choose one for you,” he said and picked one before she manages to stop him. “Christmas time is a busy period; it looks like fatigue already got to you. We are also busy during these days, so I can understand the toll it can cause to your body and mind. Why don’t you take a short break? I’ll tell the others.” “I don’t-“ he flinched her forehead. “Don’t let the customers see you like this. It’s unprofessional,” he turned his back to her taking the bottle with him. “You’ll also worry her…”

“Jumin…”

He stopped on the spot with the door half-closed and glanced at her over his shoulder. In reality he was taking more about himself and not Jaehee; it was hard seeing her in this state. She was trying to find her words but gave up soon and smiled softly.

“Thank you,” she simply said.

He nodded. He couldn’t tell her that he didn’t want to see her wearing this expression, that he felt happy seeing her smile and his heart raced every time he called his name. But he understood that her heart was not beating for him at that moment. So he just left…

#jumin x mc4 #jumin han #mystic messenger mc #zen x jaehee #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger fanfic #jumin #mysme hyun ryu #mysme jaehee #jumin x mc

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gvaf-radio-blog · 5 years ago

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I was laying in bed trying to not think about the rejection when the crying fit started, normally it goes away after a bit but this welled up and I felt an emotion like onto a rage induced tornado surging through me and I pounded the floor screaming like I lost a limb to a bear trap and started to pray to God, keep in mind I am a Satanist, to either help me find a way to get the love of my life back or to give me the means to end my life. Satan was very understanding but reminded me to call them first next time since Satan never told me I was damned for being born pansexual and they did turn me on to better fashion and literature, sorry Satan.

It had been going on like this for the better part of July and there were several things going on in my life at the time one of those was a firm belief that I had grown too old, too fat, too broken to be any use to anyone other than to make others feel better and be target practice for the Russian Cupidi who seems very intent on making others fall in love with me on the other side of the continent, little fuckers have surprisingly deep laughs I found out . There was a person I was convinced was the love of my life because they seemed to understand me, never made unreasonable demands of me ( I thought) and to put it simply we could not be in a room alone ever. We worked well together in fact each time we would meet it ended in us kissing and tearfully saying I love you to each other while holding each other head to head crying. Everytime I heard a slight Russian tinged laugh. We were for a short time had an almost family, an almost family is where things are just off and need adjustments. I wanted tp make us a full family badly I wanted this family to happen because these kids were at one time treated like mine own, I am a simple and boring man except for the Cupidi and a stalker with cat ears who keeps leaving dead birds on my front stoop.

So yes I was that fool everyone has laughed at in a heart break fueled misery that pop songs and movies lie to us and say “ AH but tis only the third act! The two distant lovers will be reunited and the love song with start after the credits”. I want to start rounding up the con artist that make a living by filling empty headed children with these notions of true love or that love conquers all and sodomize them with live lobsters. I don’t want to violate ethically challenged people with shellfish everyday, just on those days when I have to deal with the doll eyed masses, ok so basically every day I was trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt. The Ex had asked me if the reason I wanted to get back together was because they were a “sure thing” I told her that they were really a long shot but if I didn’t try then I couldn’t live with myself. Fast forward a few weeks and several insulting explanations later and I am now turning over all the reasons I am broken goods and that I should not rise above my station because I deserve to be alone, i’m scum, I’m why baby jesus cries and milk spoils when I walk into the room. I started taking pot shots at the local Cupidi with my compound bow but it was hard to aim with eyes full of tears and the edible kicking in finally. I don’t know how to say fuck you in Russian but I think I know the sound of the word.

Next we find me red eyed muttering some gibberish that’s been fueled by what I would find out later to be a suspected mental illness that is only half way being treated with medication and therapy. To give you a funny and disturbing visual. After not eating or sleeping for several days I looked like what could be described as a cross between a fat Reinfeld and a goth George Costanza , or Meatloaf on a bad day. I give you options for your visuals, am I not merciful?

It’s now sometime between one and five A.M and I am looking up the price of the least expensive .45 handgun because I’m poor and I’ll be getting some extra money soon because I turn thirty nine in a week I do not want to be thirty nine so I start looking for american style solutions, happy fucking birthday. I chose this caliber because having some medical training and studying the wonderful world of trauma I got to see in full detail what a self inflicted head wound looks like and what a person's life is when the bullet doesn’t take enough grey matter. I didn’t want to be alive then I sure as hell didn’t want to live as a joke character from a Garth Ennis story so I was going to get a bigger bullet . America, fuck yeah.

so I started to make my final birthday plan and feel at peace with having my last ride of Clove’s, bourbon and a good pub hamburger then, Tchüess. BANG! Obviously I didn’t buy the gun to end my misery and embarrassment as my brain was telling me I needed, because instead my brain going into OH FUCK mode was throwing everything it had at me to save the ship. Then it hit pay dirt. I rediscovered a natural emotional energy that put my mind into a laser focus clearing the fog and lies away just enough to stop my self destruction and restart the rebuilding I began in the winter. The emotional energy that saved me from turning my head into goo goes by the name of pure fucking spite.

I realized that my idiocy levels had reached a critical mass when the Cupidi in hazmat suits who seem to be , in Russian , bitching about extracting me to go get recharged . They came down to take me back to a containment unit that will refill my cynicism back to optimal and lethal fuck off capacity. After my IV of coffee and Monster™ grape was removed I was set loose again into the wilds of Southeast Portland to reconnect my brain with seething hatred that I somehow misplaced my hatred during the heartache attack between Southeast Division and Southeast Clinton street where I was bludgeoned with a baseball bat by the woman who was wearing cat ears. I was on a time limit because I had to do this quickly and retract my steps before my appointment with a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner at two P.M later that day. I managed to find my hatred , my senses and a new found desire to attack any human with those fucking anime cat ears on their head and entered the office and was treated like a human being not a Cro Magnon sociopath who might try to kill people on the train, it was a nice change of pace honestly.

We talked about my past trauma and some of the diagnosis that where off base and some that came close to the mark but the main thing we talked about was the depression, the depression that had me looking for a gun as a treatment plan. This Nurse Practitioner pinpointed everything that I had to hide from others or train myself not to do in less than thirty minutes, Let me give you a bit of perspective.

Most of the mental health professionals I worked with in the past used a method I call flow chart counseling, example:

Therapist sees me walk into the door, therapist will ask if I drink if yes how many drinks in a week, if no move on to the next question. Therapist: Mister Cromag do you drink?

Me: yeah, I like a good beer, or wine I take a shinning to good bourbons as well.

“Therapist now flows to follow up questions”

Therapist: How many drinks per week?

Me: Well, I like to have a drink that pairs with my dinner and some weekends I’ll have a bit more during games or socialization depending on who’s around.

“Therapist now moves down to alcoholism”

Therapist: how long have you been an alcoholic?

Me: I’m sorry what?

Therapist: You binge drink Mister Cromag, more than four drinks per week means substance abuse.

Me: No it means I like the taste of a stout. “Moves down the chart to denial”

Therapist: We need to find you an addiction specialist.

Me: You think my drinking is bad, wait until I tell you about my porn collection.

After that exchange I was referred to a physical therapist to help with carpal tunnel and after a traumatized therapist had to call security all while frantically trying to find a flowchart for the psychotically horny they made a suggestion about me having an Oedipus complex.

So you now see what I mean, a lot of professionals never got to the heart of it and there are other stories where I’ve had the professionals all but sneer at me when my symptoms are presented. So this Nurse Practitioner was a nice change of pace and with the discussion about my issues, what I thought I might have been dealing with (sometimes people see that I do have some form of intelligence and not just hit thing with club real hard unga bunga) we then worked out what medication I needed to treat the thing I was dreading, being diagnosed with Bipolar 1.

Bipolar and ADHD share many of the same characteristics and as I’ve learned if you have one the other is more than likely there it just needs to be screened for. Bipolar is also a hereditary form of mental illness which makes it a bit unique where others are mostly trauma induced but Bipolar just kinda waits for something to happen and when nothing does it creates its own fun. To add to this good time Bipolar is classified as a “mood disorder” your highs are hyperactive boarderlining and often going into a full true manic state of mind and body, not nearly as fun as it sounds. Then the lows are soul crushing affairs that amplify the depression and then takes the lies you brain tells you and creates a story based on people around you, your fears, past trauma and then makes you this poisoned lullaby cake that tastes like candy feels like medicine until you fall to your knees paralyzed and the fangs sink into your back and you see too late what is having you for dinner tonight.

So that’s a quick and blurry on Bipolar 2, I have Bipolar 1 which means I get all of that plus the added fun of hallucinations, and not the type Terrence Mckenna taught us about. These are things that just manifest as if they are real life like if you were in a film and it was edited without warning and in this new situation you now have to improvise a reality, any reality, this is why I take *drugs prescribed and other. The other issue is that it feels like my memories get remixed and things that happened now have a new twist, a paranoid hurtful twist. Good example of this is when I was making a terminal wishlist and believed that there were people who truly wanted me to die because I interpreted their actions as malicious. Another example is I was walking home to the apartments around ten or twelve years ago, I was walking home at the time with groceries and when I got through the front door there was construction going on at the apartment above me. I sleep days and at best i’ll get four hours due to shit employer, new born child, a girlfriend that was Sybil the next generation who completely refused to get treatment because she was a psych major and thought she was the heroin to overcome all odds in a lifetime movie. So on top of this my mental illness is not in check, no insurance and if I mention medication at work I could get fired.

