#Like as soon as she knows that's mentally taken a lot of pressure off of not doing it

[aw-bean-s]

.

[trashpandato]

Morning

Despite what people might assume, Lena Luthor is not a morning person. 

Yes, she is awake at 5:30 am most days and at the office before 7am. And yes, that usually means she operates on much less than the recommended eight hours of sleep. She has trained herself for years to function like this, to be productive and effective well before most people crawl out of their sheets in the mornings.

But that doesn’t mean she likes being awake this early.

Kara has learned long ago that Lena is mostly non-verbal before her first cup of coffee at home, that there is a window of time after that coffee when it’s best not to say anything to her because Lena has an uncanny ability to turn even the most mundane sentences into an all-out argument. Kara also knows that Lena spends her mornings in her head, going over the day ahead, rehearsing speeches she needs to give, running through plans for board meetings, mentally preparing for each and every item on her schedule that day. So it is not the best time to ask or tell Lena anything —there’s a good chance she won’t hear it or won’t remember later.

Weekends are a little different. There is less of a schedule, less pressure to be at the office at a specific time, but the general rules still apply: don’t talk to Lena before her first coffee, keep conversations light and shelve important information for later.

It’s a routine that Kara knows well, has known it for a number of years now. So she is a little taken aback when she gets out of bed one Saturday morning to find Lena in the kitchen, with a warm smile, holding out a coffee for Kara.

“Good morning, darling.”

“Morning,” Kara mumbles around a slight frown. “How long have you been up?’

“Not long,” Lena says, and Kara can hear some nervousness in her voice but she still seems a lot more chipper than normal.

Kara nods and accepts the coffee. 

“So, I was wondering, well, I have some thoughts for what we could do today, but I have a question for you first,” Lena starts, and her words are uncharacteristically rambly. 

Kara isn’t entirely sure what’s going on. “Okay?”

She watches Lena fiddle with her fingers and there’s an overall high-strung energy about her that is highly unusual for this time of day.

“Okay. So. Here’s the question.”

And Kara doesn’t hear the rest because her own heartbeat roars loudly in her ears when Lena drops down on one knee in front of her and holds out a bracelet and a ring. She knows Lena will tease her about it for the rest of her life, (“I had the best proposal speech and you didn’t hear a single word of it.”), but right in this moment, all she cares about is seeing the hope and love on Lena’s face and the way tears spring to her eyes as soon as Kara cuts her off and blurts out a loud “yes! Yes, of course, yes.”

Best morning ever.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 24

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Thursday, December 17th; 7:00 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I collapse face down on my bed as soon as I step into my room. All I can think about is being on vacation. It’s about to become reality. To be honest, I’m struggling to grasp that starting tomorrow, I’ll be home for two whole weeks. It feels strange, but it’s definitely going to do me good. These last few weeks have been intense, and I really need a break. I have a splitting headache from all the constant studying. It feels like a hammer pounding in my head without rest. I just got back from Bronze after studying for my last exam, which is tomorrow. I’m relieved to see the end in sight because it was turning into a real disaster. The pressure and anxiety of not succeeding took over, and I started working more than I should have. I felt like the study sessions at Bronze weren’t enough anymore. I became obsessed, to the point of breaking curfew multiple times to study late into the night. The lack of sleep started affecting my behavior. I became unintentionally aggressive, which caught the attention of my supervisor. She noticed the bags under my eyes and figured out what was going on. Let’s just say she gave me a good scolding. Her decision was final, no matter what I said. She took all my study materials out of my room to control my workload. She almost punished me, but she held back when she saw my state. Our relationship has taken another step forward. I think she’s changed since she asked me to call her by her first name outside of school. She’s more open than before. Sometimes, I even call her Lucy when our study sessions run late, and she doesn’t mind. It’s become much more pleasant to spend time with her. She’s reached the point where she can tell what I’m thinking or feeling just by observing me. It’s very unsettling to be read like that. When she realized my problem with studying, she immediately found the right words to reassure me. Ever since she took my things on Friday night, she’s been coming by my room every evening to make sure I get back into a good sleep routine. Still, I’m mentally exhausted. All these exams were too much, and I’m starting to miss my family. I haven’t seen them in a month, hence my eagerness for the holidays.

“Are you done with your revisions at Bronze?”

Alexia snaps me out of my drowsiness. I must have dozed off without realizing it because I didn’t even hear her come in. I groan when she flops down on my back without any consideration. She kisses my cheek before resting her head on mine. Without knowing it, Alexia has started to break down my boundaries around physical contact.

“I came to get you for dinner. You’re coming, right? The others are already there.”

“Yeah,” I mumble into my pillow. “I’m starving. But I’m coming back here afterward.”

“Don’t worry, I was planning on coming back here too.”

“Come on, get off me!” I say, wriggling. “I’m starving!”

I laugh as she teases me by pressing down on me even harder. She finally gets up, but not before giving my butt a playful slap.

“Hey!” I exclaim, feigning indignation.

“Oops,” she says with an innocent look.

