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maximumsass · 1 month

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Green Eyes of Envy Pt. 6

Author’s Note: Hello my lovely readers!! For all the newbies that come across this Heyyyy!! I have been MIA for a long minute with this series but I got inspired again and boom I wrote for this first time in literally months! I have part 7 almost finished so be on the look out for that!But I’m back to feed your Melissa Schemmenti fanfic needs! And I hope y’all like it!! I feel pretty damn good about it and writing this made my little author heart very happy! Sending y’all all da love and hugs!

Warning: SMUTT, obviously a lot of fluffff!! And an argument which breaks my heart but couples fight gotta keep it real!

Synopsis: Thanksgiving is upon you and Mel and sadly you have made plans to go home for the holiday. Of course both you and Mel are upset about this. Emotions are running high, and someone lashes out! Will you and Melissa be able to makeup before you have to catch your flight home? And if y’all do makeup, will it include bedroom activities? Keep reading my lovely readers to find out!

Word Count: 2.5K+

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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It’s the week of Thanksgiving and you are going back to Michigan to see your family. This had been planned since August so before you and Jessica Rabbit got together. You didn’t know who was more sad about not being together for your first holiday as a couple.

You were taking a personal day on Wednesday to fly out early and be with your family as much as possible for the short trip home. Of course that meant the redhead couldn’t take you to the airport and see you off because it was the last day of school before break and this made her even more upset. You actually had your first fight about it.

“I’ll take a personal day too and then I can take you to the airport.” Mel said over dinner.

You stopped eating and put down your utensils. “Honey, you know the district is having a sub shortage. And think of your kids, they all will want to say bye to you on the last day.” You say hoping that logic will have her drop the topic.

“But I need to take you to the airport and do the sappy cry fest goodbye before you go through security.” She says looking at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“Mel, I don’t need you to do anything for me. Would it be nice if you could yes, but it’s not a good option so it’s fine I’m a big girl and I can get an Uber.” You say to her and as soon as it’s out of your mouth you wish you could take it back.

She looks at you with disbelief. “Why is it so bad to need me (Y/N)? Do you know how terrifying it is for me to admit to myself let alone to you that I need you. I could’ve easily denied that I need you but I’d be lying to myself just like you’re lying to yourself!” She exclaims and then the tears start flowing down her cheeks.

And then you realize that you’re the asshole in this situation.

You get up and walk towards her slowly to gage where she’s at. Fuck it, you need to hold her and apologize and do whatever it takes to make sure she’s okay.

“Baby I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I promise. My mouth and my defense mechanisms got the best of me. If I’m being honest I’m more upset about not being together over break than I’m letting on and I’m just trying to be fine about the whole thing. I know shoving difficult shit down always leads to hurting myself or someone I love. I think I was just trying to protect you from seeing how upset I actually am because I knew it’d make you feel more upset. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that and I sincerely apologize. In the future I’ll just tell you how I’m really feeling so it doesn’t build up.” You say looking at her, you holding her hand, your thumb stroking the top of her hand. You stand up and grab a couple tissues and hand them to her.

She wipes her eyes and then gently pulls you onto her lap.

“I forgive you angel, I know you’d never intentionally hurt me. You never have to hide from me. I want to see every part of you. Especially when you’re really upset because I know I won’t be able to fix it most times but I know with certainty that I will love you through it and sit by your side and listen and hold you through it. You just gotta let me in so I can do that. I promise I’m not going anywhere, you’re forever stuck with me. You just have to trust me.” The redhead says softly.

You feel a couple tears slide down your cheeks. You wipe them away and then lean your forehead against hers. “Thank you for forgiving me. I just want to tell you that I do need you. I’m not saying it just to say it I really truly mean it. I need all of you and like you said, it’s really scary admitting that. There’s this part of me that if I say I need you that somehow you’ll end up thinking that I’m incapable, which I know sounds ridiculous. But when one of the top assumptions about me is that I am incapable to do most things because of my disabilities, it’s something that’s always in the back of my mind.” You explain as you play with her hair.

“Oh honey. I didn’t even think about that. That makes so much sense. I know I keep saying this to you but I’ll say it again you (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are my superwoman, you’re the most stubborn, independent, get shit done woman I know, and I know that you can do and get anything you want to…well maybe not cooking.” She chuckles and kisses your head. “But when you let me take care of you, when you let yourself need me it makes me feel so special because you’re so selective about who you let in. Whenever you’re having those thoughts you just need to tell me. And then I’ll remind you how amazing I think you are, how I know you can do whatever it is that I’m doing for you and that it’s okay to let your amazing woman take care of you and need me in that moment. Besides I will always be the needier one out of the two of us, cause you’re just irresistible.” She says smiling at you.

You lean in and give her a long slow desire filled kiss. When you break away she has a big smirk on her face. “We’ve had a lot of sex but we still haven’t had makeup sex yet. Do you think you are up for checking that off our firsts list tonight?” She purs into your ear.

You mirror her smirk. “I think I’m up for our first makeup session.”

“But this is a rare occasion kind of thing miss. Fighting is not who we are. We just need to remember to talk to each other about the hard shit. You’re my safe place and I’m yours, whatever we’re facing we do it together.” She says and you nod in agreement.

Before you know what’s happening she’s takes you in her arms and she stands up and carries you to the bedroom. She lays you on the bed and then she starts undressing you, when she’s done with you she starts undressing herself but slowly to tease you, it’s working and just spikes your desire for her.

You prop yourself up on your arms so you can get a better look at the strip tease she’s doing for you. She finishes by taking off her black lace panties that she knows drive you wild. And then before you know what’s happening she’s on top of you and is kissing you with such desire. Her tongue licks your lips for permission to enter and of course you let her tongue slide into your mouth and dance with your tongue, and you moan into the kiss.

She breaks away for air, and looks down at you like you are the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. She then goes to your neck and starts kissing, sucking and nibbling, you both know that she’s marking her territory.

Melissa knows and loves how independent you are but she also has this possessive side where you are hers and everyone needs to know it, hence her marking you everywhere possible. And you’re not gonna lie, you think this side of her is so hot! You love that she wants everyone to know that you belong to her.

She works her way down to your boobs, and then she’s licking your nipple and sucking it and you let a stifled moan fall from your lips. She takes your chin in her hand and gets you to look at her.

“I want to hear that gorgeous moan of yours, nice and loud.” She instructs seductively.

She then goes to the other boob and works wonders with that gorgeous mouth of hers. “Fuck Mel!” You moan as your hands grip the sheets.

“There’s my good girl sounding so gorgeous for me.” She says praising you.

She then proceeds to kiss all the way down your stomach and your legs and then she gently licks all the way up and down your folds. Your moans fill the room.

“You’re already so wet for me princess, such a good girl wanting me to fuck you so badly.” She says as she looks at you between your legs.

She then slides her tongue inside you and your hips immediately start grinding against her mouth and your hands go to her hair. She starts rubbing circles on your clit and you feel the heat starting to rise as an orgasm begins to form.

“Oh my god Mel, yes I’m almost there!” You exclaim.

And then she pulls away and gets off the bed.

“What the actual fuck??!!” You whine looking to see what she’s doing. She goes into her closet, rummages around in there and then comes back out wearing the strap.

And you feel a whole different type of desire building inside your pussy.

She gets back on the bed and climbs on top of you. She hovers over your face and then leans down to kiss you softly.

“I’m sorry I left ya high and dry, I just thought that makeup sex needed to involve me strapping you.” She says in a soft but confident tone. All you can do is nod.

She starts rubbing the strap on your pussy as well as taking your juices and putting it on the strap so it’ll enter you with ease. She looks at you for permission to enter and you nod.

She knows that you need her to be gentle and go slowly as she starts. She pushes slowly inside of you and you gasp because having her fill you feels so god damn good. She starts pumping in and out slowly at first as she moves so that you’re face to face again,she takes your hands and places them above your head and then intertwines her fingers with yours as she leans down and kisses you deeply and you both can’t help but moan.

“You’re being such a good girl and taking me so well. You look so beautiful with me filling you.” She whispers to you.

“I’m so close Mel! Fuck!” You yell out.

“Me too baby.” She pants as she thrusts in and out of you. She can tell from your face that you’re about to cum. She thrusts in you a few more times and then says “Cum for me, my beautiful girl.” And you cum all over the strap and she cums seconds later. And then collapses on top of you as you both come down from your orgasms.

“You my dear are truly my sex goddess.” You say as you smile at her laying on your chest.

“Good, then I’m doing my job.” She says softly and winks at you.

“I love ya, ya know.” You say as you stroke her head and kiss her temple.

“I know baby, I love you so much.” She says as she reaches up and caresses your face.

“I would say that’s the best makeup sex I’ve ever had.” You say with a big smile.

“I would definitely agree. But like I said, makeup sex is occasional at most. I hate fighting with you.” She says looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“I know baby. Me too. You’re just too adorable to fight with anyway.” You say with a chuckle.

“I’m only adorable with you. Everyone else I instill fear into their souls!” She says and then chuckles.

“You are rather terrifying in most situations i will say.” You say with a smirk.

“You make me feel safe, ya know. That’s why I’m so soft and loving with you cause you hold space for me where I can bring down my walls and be vulnerable and I know you got me and will love and support me regardless of what I’m feeling on any given day. And that’s a big deal for me. Thank you for being that for me, amore mio.” She says softly and then leans to you and gives you a soft love filled kiss.

“You wanna take a shower together tonight? That way you don’t have to worry about taking one tomorrow morning?” She asks as she pulls out of you, gets up and takes the strap off.

“Awww look at you thinking about future me.” You say as you get up and walk to the bathroom. “You know I’ll never say no to a shower with you.” You say as she follows you into the bathroom.

“You know I always think about you and how I can make your life easier.” She says as she wraps her arms around your waist. She looks at the handy work she did to your neck just moments ago and laughs.

“I’m glad you find the hickeys you gave me so amusing.” You say dripping in sarcasm.

“What can I say, you’ve turned me into a horny teenager all over again! And I just can’t help myself, plus your neck is so irresistible. It makes me laugh because I never felt this way let alone acted like this with anyone even as a kid. And now at 50 years old a little 29 year old comes along and brings it out of me.” She explains as she caresses your neck.

“I love that I brought it out of you.” You say with a smirk.

“Me too baby, me too. Okay shower and then bedtime so you wake up refreshed and ready to embark for Michigan.” She says and then takes you by the hand and into the shower.

You shower and then get into bed, you lie there staring up at the ceiling, feeling sad that you have to be away from Mel for five days.

“You better get your cute ass over here and lay your head on my chest. You know how that helps me fall asleep.” She says as she rolls over to face you.

You roll over and maneuver yourself and place your head on her chest and wrap your arm around her. And you listen to her heart beat and her breathing get slower and slower, as you drift off to sleep in the arms of a woman who is your everything.

“Feel the rain on your skin, no one can feel it for you only you can let it in. No one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips. Treat yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open, today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten!” Blares through your phone into the silent room.

“Fuck my life!” You groan into your pillow as you grab the phone off the nightstand to turn off your alarm. You feel soft kisses being placed on your shoulders and up your neck. It’s Mel’s adorable way of making you feel better in the morning cause she knows you’re not a morning person. And it really does make you feel better.

You turn to face her and are met with her gorgeous green eyes which you could get lost in for eternity and you’d be perfectly content with that.

“Good morning angel.” She says with a big smile as she leans in and kisses you softly. You wrap your arms around her and pull her so that your bodies are intertwined with each other.

“Good morning my gorgeous girl.” You say softly as you give her a sleepy smile.

“I just want to stay like this all day. I can’t believe I won’t see you for five days, it’s gonna be so weird. I’m gonna miss ya so much.” She says and then she lays her head on your chest.

“I know baby, me too. I’m gonna miss you so much. But it’ll go by fast and then I’m all yours to do with whatever you like.” You say with a big smirk.

“Ooo I like the sound of that!” She looks up at you seductively. “We both need to get up and get moving princess.” She says and then steals another kiss and then she rips the sheets off of you both and gets up.

“Fine but only cause you said too.” You chuckle and get up.

Once dressed, Mel goes through a mental checklist with you to make sure you have everything packed.

“You are very cute making sure I have everything.” You say as you put your hands on her waist and pull her in for a hug.

“I need to know you’re taken care of even when I’m not there. Not saying you can’t take care of yourself…” She says but is interrupted by you kissing her.

“I know what you meant baby.” You say to her when you break away as you caress her cheek.

“Good! You’re finally getting it through that stubborn head of yours!” She teases and playfully nudges you.

“Yeah, yeah! I should probably call my Uber.” You say in a more somber tone.

“Because I can’t drive you to the airport, will you at least let me pay for your Uber?” She asks with her big puppy dog eyes.

You knew this was just another way of the redhead wanting to take care of you. “Fine. I’ll let you get my Uber. But you better watch out I could get used to this princess treatment!” You teased her.

“Good! Cause you’re getting it for the rest of our lives together!” She quips back with a big smirk.

Mel gets an Uber for you. A few minutes later she’s notified it’s here. You walk arm in arm outside with Mel of course carrying your luggage. Your Uber pulls up and Mel puts your suitcase in the trunk. You look at her and see her eyes fill with tears. You pull her into you for a tight hug.

“I’ll be back before you know it. And you’ll probably realize how nice it is not to have me around.” You tease her and feel her laugh into your neck. “I’m going to miss you so much. And just know that whenever you think about me, I’m probably thinking about you too. I love you so much, sweetheart.” You say as you stroke her head.

“I’m going to miss you more! I love you so much amore mio. Don’t forget to text me when you get to the airport, when you get through security, when you get on the plane, when you land and when you get to home.” She instructs you as she looks at you lovingly.

“Yes ma’am.” You say with a nod and then you pull her in for a deep passionate kiss. When you break away, she gives you one more quick hug and then opens the car door for you, makes sure you buckle up and then gently shuts the car door.

“You ready to go?” Asks the driver.

“Yep.” You say as you roll down the window and wave to Mel. And you look back at her standing in her driveway watching you leave until you can’t see her anymore.

Onward to Michigan, you think to yourself.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #wlw #queer #lesbian #pansexual #biseuxal #girls like girls #abbott elementary #fanfic #lisa ann walter

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cressthebest · 22 days

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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 45

chapter 68:

1. “Some of those ashes could be Marlene.” bro wtf

2. listing out the names of the people who died in war destroyed me

3. james reacting to his father’s death by flinching away from effie had me broken. i’m destroyed. unwell

4. “The worst part is, when he says what he does next, it's not even a question. "After that, you're leaving."

Sirius' eyes flutter shut, and he croaks, "Yeah, Reggie, I'm leaving again."”

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING IM UNWELL I WILL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN!!! I WILL NEVER BE FINE AGAIN

5. “”Sirius, I love you more than anything. You're the first person in this world I ever loved at all. Not Mother, not Father, not James; it was you.”” STILL SCREAMING STILL CRYING STILL SOBBING STILL UNWELL

6. okay just all of the stuff with the black brothers has me in tears. their bond is unbreakable and my heart is in fact very breakable. i’m shattered over them

7. dorcas hasn’t left that spot in over twenty four hours and boy am i worried for her. she needs water. she needs to go pee, i’m sure. she needs to eat something and to rest

8. “Just not afraid to die, then?

No, I'm rather used to it, actually.”

STILL SCREAMING OVER MARLENE!!! STILL SOBBING ACTUALLY

9. “"You. Even you," Dorcas declares harshly, glaring at her. "I'd rather it be you. Instead of her, I'd rather you be dead."”

WOAH! hold up!!! i love marlene as much as the next gal, but nobody goes after my girl lily. she fought and fought and fought as well. she deserved to make it to this side of war too! she tried to keep marlene alive too. hold your horses dorcas.

10. 😧 did you just shoot my lily??? MY LILY??? holy fucking shit. she’s insane.

11. “Some of that blood must have been Marlene's. Dorcas wishes she had bathed in it; Dorcas wants to turn back time and drown in it.” 😟 i’m worried

12. “Never, through any of this, did [James] imagine losing his dad.” kill me. it would be more merciful than making me live after reading that

13. “Monty loved Sirius like a father did; Sirius is allowed to mourn him as a son would.” calling my freind again while sobbing brb

14. god I don’t know how to explain it, but every time pandora is mentioned and she’s alive i let out a huge sigh of relief

15. AROACE PANDORA SUPREMACY

16. i’m so horridly upset that lily lost almost everyone. she lost her family, she lost sybil, she lost kingsley, and dorcas tried to shoot her, so i’m pretty sure she lost her too. lily tried to not love anybody because she was scared of losing them, and sure enough, she was right

17. i get upset when everyone talks about going separate ways. i want everyone to live in one big town and live right next door to each other. i’m thinking hogwarts vibes (except better, ya know) or maybe the mansion they all lived in at the start of ahb!