I wish this was a part I made up but I mentioned I was on antidepressants at one time and they removed me from two positions back to entry level until I got clean off celexa, Not allowed to do the fun drugs and then punished for using the boring ones no idea why I stayed there for eight and a half years.

Back to the construction, I get home try to put my groceries away and one of the workers says he needs to do something in the bedroom I tell him to get bent , he calls me a fat fuck and I proceed to beat him bloody! Except it never happened, I woke up beating my fist bloody onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I had started to put away my groceries until I jumped into this other reality, I’m just happy the kid wasn’t home because it might have scared her and made her cry and knowing I made her cry hurts the worst, I would have attempted that second suicide earlier. This freaked me out I’ve never had an hallucination like this I was scared, when I told then girlfriend hoping to get support or at least pointed in the direction on where to look she labeled me a schitzophrentic started talking to me as if I was going to flip out and that I was even more dangerous. I let that turn around in my head for years thinking that this was the linchpin to me being broken and with the way she talked to me I believed I didn’t deserve help. This was one of the main reasons I had to kill myself after she took my daughter away.

Like a few million other miserable , confused people out there I didn’t know a blessed thing about what was happening, I remembered the mental abuse and emotional abuse from the church, and some had argued physical and neglectful abuse I recieved at the hands of my family or my mother’s husbands who told my mother to no provide for me but instead buy him a new toy car. My step sister who somehow hates the knot headed reprobate more than I do stole his precious camaro and rear ended a Semi. After learning she was ok I fell on the floor laughing because all I could think about was this NASCAR addicted stunted man child calling his mommy to whine about a broken toy, to add to this mental image he was wearing a blue jean diaper and clutching a plush Richard Petty teddy bear.

There’s more but I don’t feel the need to talk about school bus drivers and me losing memory of one full year of my life, bullying at the hands of adults and children alike. I feel like that would be redundant and unfortunately all too common a story I’ve heard from so many people in my life, friends, lovers , coworkers the fucking homeless people who talk with me after I give them beer money. Leaving some of the genetic issues aside you bastards need to understand how wide spread some of these traumas are for fuck sake my motley of misfits are all walking trauma case studies and instead of getting help YOU people ridiculed them, or gave them the greatest useless sentence in the english language which is :

“Just get over it.”

Do you know what I would like to see? I want to see all of us survivors roaming the streets like that piss poor movie they claimed was a horror movie the Purge and with a list not unlike the list owned by the man that comes around Johnny Cash sang about during his song of the rapture, and I see men, women, and nonbinary people going to the address of those passive aggressive twits and beating them within an inch of their life, then carving into their chest (backwards) “get over it” then we move on to the homes of the rapists and tell them “you asked for this” before destroying their cocks with battery acid. The screams in the night would be glorious with the bats acting like percussion and the screams keyboard swells it would be like Front 242 unplugged. Maybe then the sniveling pretentious nra members out there will learn a bit. At best, it would be fair warning not to be passive aggressive asshole and learn a bit of compassion and mindfulness or to just get their heads out of their ass about battles they know nothing about if they want to avoid severe head trauma that one can not just simply get over.

Living with mental illness is not easy at any level whether a small bit of depression after a breakup or full blown PTSD after a brutal rape that leaves one unable to leave their house. Whomever has these afflictions are the ones suffering and your feelings of inconvenience or fear of those sufferers need to be thrown into the Willamette river, I would say you need to follow suit but there’s enough garbage in this river you can fuck off into a trash compactor.

Living is the hardest thing I do but I keep finding ways to stop the thoughts from taking over and I will and have done whatever it took to not die and sometimes the only way I was able to beat the mental illness was being bat shit insane. Some people think I’m a drug addict, others just think I need to talk to my old invisible friend, a few well meaning souls have suggested psychedelics and these people are pure and I will castrate any who try and stop them from their holy work from the almighty Bob. what I do need is to find that bitch with the **baseball bat and introduce them to a proper bonfire that I’m going to roast one of those little commie Cupidi on, oh yes I want my revenge for St Louis.

*the drugs in question are cannabis for the most part, when I’m spinning hard it helps tune me down and when the depression hits it shuts up the thoughts that plague me. Not a cure all nor is it a replacement for proper medication and therapy. I like to think of it a supplemental medicine that has the added effect of making Tool sound even more epic and letting me sleep peacefully.

** all wildy violent, funny and or cartoonish descriptions written about are there to be funny and entertaining no Cupidi do not exist and the Cat ear person does but the assault was less bloody and didn’t involve a bat but it was far more traumatizing.

#gvaf #bourbonsexual #mental illness #suicide #abuse #Gonzo Journalism

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bourbonandbadluck · 6 years ago

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Character Sheet: Declan Hane

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name: Declan Hane

Reason or Meaning of Name: Random last name, and I just really liked the name Declan for a Gilnean.

Character’s Nickname/Alias: Bastard, Dec, Scoundrel, The Beast of Bourbon.

Reason for Nickname/Alias: Dec sort of stands to reason as most people shorten names for nicknames. Bastard and Scoundrel because he tends to get labeled a lot and those were the more polite names he’s known by. The Beast of Bourbon was the nickname he got in the Cavalry. Nothing gains you a nickname better than drinking two cases of bourbon as a worgen.

Birth Date: January 18

Physical appearance

Age: 37

How old does he/she appear: Late twenties, early thirties. He’s fairly well preserved.

Weight: 190 pounds.

Height: 5'10″

Body build: For his size he’s fairly lean, well muscled and keeps himself in good shape due to work. Can’t climb or run if you’re gut gets in the way or you have shit for stamina.

Shape of face: Square-ish? Bit of an oval tossed in.

Eye color: Ocean Blue

Glasses or contacts: None

Skin tone: Pale (Let’s face it, he’s Gilnean) But tanned to a nice copper.

Distinguishing marks: Scar causing a gap in his right eyebrow, 18th Gilnean Cavalry Tattoo on his left Bicep. Light scars along his arms and legs from combat and general fuck ups. Tattoo from his sailing days on his chest and a compass on his forearm.

Predominant features: Everyone says it’s his hair.

Hair color: Sandy blond.

Type of hair: Thick and soft

Hairstyle: Short but not cropped, kept a little longer on top.

Voice: Mid range leaning towards the deeper spectrum, sort of gravelly.

Overall Attractiveness: General consensus is he’s very attractive.

Physical Disabilities: None

Usual Fashion of Dress: Casual and comfortable. Usually cotton shirts that breath, leather boots and comfortable pants of a cotton blend.

Favorite Outfit: His every day clothes?

Jewelry or Accessories: Besides four revolvers, he wears a braided leather necklace with a silver wire pendant housing soapstone carved into a compass, with a wedding band hanging beside it. He always has a black scarf as well and an old battered tin flask on his belt, engraved with a horse head and faded lettering beneath.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: Sense of humor (Perhaps too much of one), Good natured, easy going and fun loving. Opportunistic.

Bad Personality Traits: Trust issues and is emotionally constipated.

Mood Character is Most Often In: Always a good mood.

Sense of Humor: Sarcastic, witty and a little dark with a whole lot of goofy.

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Challenges and adventure. And because it goes without saying, @shaeli-dawson

Character’s Greatest Fear: Losing the one he loves, being betrayed. Terrified of deep water.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? If something were to happen to Shaeli ( @shaeli-dawson )

Character Is Most at Ease When: He’s generally always at ease, but he’s most at ease when he’s enjoying time with Shaeli.

Most Ill at Ease When: Dealing with his own emotions, when he’s had a nightmare or forced to think about his son and his past.

Enraged When: Someone steals from him, or someone harms Shaeli (Running theme here.)

Depressed or Sad When: Thinking about his son, the what if’s and what could have beens. Thinking about home.

Life Philosophy: “Life be an adventure, so live.”

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: He has everything he could wish for.

Character’s Soft Spot: Kids, those who have been abused.

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others? With kids, yes.

Greatest Strength: Professionalism, sense of humor and his ability to conceal his thoughts and emotions.

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Emotions. And now Shaeli ( @shaeli-dawson)

Biggest Regret: Not fighting harder to see his son.

Minor Regret: None.

Biggest Accomplishment: To him, every day is his biggest accomplishment, and he tends to celebrate it.

Minor Accomplishment: Learning cartography.

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: He claims to have never been caught. But what people fail to realize is that he’s never been caught in Stormwind. He spent time in the brig on the ship he worked on after being caught cheating at cards, and spent time in prison in Gilneas City after inciting a bar brawl that caused significant property damage to the bar and surrounding buildings.

Character’s Darkest Secret: After his first shift, he not only killed the two men he had been locked up with, he ate them.

Does Anyone Else Know? The only ones who knew were killed in the flooding.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: He’s driven by challenge, to see if he can do it, and the lust for adventure, to see and map the world. Thieving offers a perfect challenge.

Immediate Goals: Working up the nerve to tell Shaeli he loves her again.

Long Term Goals: Continue mapping the continents, spending his life with Shaeli.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Already on the road to it. it helps that he has someone in his life that enjoys it all as much as he does.

How Other Characters Will Be Affected: Only one person would be affected, and he hopes that she joins him on the adventure.

Past

Hometown: Gilnean Coast

Type of Childhood: Son of a fisherman. Typical childhood.

Pets: None

First Memory: Catching a bee with his bare hands and getting stung and not understanding why it happened.

Most Important Childhood Memory:

Childhood Hero: He never had one.

Dream Job: he wanted to captain his own ship.

Education: Elementary and apprenticed to completion as a cartographer.

Religion: Believes in the nature Gods when it suits his purpose.

Finances: Off and on thanks to a nasty gambling habit.

Present

Current Location: Stormwind City

Currently Living With: Shaeli Dawson. Yes he’s pretty much moved in.

Pets: None

Religion: See above

Occupation: Cartographer, Professional Thief, Tomb Raider/ Adventurer.

Finances: Fairly wealthy thanks to sticky fingers and a love of challenges and shiny things. It’s spread out through several banks.

Family

Siblings: Two brothers and a sister. Unknown if they are alive or not.

Relationship With Them: Non-existant

Spouse: He’s panicking in between considering Shaeli a spouse and asking her to be his.

Relationship With Them: Shaeli somehow managed to break through Declan’s self proclaimed ‘eternal bachelorhood’ and fear of relationships. It started as purely work, then a fun fling and grew into something more until they both awkwardly fumbled through their feelings for each other and gave it a try. He recently got the nerve to tell her that he loves her. Where it goes from here? Only time will tell!

Children: He has one son.

Relationship With Them: He’s never met him.

Other Important Family Members: None, he’s alone.

Favorites

Color: Gold (He’s a thief, what can I say?)

Least Favorite Color: Olive.

Music: Gilnean step music, tavern songs and Sea Shanties.

Food: Pretty much if it’s edible, he eats it. (See his cooking talents for more info)

Literature: Histories, Fairy tales (They often hold truths) and Maps.

Form of Entertainment: Dancing, stealing, drinking, and people watching, sex.

Expressions: Large grins and wry smirks.

Mode of Transportation: Mostly foot, and horseback.

Most Prized Possession: The battered tin flask he keeps on his belt.

Habits

Hobbies: Dancing, stealing, drinking, Sex, Cartography, Singing.

Plays a musical instrument? He’s a fair hand with a fiddle.

Plays a sport? Long distance running (Away from the law)

How she would spend a rainy day? Drinking, lounging with Shaeli, or teaching her how to puddle jump and mud wrestle.

Spending Habits: He’s a notorious gambler, beyond that he simply takes what he needs.

Smokes: On occasion.

Drinks: To excess

Other Drugs: Nope

What does he/she do too much of? Gambles and drinks far too much. Risk taker.

What does he/she do too little of? He really should eat more.

Extremely Skilled At: Geometry, theft, negotiating, cartography.

Extremely Unskilled At: Cooking.

Nervous Tics: None.

Usual Body Posture: At ease and relaxed. He tends to drape when he sits or lean against walls.

Mannerisms: Friendly, wouldn’t know formal if it bit him in the ass, A bit crass.

Peculiarities: It’s Declan, he’s a walking peculiarity.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist

Introvert or Extrovert? Extrovert.

Daredevil or Cautious? Both, depending on the situation.

Logical or Emotional? Extremely Logical.

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Declan is meticulously neat. Everything has it’s place and is completely spotless. It’s not so much an OCD as it is a form of professional security for himself.

Prefers Working or Relaxing? To him, his work is relaxing.

Confident or Unsure of Themselves? Some would say he’s over confident. He is, however, incredibly unsure of his feelings.

Animal lover? He’s part animal! Of course he loves them!

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: “I’m bloody fantastic if you’s askin’ m’self!”

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: “Interestin’”

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “Were told once f’hat life nae be easy, s’posed t’be hard n’you’s nae get nae’where unless you’s work hard at it. But all I’s ever saw were folk workin’ f’hemselves t’deaf’h. Life meant t’be lived! You’s got t’love it, n’live it, ‘cause you’s nae ever gonna know when it end on you’s. Love t’challenge o’it, n’new f’hings t’world got t’offer. Wann see it, know it. N’I’s gonna love every minute o’it!”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Easy going and fun.

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? “Can’nae f’hink o’any.”

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? His eyes, and he uses them to his advantage frequently.

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? He’s pretty happy with himself.

How does the character think others perceive him/her? It’s about fifty fifty between being perceived as annoying, or fun/exciting to be around. He knows some enjoy his quirks and others find them grating.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? He’s pretty happy with himself.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: He doesn’t trust anyone, but he see’s everyone as useful to him in some way.

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Bet your booty!

Person Character Most Hates: No one.

Best friend(s): Shaeli Dawson ( @shaeli-dawson), Kat Hawke ( @kat-hawke ), Safrona Shadowsun ( @safrona-shadowsun - though she probably doesn’t know that)

Love interest(s): Shaeli Dawson ( @shaeli-dawson

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Safrona most likely just to see if she would say anything in regards to hersel.

Person Character Feels Responsible For: Shaeli Dawson (Who else is going to remind her to sleep, and eat, and relax!)

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: No one.

Person Character Openly Admires: No one.

Person Character Secretly Admires: Kat Hawk ( @kat-hawke But he would never let on about it.)

Tagged by: No one.

Tagging: Hell, anyone who wants to do it! Let’s see what you people got!

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strawberry-jules · 4 years ago

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the fourth

hi again. it’s 10:41pm.

today was a fucking shit show. like appallingly so. my schedule was supposed to roughly look like this:

6-7am: get up, get ready, go get coffee

8-9: vet appt

9-10: breakfast, clean the kitchen for mom

10-11: post office, quick target run

11.30-4pm: read 2 chapters from textbook

4-5.30: run, shower, etc

5.30-7.30: read half a chapter, take some me time, idk

9pm-11pm: vibe time baybee

here’s how it turned out, roughly.

got coffee, it was very fun. barista is making it very hard to not have a crush on them by simply existing. how rude! took belle to the vet, everything was fine and dandy, as i figured. came home, had a bagel with spinach and eggs, cleaned the kitchen, it was fantastic. my brother ended up needing to ship out his christmas gift to his friend in croatia, but his classes weren’t over until 1:30, so i was like no worries! i’ll just go study for my final till your classes are over, just let me know. i ended up reading absolutely nothing and getting sucked into whatever fucking dumb shit exists on the internet. i also picked 3 therapists from our network and emailed them, introducing myself, and asking for quick interviews next week to see if we’re good fits, because i want to start going to therapy.

i was very excited by this development. it’s taken me over a year of saying i would go to therapy for me to finally get the courage to reach out. at about 12, i went into my parents’ room and said “guess what? i’m finally starting therapy!” and my mother, without missing a beat, says “oh, sorry we did such a bad job raising you. why do you need therapy? i thought we did a great job.” i was fucking stunned. i was like, “woah, no! this isn’t a reflection of you. this is me finally taking care of myself, i have personal things i need to work through. however, i do think that therapy is useful to anyone, and i think everyone should try therapy, at least once,” to which she had the brilliant insight, “there’s nothing wrong with me. should i just make something up about my family and go talk to a stranger about it? is that what you’re doing?” and my dad was like, “hey, that’s not what she’s saying” and my mom basically went off saying that i was weird for thinking that everyone should try therapy, and that i didn’t actually need it, and that it’s weird that i’ve been to therapy twice now, wasn’t complaining to that high school counselor that my parents were so strict enough for me?

those quotes are as close to word for word as i can get, i’m pretty sure it’s exactly what was said. the conversation lasted less than a minute, before i said “i think i need to excuse myself,” and walked away. i came and sat at my desk for i don’t even know how long. i looked at myself in my phone camera, and my face had become so translucent, it was almost green from my blood veins. i walked up to my window and contemplated trying to take the screen out to climb out, but i realized that if i did jump, it would be in my neighbor’s driveway, and that felt really insensitive, so i walked away. i sat back down at my desk and contemplated all the reasons my mom was right, before i realized that she wasn’t right. i have finally realized that i’m not fine.

i’m a depressed, suicidal 20 year old with undiagnosed adhd and ocd, a diagnosed eating disorder, and i’ve been a closeted lesbian for 13 years. i have every right to feel not okay. i didn’t need my mother’s permission to go to therapy, i have my own health insurance and i’m an adult who feels the need to ask for help, and that’s okay.

so i did what i do best, and spewed verbal diarrhea onto my private snap story about what happened and how i’ve been feeling these last few days. my brother’s classes ended early, so i took the opportunity to leave the house as soon as possible, and we took as long as possible to get to the fedex drop box, before i dropped him back at home and kept driving around, trying to process how i felt. i didn’t return either of my textbooks. i think i’m just going to send the one i bought in october after christmas, idk when it’s due but i can’t deal with the fucking lines at the post office anymore. i walked up to the post office, looked at the winding line into a building where the lovely hicks in my hometown refuse to wear masks, decided i wasn’t ready to get covid yet, and went to deposit cash so i could buy weed. i’ll just bite the $40 and buy the one that was due today, maybe i’ll give it to someone next semester.

i got home and responded to my friends’ responses to my story. i got an overwhelmingly positive and loving response from my friends. every single one stuck up for me, supported me, and shared that they’ve been feeling similarly. which is heartbreaking, i can’t believe that all of us have been dealing with this so privately! but anyway, that’s a tomorrow issue.