18. as much as it upsets me that sirius is going to be leaving james and effie and regulus, i’m genuinely so happy that sirius is going to stay with remus

19. oh. i see why sirius has to leave. it’s best for everyone to heal a little before sirius sees his james and regulus again. because otherwise they won’t be able to heal

20. i love wolfstar, and this is so emotional but like, “Just—for right now, what I need is to be with you. I want—that's what I want.” all that does is remind me of high school musical with the “ALL I WANNA DOOOO IS BEE WITH YOU! ONLY YOU! NO MATTER WHERE LIFE TAKES US, NOTHING CAN BREAK US APAAAART, YOU KNOW ITS TRUE, I JUST WANNA BE WITH YOUUUU”

21. ““I wish I did love him that way," Regulus confesses, "because it would have been easier than this. It would have been easier to define how losing him feels, but it's not. James, it's not."”

god, i ache for him. like so badly. i so badly want him to have barty back. more than any other character. (sorry to marlene and monty and sybil and literally everyone else who died)

22. “It's still been three days since the end of the war, and Regulus wonders when they'll stop measuring the passage of time that way.” 😟

23. “Doomed to be a great, big tragedy.” *eye twitch* i’m fine. *even bigger eye twitch*

24. look, i know in the future, everyone will be together again and as happy as they can ever be. but rn, i’m sad

chapter 69:

1. “"I don't care!" Aberforth shouts. "I don't give a damn about your fucked up love story with our sister's murderer, Albus! The fact that you even came to love him to begin with sickens me, let alone that you continued to after he killed Ariana, and still do to this day!"” hell yeah put him in his place

2. “The dead sister card is a little underhanded, admittedly, but Aberforth knows a thing or two about manipulation tactics. He'd have to. Albus is his older brother, after all.” LMAOOOOOO

3. lily mentioning children and sirius and remus just locking eyes and panicking was so fucking funny. bro i’m wheezing

4. BRO AND THEN REGULUS BEING LIKE “you’ve??? never thought about kids??????? wtf??? me and james are having four you little loser??????”

5. dorcas just marching in has me so fucking scared ngl

6. oh god, dorcas became the president coin in this. she wants to make a new hunger games. oh god. oh no

7. as horrifying as it was to see sirius’ train of thought, him being the first one to say no is so fucking satisfying oh my god

8. good for remus fucking standing up for lily. everyone is blaming lily, and finally remus speaks up that the blame cannot rest on lily alone

9. 😧😧 not albus suggesting the jegulus wedding to help with the aftermath. bro he’s fucking insane. it’s so hallow-like of him to suggest that oh my god

10. oh my god dorcas has gone insane, is she about to tell everyone how albus was in love with grindlewald. that’s fucking insane oh my god i can’t wait

11. oh my god it’s even better. it’s that he came up with the rule for the quarterly quell. oh my god this is gonna be great

12. 😧 holy shit. sirius just killed albus. imma be so real, i expected one person to not leave that table, and i thought it would be dorcas, not albus. i thought she would be killed

13. minerva asking lily to be a medic and help save albus, and lily just not will forever be iconic to me

14. as a punishment they banned sirius from the hallow 😭😭😭 babes they knew they had to come up with some punishment as like a way to show actions have consequences, but they chose one that sirius would love 😭😭 that’s so funny to me bro

15. alberforth finally leaving his home is a very satisfying character arch

16. “this story is, first and foremost, about siblings—primarily sirius and regulus ofc—like that is the whole point of this fic, the core of it over anything else. and that feels right considering the source material, like in thg, it was always about katniss' love for prim and how important that was over peeta or gale or anyone else. and i just. i really adore that, and hope i paid a good homage to that, because i really admire it.”

you did. you did pay homage to that. it was abundantly clear that this was about siblings. and i love you for it. thank you, if you see this

alrighty six more chapters to go! i’m in the home stretch yall

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sirius black #crimson rivers #remus lupin #lily evans #dorcas meadowes #black brothers #sirius and regulus #wolfstar #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #albus dumbledore #aberforth dumbledore

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frownyalfred · 1 year

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*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya

okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.

So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.

A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.

A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)

ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”

Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?

This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!

It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.

What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.

I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.

So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.

PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.

I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.

Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.

#ptsd #trauma tw #ptsd tw #death tw #bruce wayne #dc #batman #myfic #theresurrectionist #batfamily #batfamily meta #bruce wayne meta #batman meta #asks

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lin-lll · 20 days

Note

Hi yes, as Ethan's auntie 💅💅 I am dying to know about him (story, height, age, anything you wanna share)

And also don't forget to hydrate and eat well 💖

Hi! I’m glad you asked<333

So he was born in 33BBY and he’s 1.9 meters tall, his eye color/representative color is klein blue💙

I often refer to him as a Maine Coon because he's big and so clingy and has the personality of a dog but is a cat🐈‍⬛🐾

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Well, about his story, I tried to consolidate in a clueless bunch of chats I had with a friend of mine, and I hope it doesn't look too ridiculous💦

So basically he became Eno Cordova's apprentice (after Cere Junda) when he was about twelve years old and then, we all know what happened after that-Order 66-Ethan was hidden by his master in Bogano so he survived, and then for the next five years Ethan lived on his own in Bogano.

Thanks to BD-1’s company, he was able to survive until Cal Kestis came to Bogano and found him at 14BBY.

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Ethan's first impression is that he's confident and poised, but once you get to know him well, you’ll realize he's actually a childish and boisterous person.

He's also very curious and likes to act cute around people - maybe it's his master's fault for spoiling him so much, considering Master Cordova's own curiosity is also very strong🙂‍↕️ Also resembling his master, Ethan is always gentle and smiling but can be intimidating when necessary, seemingly unreliable but with everything in his plan.

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His mental condition wasn't very good for those five years, lets just say that living in isolation was too fatal for such a kid who needed emotional interaction so much, plus he had studied too much ancient history with his master and seen too many civilizations fall and rise so he was actually a bit of a nihilist(?) at the time, he was forced to live with the chaotic thoughts in his head causing him to become very paranoid for a time, for a while he was almost like a wild animal.

During a battle with a Bog Rat Ethan had to chop off his padawan braid to prevent the situation from getting worse (unfortunately it bit his padawan braid) , at that point he had a complete mental breakdown but at the same time finally realized that he couldn't go on like this, so Ethan finally decided to put himself back together and start trying to live the Jedi way again, even if in the end he might just die alone in Bogano. (He also has a claw mark on his back left by a Bog Rat, okay our boy really hates that creature🥲)

These five years of isolation have left him with some separation anxiety and possessive/controlling of those around him (although he hides it well)

Ethan is the type of person who expresses love directly to those around him and he enjoys physical contact.

Although Ethan always encourages those around him to express themselves, he prefers to work through his trauma on his own.(Similar to wild animals hiding their injuries for fear of being taken as prey)

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So don't blame him for falling in love at first sight with Cal Kestis after five years of total isolation, plus the redheaded Jedi and him had similar experiences, were of similar ages, and were cute as hell😭💘

(Well, Ethan tried to convince himself that it was just an imprinting effect, but no, it didn't work, and every day afterward he found himself falling deeper in love)

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Though it wasn't for long, Ethan developed a deep bond with his master, during those five years Ethan would often clutch his padawan braid and watch the holographic recordings left by Master Cordova over and over again, a habit he kept after he followed Cal to join the Mantis Crew, and you can occasionally see Ethan making a gesture with his hand to hold his no-longer-existent padawan braid when he in a daze or in thought.

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That's all I can think of at the moment, I hope I didn't talk too much💦💦💦

(Sorry if some of my words are weird because I used a translator)

Thank you again for asking me about Ethan, and feel free to ask me more about him anytime 💕💕💕

Hope you have a good day!🥰🫶

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somberjoon · 6 months

Text

METANOIA [6]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 3.8k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , brief mention of weight and a regularly scheduled pap smear (i know these appointments can be uncomfortable to a certain extent so the section with this appointment is marked with * at the start and end)

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7

✩ disclaimer: this is not proof read like my other chapters, nor does it have too much going on. I am in my last couple weeks of Winter term as a full time student, so I apologize, but the content is short and simple. I think this still had some sweet progress for Y/N and she's my baby so it's fine. Next week's and the upcoming updates will hopefully be longer and have more content,,,I have quite a long way to go for being 6 chapters in, so I apologize for that as well :[

Y/N

As Taehyung pays for breakfast, Y/N stands and checks her phone she forgot was on silent. She doesn’t like the abrupt sound, but she always forgets to turn the vibration on at the start of the day.

Surprisingly, a message from Namjoon is at the top of the notifications. A message from almost an hour ago.

‘Good morning, Y/N! I hope your day is going well. Checking in to see if Taehyung is with you?’

Just as she goes to type back a reply, her phone shows an incoming call from Namjoon.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to call, but I got worried that neither you or Taehyung were answering my messages. Is he with you?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I thought you would’ve known he was here. He just showed up at the house and we just got done going out to eat. Do you need to talk to him, I can get him for you.”

“No no, it’s fine. I’m just glad you both are okay- he didn’t let me know he was leaving this morning. Was breakfast good? I’d imagine he took you to that little diner?”

“He did! It was really good.”

“I’m glad you liked it. But, if you’re uncomfortable going out or with anything at all just let him know okay? I don’t want you to go out of your comfort zone if you’re not ready.” She smiles at the kind words, missing Namjoon greatly all of a sudden and wishing he was on the trip with them.

“I’m okay, he’s been really sweet and-” she looks back to make sure Taehyung is still at the counter. “He offered to help me with my cheetah. He’s giving me advice.” She can’t help her giddy voice coming out to tell him.

“I knew he’d bring it up sooner or later. My point stands though, if there’s something that makes you uncomfortable just let him know. Like I said before, he has more primal tendencies than the rest of us, so it’ll be great for you, but it may be too much at times.”

“I will let him know if it’s too much. He needs to go shopping as well, so if we don’t answer you that’s the reason.” She stops for a second but can’t stop a confession from pushing forward before the call is over. “I wish you were with us.” She tries not to cringe at the words, waiting anxiously for a reply.

“I wish I was with you as well, it sounds fun!” A quiet sigh leaves her, her heart rate picking up a bit. “But, I’m glad you guys are spending time together. Let me know if you get tired of walking, I’ll come get you guys- I’ll let Tae know as well, okay?”

“Okay-” Taehyung walks back up to the table to show he’s done. “Taehyung just got back, we’re gonna go now.”

“Okay, be careful, please.”

“We will, byebye.”

“Byebye.” Namjoon copies, leaving her with a giddy look on her face. She looks up at Taehyung to find his phone in her face.

“We should share numbers now, too.” Taehyung says with that small pout on his face.

Taehyung leads her to the place he wanted to shop. The small shop resides in a strip mall that is quite busy despite the early time on a weekday. It’s a pretty place that has shops lining each side of a street-sized walkway. The walkway is filled with pretty beds of trees and plants, and stringed lights above them cross back and forth. She truly loves how it looks, and would like to come back at night despite knowing that it would be far more busy then. She’d risk it just to see the lights lit up.

The shop is a little place that carries art supplies Y/N has never seen. Whenever Taehyung stops to peruse a certain spot, she finds herself reaching out to touch the soft brushes or run her finger across the scratchy canvases.

She doesn’t pay attention to exactly what he picks up because she doesn’t recognize anything anyways. Only one thing catches her attention over everything. Sticks of brightly colored material wrapped in paper sit perfectly in a package. There are many different ones in different packaging, but they all look relatively the same. She can’t help but look over the vast array of colors and the bright pigment of them.

“Taehyung, what is this?” Taehyung stops looking at some other sticks that are only black to see what she’s searching for.

“Oil pastels. You want them?”

“No. They’re just really pretty, what are they for?”

“Whatever you want,” he shrugs, grabbing the largest pack on the shelf with the most colors and setting them in his handheld basket. “They are soft and creamy, so the pigment and color on the outside is the true color once you use them, and they’re good for blending colors together.”

“I told you I didn’t want them, I just wanted to know.”

“Maybe I just wanted some.”

“Lying isn’t a good way to start our friendship.”

“Our friendship will live.” He says with a shrug, leaving her with an annoyed expression.

Taehyung walks off, going back to an aisle they had already been in to grab something she can’t immediately see. She follows him again, heading up to the register and finally seeing the extra pads of paper he grabbed in a few sizes. She knows that if she questioned it he wouldn’t budge on anything she suggested, so instead she gives him an irritated look that he can’t even see. It doesn’t last long, though.

Taehyung takes his bag of supplies in one hand, and with the other he grabs her hand suddenly as he pulls her from the shop. She looks down to see his large hand wrapped with an assured grip around hers.

“There’s lots of people now, I don’t want you to be too far from me.” He explains. She looks up to find he’s right. The crowd has grown larger despite the shop they were in being almost bare.

“Okay.” Is all she can say. She’d rather be close enough to him to not get swept up in the crowd. Taehyung is the most familiar person around, so the skinship becomes the least of her worries. As he walks, many scents and looks from others give her an anxious feeling she’s still not used to. The familiar scent of Taehyung is lost despite her close proximity to him. She tightens her grip on his hand and uses her other hand to grasp at the lower part of his arm, using the closer proximity this causes to press her face close to his arm as well. The proximity calms her well enough to follow his lead closely and exit the strip mall quickly.

“Are you okay?” He asks as soon as they’re in a more secluded area outside the strip mall. She pulls away now that they’re mostly alone.

“Yeah, I’m just not used to being around that many people yet.” She keeps her grip on Taehyung’s arm despite him setting the bag at his feet and freeing his hands to rub at her upper arms. The soothing emotion is an abrupt change of intimacy that she’s never experienced from anyone but Maria. Regardless of the fact, she quickly finds the motion and contact soothing. Slowly, she calms her nerves and focuses her eyes on a worried Taehyung.

“I’m good.” She says with a sigh.

“Good.” Taehyung doesn’t stop the soothing motion even though she finally evens her breathing and feels at ease. The motion seems to be soothing Taehyung as well, loosening his shoulders with each passing second.

“Are you tired?” He asks as well.

“A little. But, only ‘cus you keep doing that.” She gestures with her head to his arms.

“It calms me too.” Is the only explanation he gives before stopping to take out his phone and send a text to someone and waits for a reply. “Namjoon is coming to pick us up, I don’t want to make you walk anymore.”

“I’m okay, Taehyung.”

“You’ll be more okay if you can rest now.”

He’s not wrong.

“Fine.”

Namjoon doesn’t take long to arrive at all, sending Taehyung a text that has him starting towards the strip mall’s parking lot with her hand in his again. There’s barely any people, but she doesn’t go against the gesture anyways.

They spot the familiar sleek, black car, finding Namjoon standing outside of it to lean on the driver’s side door.

Looking at Namjoon after seeing him no more than a day before, she can’t help but feel as though she misses him more and more the more she sees him. His sleek black clothing is far different than what he normally wears. The new look causes her to stare at the details. The sleek pants that fit him perfectly hang just above a pair of shiny black shoes. And his matching black, button-up shirt fits him even better- the cuffs folded up a couple times to reveal tan skin and a silver watch. Her staring seems to go unnoticed before Taehyung gives her a little nudge.

“What?” She asks, looking up at Namjoon as he smiles at her with quiet anticipation. He doesn’t answer verbally, but spreads his arms out wider for her to take the offer if she’d like. A hug. She immediately recognizes the soft Namjoon she knows, forgetting the fancy look to take in his scent and the appreciation of him actually being here. She lets go of Taehyung to jump into Namjoon’s arms. This time, she’s reaching up to put her arms around his shoulders. His arms envelope her immediately, adding to the warmth Taehyung instilled in her earlier. She searches for his scent unapologetically, sadly finding that there is barely any scent.

“Why can’t I smell you?” She practically whines into the neck of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I had to go into the office today for a hybrid client, so my scent needed to be covered with natural perfumes.”

“I hate it.” She draws a rumbling laugh out of him that has her insides turning.

“Noted. Did you have fun?” He asks as she finally pulls away. A now empty handed Taehyung takes her spot, getting a peck from Namjoon that she turns away from to give them privacy.

“I did.” She answers right as Taehyung pulls away as well.

Looking at the two she suddenly feels extremely out of place. Her dress is never better than sweats and t-shirts, but they seem to have an array of clothes with different purposes. As she picks at the wrist of her long-sleeve shirt, she decides that clothes shopping is another addition to her list of to-do’s once she gets a job.

“Ready to go home?” He asks as Taehyung slides into the backseat of the car.

“Yeah.” She gives a placate smile, hoping to cheer herself up. She is tired anyways from the excursion. She can feel it in her eyes and the way her tail doesn’t tightly wrap around her waist anymore.

“Let’s get the tired cubs home.” Namjoon brings his hand up to smooth down her hair and rub gently into her head. She instantly grows syrupy in feeling. His touch is always so comforting- that unused purr bubbles up again despite Namjoon only giving her the attention for a few seconds then directing her to the passenger front side of the car. He opens the door for her, even going as far as to make sure her head doesn’t hit the top of the car and leaning over her to buckle her in himself. Her cheeks heat at the extra gesture he’s never done before- her heart rate picking up again for the nth time today. She can’t stand being around them much longer if this is going to keep happening to her.

“Thank you.” She says after he climbs in behind the wheel. She looks back to find Taehyung is already fast asleep, curled up in the seat rather than seated and seat-belted in.