after i did that, i was ordering my weed when barista texted me, saying they had a question for me, which, when you have a major crush on a coworker with a girlfriend, is a very concerning text to receive. turns out, they just made me earrings! they walked their dog to my house and delivered the insanely cool polymer clay snake earrings. when i greeted them with a hug, they pulled me in so close, literally every part of their body was pressed against mine and my cheek rested on their head so perfectly. they’re on the shorter side, probably 3-4 inches shorter than me, but so strong. the way their arms felt around my back was wild, it was so tight but so gentle but so firm but so, so warm and soft. their hair was soft but frizzy and smelled like them and a little bit like an argan oil shampoo and a little like coffee. their eyes are so much more intensely ice blue in the sun. they hugged me the same way goodbye, and we chatted for a good portion of the evening, about our coworkers and being homeschooled and being nerdy high schoolers and the earrings.

i finally got one chapter done before dinner was ready at 8:30pm, which is late, even by our standards. after dinner, as i was decorating a sugar cookie named gerard, my parents kept making snarky comments about me being a stoner, and i was like yes, bold statements coming from the parents that just used my account to buy a tincture and edibles. anyway, i came upstairs and tried to read more but i’m too emotionally exhausted. eve ended up giving me a call, finally, and filled me in on her life, which is always crazy but i love to hear her voice, so it’s okay. then i learned a tiktok dance, which left me concerningly out of breath, considering it’s only been like 4 days since i ran and i can’t be that out of shape? but i showered and did my skincare routine and made sure my laundry was in the dryer before i sat down to start this.

it’s now 11:20pm, and i’m very proud to report that i am no longer angry with my mother for what she said to me. i’m sad that it’s how she feels, but i recognize that what i’m going through is something she will never understand, as a straight woman who, while prudish, has a healthy relationship with drugs and sex. i love her, and i forgive her, but i’m going to talk to her tomorrow and hold her accountable for gaslighting her already unstable daughter. what she did wasn’t fair, and it hurt. i know she probably feels insecure because she definitely does have things she knows she should go to therapy for, i know for a fact that she faced a lot of childhood and adolescent trauma and i would personally love to make sure she’s in a healthy place with it. but i can’t force her to, obviously, so i have to just hope that she doesn’t project on to me too much in the coming weeks.

i’m exhausted, and i think i’ll go to bed. i feel good about how i handled today, i caught myself in time to think through my actions before i did something completely unwarranted and unhinged. i know that at the time, my brain was in flight mode and i couldn’t cope immediately so i just followed the “i want to die” instinct because it was the strongest, but i still had enough of my logical brain in gear to have forethought. look at you go, prefrontal cortex! knowing that the part of me that is still healthy and wants to live is strong enough to put the kibosh on that maneuver is enough to give me hope that i will be okay someday. i never thought that i would be someone to be experiencing things like this. i really thought that people were being dramatic, if i’m being totally honest. now that i’m experiencing it, i understand. i’m sorry that i didn’t have more empathy.

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minhoslut · 4 years ago

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♡ summary: You are on your first solo mission to collect samples from an asteroid, but that is soon ended when three unknown beings enter your ship and take you to their planet.

♡ pairing: Jung Jaehyun x fem!reader, Johnny Suh x fem!reader, Nakamoto Yuta x fem!reader, JohnJaeYu also are together

♡ chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | ? |

♡ series warnings: blood mention, drug use, mxm, foursome, swearing, anxiety, depression

♡ series genre: fluff, smut, slight angst

♡ series rating: R

♡ word count: 1565

♡ posted on: AO3

♡ chapter three: purple rain

Up in the treehouse that apparently belonged to Taeyong, you found said man as well as three new people. “Ah, Y/N, it is good to see you are still conscious.” Taeyong said, a light smile on his lips. You rubbed your neck awkwardly, feeling slightly nervous as the new men were staring intensely at you. “Introduce yourselves, you idiots.” Jaehyun sighed from your left, prompting the tallest of the new men to introduce himself. “Hello, I am Doyoung, this is Jungwoo, and this is Kun.” He stated gesturing to the other two as well. “It’s nice to meet you all.” You murmured, still feeling shy because they were scanning your figure intently now. Taeyong gestured for you to come forward and you did so, looking at Yuta quickly before going and receiving an encouraging smile.

“So I hear you were unable to consume the offered foods?” Taeyong remarked, reaching out to you and bringing you close. “Open.” He said and you followed his command, showing your teeth to him. “Hmm. I’m afraid that trying to crush what we absorb from won’t be an option. From what I have observed of Earth, you need much softer foods than anything we could provide.” You could feel the now familiar panic rising in your chest at his words. “We have been testing several methods to extract the nutrients into some form edible for the human but have been unsuccessful.” Doyoung added, his lips set in a thin line. “We have a... theory of sorts though.” Kun said slowly, motioning to Jungwoo who pulled a pink container of sorts filled with some kind of purple substance. “Do you really think that of all things wou-” Johnny was interrupted by a sharp glare from Taeyong. “We wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t necessary Johnny, you know this.” Kun stated.

“Why is it such a strange thing to offer? What even is that stuff?” You questioned, very confused by the whole conversation. “Well, it is used to give a fetus nutrients to that it may grow and hatch from its egg.” Johnny tried to explain but got cut off again,by Doyoung this time. “It would be produced in a similar way to how a human male creates semen.” The room went silent and you looked from one face to the other, looking for a hint of a joke, but there were none. “So it’s… cum? Like from a dick? Whose dick- How- Hold on a second.” You tried to figure out what to even ask, how had they even thought to try this? “I know it may seem off putting, but we believe you will be able to absorb the nutrients like an egg would.” Jungwoo told you softly, resting a cool hand on your arm.

“How would I even, get it regularly? And from who?” You asked trying to think logically, if this was how you had to survive then you should at least know the details. “Well I’m sure anyone would be happy to provide it, you do have three vleskans in your home presently, as well as any of us or probably anyone else in the village, it’s not like it’s a bad experience to get it, I mean-” “That’s enough, Jungwoo, I’m sure she gets the point.” Taeyong interrupted, silencing him with a hand up. How fucking awkward. Now you had to not only live with these three strange creatures, now you had to live off their cum? This felt like a fever dream that you were desperate to wake up from.

“It’ll be ok Y/N, we can figure this out!” Yuta tried to encourage you, but you were just standing silently, trying to process the whole situation. Everything just kept getting worse, now you were going to be drinking cum as your source of food. Tears welled up in your eyes and you clenched your fists tightly. “Why did you have to bring my to this stupid fuckign planet?! I hate it here I hate all of you! You’ve ruined my whole life!” You shouted angrily, shoving past the group of vleskans and climbing down the ladder. You heard them calling after you, but just started running as fast as you could, deep into the woods. The wind whipped your tears away as you ran, branches smacking you and clawing at the robe you wore. Eventually the voices faded behind you, but you kept running with your head down.

You slammed into the ground as you tripped on a root, and just lay there crying into the dirt. The air grew cold around you and you curled into yourself. Covered in scratches from the branches, some deeper and bleeding. The robe was dirty and torn, the front covered in blood from your nose that had started bleeding after your fall. Your body ached and you couldn’t tell where you were, the sun had set at some point and it was now getting darker every moment. Wiping at your face, you looked at your dirt and blood covered hands and wondered if it was worth it to even try to be found. Why not just stay here until you died?

But that wasn’t how you wanted things to end. You took a deep breath and stood up, crying out in pain as you put pressure on your left foot. “Fuck.” You muttered, you must have fucked it up when you fell. You looked around you and tried to find some kind of way to tell where you were. You spotted a large root, which must have been what you tripped on and decided to limp in that direction. Eventually, it was virtually pitch black and you were still hobbling through the dark forest, but now you could hear rustling in the bushes surrounding you. It was an ominous reminder that you had no clue what kind of creatures inhabited this planet, the thought sending a shiver down your spine.

Crunching sounds came closer and you gasped when a figure came into view. “Johnny!” You cried, throwing yourself into his chest and grasping at the fabric of his robe. His long arms wrapped around you and held you tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into the top of your head. You pulled away and winced at the pain from your ankle, which Johnny immediately noticed. “You are hurt? And this,” he touched your lips, “blood?” Suddenly you were being carried in his arms and he was walking briskly, taking you back to the village.

You must have fallen asleep because when you woke up you were once again lying on the white fur of the ‘hospital’ treehouse. You sat up slowly, your body protesting against it, aching in every sense. “Y/N! Let’s take a look at you now that you’re awake.” Kun smiled, as he walked into the room. He gently wiped your face clean with a small piece of cloth, “I need to examine you fully, so I’d like you to remove your robe. Humans are scared of this sometimes, is it ok?” He asked calmly. You nodded slowly, he was basically like a doctor after all. You breathed quickly as you stood to remove it, your ankle sending a sharp pain as a warning. “Let me.” Kun reached over and pulled the robe over your head. He cleansed your body with the cloth and bowl of liquid that was a crystal blue colour.

When he was happy that you were clean, he put some kind of lotion onto your various cuts, and bandages on the few deeper ones. Next he wrapped your ankle securely, and finally gave you a new robe to wear. “You won’t be able to walk on that for at least 3 days.” He told you firmly, leaving no room for argument. “I will take you back to your dwelling, I made the three leave me to care for you so that we wouldn’t be interrupted. Before you go though, I’d like you to try the, solution we came up with.” You blushed as he called for Jungwoo who came in with a warm smile and a cup of the purple cum. He handed it to you, and then stood back with Kun. You took a deep breath and took a sip of it.