“He gets tired quickly, especially when he’s getting used to new routines.” Namjoon explains. “Are you too tired for a session today? Should I let the organization know?”

“No.” She answers quickly enough to be embarrassed. “I like our time together, I don’t want to give it up. I just got anxious and Taehyung helped calm me down, but it was a little exhausting. I’ll be fine with a cat nap.”

“A-ha! That was cute. Cat nap.” Namjoon actually giggles, despite how sophisticated he looks, making Y/N laugh with him.

Namjoon

After dropping Y/N off at home, Namjoon makes it home with Taehyung curled up in the backseat. He easily lifts and carries the big cat in like a giant toddler- his legs wrapped around Namjoon’s waist and head tucked into his collar, while the bag of supplies dangles from his fingers locked under the cheetah’s thighs. Going up the stairs and kicking open their shared bedroom door, Namjoon deposits the still-sleeping cat onto the soft bed. Taehyung takes no time getting comfortable and knocking out fully again.

After a shower and finishing some reports from the day’s office trip, Namjoon gets ready to leave for the organization when a call greets him instead. He answers without double-checking.

“Hey, sweetie! I was checking to see if you were still planning on seeing Y/N today?” Unexpectedly, Maria is on the other side.

“Oh hello. I was just getting ready to head over to the organization..why? Was something wrong?” A sinking in his gut greets him suddenly.

“Oh, no no! Don’t worry. I just totally forgot that Y/N had one of her check-ups today, and-” Her voice lowers a few decibels. “Well, obviously we won’t be home for an hour or two, but she always gets a little down after her appointments. They’re just a vulnerable thing for her. So- today might not be the best.” Namjoon’s relief is sudden but doesn’t quell every anxious feeling.

“Oh, that’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know when you dropped her off earlier- I was just so proud she got out of the house by herself without me suggesting it first- I totally spaced it.”

“No worries, I appreciate the heads up and I hope everything goes well.” He says with a genuine air.

“Of course. Thank you for all you do, I know she really enjoys having you around.” Namjoon gives a bitter smile only he can see. “I’ll let you go, though. Thank you for dropping her off, again- I’ll have to make you something extra tomorrow.” He gives her a soft laugh.

“No need, I’ll see you then, Maria.”

“Bye-bye, sweetie.”

Y/N

The worst about sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office is the anticipation of what’s to come-

And the awful staring.

Y/N can’t tell if it’s because she’s a cheetah hybrid, or if she just looks odd in general sitting there. Is she wearing the right clothes? She still has no idea. She always considers her comfort first, especially when her clothes never felt right when she had no choice. She still has yet to venture and try new styles but- she’s at the doctor and is most comfortable in her usual clothing. If the stares are for her cheetah ears and the unseen tail that wraps around herself underneath her clothes- she’ll have to just let them stare then. There’s nothing secret about her cheetah, she won’t let that happen to herself again. She’s tired of hiding it.

As she overthinks about being in the waiting room, the nurse calls her name after only a short while. Maria gives her hand a quick squeeze before letting her go on her own. She prefers to do this alone, but having Maria there after and before is much easier. She’s comforting in a way she hasn’t placed intentionally yet. She’s just happy she has a safe person in these events.

“How are you today?” The nurse asks. Y/N can only guess that she’s a bear hybrid based on her cute, little rounded ears that poke out of her slick backed hair. The bun is always immaculate, no hair seems to be out of place.

“I’m okay.” She answers honestly. “How are you?”

“Good, thank you. We’ll go to the usual room.” She leads Y/N with an extended arm, letting her go first. The room is in the farther pods of rooms that have the equipment necessary for the check-up.

“Here we are, go ahead and place your bottoms and underwear into the privacy bag once you’re finished- and go ahead and just sit on the table with the robe on when you’re ready. The doctor will give you a few extra minutes to settle in.” She instructs with the same smile as usual. Y/N only gives her the usual nod.

The uncomfortable paper robe is one of the worst feelings. She can’t help but think about the thin, worn-out clothing she’d wear for weeks at a time. The memories clash with the uncomfortable appointment about to take place. Trying to find a silver lining, all she can think is that ‘at least she’s able to get medical treatment’, ‘at least her hybrid genes allowed her to stay mostly unharmed with survival instincts, ‘at least this isn’t as bad as her first dentist appointment’. She allows a small ‘pfft’ of a laugh out at that memory. She hasn’t had someone poking around in her mouth since she was young- the dentist wasn’t gentle in his cleaning. Even though her teeth held up well only thanks to the fact of her cheetah, she still had four cavities that needed work done. She was so mad at the dentist for the discomfort she felt. She wouldn’t even talk to him- like little kids ‘hmph’ and ignore an adult.

knock knock

“All set, Y/N?” The always sure-sounding doctor asks through a crack in the door.

“Yes.”

“Great, how are you today?” Her warm voice asks, immediately going over to the sink to wash her hands thoroughly.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. Do you have anything you’d like to talk about specifically today? Any concerns?”

“No.”

“Alrighty then. It’ll just be the usual check-up that you’re used to. Go ahead and stand for me, we can get your weight first.” She appreciates the effort the staff put in to making her and the other patients comfortable. Maria told her that usually, doctors make you check your weight in the main halls before coming into the rooms. But here, the scales are in the rooms. She is relieved by that fact.

“Great,” She marks down the weight on her paper. “You gained a few pounds since I last saw you, that’s great progress towards your goal. Has the recommended diet been going well?”

“I think so. I eat whatever Maria makes and I have been eating more when I go out.” She answers honestly.

“That’s good! Go ahead and sit back up on the table- have you tried anything new?”

“Breakfast sausage. Strawberry syrup.”

“Ooh that sounds good.” She gives her, always sounding comforting. With another wash of her hands, she’s guiding Y/N’s legs like usual into the stirrups that sit on either side of the table. A pair of gloves are slipped on as she gives her the usual information.

“I’m just going to take a look like normal. Have you gotten your period?” Y/N sadly tells her no. She always worries that there’s something wrong with her now that she’s been informed on why she has never gotten in. Being underweight is a large part of her problem, and is probably the main reason.

“We can do an ultrasound today? It’s just imaging of the uterus. I can take a look on the spot and see if it could be any other reason. But, you’re gaining weight at a healthy rate so we could just wait and see if you’d like.”

“Does it…hurt?” She asks, unsure how they would do that.

“Not at all, it’s nice and warm though.” She gives her a light, humming laugh. “We would just put some gel right here,” She hovers over her hand over her uterus, “then I take my little ‘wand’ and press it to the spot we’re looking for, the gel helps it, and then we get a look at your uterus to see if there’s any common reasonings for missed or irregular periods.”

She thinks about the process, already stressed with her legs in the air for too long and the cold air hitting her uncomfortably.

“Can we do that next time?”

“Of course! I’ll take a quick look and then you’ll be on your way.”

For the most part, she blacks out every time she has these appointments. She slows her breathing and closes her eyes to think about literally anything else and before she knows it, it’s over.

“Okay. Everything looks good. Are you sexually active at the moment?”

“No.” She shakes her head as she awkwardly covers herself with the robe once the stirrups are moved for her.

“I think it’d be a great idea to take one of the sexual health development classes we offer. They’re free and it’s just a one time class with information that I think would be great for you. There are hybrid-only classes for specific information on non-human traits.”

She’s never thought about learning these things in a class. She always thought it’d be a learning process when she found someone she was comfortable with but- maybe this would be better. Maybe she could try something new on her own and learn more about herself that no one has offered her yet.

“Okay, that sounds nice.”

“Perfect, go ahead and get dressed and I’ll grab the pamphlet for you.” She gives her another warm smile before leaving.

“This sounds great.” Maria unashamedly looks over the pamphlet once they’re back home. “Oh no,” She suddenly looks stumped.

“What?”

“It’s on the weekend, I won’t be able to take you.”

“Oh,” she immediately deflates, but her want to do this is too great. “I can get there on my own. I can walk.”

“It’s up at the hospital, that is too far of a walk, plus you’d have to walk on the side of the highway- that’s not legal or safe.” They both think, apparently coming to the same conclusion because they look at each other with a look that Y/N tries to dismiss before even hearing the reasoning for.

“I don’t think h-”

“I can see if Namjoon would have an idea.”

“I’m not his responsibility, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well I know Richard wouldn’t be able to take you when it’s only him and one other guy at the shop on the weekends. We’ll talk to Namjoon tomorrow.”

“Mar-”

“We’ll make it work.”

If this is the parental experience she missed out on she can’t even be mad about it. She knows Maria won’t bend on this, especially after she finally has something like this she’d like to do.

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #namjoon x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic

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yumiblogs · 5 months

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TW // Eating Disorder, Diet, Cravings/Self-deprecation, self-bodyshaming

____________________

Diary entry #1

So I'm starting a diet today, Monday, it's called "the military diet". It does have good dishes but since I have to eat dinner at home or my family will notice I started a diet... Then instead of eating three times a day, I'll eat two times a day, breakfast and dinner, no snacking in-between.

I am over 200 pounds, this is the fattest I've ever been, I used to weigh around 175-180 before the pandemic which is still overweight but I wasn't like I am now. My ideal weight would be 150 pounds which I've NEVER been this weight before but I feel like I'll feel comfortable at 150 pounds... I could go lower if I ever do reach that though.

My body will never be the same, I have stretch marks all over my body, my stomach, the sides of my stomach, my arms, luckily my legs don't have stretch marks but I know they will start to appear if I don't do something about it.

I ate two eggs with avocado, toasted bread and water. I'll try my best to stop snacking. I eat everything, I did research and I think I have emotional eating disorder? I know it's bad to self diagnose but honestly that is what sounds more like what I do. Instead of crying or stressing… it’s more of the boredom. I need something to do.

I want to eat something. Today I had breakfast at 10 am then my dad got off work early so we ate dinner at 1pm… it’s almost 8am and I want food. I’m craving everything. I live in a Mexican house hold and if you do to then you’ll know that we have snacks… EVERYWHERE. Chips, cookies, fruit, sweets, junk food… like it’s a big ass problem that today alone I’ve almost relapsed about 20 times into eating anything that is in front of me.

I could just get myself some snack suplementos but let’s be for real, I would binge eat them. I don’t have control over myself so I rather starve. I’ll drink water as a supplement so much that I’d fill myself up with water that I vomit it. In between the diet I’ll throw up some of the food to speed up the process.

The military diet is supposed to make me lose weight fast, I saw someone try it and they lost 10 pounds in not even a week.

Okay imma go now, I’ll let yall know how I’m doing in the next entry :)

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pinnithin-writes · 1 year

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A Helminthic Romance

Short story about a girl who falls in love with her intestinal parasite, told through entries in the narrator's journal.

[Posting these in short installments in conjunction with the the dates of the journal entries.]

Read on Ao3

<- May//June//

June 1

Will messaged me again. I should just block his number at this point. He seriously asked me if I wanted to hang out, after everything that happened. I don’t know what he doesn’t get about “don’t speak to me again.”

I’m looking back at my entries from spring break and realizing I never actually talked about the aftermath. There’s like, a two week gap where I didn’t even write anything. I guess it was too raw then. Now that it’s been a couple months it’s kind of scabbed over, so I can poke at it a little.

After he cheated he tried to go back to how things were before. I don’t know if he was counting on me not finding out or was just planning on lying about it or what, but when I tried to confront him about it he just acted like it hadn’t happened. I had to show him the screenshots to make him actually acknowledge it.

“You can’t just act like spring break doesn’t count,” I told him, and he was like, what does it matter? I’ll never see her again. And then he added a passive aggressive comment about how he couldn’t expect me to give him everything he needed, so he filled in the gaps where he could.

I hate to say it but that was my breaking point, not the cheating. I was almost willing to forgive him and let him have another chance after that. I mean, it’s not like anyone has ever shown any romantic interest in me before him, and it’s unlikely I’ll get another shot at love anytime soon. And I did like him. I still do, really.

But then he went and said that? I gave him everything. I carved out hours of my life to hang out with him. I listened to his stories about how his parents hit him and how all his exes used and discarded him and I hugged him while he cried and I held his hand while he learned to heal.

We could have been something. He was my broken doll and I was his starving dog. The only two people fucked up enough to understand each other.

I should have known establishing a boundary would have been taken as an attack. He’s been hurt too many times to assume good intentions. But he didn’t have to turn around and cheat on me.

Just because I can’t figure out what I want doesn’t mean I’m not able to tell what I don’t want. I knew I didn’t want to move in with him after only dating for six months. It didn't matter that I was aging out of the dorms. I didn’t want to live with him because that would give him a front row seat to all the weird shit I do behind closed doors and I knew I wasn’t ready for that.

I think he took me signing the lease with Gina as a sign that I was going to leave him just like the rest of his exes. The first in a series of steps to distance myself after he showed me all the undesirable parts of him, and I’d decided I couldn’t handle it. If he knew all my undesirable parts he’d have known it would take quite a lot for me to draw the line. Maybe he tried to find where the line was early so he could save himself some heartbreak. Or something.

This is so fucking stupid that I just inherently psychoanalyze people. Thanks, Mom. He’s already wasted so much of my time, but here I am wasting more of it figuring out why he thought that was okay.

God. Whatever. The worm’s doing fine. The one inside my body, that is, not the other one. I’ve sort of gotten used to the indigestion, and it’s nice I can eat whatever I want now. It seems to perk up when I feed it chocolate covered pretzels, which is great because I love eating those.

I really thought for a second about naming the tapeworm Will, just as a funny joke to myself about how Will is a parasite, but this feels like kind of an insult to the worm. It hasn’t led me on for months only to decide I wasn’t worth the emotional effort of waiting on me. All the worm ever does is wait on me, really. It just sits there in a dark little part inside of me I’ll never get to see, waiting patiently for whatever I decide to give it. It doesn’t complain, and it never leaves because it can’t.

I think I want to be kind to it. It didn’t choose these circumstances, much like a child doesn’t choose to be born. The least I can do is treat it well while it’s forced to exist in my digestive tract.

I don’t know. I shouldn’t name it Will, but I should probably name it something, now that I think about it. We’re past the point of avoiding missing it when it’s gone - I’ll miss it. We’ve already spent so much time together and it’s always there with me. But what does one name a worm that’s attached to your intestines, eating when you eat, sleeping when you sleep, fully dependent on you?

And if we’re being honest I’m a little dependent on it, not only for getting my weight down, but for keeping me on a schedule. I’d probably be in bed all day long if the worm didn’t stir every once in a while, reminding me to go about the daily maintenance of being alive. I actually showered today because my stomach hurt so bad I couldn’t stay curled up in bed any longer. It’s like it’s reminding me to keep being a person.

Hard to pick a name for someone that important.

#made a new post for june #body horror #parasitism #disordered eating #suicidal ideation #self harm #ink #tapeworm story

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peninkwrites · 1 year

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Karl & Quackity (don't) Date - Ch 12 of ?

Quackity goes on a few dates. Karl briefly has a gun.

[CW: alcohol, implied/referenced abuse, emotional abuse, controlling behavior, suicidal ideation, guns]

Crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 11

Ch 13

Mafia AU

Quackity had slept better the rest of that night than he thought he would, largely because of Tubbo. Rather than returning to his own room, he had followed Quackity into one of the guest rooms and had all but refused to leave, gravely saying, “I’m not leaving you alone until morning. If he’s gonna come back and hurt you, he’ll have to do it in front of me.” A strange promise, but nonetheless comforting. Tubbo couldn’t promise to keep Quackity safe, but he could promise to be there.

Fear returned once that night, wherein Quackity and Tubbo both heard the door into the guest room open, both of them awake and frozen, easily sharing the massive bed, but neither of them moved. They just listened. They heard that man scoff, and the door closed, and he left. Quackity could breathe again. Schlatt likely was just checking to make sure Quackity had obeyed his last demand not to leave the house. Quackity knew Tubbo had woken up as well, but neither of them said a word, they understood the relief the other felt just fine without words, and sleep returned eventually.

Quackity did not leave the house come morning. He had a feeling he shouldn’t leave until he has Schlatt’s explicit permission, so instead he tried to make himself feel more like a person. He first goes into Schlatt’s room, only a little afraid knowing he’ll likely be asleep for several more hours, and gets some of his clothes he’s left here. He showers off the scent of fear and Schlatt’s cologne and undeniably a hint of blood, and that helps. He and Tubbo don’t talk about the night before. They don’t talk about the rug now missing from the dining room. They eat cereal in silence, both listening, waiting for Schlatt to stir.

He almost killed you last night. He will kill Karl.

Quackity feels a little like the world is ending and a little like this is just part of the same old storm that will pass in a few days. He’s grown so numb to the violence, he hasn’t grown numb to the loss. He hasn’t had much to lose before now.

“Where’s my sugar pumpkin?” Schlatt’s voice from down the hall makes both of them jump.

Quackity and Tubbo stare at each other, bewildered. Schlatt has returned to patronizing pet names, and however demeaning, it’s still too lighthearted for Quackity to trust. He knows better than to keep Schlatt waiting. Part of him wonders if he’ll round the corner right into the barrel of a gun, but Schlatt could have finished the job last night if he wanted to.

Schlatt smiles at the sight of him, no weapon drawn, leaning over to kiss Quackity’s forehead. “Hey, baby, you sleep okay?”

“Fine..?” Quackity says.

“Did the brat have a nightmare or something? He make you hold his hand?” Schlatt scoffs.

Quackity is good at talking, generally. He doesn’t know what answer is safe in this situation. He has to say something anyway. “No, no it was fine.”

“Good. He ever gets on your nerves, you can always just…” Schlatt mimes backhanding someone. “Get him to fuck off, eh?”

Quackity would rather not puke cheerios, but Schlatt isn’t making it easy for him. “It’s fine, Schlatt,” Quackity says, voice taut. Maybe if he didn’t know better, he would’ve offered more. “Tubbo’s a good kid. He doesn’t bother me.” Or a brave “I’m not doing that shit. Fucking ever.” But he doesn’t. He leaves it at that and bottles his disgust.

“Alright, alright, you’re more patient than I am,” Schlatt croons, arm around Quackity’s waist. “I was thinking, after our little spat last night, our little tiff, we could go out for breakfast,” He muffles his next words, murmured between kisses up Quackity’s neck and cheek, “you and me?”

Quackity finds all of this unnerving, but he just does what he’s always done, he keeps playing the role. “S-Sure, Schlatt, we can do that.” Quackity has a few bruises on his throat from the night before, but that’s nothing, that’s easily dismissed. Even if he ran into someone from work in public, he should be fine. He’s mostly surprised Schlatt is letting him leave the house. Then again, what trouble could he possibly find with Schlatt’s arm around his waist?

Quackity allows Schlatt to pull him back into the alley. Schlatt gets the car door for him. Quackity just stares out the window as Schlatt gets into the driver’s side. They’ve hit traffic just before the bridge to the West side, and Quackity jumps when he feels Schlatt’s hand on his thigh.

“You doing okay, pumpkin?” Schlatt glances over at him. “Why’re you all nervous?”

Quackity is torn. He’s locked in a car with the guy, he should keep playing along, but doing so is making him feel insane; so he doesn’t. “I guess I’m still a little shaken up from you almost shooting me in the fucking face.”

Schlatt sighs, but his nails don’t dig into Quackity’s thigh, he doesn’t instead slam Quackity’s head against the dash, instead he just lets go, both hands on the wheel. “You know I didn’t mean to, but still, only fair I say it, I’m sorry.”

Quackity looks over at him, puzzled, and when Schlatt glances back, he looks troubled. Quackity might even say worried. Almost like his apology is sincere. “What?”

“I don’t like scaring you, baby,” Schlatt says with a pout. “So, I’m sorry things got so messy last night.”

Quackity’s hope for sincerity dies, because if there’s one thing Schlatt likes, it’s scaring him. Nonetheless, even insincere, an apology is more than Quackity had expected.

“I… I appreciate that, Schlatt,” Quackity says carefully. “I forgive you” would have been a lie and the thought of saying “thank you” leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Schlatt smiles and doesn’t seem to take issue with that reply. “You’re gonna love this place. The coffee is top-tier.” Schlatt parks outside of some fancy french cafe. This time he doesn’t get the door for Quackity, instead saying “get the meter for me, will you, sweetheart?” and tossing him a quarter.

That kind of behavior Quackity expects more. He joins Schlatt where he holds the door open for him, and enters the restaurant. He feels Schlatt right behind him, his hand on his lower back. They’re seated at a table by the window. The restaurant is relatively crowded, considering it’s a Sunday morning, and Quackity occupies himself with staring at the other families and couples gathered here. He knows making comparisons will only make him more depressed, but it’s easier than looking at Schlatt.

Schlatt snaps his fingers in his face. “You gonna look at the menu or just space out?” He says dryly.

“I mean, I didn’t see a point,” Quackity says.

“Why?” Schlatt says mildly, a picture of innocence.

Quackity stares at him, wary. Schlatt always orders for him when they go out to eat. If Quackity ever tries, he gets cut off, “no, no he doesn’t want that. He’ll have a salad. I mean, come on, look at him,” and Quackity would prefer to avoid a repeat of that particular humiliation. If he just lets Schlatt order for him in the first place, usually it’s fine.

Quackity is trying to understand what rules Schlatt is playing by now. Is he not supposed to acknowledge that that’s how it goes? “I mean, usually you pick something for me,” Quackity says carefully.

“Today, you get whatever you want, honeypie,” Schlatt smiles. “But you should definitely try the coffee here.”

“Oh,” Quackity frowns. Quackity picks up the menu, glancing at Schlatt on occasion, feeling like he’s paranoid, he still thinks this is a trick in some way. He scans the menu with strategy in mind. What would piss him off? Quackity just ate cereal, but when the server returns, he gets pancakes, bacon, and as an afterthought black coffee, but Schlatt doesn’t cut him off, doesn’t tell him to not get the bacon, he just orders for himself.

There’s silence after the server leaves, Quackity nervous, and for once Schlatt not obsessed with the sound of his own voice. Schlatt rests his chin on his palm, other hand idly stirring sugar free sweetener into his coffee, watching him. Quackity finds he doesn’t want to break the silence first, so he tolerates it, continuing to people watch instead. The other patrons of this restaurant are all acting like normal fucking people, chatting or eating or something. Quackity doesn’t know why Schlatt isn’t talking.

“Y’know, your Mr. Beast idea was fucking good. We got ourselves a hefty profit,” Schlatt finally talks, and it’s to offer praise.

“Good. I mean, you and your boys did all the heavy lifting,” Quackity says, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s good. Damnit.

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short, baby, you thought of it,” Schlatt says sweetly. “Y’know, you’re more than a pretty face.”

That throws Quackity off. Schlatt complimenting him on something other than his appearance. “What’s gotten into you, Schlatt?” Maybe Quackity should be more reserved considering the threats Schlatt made the night prior, but if anything it’s made him feel like he has less to lose. If Schlatt is already willing to put a gun to his head, what’s pressing a few more buttons going to do?

“What d’you mean?” Schlatt says mildly.

“You’re…” Quackity’s impulse is to say you’re being sort of respectful, you’re acting decent, but he has a feeling that might be a little too blunt for Schlatt to tolerate. “I dunno. Just acting different.”

Schlatt smiles. “I did some reevaluating, Quackity. And I think lately, I haven’t been showing you just how much I value you, alright? You’re…” Schlatt reaches out and takes Quackity’s hand across the table. “Very special to me.”

Quackity stares at Schlatt’s hand holding onto his, not squeezing too tight, just holding his. “Thank you, Schlatt,” Quackity says softly.

“Uh huh?” Schlatt seems to be waiting for something.

“You’re… you’re important to me too,” Quackity says quickly. “I… I owe you a lot.”

Schlatt smiles, satiated. “Yeah, you do.” He sighs, “y’know, you can’t blame me for being a little worried. I’m an older guy. Who’s to say your cute ass won’t find someone your age?”

It’s clearly a pointed question. Quackity’s answer matters. “I mean, a younger guy can’t do for me what you do.”

“I’m glad you haven’t forgotten that, pumpkin,” Schlatt pats his hand, letting go.

Quackity is saved from thinking of a reply by their food arriving. Quackity had already had cereal that morning, and he’s a bit sick with nerves, but he eats almost as a matter of vindication. Schlatt said he could eat whatever he wanted today, so he’ll eat garbage and wait for Schlatt to make some snide comment about his looks. But the comment never comes. Schlatt lets him eat in peace, only going so far as to steal a piece of bacon off his plate. Quackity doesn’t trust it, so he keeps eating, even once he feels sick. He’s determined to not being the dainty fucking trophy Schlatt wants him to be.

“Alright, you getting the check?” Schlatt says once the bill arrives.

Quackity stares at him, frustrated dread rising up because of course there had to be a catch. Quackity decides what he eats like a fucking normal adult should, and Schlatt makes him literally pay for it.

“I’m just kidding, jesus, Quackity, don’t look at me like I shot your fucking dog,” Schlatt says dryly. He tuts him, “careful, sweetheart, people might think you’re a gold digger.” He laughs.

Quackity tries to relax, to lose the tension in his shoulders. It’s not easy, that little reminder that Schlatt has power over him, even when he lets Quackity briefly pretend he doesn’t.

In that pause, in that moment of sullen discontent, Quackity thinks of Karl. It’s been easier to stay in survival-mode, to justify not thinking about him and what he’ll have to do, but Karl worms his way into his thoughts anyway.

He misses him. It’s been less than 24 hours, but it feels like days.

“Hello? Earth to Quackity? Shit, why do you really look like I shot your fuckin’ dog?” Schlatt raises an eyebrow at him. “Pancakes weren’t any good? Were you hoping for a sugar rush?”

If that is the only dig Schlatt makes about his eating habits, it’s downright positive compared to other more critical instances.

“Sorry, Schlatt, just… y’know, thinking.”

“What about?”

Quackity hadn’t expected Schlatt to in any way give a shit about his thoughts, which means Quackity now has to come up with an answer. “I dunno. I… I like these kinds of days with you. Better than I do the other ones.” He doesn’t know why that grain of truth is what comes out, but nonetheless it does, and he can’t fathom how Schlatt is going to deal with it.

“I want more days like this, pumpkin. It’s just… hard to manage sometimes,” Schlatt says still too sweetly. Quackity reads the implication, even if this time Schlatt bothers with a polite facade. Schlatt had meant you’re hard to manage sometimes.

“Careful, maybe I’ll hold you to that,” Quackity says lightly, cautiously, but it makes Schlatt laugh.

“Come on, honeybun. This was fun, but y’know, I got shit to do today,” he tosses some cash on the table and stands. The moment Quackity is within reach, his hand is back on his waist.

When they return to the house, Tubbo appears on the upstairs landing, looking over the railing into the front hall with concern and a clear question in his eyes. Quackity just shrugs. He doesn’t know why Schlatt is acting like this either. Tubbo keeps his solemn frown, assessing Quackity’s physical wellbeing, before deciding Quackity is not urgently in need of help nor in any immediate danger and he retreats to his bedroom. It’s oddly sweet, how often Tubbo seems to think he should and can save him. Quackity just needs to make sure there’s never a time where Tubbo actually puts himself in the way.

Quackity is grateful it’s a Sunday. He has an excuse to leave the house the following morning, the real concern is whether or not Schlatt will let him. Quackity puts it off until that night, as Schlatt will be at least a little drunk. “Schlatt, I have work tomorrow.”

“Yeah? As you do every Monday? What?” Schlatt scoffs. He sits on the edge of his bed, clumsily removing his shoes, forehead damp with sweat as his body attempts to expel the alcohol. Schlatt hadn’t had anything to do tonight, so his consumption was especially excessive.

“So, you don’t care if I go?” Quackity leans against the doorframe into the bathroom. He’ll wait until Schlatt is down to join him, just to dissuade Schlatt from getting any ideas.

“Care?” Schlatt squints up at him blearily. “Why the fuck would I care?”

Quackity is irritated by Schlatt’s utter denial of his usual controlling behavior after the two of them have a fight, but he can’t pretend it doesn’t make things easier for him. “Never mind. I’m gonna take a shower,” Quackity shuts and locks the bathroom door. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering, considering he’ll be laying beside Schlatt, reeking of booze for the next eight hours. It’s something to do while he waits for Schlatt to pass out.

The problem with this being, he’s alone with his own thoughts and without a reason to hide from them. Quackity is not going to work tomorrow morning, as long as he can ensure he doesn’t have a tail, but rather to Karl’s place. Quackity is not going there merely to make sure Karl is okay, or to check on him, but instead to do far worse. He’s going to save him. Quackity almost wishes Schlatt had stopped him, if only so he could put it off for another day.

Quackity wakes the following morning and feels as if there’s a ball of lead pressing down on his chest, but he knows what he has to do. So he gets up quietly, he gets dressed in the dark, and he leaves. He’s hoping since Schlatt is still asleep, there will be no one to send a tail after him, but he circles a few random blocks just to be safe. Then, a payphone, telling work he’ll be in that afternoon, because surely this won’t take long.

It’ll be like ripping off a bandaid.

Quackity feels numb. He knows it’ll hurt worse later.

What if he isn’t home? What if he’s already left for the day?

It’s nine in the morning. You know Karl is still asleep.

He rings the buzzer.

“Hello?” Karl says. He already sounds worried, like he knows.

“Hey, Karl. It’s… It’s Quackity.”

“Oh, thank god, come up!” Karl’s relief makes Quackity feel worse.

Like ripping off a bandaid.

Quackity lets Karl hug him tightly. “I’ve been waiting, I was hoping you’d come soon, I just didn’t know…” Quackity hugs back halfheartedly, and Karl notices, pulling back. “Are you…” Karl looks him over carefully, hands resting delicately on his shoulders. He lingers on the bruises around his neck. “Are you okay?” He asks gently. “The other night, I wasn’t sure… I don’t know. So, you’re not… not hurt? Not hurt bad, I guess?”

“I’m okay, Karl. Really,” Quackity brushes his hands off. “I just… I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, yeah of course, Q,” Karl steps back, shutting his front door behind them. “Thank you.” That surprises Quackity. Karl seems to notice, and continues, rambling. “For the… for the money, and for you defending me. I had no idea what to say and then I was worried he was gonna hurt you and… I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, yeah of course, Karl,” Quackity needs to just say it, to twist the knife. “You know… you know we can’t keep doing this, right?” Quackity sounds so apologetic, so calm. He doesn’t know how he’s doing it.

“Doing… what?” Karl stares back, genuinely puzzled.

“This,” Quackity gestures between the two of them. Karl is silent. Quackity continues and it feels like he’s slowly ripping a hole through his chest. “I mean, it was fun, it really was, but it had to end at some point, y’know?”

“It was fun?!” Karl says, confusion turning sharply to exasperation. He doesn’t look hurt yet, nor scared. Quackity thinks he will. “Are you… are you messing with me? You’re not breaking up with me, are you? Like, really? ‘Cause I was at the I want to spend the rest of my life with you point, not– not it was fun.”

Quackity tries to pretend that hasn’t just knocked the air from his lungs. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Karl. I really am. I mean, I probably shouldn’t have let it go on this long, but…”

“Let what go on this long?!” Karl is sounding more and more horrified.

Quackity isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s staring at the ground. He cannot look at him. “We’re having an affair. You realize that, don’t you? I’m cheating on my partner with you, and that needs to stop–”

“If you break up with him, he will kill you! It’s not like you’re sticking around by choice!” Karl says, voice high and frantic.

Quackity remains calm. He doesn’t feel grounded in his own body right now. “You’re right, Karl. That’s why I need to break up with you. I’m not letting either of us die just for… y’know a fling.”

Karl steps closer. Quackity can see his mismatched socks. One purple with black stripes, one yellow with polka dots. Karl’s voice is so soft, scared, yes, but not quite hurt. “That’s all this is to you?”

“Yeah,” Quackity lies. He knows how to lie. Just as he knows how to destroy himself. “Yeah, I’m sorry you don’t–”

“You expect me to believe that, Q?”

Quackity is startled, forced to look up when Karl puts a shaky hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek, brown eyes wide, poring over his face, looking for the truth.

“Yeah,” Quackity says softly, looking like a deer in headlights.

Karl remains utterly focused in some way Quackity cannot quite grasp, brown eyes calculating as he continues to pore over every detail of Quackity’s face. “I think you love me,” Karl says.

What is Quackity meant to do? Say no?

“If I really loved you, I wouldn’t have even showed up here today. I would’ve let you go, cut you off cold turkey,” Quackity’s defense is a feeble one.

“I mean, isn’t that what you’re trying to do?” Karl gives him a lopsided smile and Quackity wants to smother his own fondness with a pillow. Karl’s hands rest delicately on Quackity’s waist. Quackity resists a shiver, it’s a gentle sort of intimacy, almost like Schlatt, but also not at all. He doesn’t think Karl has ever done that before.

“I think you don’t have a reason to stay here,” Quackity tries to keep his voice level, but he knows he sounds just a little hoarse, just a little weak. “You’re out of debt. I think you should find a better city. Find someone who can actually love you, Karl, because I can’t,” his voice breaks. He starts to step away, and he realizes Karl is holding onto him. So his hands go to Karl’s and pull them away. Karl lets go, and Quackity steps toward the door. “I cannot love you. And it’s not fair to you for me to keep pretending that I can.” Quackity half turns, he has his hand on the doorknob, but he stops. Because Karl has a gun. His gun.

Quackity’s blood runs cold, his right hand remains on the doorknob, his left fumbles weakly for a holster he knows will be empty. “Karl, please,” Quackity says weakly.

Karl does not raise the gun. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with it, holding it loosely in his left hand, holding it barely with a few fingers on the grip, but that could change very fast. “Hear me out, alright? If you… if you want to break up with me, if you don’t love me, that’s okay! It’s… it’s survivable,” Karl says insistently.

Quackity’s eyes remain focused on the gun at his side, his head is spinning. Quackity presses himself against the door. “Please… I’m sorry, just, please…”

“But if you do love me,” Karl continues desperately, certainly. “If you love me, and you still ask me to leave, to leave this city, to leave you, I will…” He nods toward the front door and starts to raise the gun almost as if to point, but at least knows enough not to. “I will go right back to Schlatt and try to kill him too.”