It was thick, and smooth. Not at all like human cum, not sweet either though, it was hard to describe, but it actually tasted… good? You finished the rest and tried not to think of it’s source, but curiosity got the better of you. “Uhm, whose, uh, whose is this?” You stuttered out,feeling your face heat up. “Taeyong.” Kun answered evenly, taking your cup and handing it back to Jungwoo before picking you up and heading to the door. He placed you on his hip, like a mother would carry her infant, supporting your back with one arm and golding the ladder with the other. You mused to yourself that he was much stronger than he looked, you felt secure in his hold.

You were nervous as he carried you to your ‘home’, afraid of what they would say to you. What if they were angry? Or if they hated you? Why do you care if they did or not? Your heart started to beat faster as Kun climbed up the ladder. Taking a deep breath before he entered the room, with you situated in his arms.

#nct #nct x reader #johnny suh #nakamoto yuta #jung jaehyun #a piece of ptego

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shortiegardengnome · 8 years ago

Text

I Need a Hug - Dan and Phil

This is something i wrote when i was feeling extremely down and could seriously use a hug from my favourite YouTubers.

Genre: fluff.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: None.

Today was a truly shit day. From start to finish I had run into nothing but misfortune. It all started with a mistake that I will readily admit; I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and today I had to get up at 5:30am. Why on Earth did I think that I would be able to function on 4 hours of sleep when I had a huge day today I couldn’t tell you. All I can tell you is that It was entirely due to my lack of self-restraint. Last night I was up in the wee hours of the morning, surprisingly not on Tumblr but on skype chatting to my two favourite people on the planet, Dan and Phil. Now, they would’ve completely understood if I had to cut the conversation short because I needed sleep; hell if they knew what god forsaken hour I had to get up today they’d probably tell me to go the fuck to sleep then promptly hang up on me. But alas, I didn’t tell them and I couldn’t cut the conversation short because frankly, I’m a glutton for their company and a masochist when it comes to my sleeping schedule so we were up seriously late. Well, late for me.

So of course when the demonic sound of my alarm clock ripped through my sleep and quite happy dreams like a chainsaw through curtains I was not happy. I blearily opened my eyes, squinting in the darkness and hating myself a little for the decisions I made last night. Deciding that the only way I was going to get out of bed was the painful way I reached over with a shaking hand and turned on my bedside lamp. Resisting the urge to hiss and hide beneath the blankets I stared at that evil light and my hand still gripping it until my eyes no longer hurt. Now that my retinas were burned to a crisp I had to face my next challenge, stepping out of my warm cocoon and into the blizzard of my house. I sighed dramatically, this was going to take a while. I reached for my phone as a method of procrastination as turned off my alarm, reading the numbers spelling out the time I whimpered a little at my fate.

I sat up a little with a groan; throwing my arms above my head I arched my back and stretched as far as I could. I loved the feel of my non-existent muscles stretching and relaxing after a sleep. The chill of the air nibbled at my arms and hands and I dropped them back in my lap before cracking my neck. Okay, here’s what I will do. My inner-voice took on a motivational tone. You will figure out what you’re going to wear while your still in bed, then it will be a race to launch myself out of bed collect my clothes and sprint into a hot shower. Let’s hope I can do this. I went through a mental catalogue of my wardrobe vs. what’s in the laundry and tried to figure out what the hell I would be wearing today. I decided on my favourite pair of high waisted denim jeans, a button up red and black check top with three quarter sleeves and a cream scarf which I would wear with knee high brown boots and my brown leather satchel. Of course I would grab my black leather jacket as well for the cold. Taking stock of what I would need I made to fling myself out of bed and land gracefully on my feet and make a run for my clothes; so of course It didn’t work like that. Instead of landing on my feet, my foot got stuck in the sheets and I tumbled down to the ground, m face being squished quite thoroughly into the carpet. My muffled swearing sounded garbled in the carpets soft fabric. Since that was a massive flop I pushed myself off the floor and yanked my foot out of the sheets. It came free easier than I expected and I was sent careening back into the floor. At least I landed on my back this time. I got up for the third time and managed to only stub my toes on my bed when collecting my clothes. My shower went without incident. I imagine the mischief fairies who made their lives in my apartment realised that any accident I could have in the shower would be deadly so they left me alone. They however decided that as soon as I was out of the shower I was fair game as thrice I burnt myself on my hair straightener; and don’t even get me started with how many times I accidently poked myself in the eye while doing my make-up.

I left the bathroom trying to resist rubbing my eyes. I knew they were sore as all hell but if I did give in temptation then I would smudge everything and have to start all over again and I sure as hell wasn’t going to risk poking myself in the eye again. I walked into the kitchen determined that today would get better from now on. Especially once I got a mug of tea into my system. While I completely understood why some people lived off coffee, hey I can’t blame them for needing the caffeine… I for one wish I liked coffee but I juts didn’t, so of a morning I settled for a good cup of tea. Pulling out my massive mug with the words “grumpy old man” written on it (something Phil brought me for my birthday, and to this day he still finds it hilarious) I turned the kettle on and searched the cupboards for something edible for breakfast. I managed to scrounge around long enough to find some yoghurt and fruit that was edible, which I consider a win; especially when you consider how long I have procrastinated going grocery shopping, I would do it online but I have a deep mistrust of buying online sometimes. Besides, it makes me leave the house.

I pour the boiling water into the mug and add the milk to the already added tea bag and sugar and stirred. I put some yoghurt in a bowl and added strawberries and blueberries to the mix. Picking up my mug and bowl I went to the lounge room to watch some TV. Managing not to trip on the way had quickly become the first positive of my day. It was quickly ruined by spilling hot tea all over my fingers. I swore loudly and ran to the sink drenching my fingers in cold water. “Dammit.” I hissed through my teeth my fingers going slightly numb from the cold water, the heat from the burns being sucked out of my skin. When I felt the heat was all taken out of my fingers I pulled them away from the sink, grabbed a tea-towel and icepack and wrapped them up before returning to my breakfast.

The rest of the day went much the same way. I was in a constant state of atrocious clumsiness, constantly tripping over the smallest of objects; dropping almost everything that came into my hands and accidently running into people. I was an absolute mess today and the day was just too long and filled with too many opportunities to make a complete idiot of myself. I also spent the day apologizing to everyone I harmed in my frenzy of flailing limbs and unsteady hands. So much so that I had the entire apology memorized. Now it was finally the end of the work day and the mean comments muttered about me as I made my way out of the building each created a chink in my armour of self-control. I was on the brink of teas as I exited onto the street and made my way to the taxi bay. Usually I didn’t listen to those comments but rather made an effort to block out my surroundings until I got home; but today I was just too bone tired and I couldn’t find the energy in my reserves to block out everything. I bit my lip to hold and the tears and prayed that my voice wouldn’t wobble when I asked the driver to take me to my home address. I received a funny look in the rear-view mirror but he didn’t ask any questions… for that I was thankful.

I leaned back into the chair and tried to think about nothing, I focused on the feel on the seat beneath my head and the scratchy material pressing itself against my palms. I let my breaths become long a deep and visualised the path the oxygen took. My calming methods were working perfectly, I could feel the tears receding and the stress working its way out of my shoulders. I let out a deep sigh and tried to keep going. The shrill noise of my phone ringing jolted me out of my state abruptly. I jolted in my seat and made a mad scramble to find my phone in my seemingly bottomless bag. I pawed my way through the contents pushing objects from side to side but of course at the very bottom beneath so tissues sat my phone still going off and vibrating like mad. I lunged for the phone seeing that it was a call from Dan. The phone fell out of my hands a couple more times before I got a good grip on it and I hurriedly answered the phone.

“Hello?” my voice sounded unsteady even to me, he was definitely going to be able to tell something was up.

“Hey Y/N.” his greeting came softly through the phone as if he were trying to make his voice sound as gentle and as caring as possible. It wasn’t exactly helping my ‘don’t cry until you get home’ situation. My lip wobbled and I bit it to stop myself from crying further. “What’s wrong?” he knew without words that I was on the brink of crying.

“N-nothing.” The first tear fell and I started shaking in my seat, little sniffles escaping from my nose.

Silence reined on the other side as I cried as quietly as I could. I didn’t feel like I could talk to Dan properly without giving away what was actually happening. Without warning there was a scuffle on the other side of the phone it sounded like people playing tug of war with something before a voice interrupted the noise.

“Y/N where are you?” Phil obviously stole Dan’s phone to talk to me.

“In a taxi on my way home,” I mumbled trying desperately to keep my tears out of my voice, I didn’t want to bring them down into my depressing mood with me. They didn’t need that in their lives, they were already so busy as it was. Their lives on the internet and as radio show hosts was very demanding on their lives. I didn’t want to add my bad day into the mix, they needed to focus on keeping their lives in order so they both could have some time to themselves without going crazy.

“Tell the driver to bring you to our address.” Phil’s tone brooked no argument, didn’t mean I wasn’t still going to argue.

I took a moment to control myself before saying “You really don’t have to do that Phil… I’m fine.” I was proud that my voice wobbled only a little. Another scuffle happened on the other side of the phone, this time I could tell it meant that they were switching who had the phone.