Oh. “Thank fucking god…” Quackity’s legs feel like jello, he sinks back against the front door and to the floor.

“What?” Karl stares at him bewilderedly. “You… you want me to?”

“What?” Quackity almost isn’t paying attention now. Karl stole the gun for Schlatt. That was all. The rest of it catches up to him. “No! No no no, no I fucking don’t Karl,” Quackity staggers to his feet, stumbling forward, reaching out to grab the gun, but Karl yanks it back, holding it behind him and high above his head. He’s got just enough height on Quackity that it’s out of reach. Bastard. “Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Quackity shouts.

“Nope! I’m not giving it back until you say you don’t actually love me!” Karl says, both deadly serious and somehow turning this into the most absurd game of keep-away.

“Karl! You’re being–” Quackity doesn’t even know what he’s being right now. “You can’t go back there, you can’t go with a fucking gun, jackass! You’d–”

“Get shot?” Karl steps closer to him, a tight hold still on the gun, but he leans in until his face is inches from Quackity’s. “Probably. So don’t ask me to go.” Karl’s eyes are alight with desperate, fierce conviction, his hair is still askew from sleep, he’s in his fucking socks, and he’s, tragically, incredibly attractive to Quackity right now.

Priorities. Despite the heroics, Quackity knows Karl is being cruel, maybe as cruel as he’s being right now too. “That’s not fair,” Quackity shakes his head, stepping back before he can give in and kiss him instead. “That’s like saying if you leave me I’ll kill myself, that’s no better than Schlatt–“

“What, because you trying to break up with me right now isn’t to hurt yourself?” This time, Karl doesn’t let him back away, he steps closer, he throws the gun on the bed behind him, because he knows Quackity won’t be getting past him to get to it. “You heard me, if you mean it, if you want this, I go away, you can take your gun and leave, and you’ll never hear from me again, but if you don’t…” Karl stops with a few feet left between them, sure to give Quackity room to breathe. Quackity realizes his eyes are shining now; Karl doesn’t bother wiping tears from his face. He hesitates another moment, finally certainty traded for weakness, and reaches out a hand for Quackity to take. “Quackity, please. Please, Q.”

Quackity stares at the offered hand, knowing it may well be a noose for them both. Quackity’s chest feels very tight, there’s a lump in his throat, but he can break down about this alone in his car later. He’d heard Karl, there’s a way out of this for them both. One more lie. He opens his mouth to say it, to save him.

Lie to him. Lie to him. Tell him you mean it, tell him you want him gone, save him.

I don’t love you.

“I don’t…” Quackity falls forward, holding onto Karl tightly, body wracked with sobs. “I don’t wanna lose you…”

You selfish piece of shit.

“F-Fuck, I don’t… I don’t wanna lose you, I’m so sorry, Karl, I’m so sorry, I can’t do it!” Quackity is begging Karl for forgiveness, even when Karl had been the one to beg him to stay. “I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t want you dead, but I don’t know how I can keep doing this without you, I’m so fucking sorry…”

Karl hugs him back tightly, face buried in the crook of his neck, gentle and yearning. “I… I can’t tell if you’re still breaking up with me or not,” he says weakly.

Quackity laughs through the tears. “I’m not! I… I guess I’m not.” He can’t stop himself. “Sorry.”

Karl pulls back, cupping his face, leaning in so their noses almost touch. He’s still crying too, sweeter tears. “Why are you sorry, Quackity?” He’s smiling. “Why could you be sorry right now?” He’s relieved.

Quackity has run out of words, so he just holds onto fistfuls of Karl’s sweatshirt, and stops trying to bury sobs. He couldn’t lie to Karl, and now he can’t bring himself to offer one last awful truth. Because I think I just killed you.

Quackity pulls back and halfheartedly punches Karl in the chest. “And don’t you ever pull a fucking gun on me again! Do you hear me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He isn’t sure if he’s serious or not.

“Pull a gun on you?!” Karl seems surprised. “I was barely holding it! It wasn’t…” Karl’s hands rest so lightly on his shoulders, as some icy epiphany chills his blood. “Oh god, Q, you didn’t… oh my god, oh my god, Quackity, I… I didn’t think you’d… I thought you’d see how I was holding it, and with what I said, I thought… oh my god how did I not think?!” Karl’s eyes somehow get wider. “You were scared of me.”

“J-Just for a second,” Quackity doesn’t know why he feels embarrassed. “And I think… I think another night, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten all fucked up about you holding it loosely with a limp wrist,” he laughs feebly. “Just been…” he sighs, eyes closed, leaning against Karl’s chest. “Just been a bad few days for me and guns…”

“Oh,” Karl says. Then he thinks. “It’s been…” his arms wrap around Quackity so delicately. “Are you… are you okay?” He asks with the same care, voice soft and worried.

Quackity swallows back another sob, trying to talk coherently, instead he can only let his fear slip away in a trembling whisper. “I think he’s gonna kill us, Karl. One of these days, maybe soon, maybe fucking not, but I think he’s gonna kill us both.”

“You’re probably not gonna like this, but… I don’t mind,” Karl actually seems to mean it. “If I’m spending those days between now and whenever that happens with you…” Karl shrugs. “I dunno. There are worse ways to live a life.”

Quackity laughs weakly. “I dunno how I didn’t realize how fucking crazy you are…”

Karl laughs too. “Well, I spotted exactly how crazy you were the moment I met you, and went: whoa, he’s definitely the one!” A pause, Karl kissing the top of his head. “And hey, the one good thing about your messed up mob boss partner being like, what, ten years older than you?”

“Sixteen-ish?”

“Yeesh.”

“Shut up about it.”

“Sorry, uh, even better, actually! Point is, he’s gonna die before we do! Right? That’s like, depending on death and math and stuff, sixteen years for us to live our life together, JSchlatt free!” Karl says brightly. “We could adopt a kid a little older, maybe a six year old or something, and they’ll be like, a functioning adult by the time we kick the bucket, y’know, together! I dunno, do we want kids? If we get a dog, that’s perfect, it’ll live to be about sixteen, right? If we take really good care of it? We’ve got a whole lot of time to figure it out, though, and then sixteen years to do it. We can do a lot in sixteen years.”

Quackity laughs. “Sure, Karl. I can’t fucking wait.”

A pause, and then Quackity tells Karl more truths he shouldn’t, burdens not meant to be shared, but unbearable otherwise. “He… he almost shot me in the head the other night,” he says softly.

“What?” Karl pulls back, looking Quackity head on with the exact same pale terror Quackity should never have pushed on him. “He…”

“I… I don’t think he meant to, but…” Quackity sniffs, somehow the fear and grief drained out of him now. “Didn’t seem like he was trying not to either.”

Karl understands with guilt churning in his gut why Quackity was scared by him holding a gun. “Q…”

“And then he…” Quackity laughs, a hint of bitter hysteria mingling with the tears. “And then like, right after he tried to get in my pants, so…” He wipes his eyes, shrugs, and tries for a smile, tries to act like what he’s saying is a joke or an inconvenience and not a near death experience. “Told him to fuck off. A-And he didn’t shoot me, so…”

Karl is at a loss for words. He’s thinking about that gun behind him again.

“I’m thinking I should just call off work for the day.” Quackity is so tired.

“Definitely. I’ll call off too. I know the man in charge really well,” Karl tries to make a joke. Quackity laughs.

“And then can we… can we just go to bed?” Quackity asks.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Quackity falls asleep, legs intertwined with Karl’s, curled up against him, and contentment makes peace with pain, the two of them persisting side by side, settled within Quackity’s chest.

When he wakes to the evening sun streaming in through Karl’s curtains, he cannot regret the day, even as fear once more grips him.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck,” Quackity mutters furiously, putting back on his suit, going to Karl’s kitchen sink to splash some cold water on his face.

“You okay?” Karl mumbles drowsily.

“It’s… it’s seven. It’s fucking seven, I… I should’ve left work hours ago, and…” Quackity sighs aggravatedly, firmly returning his gun to its holster. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine! I’ll think up some excuse, I dunno.”

“Okay,” Karl says in a way that clearly indicates he wants to do more.

“It’s alright, Karl,” Quackity kisses Karl’s forehead in parting.

Karl smiles sleepily. “You’re alright…” he lays back down.

Quackity smiles, and fondness is allowed to remain, even as he rushes out the door and back to Schlatt’s.

Quackity braces himself before entering the townhouse. He knows what to expect, and honestly, Schlatt shouting at him is an easy outcome.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Schlatt comes up behind him, slamming the front door shut, trapping him inside.

“I just… I just needed some space,” Quackity backs away. “Alright? Just… just wanted some time to think. I parked down by the bay and… just checked out the boardwalk a bit, shit like that. I didn’t realize how late it had–” Quackity cuts himself off, startled when he backs away enough to hit the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

Schlatt stares down at him, eyebrows furrowed and jaw set, anger more muted than usual as he considers something carefully. “Some space. To think.”

“Yeah, Schlatt. To think,” Quackity stands up straighter. He doesn’t know what’s running through Schlatt’s head right now, but it makes him nervous.

“And? What’d you come to?” Schlatt bounces from foot to foot, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves in what might be mistaken for a nervous habit. Schlatt doesn’t get nervous. Quackity had expected a dig like when have you ever thought in your goddamn life? or pretty sure you need a brain to think, sweetheart, and whatever Schlatt is doing now is definitely not that.

“What did I… what d’you mean? What did I come to?” Quackity doesn’t know what’s fucking happening.

Schlatt glances to the man posted at the door, to the lackeys clearly waiting for him in the dining hall. “Dinner… we should get dinner. You had dinner yet?”

“No, no I haven’t.” Quackity can’t remember Schlatt ever acting like this before. From the first night Schlatt brought Quackity home from a bar, to Schlatt offering to pay for his law school, to explaining the expectations of Quackity dating him, to the first time he hit him, to the next time he hit him, throughout all of it, there was only ever anger or arrogance. Not… whatever this is.

“Well, come on, then, let’s fucking go, you wanna stand here all night?” Schlatt nods him toward the back alley where he’d parked. “Where’s…” Schlatt glances up at the stairs. “Where’s the brat? You like him, don’t you?”

“What, Tubbo?”

“Tubbo!” Schlatt shouts upstairs. “Get your ass down here, right now! We’re going out!”

Tubbo rushes down the hall, pale and frightened, even more puzzled not to see his father waiting with a weapon of some sort and instead standing impatiently beside a bemused Quackity.

“Can you hear? Hm? Do you understand what I am saying?” Schlatt says slowly, mockingly. “I said get down here. Are you gonna make me ask again?”

“S-Sorry, sir, I don’t really know what’s… what’s happening,” Tubbo says a little breathlessly as he comes down the stairs, glancing between Schlatt and Quackity with wide eyes.

“We’re going out,” he snaps his fingers and points toward the back door. Quackity and Tubbo know their cue well and exit, exchanging puzzled glances. Tubbo gets in the back seat behind Quackity in the passenger side. Quackity glances at his pale reflection behind him in the side view mirror. Neither of them are quite sure where this is going. Part of Quackity thinks Schlatt is going to start driving and not stop, not until they’re on some countryside back road where he can make the two of them start digging their shared grave.

Schlatt allows them to drive in silence for a few minutes, before he drums on the steering wheel loud enough Tubbo and Quackity both jump.

“Come on! Why’s it feel like a fuckin’ funeral in here?” Schlatt laughs. “Lighten up, will you?”

“I’m… I’m light, Schlatt,” Quackity tries to sound as such. “Just… y’know, didn’t expect this.”

“What? Going out to dinner? I take you out to dinner all the time!” Schlatt says.

Yeah, but not when you should be pissed at me, and not with Tubbo.

“Yeah, I know,” Quackity isn’t sure what to say to appease him.

“But? Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” Schlatt glances at him often as he drives. “What, is it ‘cause of the kid?” He nods back to Tubbo, but speaks about him as if he weren’t actually part of this conversation. “I thought you liked the kid! Thought maybe it would be some… some nice family bonding or whatever the fuck.” Schlatt laughs, sharp and broken by a cough, “you could stop practicing law, be a stay at home mom, wear a cute little apron and shit.”

“Mom?” Quackity blusters, eyes narrowed.

“Aw, I’m sorry, dollface, did that come across as emasculating?” Schlatt says sarcastically. Schlatt frowns, seems to shake himself. “Sorry, sorry, meant more like…” he mutters, mulling over his words. “Just, you sticking around, eh? I mean, Tubbo is sticking around, right, sport?” He glances up at the rearview mirror.

Tubbo is startled as he’s spoken to. “Y-Yes, Schlatt.”

“Attaboy,” Schlatt nods, looking almost relieved. “Would you look at that, we’re here,” Schlatt pulls into a lot. “It’s… it’s Mexican! Supposed to be good.”

Quackity stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “You don’t like Mexican.”

“Yeah, but you do, obviously, so,” Schlatt gestures to the restaurant. “What about you, Tubbo, you like Mexican?”

“Um. Only really had tacos, but I liked them,” Tubbo says.

“Great! Fucking great…” Schlatt gets out of the car, enthusiasm painfully forced. The man is acting like he’s being made to drink cough syrup with a smile.

Quackity and Tubbo only risk one more baffled look before they get out of the car to follow him. Tubbo sticks close behind him.

“Table for… for three, I guess,” Schlatt gives Tubbo another glance, as if he too is puzzled by him being there. “You, uh, you need a kid’s menu or some shit?”

“I’m… I’m fourteen,” Tubbo says, voice still incredibly small even as he’s confused by Schlatt actively talking to him.

“Fourteen?” Schlatt raises his eyebrows, giving Tubbo a surprised once over. “Fourteen… huh,” he turns back to the host. “Gotta get the kid some protein or some shit. He looks about eleven, don’t he?”

The host doesn’t seem to know how to reasonably respond to that, and instead escorts them to a table. Quackity sits at Schlatt’s right, so Tubbo can sit on the opposite side of the table a bit further from the man. Tubbo is already small, but he sinks down in his chair, staring at the menu.

“Order whatever you want. Both of you, I don’t give a shit,” Schlatt says like he’s offering them a generous gift.

Quackity is staring at the menu but he’s certainly not paying attention to it, instead his mind is racing trying to figure out how this night is going to end for both of them. Why would he care this much if he was just gonna kill you both? Maybe it’s because of Tubbo. Maybe he feels bad about killing him, so you both get one last nice night. He’s never given a shit about Tubbo before. And you know he’s not squeamish about killing kids in general.

“I know this is boring as shit, but after this, you and me, we’ll have drinks back at the house, how about that?” Schlatt nudges Quackity.

“Whatever is fine, Schlatt,” Quackity says. “This is… this is good,” he adds, some part of him feeling like he should be rewarding this behavior. “It’s great.”

“Yeah?” Schlatt smirks, eyebrows raised. “It’s great. Wow, Quackity HQ thinks this is great,” Schlatt drums his fingers on the table, still agitated. “I’m sold,” he says sarcastically. “High fucking praise from the man himself…”

Quackity stares at Schlatt, looking him in the eye, wondering for a moment if Schlatt had done coke earlier. His eyes aren’t dilated.

“What?” Schlatt says defensively.

“Nothing,” Quackity fumbles to think of an explanation for why he’s staring. “You just… you look good. And you’re being good. I… I appreciate that, Schlatt.” Quackity isn’t sure how much he’s lying anymore.

“You’re welcome, baby,” Schlatt holds his hand. “You know I only want what’s good for you, don’t you?”

“I know,” Quackity says hesitantly. It’s strange, if Quackity had said it steadily, certainly, it would have been easy to know it was a comfortable lie. The hesitation is what makes him nervous, scared for himself and whatever dangerous cogs are turning in his own head.

Schlatt smiles, glancing across the table. “So, Tubbo.”

Tubbo jumps so hard Quackity hears him bang his knees on the table. “Yes, Schlatt?”

“You keeping up with your school shit? All the… curriculum books or whatever it is I pay for, you putting ‘em to good use?” Schlatt asks it with the intonation of someone who has just realized kids are sentient people with independent thoughts.

“Yes, sir. Um, the last… grades I got, I suppose, would have been state testing last spring a-and I passed just fine,” Tubbo says uneasily, clearly resisting the urge to look over at Quackity for support.

“Good lad, Tubbo. Keep it up. Keeps the state off our door, otherwise who knows, might have to just send you to military school,” Schlatt laughs sharply. “And last thing I need is you turning into a fuckin’ bootlicker.”

Tubbo looks mildly panicked and clearly has no idea what to say. He’s saved by a well-timed server coming for their orders.

Quackity tries to do most of the talking from that point on. First by asking about how things are going liquidating the last of Mr. Beast’s assets, a sour topic, perhaps, but the only one he can think of, followed by warily talking about his most recent cases when Schlatt asks him about his work too. It feels… normal. Quackity is trying to think back on which moment this evening might’ve been where he stepped into the twilight zone.

The car ride home is quiet, Schlatt apparently having run out of things to talk about besides himself, so he just fiddles with the radio. Quackity is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Returning to the house and therefore a shred of normalcy would almost be a relief, if not for the fact being out of public means away from witnesses, but again, they don’t come home to a room covered in plastic for easy disposal, nor does Schlatt make any grand threats of harm, not toward Quackity, nor Tubbo.

“Alright, kid, it’s probably your bedtime. The adults are gonna have a drink,” Schlatt gives Tubbo a pat on the shoulder.

Tubbo nods and quickly makes his exit, despite the fact it is 9:30 and definitely not his bedtime. Quackity almost envies him, but… he doesn’t. Not really. Because if Schlatt isn’t going to kill him, he kind of wants to see where the rest of the night goes.

Schlatt comes up behind Quackity, squeezing his shoulders. “Come on. Sit down, I’ll make you a drink.”

Quackity lets Schlatt push him down onto a loveseat in the lounge. He accepts the glass of whiskey, briefly puzzled by the mint in it, before he realizes when Schlatt said I’ll make you a drink, he meant he’d make him a drink, not just whatever would get them both drunk the fastest. Quackity is feeling some eerie deja vu. Schlatt hadn’t made him a proper drink since the first nights he’d taken him home. Schlatt had seemed so fucking charming then. He knew how to make cocktails, and he had a bunch of records, and he was super fit, and he clearly had money, and he’d given a shit about Quackity of all people, homeless, nineteen, abandoned by his ex, and Schlatt had wanted him. Quackity never stood a chance.

Schlatt sits beside him with his own drink, arm around him, but not holding on tight, just resting behind his shoulders. “What’re you thinking about, baby?”

Quackity is honest. “You… you haven’t made a drink for me in a while.”

“Have I not?” Schlatt doesn’t look at him, seemingly mulling this over, and Quackity hates that he’s remembering he finds Schlatt handsome. “Well, if you like it, I should try and do it more,” he smirks, taking a sip from his own drink. “Why don’t I… I’ll put on the evening news, and we can figure out how much we’re responsible for, eh? That’s a fun game. Haven’t done that in a while,” Schlatt nods, reaching for his remote. Schlatt leans back, and Quackity realizes he’s leaning in, resting against Schlatt and letting him put his arm around him.

This would be great, if you hadn’t pussied out and had actually ended things with Karl. But you didn’t.

Quackity takes another swig of his drink. When he finishes it, Schlatt makes him another, topping off his own glass as well. This pattern repeats until midnight. Quackity almost falls asleep on the couch, he’s more confused when Schlatt scoops him up and starts to take him upstairs, the least alarming thing about this being Schlatt bitterly muttering, “I buy you two meals and it already feels like you’ve put on a few pounds…” and staggering slightly, but his alcohol tolerance is far higher than Quackity’s, so he manages to get them both upstairs without anyone hitting the ground. Quackity is so sleepy. He’s kept awake by the jostling motion of Schlatt walking, but he’s not sure how much longer that will last. Schlatt sets him down on his side of the bed. Quackity curls in a ball, holding onto one of the pillows, ready to pass out.

Schlatt, in his mild cognizance, changes out of his suit and kicks off his shoes, coming back to find Quackity still contentedly half asleep in his own suit.

“You gonna sleep like that? Get your fuckin’ shoes off my bed,” Schlatt grumbles, but at the same time, he slips Quackity’s shoes off. Schlatt sighs when Quackity still doesn’t move. “Come on, sit up. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Mhm…?” Quackity mumbles, letting Schlatt pull him away from his pillow.

“I’ll help you with the fuckin’ buttons… I know how much they suck…” Schlatt mutters, unbuttoning Quackity’s shirt. Quackity decides to participate in slipping off his suspenders. Once his suit is off, much happier in his undershirt and boxers, Quackity leans against Schlatt, who is warm and somewhat stable and for once Quackity doesn’t mind the smell of booze because he knows it’s on his breath too. Quackity feels like he’s on autopilot, leaning up to kiss Schlatt, he doesn’t know how else to earn the man holding him.

“Hey,” Schlatt pulls his arms from around his neck, before one hand goes under Quackity’s chin, so he looks up at him from sleepy eyes. Schlatt, if Quackity didn’t know any better, he’d say looked sad, or even sorry. Schlatt sighs, looking at Quackity like that. “Fuck, you really are gorgeous, huh?” Schlatt says it like Quackity wasn’t really meant to hear it. He kisses Quackity’s forehead and gets up, laying Quackity down and even pulling the blanket up over him. He circles to his side of the bed. The lamp goes out.

Quackity is sleepy, drunk, and very confused. He rolls over to face Schlatt. “Schlatt…?” He mumbles, in his fog still sensing something not quite right. Schlatt doesn’t reply at first. Quackity reaches out in the dark until his fumbling hands find scruff and damp cheeks. Schlatt’s hands, so much bigger than his, so much stronger, gently take Quackity’s in his own, kissing his palm, cradling them.

“Fucking hell, Quackity,” Schlatt, if Quackity didn’t know any better, almost sounded like he had a tremor in his voice. “I love you so much, baby, you know that, don’t you?”

Automatic, also terribly easy, Quackity replies. “Love you too…”

“I fucking hope so,” Schlatt says it, not with confidence, not as an assumption, but as if pleading. “I love you so much, and I don’t wanna lose you, alright? I’m so sorry, baby, I know I’m not easy to love, but I just– I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

Quackity feels more awake. I don’t want to lose you. His voice. I don’t want to lose you. Schlatt’s. Quackity sits up, the room tilts slightly and that just makes it worse as he stumbles toward the bathroom, getting lucky enough to collapse in front of the toilet before he pukes. He hears Schlatt follow, and first thinks he’s about to hear some biting comment about him not being able to hold his liquor, but he doesn’t actually know what to expect anymore.

Schlatt sighs, crouching down beside him, rubbing his back until Quackity stops. Maybe now the insult will come. Maybe that fact will be a saving grace which gets those words out of Quackity’s drunken skull. Instead, Schlatt stands. “I’ll get you some water.” He leaves, and Quackity watches him go, and he wonders if he’s going to remember this in the morning. He hopes he won’t. He thinks he probably will.

I don’t wanna lose you.

Maybe you’re perfect for each other.

#wahoo excited for this guy #my writing #mafia au #honq #this one fucks me up <3 #as always feedback is cherished <3 #c!quackity #quackity #cabinetduo

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fixated-frenzy · 2 years

Text

Short-Lived series

There are a few tv shows/ series that I’ve gotten into over the years that I find really entertaining. These shows either have short episodes, less than 3 seasons, or were cancelled after one season. Unfortunately, a lot of shows on Netflix or other streaming services happen to not get good advertising or they just simply don’t do well. But I’m here to show you the ones I wish that they continued. Here’s my list of my favorite short-lived series for a quick watch.

1. I Am Not Okay With This

This show was very short lived with 1 season. It is available to stream on Netflix and is definitely worth a quick watch if you don’t want to commit to a long series. The show is about a teen girl struggling with finding herself dealing with family issues, sexuality and her new found powers. Sydney is a very relatable character and even if the show was short, you go through a rollercoaster of emotions just like Sydney does. It gets funny, dark, relatable, awkward, and serious all just in one season. I definitely recommend this show to anyone who just wants someone to relate to 10/10

2. The Hollow

Now the hollow is interesting, it would have been great at 1 season, but they had a second season. I still enjoyed the show, however they cancelled it after season 2! There was so much to unpack after season two that we were just left on a bit of a cliffhanger. I’m a bit upset that it’s cancelled, but I will say the show is still worth a watch. I was able to finish a season in a day, so it’s pretty short. It is about these 3 teenagers who wake up in a strange place not knowing where they are, but once they figure out what’s going on, there’s a twist ending. There’s a lot of theories as to what happened after season two, so if you want a series that will really make you think, this one’s for you! 8/10!

3. First kill

First kill is a show that really stuck with me, however, Netflix cancelled it after one season. It really makes me mad because it’s allegedly the marketing teams fault for it being cancelled because of not advertising it much, thus low viewership. But let’s not get into what makes me mad about it, let’s talk about what’s good about it. First kill is a story about a vampire and a vampire hunter who fall in love. Well, it’s not exactly that simple. There’s death, passion, sacrifice, and plot twists what make this series great. If you’re looking for a show with action, spice, and relationship drama, then this one’s for you! 9/10!

4. Twelve Forever

Cancelled after one season, twelve forever us a very memorable series to watch if you want something quick. Twelve forever is about a girl named Reggie who doesn’t want to grow up so she creates a key to a fantasy land for her to visit whenever she wants to escape. This show has lots of comedy, relatability, and great character designs. If you love cartoons and escapism, this show is for you! 9/10!

5. Red band society

Red band society is a great show to watch if you want a slice of drama and sadness. Aired in 2014 and cancelled after one season, red band society captures the stories of 6 kids who live in a pediatric ward and (almost) all of them become friends. Though, this show has some triggering content such as eating disorders, surgeries, death, and obviously, hospitals. But if you can handle that sort of thing, I definitely recommend this show! 8/10!

And there you have it! These series will always live in my heart no matter how short they were! :) 💕R

#red band society #twelve forever #first kill #the hollow season 2 #i am not okay with this #cartoons #animation #tv

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overplannedbutunnamednpc · 10 months

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1, 3, 30 for glade, 8 and 16, for Nyxi, and 12 for Legacy

Glade:

1. Things you said before you knew any better

It was strange these days to have Ruin actually be here.

Not that Glade minded it! Quite the opposite! His baby sister was always welcome. She was also pretty good at finding whatever place Glade had picked to squat in that week, which was… well, Glade frankly didn’t know how she did it every single time, when not even the Crownsguard had noticed his hovel-hopping, but he wasn’t a complainer when it came to Ruin.

She didn’t take up much space, either. Physically or emotionally. Ruin was only an inch or two clearing five foot, and not much of a talker.

Not much of an emotional talker, at the very least. Glade could throw a dart blindfolded at a wall filled with feelings words and be about as sure of where it would land as he was sure about his baby sister’s inner thoughts.

It made it all the more surprising when Ruin sat down heavily next to him on the place’s couch, unwrapping the foil off her baked potato as if it didn’t just come out of the oven and biting into it like a corn dog, and asked, “So what’s with you and that bodyguard?”

Glade, who couldn’t just eat or pick up recently-baked potatoes, dropped his fork, and then swore. Elvish, which surprised him. He’d been picking something up, apparently, but not the part of the language he’d actually find useful, of course. “Uh— what do you mean?”

“Playing dumb doesn’t work on me,” Ruin replied. “You fed me long enough for me to recognize when you’re counting coins.” She held up her fingers, counting them off as she continued. “You put some aside yesterday while buying dinner for us, and took it with you when you went to 'temple' this morning."

Her free hand does the air quotes for temple. Glade stuffs a too-hot piece of potato in his mouth and does his level best to not spit it out when it's still too hot.

"Then, when I go to pick you up from the terrors of organized religion, what do I see but you with a tat-faced tiefling and two cups of hot coffee, just laughing away. She's got palace guard garb on, but she was hanging out with you instead of going directly to the palace for shift change, so she's not a regular guard. Ergo, bodyguard. Crownsguard bodyguard. Who you're buying coffee."

Glade winced. He hoped he could pass it off as his burnt mouth. "Uh."

"Gotcha." Ruin leaned back to focus on her own dinner. "Does she know you're a no-good criminal?"

"Of course she doesn't," Glade replied, defensive. "She's Crownsguard. She'd have to turn me in. Both of us, if you were here, too."

"So you're just buying her coffee... what, to throw her off your scent or something?"

Glade shook his head, almost violently. "No! No, nothing like that! That makes it sound like I'm... tricking her or something."

Ruin hummed, then, singsongy, "So you're just in loooooove."

Glade studiously ignored the feeling that evoked in him. Ruin didn’t know what she was talking about. Just because she saw the two of them talking— no. And it would never work, anyway.

“No, c’mon. It’s not like that. We’re just, you know, hanging out. We’re friends. She’s too… Crownsguard for me, anyway.”

“Okay, man. You do you.” Ruin looked him over a little too knowingly. “But I’m telling you now, I am not wearing anything pastel for your wedding.”

3. Things you said before leaving

The two of them died angry.

Which, yeah. He couldn't say he blamed them. He had taken to wearing two handkerchiefs soaked with water over his mouth and nose so that the smoke didn't kill him, too.

It still seemed to be working, which was nice.

Hrall—Glade Razed, maybe, he hadn’t decided—was exhausted. And he wasn’t angry, though he didn’t really know why. Maybe he was too tired, but Kriviri—Rest Ruined?—was tired, too, and she was angry. She was thinking she’d shorten the whole thing to just Ruin.

He just kind of felt… numb. Though.

The druids that actually had shown up weren’t able to stop the eruption, but at least most of them stayed. It would have been a lot more difficult to bury everyone if they hadn’t.

Even that, though, was done. All that was left was ashfall and broken buildings, two dead parents and two new names.

He probably did have to use the new name.

“Sir?” asked Alasse. They had taken to using the word lately, because he didn’t know if he’d use the new name, and they said they admired his strength and weren’t calling anyone else anything respectful here, so it may as well go to him. “Our wagon is almost ready. I was wondering if you were still coming with.”

“In a second,” he promised. He and Ruin had nowhere else to go, after all. “I just…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Alasse waited for the end, and, when it didn’t come, simply nodded. They looked over the scene, too, in the detached way they had. “Something will grow here,” they said. “But not in the time it will take for you to kill yourself waiting for it.”

“Something will grow here,” he repeated.

“I can promise it,” they confirmed. “Are you ready to go?”

Glade Razed. It sat badly on his back. He straightened up a bit. Mentally rewrote it. Recontextualized it. Razed now, but not forever. “I’m ready as I can be, I think. Alasse?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You can call me Glade.”

30. Things you said when you should have been quiet

One day, Glade was going to get in trouble for this.

Amaunator was a goddess of the sun, so her temple was almost never open at night, except for the summer solstice and Longest Night. Glade wouldn’t know this, except Lent had complained enough when she was taking shifts as Iris’ day guard that she could pretty much never go to temple considering her off hours were spent either sleeping or in the dark.

Didn’t affect Glade much, really. He didn’t go to temple except to see her, back when, and he could always think of more interesting things to do in the dark anyway.

It was well past sundown. He wouldn’t see anyone. The place had surprisingly terrible security, too, for being a temple of Amaunator, a temple for the Crownsguard. Then again, they probably didn’t expect anyone to be stupid enough to break into a temple of the Crownsguard.

Normally, Glade wouldn’t be this stupid, but that was under normal circumstances. Sometimes, things weren’t normal. Sometimes, Lent woke up clawing at her eyes and sobbing, convinced she was blind because they didn’t have the lights on. Sometimes, the city got a new infusion of Crownsguard recruits, and ninety-five percent of them whispered and cowered from him, convinced he was some sort of criminal mastermind, and the other five percent were brave enough to spit at his back, and Glade had to take it nicely because he wasn’t about to make a scene while buying squash. Sometimes, he had to play nice with Endurance, because both Iris and Glade were visiting the city at the same time, and Iris had been hoping to make friends with another person associated with the Motherfuckers.

These things alone would probably have been enough to make him angry, but he could have been angry within his own four walls. (Lent’s four walls? It was her adventuring money, but then again, it was him staying there full-time.)

These things all together? Well.

So, yeah, he shouldn't be doing this, but he wanted to. It was pretty unlikely he got caught. If he did, well. Lent would be coming home to a hell of a scene. But he wouldn't be caught. And he had to.

He had to.

The temple was beautiful. Large stained glass windows and white marble meant to reflect the light at all points of the day. Some cunningly-positioned mirrors and crystals reflected enough light into the place that it was always lit like high noon even late in the day. Yes, it was a beautiful temple.

Glade struggled not to throw one of the heavy holy books out one of the fragile, fragile windows.

“You raise your children to be sanctimonious, obsessed, ignorant, selfish, violent bastards,” he said, whirling on the altar instead. Amaunator wasn’t depicted as a humanoid here. She was the Sun in the window behind the altar, the books of Neilian law in the shelves in the back rooms. She was the fragile book of prayer the high priest Ferire put on clean gloves to open every morning, the same book Glade would drive a dagger through if it wouldn’t get him hunted down like a dog and Lent in more trouble than she already was. There was still enough to hiss expletives at.

“And you have the fucking gall to pretend as if Relentless still might belong with you. To allow her to believe there’s still some reconciliation because there’s something, anything, that links you and her. Anything at all that makes you similar. There isn’t. You are manipulative. You are unbending in the same way cold iron is, and you are exactly as brittle. You aren’t worth being scraped off a shoe alongside horse shit, and you call yourself a fucking goddess! As if you don’t see what they do! As if you didn’t see what they did to her! Either you are as powerful as that book calls you, in which case you are cruel and a coward, or you’re weak, sniveling, and pathetic.” He’d gotten past hissing. He was yelling. Whoops. “I’m inclined to think you’re both. Cruel, pathetic, self-serving, you—”

He heard a door open deeper in the temple.

Fuck.

Glade wasn’t supposed to be here. One day, he was going to get in trouble for this.