“Either you come over here or we break into your house. No matter what you’re seeing us tonight, so I suggest you pick the easier option.” Dan threatened into the phone and I knew without a doubt those knuckle heads would at least attempt to follow through with their threat. I couldn’t really see them being able to break down my door but I could definitely see them showing up and attempting to, and when they inevitably failed at breaking down my door they would hammer their hands on it until I got annoyed and let them in so they would knock it off. Believe it or not it had happened before. At a completely unreasonable hour too. I sighed and then told the driver the change in location. He smiled at me and let me know that it wasn’t a problem and that we would be there in a couple of minutes.

Dan and Phil must’ve heard what the driver said because all I got in reply was a “Good girl!” before they hung up. I sighed for the umpteenth time today. I seriously was a sucker when it came to those two, lord only knew that I certainly couldn’t say no to them. Though there was a time when I could say no, but that was back when I hardly knew them, and we had only just met; plus, I never actually said the word ‘no.’ just some persuasion of it. But I can openly admit I was a completely marshmallow for the two gentle giants from the beginning. Something about Phil’s happy and kind demeanour and Dan’s constant state of sarcasm and dimples that just made my heart melt around those two. If they knew what effect, they had on e I doubt they’d take advantage of it… at least not anymore so than they do now.

Before I knew it, the car rolled to a stop at the curb and I blinked out of my reverie. I leant forward and paid the driver and made sure to thank him for changing course without any complaining. He smiled and wished me a good night. I gathered my things in my hands and just as I was reaching for the door handle, to door of the taxi was yanked open and I was pulled out with a swiftness that rivalled ninjas. The thump of the car door closing and the Taxi taking off was the last things I saw before I was enveloped in a hug. Both Dan and Phil wrapped their arms around me and squeezed me close until we resembled a human sandwich. I clenched my hands in their jumpers and pulled them close into me as I felt the tears I had managed to get under control pouring out of my eyes once again. “Dammit” I muttered into the black jumper –which I assumed belonged to Dan for obvious reasons- I had my faced smushed into.

The boys pulled back and took a look at my miserable face. “Come on,” Dan said kindly and Phil draped his arm across my shoulders. “Let’s go inside.” I managed a smile at the two as they led me into their apartment.

That night we all stayed up late talking, playing video games and doing whatever else came to mind. When I tried to go home, the boys just about tackled me to the ground insisting I stay over. I ended up borrowing a hoodie and a way too big jumper and we all fell asleep curled up on the couch. Today started off truly shit, but it ended in one of the most peaceful and content ways that I’ve ever known. That is why I am so glad I’m friends with Dan and Phil.

#dnp #dan and phil #dan howell #dan howell imagine #dan howell fanfic #dan howell fanfiction #danisnotonfire #danisnotonfire fanfic #danisnotonfire fanfiction #amazingphil fanfic #amazingphil fanficiton #amazingphil imagine #phil lester fanfiction #phil lester fanfic #phil lester imagine #amazingphil #phil lester #phillester #SGG writes

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seriestrash · 8 years ago

Text

The Story of Us

Prologue ||

✮ Chapter One: The Weekend ✮

Word Count: 3055

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

Friday evening

If there was any part of Riley that thought her parents were using the ‘sending her away’ argument as an empty threat again that’s certainly not the case anymore as Riley sulks at the back of a bus as it leaves the airport she just arrived at.

The worst part about it was that Riley was packed and sent off in a matter of days. Part of the punishment was that Riley wasn’t even allowed to see her friends before she left.

With her head resting against the glass window Riley stares out and watches as the view fades from city to country and if she wasn’t so bitter about the forced lifestyle change then she might of actually enjoyed the scenic drive.

The bus pulls into the station - if you could call an old wooden bench with a sign that reads ‘bus station’ a station. Riley gets off the bus with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. When her feet hit the dirt road beneath her Riley sees nothing but trees and wide open fields. Awkwardly she stands there not knowing what to do but once the bus pulls away Riley spots a hardened looking man resting again a car just up the road. With a heavy sigh she treks over to him.

“Riley,” He nods once she approaches.

“Grandpa,” Riley says in a mock excited voice.

“Get in,” He grunts, not appreciating her sarcasm as he relieves her of the duffle bag and tosses it in his boot. Riley climbs in the passenger seat and they’re on their way.

“You don’t have to call me grandpa,” The man clears his throat, “You can call me Jedediah or whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Sure thing, Jed,” Riley says flatly and out the window her eyes find a large sign.

‘Welcome to Hillford Creek, Austin Texas’

“Oh boy,” she says quietly with a sigh.

On the drive in, Riley passes a rather large looking farm. From what she could see anyway. It was getting later and darkness was quickly blanketing the sky. Once Jedediah pulls up out front of his house Riley gets out and closes the car door behind herself. She takes a moment to absorb her surroundings. The street didn’t exactly look suburban but it wasn’t exactly the tumbleweed town Maya described it would be when they cried about the punishment over the phone together. Each house seemed to have a small amount of property belonging to them as none of the neighbours were directly side by side.

“You coming inside or what?” Jed huffs and Riley turns her attention towards his house rather than the ones surrounding it.

It didn’t appear to Riley that Jed maintained his property in anyway. The grass surrounding is overgrown, the wooden house itself looks rundown, even the mailbox out the front was battered and hanging on by a loose nail.

Riley takes a deep breath and follows her estranged grandparent inside and up the creaky wooden steps to her room.

“Is this really all you brought?” Jed croaks as he rests Riley’s duffle bag down on the floor.

“Mom and dad said they’d send a few more of my things soon,” Riley says awkwardly.

“Alright,” The man nods. “Do you need anything to eat or whatever?”

“No, I ate on the plane,” Riley answers.

“Okay, well goodnight,” Jed says and without another word he turns and leaves.

“Okay…” Riley says to herself as she stares after the strange old man.

Riley walks around the room, it’s smaller than her room back home. Very dated. Old floral wallpaper, a tall mahogany wardrobe that looked ancient. The room smelt like moth balls so Riley goes over to the window to let some fresh air in she's pleasantly surprised to see that the tall glass windows were actually doors that opened out onto a small balcony that overlooked the yard and into the one on either side of her. Even though those houses were still a small distance away. The backyard mirrored the front with the overgrown grass and overall depressing vibe. Riley lets out a sigh and returns inside where she sits herself down on the bed. The covers felt scratchy and the mattress seemed solid beneath her. Her unimpressed nature can be slightly justified by the unimpressive environment but Riley’s lack of desire to be there at all contributes to a lot of her negative sulking.

Riley opens her bag and pulls out a framed photograph of her and Maya. With a heavy sigh and a sad smile she rests it on the table beside the bed. Exhausted and emotionally drained from the trip Riley quickly falls asleep.

✮ ✮ ✮

Lucas climbs down the tree holding his old fort and sneaks around the side of his home to meet his cousins out front.

“Hey Luke,” Tristan gives him a nod.

“Does Jed have family here?” Lucas asks before formally greeting anyone.

“What are you talking about?” Thomas gives him a quizzical look.

“I swear I saw a girl out on the balcony,” Lucas explains.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just him?” Tristan asks.

“Yes, I’m sure it wasn’t just him.” Lucas glares.

“It’s a fair point,” Thomas nudges Lucas’ arm with his elbow, “I swear the mans only left that house three times in the ten years he’s lived there... Maybe you’ve just forgotten what he looks like..”

“Okay I’m almost certain he doesn’t look like a young girl,” Lucas folds his arms.

“Like young enough to date?” Thomas smirks.

“I don’t know,” Lucas gives him an unimpressed look, “It’s not like our properties are right next door.”

“Maybe it was a ghost?” Tristan teases.

“Or maybe he’s holding a girl captive?” Thomas adds and the twins chuckle together.

“So not funny,” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“Wait, Tommy!” Tristan pats his brothers chest, “Didn’t mom say something about some city girl starting at school on Monday?”

“Oh yeah, she did,” Thomas nods. “Some snob from New York.”

“How do you know she’s a snob?” Lucas questions.

“Well.. She’s from the city,” Thomas shrugs.

“And that makes her a snob?” Lucas squints.

“You’ve heard how Zay talks about some of those city folk...” Tristan backs up his brother.

“I don’t think he means all city folk...” Lucas says.

“Whatever,” Thomas groans growing bored of the conversation, “If she’s half as scary as Jed then snobby will be the least of our problems.”

“You’re probably right..” Lucas stares off towards Jed’s house which looks particularly eerie in the darkness. “So what is it we’re doing tonight?” Lucas asks, “Nothing illegal please! I’m still grounded because you two got drunk at Tyler’s party the other week.”

“So are we,” Thomas chuckles like the punishment was totally worth the good time they had.

“Okay so no drama tonight please?” Lucas sighs.

“Is anything really illegal when our fathers are the law here in Hillford?” Tristan asks. “Yes,” Lucas says eyeing his cousin.

Thomas chuckles, “We were thinking of going to Chubby’s.”

“That I can do,” Lucas smirks.

✮ ✮ ✮

Riley spends her entire Saturday moping around her new room on the phone to Maya. Sunday, she planned to do more of the same until a hunger issue gets in the way. The brunette is scanning the scarce kitchen cupboards for something to eat when Jed unintentionally sneaks up behind her causing Riley to jump.

“Sorry,” Jed clears his throat.

“That’s okay, I was just looking for a snack.” Riley says.

“I live off mostly canned stuff...”

“I can see that,” Riley says.

“You can pick some stuff up at the market in town,” Jed pulls some cash out of his back pocket.

“Can’t you go?” Riley asks.

“No.” He says bluntly.

“Why not?” Riley questions.

“Because I don’t want to,” Jed waves the cash for Riley to take.

“How will I know where it is and how do you suppose I get there?” Riley asks.

“All roads lead to town, we passed it on the way in the other night and you seem like a smart girl, you’ll find your way,” Jed says, “And you can walk, it doesn’t take long and I’d assume you’d walk plenty in the big city.”

“But-“

“Go.” Jed says firmly.

“Fine,” Riley huffs as she takes the money and sulks out of the house.

Even though Riley would be too proud to admit it but Jed was right, it wasn’t difficult for Riley to find her way to the centre of town and it didn’t take too long either.

Riley finds the market place and casually looks at the tables set up as she strolls towards the edibles. Riley’s eyes dance along tables with fruity homemade soaps, tables with quirky handmade jewellery and one particular table captivated Riley more than any other. More of a booth rather than a table as it’s surrounded with racks of clothing. Riley couldn’t tell if they were vintage clothes or hand sewn one of a kinds but something about them made her stop for a moment.

The woman behind the table notices Riley’s gazing at one particular dress that hung up the front.

“You like it?” The lady asks.

“It’s beautiful,” Riley nods not taking her eyes off it.

“Why don’t you try it on?” The lady suggest, “We have a curtained change room set up behind us,” she throws her thumb over her shoulder to point.

“Oh no,” Riley shakes her head, “It’s lovely but it isn’t exactly me.”

“Isn’t it?” The lady asks and Riley gives her a perplexed look. Subconsciously Riley tugs at one of the rips in the band t-shirt she wears.

After leaving without the dress, Riley makes her way over to the edibles section at the back, to gather some food. Riley picks up some eggs and fresh bread before collecting a few apples, lettuce and other things for a sandwich. Riley is careful not to overload herself as she knew she had to carry it all back to Jed’s. The last thing Riley wanted to get - as she craved it the moment she saw them - was a mango. Riley gently pokes a couple trying to test how ripe they are.

“You have to smell it,” The woman running the table said.

“Pardon?” Riley chuckles nervously.

“To see if it’s ripe,” she grins, “It will smell sweet.”

Riley picks up the fruit and brings it closer to her nose but pauses and gives the lady a look. “Wait, you’re not just saying that so I do it and look stupid are you?”

“Why would I do that?” She frowns.

“Because I’m gullible,” Riley matches her crescent fallen expression.

“You’re not not gullible darlin’,” she coaxes her head with a smile, “You’re trusting.” With that she picks up another mango and holds it close to her face, breathing in it’s aroma. “Here,” she holds the mango out for Riley to take, “This one is perfect.”

“Thank you,” Riley accepts it.

As the friendly blonde woman totals up Riley’s items a burley looking man with a robust belly slides in behind the counter.

“I take it that boy of yours didn’t show up to help today?” The man sighs.

“Joe, he hasn’t showed up the past two months I’m not surprised he didn’t come today,” she gives the man a weak smile.

“Now who’s this little darling?” The man asks, turning towards Riley whom had no choice but to awkwardly listen to their conversation.

“I’m sorry, that was rude,” The lady says.

“I haven’t seen your face around these markets before,” The older man states. “Are you from out of town?”

“New York,” Riley nods, “I’m staying with my grandfather for a while.”

“Of course,” The woman nods, “My sister in law was telling me about a New Yorker starting at school tomorrow. Abbey- or Mrs. Dunn to you, I guess,” she chuckles, “She’s the English teacher at Hillford High.”

“Oh, small world,” Riley laughs nervously.

“Small town,” she jokes. “I’m Cassidy and this is my father in law, everyone calls him Pappy Joe.”

“Nice to meet you,” Riley grins politely, “I’m Riley.”

“If you don’t mind me asking Riley, who is your grandfather?” Pappy Joe questions.

“Jedediah Lawrence,” Riley answers sheepishly.

“Oh we’re neighbours!” Cassidy practically squeals and Riley finds her young at heart nature really inviting.

They chat didn’t last much longer as Cassidy had other customers to tend to so Riley takes the two full bags and makes the walk back home with them.

Riley arrives back to Jed’s house and fixes herself a sandwich, she asks if Jed wants one but he declines. Riley retreats to her room where she continues her sulking. Even though the bubbly woman at the market put Riley in a positive mood the reminder that this was forced upon her brings Riley back down in the dumps.

Riley resurfaces to get a glass of water and had full intentions to return to the moping but Jedediah stops her before she reaches the stairs.

“You’ve been mopping around the house for almost two days now,” He says harshly, “When are you going to suck up the fact that this is happening and start enjoying it?”

“From what I hear you’ve mopped around the house for ten years.” Riley scoffs but immediately snaps her head up, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Jed waves his hand. With a deep sigh he sits at the dining table. “What exactly is it you know about me?”

Riley sheepishly takes one of the other seats at the table. “Mom’s told me a couple stories here and there about growing up..” Riley begins, “I know that a few months ago you called her out of the blue, after years of not speaking. She was so angry at something I did she vented to you instead of hanging up. That’s where this whole idea came from, I believe,” Riley lets out a deflated laugh and motions around the room.

“Believe it or not Riley I do want to get to know you,” Jed says a little softer than he has been. “I know you’re upset about this change but your parents are doing what they feel is best for you.”

Riley guards herself with folded arms.

“Did you even notice how nice the walk was into town?” Jed asks. “I think if you stopped looking at this as a punishment you’d realise this town has a lot to offer.”

“But this is my punishment,” Riley stresses.

“You’ve grown up in a big city and now you’ve been handed the country as your backyard,” Jed rises from his seat, “That doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

Riley is left alone with her thoughts for a moment before she too rises from her seat. Instead of returning to her room she hovers by the back doors for a moment. Riley decides to exit and finds herself stepping off the little deck and into the overgrown grass outside. Riley looks around at the houses on either side and the array of trees that all their houses sit in front of. Riley looks up and squints into the afternoon sunlight. With arms out on either side of her Riley begins to twirl amongst the grass. The longer she spins the more happy she feels. The brunette doesn’t stop twirling until she feels sick and in a dizzy haze she could have sworn she saw someone in the property beside her grandfathers watching. But when her vision steadies there is no one there.

✮ ✮ ✮

Lucas sits on the sofa in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table. He’s watching television when his mother walks through the door.

“Feet!” Is the first thing Cassidy says when she enters.

“Sorry!” Lucas drops his feet and his boots hit the ground with a thud.

“Where were you today?” Cassidy hovers by the couch with a hand on her hip. “I thought you were going to stop by the market to help me?”

“I’m sorry, I was going to but I slept in,” Lucas lies.

“That’s funny because I saw your uncle Caleb in town and he said you were passed out on the boys floor,” Cassidy gives her son a knowing look.

“I promise we weren’t doing anything bad,” Lucas turns to her for a moment, “We just went to Chubby’s and then played video games at their house. I fell asleep. Completely harmless fun..”

“Lucas, you’re grounded,” Cassidy can’t help but laugh. “There’s no exceptions to being grounded.”

“I’m sorry, mama,” Lucas gives her a cheesy grin. “But I didn’t even drink at that party, I feel like I was unfairly punished!”

“Aiding and abetting, my dear boy,” Cassidy points a finger out and gives Lucas another knowing look before entering the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“Leave the law stuff to dad,” Lucas calls out to her, “You’re a much better preschool teacher.”

Cassidy smiles to herself at his comment. “I met the new student today, she came by the market,” Cassidy calls out as she fiddles in the kitchen.

“Oh yeah?” Lucas mumbles back as he was more invested in the television now.

“She sure looks out of place with the clothes she wears,” Cassidy lets out a quiet laugh, “But I don’t know, Lucas... I have a good feeling about her.”

“Mmhm” Lucas remains unenthusiastic as he switches off the television. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower.”

With that he marches upstairs and to his room to grab his towel. As he passes the window he stops when something catches his eye. Lucas steps closer to the glass and stares out into the neighbouring yard where a girl spins amongst the overgrown grass. She’s too far away to make out the finer details but now he knew for sure there was a new girl next door. Probably the new student his mother was talking about. When the girl steadies and looks over in his direction Lucas ducks out of view. Lucas’ immediate thought was why someone would do that when there are a number of dangers that could be concealed in the grass but his second thought, the one that stuck with him after he was caught watching was how someone could possibly be so happy doing something like spinning. It struck him as odd yet something about her pleasant twirling had him intrigued.

✮ ✮ ✮

End Notes: So I know they haven't met yet but I hope this chapter still hooks you a bit more than the prologue did... Next chapter they do indeed meet. This is a bit of a slow burner... I hope that doesnt disappoint :)

For anyone who didn’t watch boy meets world and is confused Jedediah is Topanga’s father and they have an estranged relationship. Also if you’re not picking up on my subtle facts about Lucas’ family then heres what you should know so far: His father is the sherif, his mother is a preschool teacher + works at the market on weekends, his uncle Caleb is a sherifs deputy and so was Zay’s dad before they moved. Caleb’s wife is an English teacher at the high school. If you’re still confused here’s Lucas’ family tree of everyone relevant to this story!!