Not today, though. He didn’t have many spells, but one could turn him invisible. He had two slots for it—one was for sneaking in, the other was for sneaking out.

But, unable to help himself, he hissed one last time, up to the Sun in the window, “Go fuck yourself, pig-tupping bitch.”

A terrible insult to the pig, really.

It was… probably good she wasn’t listening, though, because even after that, he actually could turn invisible.

Nyxi:

8. Things you said you immediately regretted

“You’re really leaving?”

Nyxi steeled herself, and nodded. “I’m a tutor, Martha. And you’ve got no one left here to tutor, and certainly no one left to nanny.”

Her patron frowned, but finally nodded. She had a single curl of greying hair that had escaped her meticulous updo, and it bounced with the motion. Her hair had gone grey so fast. Nyxi still barely believed it, and it had already been years.

“I’ll miss you,” Juniper said. All of seventeen. Oh, how Nyxi wished it were just her and Martha. Juniper hadn’t yet left home, but it would be soon, and Nyxi had needed to rip the bandage off before that happened. She couldn’t say goodbye to the last of her babies. She couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Nyxi said, turning to the teenager. “I’ll miss the whole family. But you won’t need me anymore. It’s time for me to go.”

Juniper hesitated visibly. Then, “You’ll visit? Or, hells, nanny for us, when Derrick and Feena or someone have kids?”

Nyxi’s already soft heart melted. Damn this girl—her girl, who she had held since she was still newborn and bloody from Martha’s own body. She loved her children, all of them, but Juniper was hers, hers. “I’ll be back, baby,” she murmured. “I’ll visit. And I’ll— when you all have your children, they’ll be my children, too.”

The grateful grin on Juniper’s face was intentionally lost by Nyxi closing her eyes in immediate regret. As if leaving weren’t hard enough, as if her children growing and leaving weren’t enough. Another generation of Elevines—Juniper’s hair greying just as Martha’s—their babies Nyxi’s own. A family Nyxi would never keep. Two hundred more years of this? How many generations of humans was that? And Nyxi, slowly and slowly older, an old woman who never made a family of her own, because her family outgrew and outgrew her.

A terrible promise.

But Juniper had asked.

16. Things you said rather than apologizing

Eve was a teenager.

Sometimes, Nyxi had to repeat that fact to herself. Eve was a teenager. Really, Eve was a child. She could barely be counted as a teenager. She really only counted as a teenager when she was trying to be just that little bit older than a child.

Sometimes, telling herself that Eve was a child, or teenager, was Nyxi’s way of keeping herself level-headed around the girl. Eve could be cruel or snarky, could be biting and bitterly sarcastic, and, frankly, could be downright annoying.

Other times, Nyxi had to tell herself that Eve was a child because if she didn’t repeat it over and over to herself, she would scream it in the face of Eve’s so-called parents, along with some well-chosen expletives and maybe a comment or two about the sorts of terrible things that should befall various choice anatomies of theirs.

But they didn’t exactly seem to know that. They treated Eve alternatively like a paid servant or a prize-winning house pet, and not like the child she was. Nyxi couldn’t stand seeing the way the girl stood straighter through the doors of the house, like a soldier at attention. She couldn’t stand the way her parents’ eyes slid right past the both of them in the exact same way, as if their own child—their beautiful, snarky, intelligent, annoying, clever, funny, perfect little girl—never mind that she was a teenager now—was little more than a piece of expensive furniture. She hated that she was hired, not as a companion and caretaker, but as a minder, as a protector of an investment, as a second line of defense against those who would take advantage of a child on the roads they strongly encouraged Eve to travel.

Some days, Nyxi wanted to take Eve by the shoulders and shake her. Others, she wanted to hug her and never let her go. Some days—this was one—Nyxi wanted to tell Eve that she was sorry they didn’t love her like they loved the others, that she was sorry they thought of her as an asset, that she was sorry about the bare minimum Eve had gotten used to.

But, Eve was much more likely to sneer at her or yell or tell her parents rather than allow that apology, so instead, Nyxi looks around Eve’s room and picks something at random. “Did you make any of this?” she asked, choosing a few embroidery hoops and holding them up for Eve to have something to do instead of looking down at her hands.

“No, I just have random half-finished embroidery laying around,” Eve replied. Nyxi didn’t have to be looking to know she was rolling her eyes.

“Maybe that was the point of the finished product. Far be it from me to judge creativity. Don’t be rude.” Nyxi was smiling, though. Eve had looked up from her hands, stood up from her bed. Small victories. Small apologies.

Legacy:

12. Things you said that got interrupted

Dang it. She totally lost count on this row. “Okay, uh. One, knit, one, purl, two, knit, two, purl, three—”

Adore.

She didn’t look up, at first. “Just a second!”

Adore, I am not your mother.

All at once, like a cart crashing into another in a busy market, Adore recognized the voice. She was familiar with it from dreams, recurring ones with soft voices and comforting touch. She mostly only remembered snippets, but hearing this voice, now, it’s all like perfect clarity, like Adore having a conversation with someone yesterday at school instead of a dream she’d had a month ago.

“…Baba?” she tried. She looked around the room. Empty. But a familiar sensation—a hand settling gently on the top of her head.

I hope you don’t mind the imposition. I thought it better to meet you outside your dreams. The waking world, it feels more real to mortals like you.

Adore couldn’t argue there. It wasn’t scary—not like nightmares were scary—but it definitely felt different than the safety of “it was just a dream” like it’s been for everything since she first met Baba. The hand on her head was gentle, but she could still feel the claws on it when it started stroking over her hair. “Why?” she asked. It seemed a fair question.

We have been talking. I thought our talks could continue. You should be aware that anything you agree to, you agree to in something other than the world of your dreams. I thought I should prove myself real, and that my offers were real as well.

“Both eyes open,” Adore confirmed, repeating a phrase Baba had used.

Both eyes open. Adore got the sensation of approval. I am not interested in trickery. I see much more use in negotiation. As I say, you are my blood. I would like you to think well about what I offer. You are clever, and I would not begrudge you second thoughts or negotiation. What I offer, I offer honestly, and it will have an effect on your life and on your soul. So I offer it in your real world. Would you still like to speak about it?

Adore grinned, and the hand in her hair picked up the bulk of the strands, separating them into three equal parts to start braiding. “I would. Baba, you still say you are a devil?”

I do.

“Tell me about your deal.”

Very well.

#goinggrimdork #glade #nyxi #legacy #this ask is old enough that lexs tumblr was still goinggrimdork. wild #who did that.#trying to be SOOOOO lore heavy this proseboy. Been thinking about dnd a lot #and all of this has directors notes. by the way.#such as: I imagine baba was sooooo careful and slow with legacy because she didn’t expect the No from mira.#hence the dreams first-being truthful-talks before deal strat

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orcinus-ocean · 2 years

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Is anyone here a farmer or has anything to say about pigs? 😀

Because I want to make a case for the (relative) unintelligence of pigs.

I am sick to motherblubbing death of hearing "piGs aRE aS sMarT aS cHiMpS aNd eLePhAnTs!!1" Animal behavior and intelligence is an interest of mine and I just... can't see this.

From what I see, pigs are just an ordinary mammal. Of course they can recognize faces, solve problems, and remember. Almost any mammal can do that (except for morons like koalas and sloths).

One thing I've noticed with intelligent animals, like dolphins, whales, elephants, apes and parrots, is that they tend to have "intent" to their physical movements, a clear sense of humor, and an extreme curiosity to anything new. More scientific than that, they will have complex social behavior and need for mental challenges.

Pigs, on the other hand, move randomly and twitchy, are only interested in immediate physical needs, and seem completely uninterested in new things. "Food? Belly-scratch? If not, I'm out."

Maybe they can beat dogs in some cognitive tests, but chimps can beat humans in some cognitive tests... yet chimps have nowhere near the mind and awareness that we have.

Of course vegans love to shout from the rooftops about “PIGS ARE LIKE CHIMPANZEES” to get us to stop eating them, but as for farm animals, I think cows seem a lot more intelligent than pigs. They seem to have stronger lifelong bonds and more complex social lives than pigs, and most importantly of all, if something new turns up in their environment, they walk over there and STARE. They’re very curious.

I constantly see three animals repeated as "the SMURTEST" by people who don't really know anything about animals (and thus, countless online magazines who did all of five minutes of research before writing on a topic): Dolphins, octopuses, and pigs.

Dolphins, okay, yeah, maybe, but other toothed whales are often said to be much smarter than small dolphins anyway, and many of dolphins' greatest feats, can also be seen in wolves. Wolves are smart, but I've never even seen them on a top-10 list of "world's smartest animals".

Octopuses? They show great problem-solving skills, but that's also it. The max any octopus can live is about 5 years, which means they don't have time to learn stuff. As for super-intelligent vertebrates, the shortest-lived is crows, averaging 15-20 years.

I think what these three animals have in common is that they're all "animals we used to think of as really, really stupid, but then it turns out they weren't."

Dolphins were thought of as "just big fish", without any more thought or feeling than a tuna.

Octopuses were seen as "a slug with arms", just a dumb invertebrate.

And pigs were thought of as just "meat on legs", not needing any consideration. (And thus could "rightly" be given the treatment we would NEVER bestow on a dog, cat or horse.)

But that's as far as I would take it. Dolphins are clever, I think they have an edge above most mammals. While many "special" things about them (lifelong bonds, mourning for the dead, problem-solving, having their own "name" in their vocalizations) are also found in wolves, I see in dolphins the "intentional movements" (showing great awareness, it's hard to explain without comparing) and humor seen in very few other animals.

Octopuses are the smartest invertebrates, and probably smarter than some birds and mammals, but that's also it. They definitely can't compete with crows or elephants.

And pigs... of course they have emotional needs and appreciate mental enrichment, of course they can love and solve puzzles, they're probably also smarter/more aware than dogs in certain ways, but that's as far as I would take it.

A very important note is that intelligence is not a ladder, where you're automatically above or below the one closest to you. Rather, there are many different types of intelligence (it's even this way with people between individuals, let alone different species from vastly different taxa).

So, say that there are 10 categories of intelligence (just pulling a number out of the air), maybe one species fills 4 of those, and another species fills another 4, but they're not the same categories. They thus have completely different types of intelligence, and ways of understanding the world.

That's why we can never "rank" them, from more to less intelligence, in a neat list.

In my opinion, the most intelligent animals on Earth after humans are probably elephants and killer whales. Orangutans. Some parrots (kea and grey) and corvids (don't know about specific species) are also up there. And pigs don't even scratch the bottom of the list.

#intelligence #animal behavior #pigs #cows #dolphins #whales #elephants #apes #animal intelligence #animal rights

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cosmicdreamt · 1 year

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Excerpt from Chapter 9: Waning crescent - Temperance and Judgement

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11

It takes everything in Neff’s power to not burst out into laughter when she sees Orion stick his tongue out at Astraeus. This was absolutely not the time to laugh during such a serious situation, but when she thinks about how this child essentially just threw this grown man under the bus out of petty spite during a conversation involving morals…

Collect yourself, Nefeloma. Don’t give in to the temptation.

“You’ll never understand.”

Astraeus simply shakes his hand to try and numb the pain. He doesn’t even bother to try and patch it up. All he does is sit back into the chair with the wounded arm over the chair’s armrest while his other arm rubs the bridge of his nose. His voice is low and calm.

“You’ll never understand what it’s like to lose the very meaning of your being. When the whole reason for your existence is gone. Most Dreams fade away with their Dreamers, or if they’re lucky they pass on to another Dreamer who shares the same ideals. As far as I’m aware…I’m the only Dream so far who survived as residual energy. As you’re aware of in the general sense, multiple people can share the same dream - the same goes for Dreams of Dreamers. However…not all Dreamers are compatible in that sense. Sharing a dream doesn’t mean sharing the same means to get to it.”

“You sound tired.” Neff notes. “And you also sound like you realized more than you let on.

“Being a Dream is being part of the Dreamer. We are the parts of them that are hidden away, the parts of them they may not even realize they have. We are their strongest emotions whether people see it or not. Elyna…she found her comfort in fairy tales. Knowing that there was some sort of ‘happily ever after’ waiting for everyone in the end is what got her through those days. But…as you can probably tell through me…she repressed all of her negative emotions. Her anger, her sadness, her doubts…she thought if she just kept believing things would be okay that in the end that it would become true. She didn’t want to admit what she knew…and neither did I.”

He sighs, breaths shaky, and runs his hand down his face.

“I didn’t want to accept that she was gone. I didn’t want to admit that there was nothing that could be done. I thought that as long as I tried and did something, anything, that things could be different. Maybe one day she’d be reincarnated and I’d be right here to welcome her back home…and I could welcome her into a world that was more fitting for someone like her. Someone who deserved so much better than she got. I kept telling myself that I was doing the right thing…that this could and would work. A good part of me does still believe that…but the part of me that doubts it…that knows better…I’m just eating away at myself the longer I go on like this. I still want to make a better world but I’m not sure how.”

“You’re thinking too big.” Neff’s voice is gentle, like a mother comforting her child. “I never said there was no way to change the world. All I was saying was that there was no way to change it into what you want it to be. What you want it to be…makes you a villain, too. You do realize that, right?”

He looks almost…guilty. His gaze returns to the slowly healing wound on his hand, extending fingers and gripping them into a fist to get a read on the pain that remained. He inhales deeply, releasing the air slowly, and looks back at her.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore. I am desperate, right now, for any sense of stability. I was so certain of my ideals and my resolve up until this point and it feels so baffling that I was knocked down so easily.” He lets out an airy snort. “What are you doing to me, Nefeloma?”

#⋡☆《drabbles》—how is a raven like a writing desk

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ma-lark-ey · 1 year

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Lark Liveblogs Literature episode 3: Six of Crows duology

As we did with Harry Potter, Shadow & Bone Trilogy, and will be doing with The Mortal Instruments when I get back around to them I am liveblogging my reactions to Six of Crows.

What I know prior:

- We’ve got a guy named Kaz, he’s got a cane. My younger sister tells me I’ll adore him so I trust her judgement.

- There’s also a guy named Jesper, who one of my mates stole the name from for a water genasi. He’s queer??

- we also have someone named Wylen. My sister loves him a lot and tells me I will also love him though I am sceptical.

1.) Six of Crows (5/4/23— 10/4/23)

(8/10)

Right off the bat, I really love Inej! Her perspective is really lovely and her affection (/p) for Kaz is very clear from the get-go. It’s so juicy to meet our main protagonist from the perspective of an admirer and NOT themself. I’m obsessed with that.

I’m very respectfully in love with Kaz and did not say I’d makeout with him in the groupchat in front of god and everyone. No, sir. I am the most normal about Kaz Brekker.

Moving on from my goof, I really love Kaz just as a character. Having a disabled protagonist, much less one that’s Top Dog and very clearly feared and respected by his peers is SO GOOD. And quite honestly I think he’s the first disabled protag I’ve seen that wasn’t like, pity porn or magically nullified (at least in books. Love you Toph of Avatar fame). So if anyone has good reccs of other disabled protag books, drop ‘em. I’d love to read more.

OH I LIED ACTUALLY I READ STORMRUNNER!! I just didn’t get a chance to finish that series entirely so sorry I forgot about that. Love him SO MUCH. he and Kaz are my besties.

Inej 💖💖💖

Thats all.

Also the Banter!!! I’m not even a hundred pages in but the banter in Six of Crows is SO much better than Shadow & Bone. Bardugo has really grown as an author between these two series and it shows. The characters feel much more solid in this. Whereas Shadow & Bone’s characters (minus like, Alina, Nikolai, and Mal) felt extremely 2D at times (in my opinion) and I can see layers to Jesper, Inej, and Kaz right off the bat.

MATTHIAS H E L L O TOXIC MAN OF THE WEEK. im going to eat him.

My sister is fighting for her LIFE defending Matthias but I. THIS MAN IS A CONVICTED SLAVE TRAFFICKER??? SHE SAID ITS NOT HIS FAULT. girl. Get help.

Forgot to update this. Kaz is SOOOOO downbad. He’s DOWNBAD. just kiss her idiot. IDIOT. Wylan is funny, I wanna flick him on the forehead and ruffle his hair. He’s so goofy.

I’m not fully convinced Jesper ISN’T in love with Kaz.

THIS FIREPOX FLASHBACK IS A SPECIAL KIND OF FUCKED UP !!! “Together, they drifted, Jodie’s distended body acting as a raft.” Kaz…..

PIECED TOGETHER WHY KAZ HAYES TOUCH IM LITERALLY GOING TO CRY

EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER!!! LOVE HEXAGON FR.

The Jylan Wesper whatever the fuck this shipname is development is literally such a tone change from Kaz I’m LAUGHING.

Kaz: This is how my brother died, audience.

Jesper, boutta catch himself a twink: cowabummer.

Nina. Nina you’re better than this. Nina how could you get the alarm sounded. NINA.

Okay debriefing after part five. I’m so. So. So.

Kaz and Inej better kiss. Jesper stop flirting you are about to die. Matthias I almost killed you alive. I wanted to burn you at the stake fr. Nina you’re a queen. You’re theiving. Kaz dont die so you can admit emotional vulnerability for the first time ever. Jesper so proud of you for overcoming tour cringe crush on Kaz. Hurry ip and makeout with Wylan this tension is PAINFUL.

THE ENDING THE ENDING THE ENDING SHSBSBSBSB THATS SO MUCH IM GOING TO EAT WYLAN I LOVE HIM. BOY OF ALL TIME. ILL MAKE OUT WITH YOU.

2.) Crooked Kingdom (13/4/23-17/4/23)

(9/10)

Listen. Okay. My Tumblr was glitched out for the first half of this book so I couldnt say anything but I can NOW.

All of this is WILD.

Kaz Brekker, you are stupid and dumb and I NEED you to be honest about your emotions for ONCE. i swear to GOD you pathetic little WORM.

Wylan’s mother what the HELL. what is HAPPENING. This is so fucked up I hope Jan Van Eck gets his life fucking destroyed by Kaz fuck him UP.

Kuwei i love and hate you so much you cheeky fuck that was so sly but also how fucking dare you do Jesper like that. Little shit. You’ve been too heavily influenced by these deceitful little canal rats.

Wylan babygirl I love you. I’ll kill you if you ACTUALLY spilled to your dad. Honestly thank god Kaz barely tells you anything. I love you. Rot in hell for this one.

STURMHOND 💓💓💓 NIKOLAI LANTSOV 💖💞🖤💚💞 I DIDNT EXPECT TO SEE YOU IM SO HAPPY YOURE HERE I MISSED YOU BESTIE MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH IM SUCH A NIKOLAI GIRLIE YOU GUYS.

Oh update on Matthias I’m neutral on him now. Sorry for my Matthias slander earlier. I do still have beef.

Everytime a plot twist happens in this book its like “YES. MICHAEL. what do you want now? More money? A check? My SOUL?”

Okay Wylan. Sorry I cussed you out so bad. You’re good. We’re friends again

MATTHIAS DIES????

Wild ride through and through. Obsessed with this. I would’ve liked to see more of Inej’s closure than we did— but I’m not mad at it. I think Pekka being the closing chapter was. I dont know. I have neutral feelings on the Pekka chapter.

I do think I like Crooked Kingdom more than Crows? I really liked it a lot !! And. I will be honest with myself and admit its because of the Sturmhond content. I know myself. I can admit when I am foaming at the mouth over my #1 bestie babe of all time Nikolai Lantsov.

That’s. All. I suppose?

Really did enjoy it !! If you have a fic where we see more of Inej and her family reuniting. Drop it. Or recs in general. I need more recs. I dont know the tag culture of this fandom yet <<3 scary <<3

Next series: All For the Game, Nora Sakavic.

Bonus:

Here’s my ranking of the Crows, btw. I love them all but some. Significantly more than others not sorry.

1. Wylan Hendricks

2. Inej Ghafa

3. Kaz Brekker

4. Jesper Fahey

5. Nina Zenik

6. Matthia Helvar

I dont know if this is a hot take or not. I just. <<3 Wylan and Inej <<3

#six of crows #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #lark liveblogs literature #lark says #the crooked kingdom

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leavemealonetomusic · 2 years

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There is something about the sound of the waves in my earphones that just calms me. It almost sounds like, driving away haha.

I realizes that... I am my own comfort zone. I am my own safe zone. I think that’s why I like being alone now. I like... not interacting with anyone, not having it start into a disagreement... a fight. I think it’s anxiety haha. I have anxiety with my girlfriend, my sister, my brother, my family... anyone really. I don’t feel, okay around them. I believe it is because I left my emotions untreated. I left my thoughts unchecked. I did not get the help I needed, and now I’ve ‘grown’ and I don’t know how to act around others. I can hold a perfectly ongoing conversation, but I have no desire to connect. And the people I actually do want to connect with, leave me wanting more, and not in a good way. I started to comfort myself when I realizes I am the reason why I’m like this. The feelings. All of it. I am out of control. To really the point where no one calms me down. I kinda cry to myself... and that calms me down. Calms me down... realizing that, it what it is. If I want it to change... welp. Who knows... who knows.

What’s really the problem.

Questions to ask about being alone

What do you do when you are alone? Are you creating, reflecting, being? Or are you zoning out, dissociating, wallowing?

Are you alone as you want to be, or as you feel you have to be?

Does being alone mean you have more to offer others when you go back to socialising, or that you feel even more anxious and awkward?

Are you only alone to practice destructive habits like self harm, drug taking, overeating, or alcohol abuse?

I like these questions. Honestly, before writing on Tumblr. I was going to just, play on my phone until the feeling went away. I thought about journaling and writing out what happened. I couldn’t. This is actual my fifth writing on Tumblr before posting lol. I didn’t know what I was posting... what I was writing. 1- I felt as if I was zoning out, wallowing maybe haha. Being? 2- I am alone as I want to be. .. And I feel I have to be. I feel that I can’t hide my emtions well. it’s clear that I’m upset. 3- No never, never more to offer others. 4- This one. It hits different. Cause I’m not doing any, well besides not eating haha. Does that count? Of course it does... mmm, I find it difficult to eat when I’m upset. Sometimes I think about not eating for days, but eh. I think I’m over... self harming my body. I think about punching and breaking but not so much, cutting haha. I see my old scars and I think... man I was stupid hahaha. ..but I’ve must been in so much pain to do that to myself. I think I won’t do it now... because I rather, die to be honest. Other than that haha, I like cutting food to cook. I’m a horrible cook haha. .. I think... I’m very sad inside. mmm, yeah.

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navalcriminalimagines · 2 years

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Unlucky - Chapter 3

I'm baaaackkkk!!! <3 I hope you're still loving this series!

NCIS x Criminal Minds crossover!!

Summary: You’re Emily Prentiss’s little sister, you work for NCIS and when your team got a case in Quantico, it’s time for her to meet your team and for you to meet hers…

Pairings: sister!Emily Prentiss x Reader, Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader, Aaron Hotchner x Reader (and maybe more…)

Words count: 2.4k

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Tags: @duckysmith3000 @sitkafay @thebaileybugle @katieslotherford @ilovemark1951

Once you got to your sister’s apartment, you rushed to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. You stayed under the hot water for longer than anticipated, but you needed to relax and regain control of your feelings and emotions. You joined Emily in the living room almost an hour later; she was on the couch, cuddling Sergio - who didn’t care that you were there - and watching some cooking show. “You know that there’s something called greetings? You should try sometimes, especially with your host.”

“I needed a shower, sue me.” You shot back, looking in the kitchen if there was something to eat.

“Someone’s in a bad mood - look in the fridge you idiot.”

You did and found a full plate of pasta. “Rossi’s recipe.” She told you.

You warmed up the food and joined Emily on the couch. You started to eat under her stare. “What?” You asked with a mouthful.

“What’s wrong? Is it about your case?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You lied.

“Y/N/N, not only I’m your sister, but I’m a profiler. Speak.” Sergio was purring on Emily’s lap, and she kissed the top of his head.

“Just leave me alone, will you?”

“It’s this job, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about? I love my job.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t have stayed three years if I didn’t. Where does this come from?” You were getting annoyed with this conversation.

“Nowhere. It’s just that I—nevermind.” Sighing, your sister stood up to get herself a drink.

“No, speak Prentiss.”

“Don’t Prentiss me, Prentiss.”

“What’s your problem with my job? It’s basically the same as yours!”

“Which is exactly the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Fine. You want to know? I don’t think you’re made to be a federal agent.”

“Excuse me?” Your appetite disappeared and you pushed your plate away. You couldn’t deny that Rossi’s pasta recipe was amazing, but your stomach was knotting on itself.

“This job is a lot. Investigating crimes for a living is tough. Thank god you’re not chasing serial killers like I am, but it doesn’t mean that it’s a cruise ship for you either.”

“Are you saying that I don’t have what it takes to be a fed? That I’m too—weak?”

“No, not too weak, Y/N. But I’m scared for you okay! I’m scared because I haven’t seen your sparkles in years. I’m scared that something will happen to you. And it’s been like this since you joined the Navy. You have no idea what it's like to know that your little sister is at war, in the most dangerous places in the world and not knowing if she’ll come back.” Emily finished her glass of wine in one swallow. She has been holding this for such a long time, and even though she knew you didn’t like hearing it, it was nice to let it out.

“I’m not a little fragile thing, Emily. I loved my time in the Navy and I love working for NCIS. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Considering how you walked in tonight and the look on your face, it’s hard to think that you’re happy yourself.”

“I’m not happy, okay? But it has nothing to do with my job.”

It took a moment for Emily to understand. “Please, tell me it’s not that Tony guy.”

“Ew, no! Never.” No offense to Tony, but just no. You could never be with someone like him, no matter how hot he was.

“Thank god.” She breathed out. “Who is it then? Do I need to shoot the guy?”

You chuckled softly. “No, it’s okay. I think me and him need to make things clear,”

“Because you’re not on the same page?”

“We were at first, but not anymore.”

“I see. Did you fall or did he?”

There was no way you’d answer this question. But this was your sister Emily in front of you. Not giving her an answer was an answer itself.

Grabbing your plate, you put it back in the fridge - you couldn’t throw this dish away. You tried to pet Sergio for a moment, but the cat ran back immediately to its owner. “Dick!” you growled.��

“Hey! Don’t insult your nephew.”

“Oh dear god,” You rolled your eyes but smiled. You grabbed your bag, kissed your sister good night and got to the bedroom.

You settled on the bed with your laptop and files lying in front of you, but you couldn’t really concentrate. It was only when you looked down that you realized you were wearing one of Gibbs’s Navy t-shirts. Still mad at his reaction back in the car, you stood up and took the shirt off in order to put another one.

“What in the world are those scars, Y/N?!?” you heard your sister exclaiming behind you. You quickly put the shirt back on and sat back on the bed.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Are you kidding me right now? You have several enormous scars on your fucking back!” Emily was screaming, probably waking up the entire neighborhood. “When? How? Why?! Fucking talk to me, Prentiss!”

“My body, none of your business.” You knew it was a stupid thing to say but it was all you could come up at this moment.

“None of my– are you fucking serious? Tell me what the hell happened to you!” Emily’s face was crimson. Not only was she pissed, but also worried and scared. You knew where it came from, you understood her, but you couldn’t talk about it. Your therapist had been the only person you talked to.

“Just leave me alone, Em. Please,” You didn’t want to beg, but what else could you do?

“No! I won’t, I can’t! Not after what I saw.”

Then there was only one solution left. You packed your stuff quickly and ran past Emily to leave. She obviously tried to stop you, but you fought back. “I’m not talking about my scars, Emily! Just deal with it!”

Seeing the tears in your eyes, Emily decided to let it go for that night. But there was no way she would let you go back to DC without knowing what happened to you.

Not knowing if you could go back to the BAU’s office in the middle of the night, you stayed in your car for a few hours. Your brain didn’t want to shut up, you were spiraling and thinking about so many things at the time. Gibbs, your scars, the case, your past. You weren’t happy and you knew it, but you didn’t know what to do to change that.

Around 6am, you decided to go to the office anyway. You’d figured out a way to get in, and it was easier than you expected since you ran into Hotch in the parking lot. “Someone’s an early bird,” he smiled at you. “Did you sleep well?”

“Did you?”

Hotch chuckled at that, because you had a point. You started to walk together towards the entrance, “Are there showers I can use in here?” you asked.

“Um, they are down at the gym, but you need an ID.” Hotch thought for a second. “Let me walk you there and use mine.”

You got into the elevator with him and he pressed the button for the gym floor. “Thank you Hotch.” You smiled. “Now that we’re heading to the gym, do you think I can train for a bit?”

“Yeah sure. Do you train a lot?”

“Whenever I can. I blame my time in the Navy,”

“I should probably train more, but sometimes it’s hard to motivate myself.”

“Do it with me this morning, then.”

It was only when you heard Hotch coughing that you understood the double meaning of your sentence. “Oh come on, Hotch.” you chuckled and tried to hide the redness forming on your cheeks.

“What? I just coughed.”

“Sure.”

You finally reached the gym, and asked him for the locker room. You quickly changed and joined Hotch next to the ring and punching balls. He was wearing some shorts and a dark tank top. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. Aaron Hotchner was a really fine looking man, even more when he wasn’t in his strict work suit.

“Do you know how to fight, Agent Hotchner?” you teased him.

“I do.”

You jumped on the ring, and sat on the second rope, inviting him in. He rolled his eyes and chuckled but got in anyway. “No gloves?” he asked.

As an answer, you rushed to him and brought him down in a matter of seconds. You stood tall on top of him, “No gloves.”

A few seconds later, it was your turn to get down on your back as Hotch returned the situation. You let out a small yelp from the surprise, and the FBI agent had a huge grin on his face. He had your hands pinned above your head, holding your wrists firmly. But it was easy for you to get out of this position; you gave him a gentle kick, before forcing on your hips. Hotch got on his back again and you were on top of him, holding his hands above his head. Neither of you said anything, just realizing the position you were in. Hotch was extremely handsome under you, his hair falling back, his muscled shoulders practically bare. “I’m gonna be late,” he said, as you were leaning down, slowly approaching your lips to his.

“You’re right,” you cleared your throat and freed him. He had stopped you before you made a mistake and that was for the best. Even though you and Gibbs weren’t clearly dating, you were apparently exclusive and you couldn’t do this to him. Plus, Hotch was your sister’s boss.

You stood up and helped him get back on his feet. The atmosphere was strange, and you felt uncomfortable. “Showers are over there,” he pointed, before leaving the ring. “Can I ask you something?” he turned around, looking up to you. You nodded, “What did you fight about with Emily?”

You sighed, leaning over the ropes. “She saw something she shouldn’t have.”

“Like what?” He pressed his hands on the edge of the ring.

“My scars,” you blurred out, not sure why. You didn’t want to talk about it, you never did. So why did you say it to Hotch? Just like Emily, he probably wouldn’t let it go.

“Scars? What scars?”

“Uh, nothing. Not important.”

“Was important enough to make your sister flip out.”

“Just drop it, Hotch. Please.” You sat down on the edge, the ropes separating you and Hotch. His hands were still firmly pressed on the mat, he didn’t move a finger when your legs got between his arms. “How are you?” you asked, forcing him to drop the subject. “Are you okay with–not having your ring?”

Of course he knew what you were doing and he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m fine. My finger feels lonely but it’s okay.”

“Who cares about your finger? Do you feel lonely?”

Hotch just stared at you, not saying a word. His silence was saying everything you needed to know.

“Once we wrap this case, I’m going out for drinks with your team.” you informed him, crawling under the bottom rope to get down the ring. “You should join!”

“Maybe I will, if we’re not required somewhere.” Right. You forgot about that. For all you knew, Hotch, your sister and their team could be gone by the end of the day. You kissed his cheek, thanking him for training - well, if that could be called training - and you were off to the showers.

When you got to the conference room your team was using, Gibbs and McGee were already there. You high five with your friend like every morning and give the smallest nod to your boss. He looked well rested, and he smiled at you like last night didn’t happen. But you were still pretty mad at him and his assumptions.

Tony and Ziva arrived shortly after and you all focused on your case, spending the entire morning trying to find a solid lead. You forced yourself to block Gibbs, telling yourself that he was just your boss, maybe your friend, but nothing more.

“Morning Prentiss! Where’s the other Prentiss?” Derek Morgan walked into the bullpen, coffee in hand.

“Wow, all you care about is meeting Emily’s young sister now? We do exist, remember?” Garcia teased her friend.

“How could I forget, babygirl?” He kissed her temple. “But I’m curious.”

“We haven’t seen her yet,” JJ joined the conversation. “Her team had been locked up in the conference room before we arrived,”

“Workaholics, like us.” Spencer said.

“What’s their case about?”

Emily told them what she knew about the NCIS case, before they all settled at their desk, doing the boring paperwork. But the entire morning was about the NCIS team being here and you. The BAU kept asking Emily all kinds of questions about you, how you were, why she never told them about you. She put a smile on her face, and answered her friends, but all she could think about was the scars she saw on your back.

When she could, she joined Garcia in the office, locking the door behind her. “Em?”

“Penelope Garcia, I need your talents.” She grabbed a chair and sat next to her friend, “Your talents to do things you are not supposed to.”

“What’s going on?”

“I need you to take a look in an NCIS file.”

Garcia sighed at her friend's request. “Can’t you ask your sister what their case is exactly?”

“I don’t give a shit about their case. I want you to access my sister’s file.”

“Her file? Why? Is the woman inside the conference room not your sister?” Garcia teased her friend.

“Garcia, I’d laugh but this is very important. Please?”

“Fine, is there something in particular you wanna see?”

“I wanna know exactly why she stopped being a Marine and decided to be a Federal Agent. So, look at something that happened about three years ago.”

Garcia made sure that her door was locked and dived in. Being the hacking genius she was, it didn’t take long for Garcia to find what Emily was looking for. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Emily asked, looking at the computer screen.

“I think it means your sister was–held hostage and tortured. The NCIS team were the ones that found her.”

Emily Prentiss felt like she was about to faint.

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