Reviews are always appreciated! Please let me know if you want more :)

#rucas #rucas au #rucas fanfic #rucas imagine #rucas fic #the story of us

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snakeslide · 8 years ago

Text

Lynn’s Giant Steve/Bucky Reclist (part 2)

Continuing from part one and my Steve/Bucky/Sam list. Made for @luciferyl but available for all!

Containing: Absolutely NO unhappy endings, some angst, some plot, and lots of fluff. Not containing: overwhelming angst, many fics set pre-WWII

Sections: General, Modern AUs

* = over 10,000 words

$ = over 50,000 words

http://archiveofourown.org/works/1488142 Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face."Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas." http://archiveofourown.org/works/1744628 In which Bucky doesn't fall from the train, Steve has company when he wakes up in the twenty-first century, and neither of them knows how to talk about their feelings unless they're about to die. http://archiveofourown.org/works/1721768 Bucky knows it's going to be a bad one when Steve wakes up again, lifts his head up from the side of Bucky's fancy electric hospital bed, and says, "Now don't get mad until I explain." http://archiveofourown.org/works/5620300 when you’re a thousand miles away from home, even holidays don't feel the same. or: brooklyn boys versus the california cool. http://archiveofourown.org/works/2083218 Bucky chuckled and Steve’s stomach fluttered. “But actually, Stark did tell me to come tell you that fireworks are gonna start soon. Real special ones, just for you. You had to turn ninety-five, but you’re gettin’ the show you deserve.” Part of a series, but the other ones are often depressing. This one’s cute http://archiveofourown.org/works/1966497 Bucky is alone for a day and Steve leaves post-it notes on his metal arm. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/4906753 Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?” *http://archiveofourown.org/series/23724 Steve leads a Tactical Defense training course a few months after the events of the Avengers movie, and gains himself some SHIELD-issue ducklings. A series of interconnected stories set in the same universe. * http://archiveofourown.org/works/1507499 In the absence of orders, the man wearing the face of Bucky Barnes must figure out who he will be. The answer, mostly, is "somebody Steve Rogers can love." Nothing so easy should ever take this much work. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1009876 An AU where Bucky is a young selkie who is accidentally called to Steve and ends up staying around to help this poor, wretched kid not die *http://archiveofourown.org/works/3696965 Steve and Bucky: an edible history. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/5520335 By the time Bucky rounds the doorway into Steve's hospital room and sees Sam, flipping through a medical file with a thunderstruck expression, he's prepared himself for just about anything to greet him on the other side of that curtain. What he's not prepared for is Steve saying, “Hey, Buck,” kind of sheepishly, and pushing all five-foot-four inches of himself a bit further up the bed. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658254 “And this is the thing, Steve. I would rather relive this day for eternity than watch them win and you die, or see you be enslaved to them the way I was.” Groundhog Day *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1591178 Steve and Sam chase the Winter Soldier's trail of cold cases across Europe. Meanwhile, Bucky keeps an eye on their progress. As his memories return, he begins to find it harder and harder to sleep and there's only one person he can think to turn to. A lot of emotionally repressed bed-sharing ensues. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2890913/chapters/6453446 In 1943, the Howling Commandos wrote goodbye letters to be given to their loved ones in the event of their deaths.In 2014, Sharon Carter finds those letters in a tin can in an abandoned HYDRA base. * http://archiveofourown.org/works/2439302 In which Steve Rogers loses God and finds God and loses God, and also: Bucky.

[Actually, just read everything written by Speranza. “20th Century Limited” http://archiveofourown.org/works/4719176 and “the nightmare from which I am trying to wake” http://archiveofourown.org/works/1710950 and “Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes” http://archiveofourown.org/works/2171703/chapters/4750209 are good too.]

*http://archiveofourown.org/works/1704596/chapters/3628919 In which various people deal with things they never signed up for, but at the end of the day no one's particularly surprised. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1447585 History, Peggy has learned, never tells the whole story. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1508177 He's been in Steve Rogers's company for less than twenty-four hours and he's already losing sight of his mission. $ http://archiveofourown.org/works/2660255/chapters/5945588 While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar). $http://archiveofourown.org/series/426577 It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.[Note: series w/o summary. Read the 2nd one first. Very detailed and also addresses some big issues, so read the tags. YMMV. On the other hand, they adopt kids and it’s adorable.] $ http://archiveofourown.org/works/1871955/chapters/4031307 Someone is building machines that look and act like people. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1695929 Steve's known Bucky his whole life. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1933773 When the Avengers realize that Steve doesn’t have anything to remind him of Bucky Barnes, they embark on a project to track down Bucky memorabilia. But it seems that Steve isn’t the only visitor to the (unofficial) J. B. Barnes memorial (which is totally NOT a shrine, Tony). *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2630747 Steve looked good, He looked hale and hearty and uninjured in his leather jacket, too-tight shirt, and jeans. He got off the motorcycle and his movements were graceful and fluid - no obvious signs of injury. He took off his helmet and -- Oh. Steve had a beard. Bucky’s mechanical hand spasmed oddly. http://archiveofourown.org/works/4653984 Steve and Bucky go on a road trip. Breakthroughs are made. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2304905/chapters/5071058 The Associated Press @APWinter Soldier set to stand trial for Washington D.C. massacre and treason apne.ws/1og6SWE http://archiveofourown.org/series/117082 Steve chuckled. "Handsome and charming," he said. "Very popular with the dames." He brought his hand to the crown of Bucky's head, ran his fingers through his hair. It was still long and Bucky had never shown any interest to cut it down to his original style; Steve assumed it was here to stay just like the metal arm. He had Bucky back but the Winter Soldier was a part of the package. "Do you remember?"Bucky shrugged. He rolled his face into Steve's touch. "Some things. There're still blank spaces. I know enough to tell when the book's lying." http://archiveofourown.org/works/2185989 Bucky enrolls in a college course about Captain America. It doesn't go well.

*http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sbb2016/works/7907179 After finding himself alone for the first time in decades, the Winter Soldier learns how to be a person again. Mostly through caring for an orphaned kitten, countless rounds of YouTube roulette, and stalking Captain America. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2398808 The other problem is that Steve loves him, and Bucky isn't sure he remembers how to love. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/1758087/chapters/3758717 In the aftermath of Steve's return to the world of the living and the battle of New York, the academia and the Internet react. $ http://archiveofourown.org/series/99215 series w/o a summary. 4 fics spanning from WWII to Winter Soldier and beyond (not Civil War compliant) $ http://archiveofourown.org/series/464914 series summary: You'll be on my mind, my destiny. Summary of first fic: Steve and Bucky break, mend, and try to find their place in the world without the mantles of Captain America or the Winter Soldier. AU, post Civil War. Second fic is long Civil War fix-it

Written pre-Winter Soldier movie $http://archiveofourown.org/works/516956/chapters/912562 The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely.Help me, the bullet sang.Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping. And Steve Rogers looked up. http://archiveofourown.org/works/437007 There's a kill order on the Winter Soldier and Steve Rogers has been acting kind of strangely lately.

Modern AUs *http://archiveofourown.org/series/407643 series w/o a summary. Summary of first fic: There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.” *http://archiveofourown.org/works/3189626 Bucky looks like he’s had a difficult month, what with the eviction notice and all, but that’s not the reason Steve gives for allowing him to stay on his Couch. Everything by this author is pretty good *http://archiveofourown.org/works/2113371 Bucky's newspaper keeps going missing. http://archiveofourown.org/series/166100 Literally this person has written 50 different meet-cute AUs?? Most of them aren’t particularly long but some are 10k-ish. Over 300k in all *http://archiveofourown.org/works/7766836 Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero. tbh, any of this author’s fics are good. http://archiveofourown.org/series/635039 collects the longest ones *http://archiveofourown.org/works/7848298 “We should date,” Bucky blurts out, inspiration suddenly striking.That gets him Steve’s attention, at least. “Excuse me?” he asks. “No no no, hear me out,” Bucky says. “You wanna get back at them, right? Imagine the following: We date, fall madly in love, then have the most horrendous breakup in history and make them deal with that. They’ll feel terrible because they set us up, and we get to eat free ice cream and see their faces when we eventually tell them we pulled one over them,” Bucky finishes with a smug grin.“That’s a terrible plan,” Steve says. *http://archiveofourown.org/works/3626802/chapters/8008566 Cats. Can't live with them, can't let them live without you. Is it possible to be an unwitting partner in a cat timeshare? Not without meeting the other person who has stolen her heart…$http://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481 Captain America trashes his motorcycle a lot. Tony says he'll fix it, then never gets around to it and just buys him a new one. Steve, the Depression-era kid, can't stand the waste and goes looking for somewhere near him in Brooklyn where he can get his bike fixed. That's how he finds Red Star Bike Repair, and the hot Russian-immigrant bike racer who runs it: all long hair and muscles and tattoos. And for the first time since he woke from the ice, Steve feels a connection to someone; a comfort in the other man's silences and his space, an attraction in his sheer skill at racing. But James Barnes isn't exactly who he seems...

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #mcu #avengers #marvel #luciferyl #fic recs #recs #stucky recs

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