I smile and roll my eyes. Without her, I would have probably sunk into a deep depression. I was so angry with Lucy that first night she took my stuff that I was mad at the whole world. Alexia was there that night, and since then, she hasn’t let a single evening pass without making me laugh. She helped me think about other things, and that’s how I came to understand Lucy’s actions. To succeed, I also needed to learn to let go and have some fun. And that’s what I’ve been doing with Alexia. We’ve relaxed a lot, and she even took the opportunity to share new stories from her childhood. I took the chance to tell her about my relationship with Mapi as well. I had promised her a while ago that I would talk about it, so I did. Alexia is someone I really appreciate. She’s strong, and she has such a contagious joy. With those thoughts in mind, we head to the cafeteria in good spirits.

“Have you heard from Mapi these last few days?”

“Not really. She’s also busy studying. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

I don’t press further as we enter the cafeteria. We grab our trays and join our friends who are already seated. I greet the people I haven’t seen yet today. Since our day in the snow, our group sometimes expands at meals with the addition of girls who joined the snowball fight the other day. That’s the case tonight with Ella and Alessia joining us. They’ve taken the usual spots where Ale and I sit, but we don’t mind and take the seats opposite them. Over time, I’ve learned that Alessia is actually Leah’s sister. I figured it wasn’t a coincidence that I get along so well with her. Looking back, I realize they have quite similar personalities. They’re both very calm and thoughtful. Alessia once confided that she thought I had a crush on her sister. I quickly reassured her that we’re just good friends and that it would never go beyond that. I focus on the conversation going around the table. It’s about our upcoming vacation. Everyone is really excited. I get it; I feel the same way. I’m starting to get impatient for tomorrow. I can finally breathe and see my loved ones again.

“Do you already have plans for New Year’s, Ona?” Alba asks me.

“Not really. I guess I’ll spend it with Mapi, but we haven’t talked about it yet.”

“See, I told you she’d already have something planned,” his sister comments.

“Well, technically, nothing’s set yet. Why?”

They exchange a knowing look before Leah decides to speak up.

“To be honest, we usually spend it together here in Manchester. We were hoping you’d join us if you didn’t have any plans.”

“Really? Where do you do it?”

“It’s at our place,” Alessia explains. “We live here, and our parents usually go celebrate New Year’s with their friends.”

“I see. Is this the first time you’ve done this?” I ask curiously.

“No, this will be the third year we’ve done it together,” Ale responds. “It’s the only holiday we can all spend together, so we make the most of it.”

I nod, understanding perfectly. This idea excites me a lot. It would be so cool to finally be able to spend an evening with them outside of school. It’s definitely better than spending a drunken night at Mapi’s friend’s place. Still, I don’t want to leave Mapi behind. We’ve barely spent any time together since I’ve been here. Besides, we’ve always celebrated New Year’s together ever since we met. I know she’s expecting us to spend this one together too. We don’t even need to talk about it to know that.

“I would love to come, but I can’t leave Mapi alone,” I share.

“Why don’t you bring her along?” Alba suggests.

“That’s true, it’s a good idea,” Ale adds. “I really want to meet her after everything you’ve told me about her. Do you think she’d agree?”

“I see why you suddenly asked if I’d heard from her,” I say with an amused smile.

“Yes, well,” she rolls her eyes with a knowing smile. “I wanted to know if you’d already talked about it. Seriously, would it be possible? It’s a bit of a crazy plan, but doable, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be complicated. She has a girlfriend, and I doubt she’d want to celebrate without her,” I grimace. “I’ll ask her and see what she says. Anyway, I want to come, but not without her.”

“She seems important to you,” Lotte comments.

“Well… yeah. She’s my best friend, you know. She’ll always come first.”

“See, I told you she’d say yes,” Patri laughs. “It’ll be awesome if you come. You’re part of the group now.”

I smile sincerely at her. It’s true that I’ve really integrated into their group by now. They’ve been very welcoming from the start, unlike me, who only did things my way. Now, it’s very different. A real friendship has formed between them and me. I was about to respond when someone taps me on the head with an object that echoes above me. I instinctively duck my head to avoid the attack, even though it doesn’t really help. When I try to turn around to see who it is, two large hands on my shoulders stop me.

“What has Mapi done now?”

I relax and lean back against Lucy, recognizing her voice. I expected to see her tonight before curfew.

“Nothing,” I giggle. “We were talking about New Year’s.”

“Oh. I thought you’d heard from her.”

“Briefly this morning, to talk about tomorrow. By the way, she sends her regards,” I say, lifting my head to finally see her.

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah. Did you want something specific?”

“I wanted to return the pen you left on my desk. It would be a shame to take your last exams without it, right?”

I smile as I take it back when she dangles it in front of my nose. What would I do without her? Probably not much. I can’t say it’s my lucky pen because I don’t believe in that sort of thing. However, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to change their habits once I’ve found something that works for me. That’s exactly how it is with this pen. I would have been frustrated to have to use another one for my last exam.

“Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to. Are you also returning my notes?”

“You need to stop taking advantage of my kindness. I’ll give them back tomorrow.”

“What kindness?” I laugh. “I’m old enough to manage my own sleep schedule.”

“No, you’re not. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken your notes.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. Well, I can’t complain too much. It’s true that she’s become nicer than before, even though she still treats me like a kid in some ways. It’s really frustrating, but I guess I’m partly to blame. She knows why she’s keeping my stuff. I would have been tempted to study tonight otherwise.

“Fine, I’ve recovered,” I protest.

“Ona,” she scolds. “I should make you run laps to tire you out tonight.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be fine,” I grimace.

“That’s what I thought. Everything will be fine, anyway. You’re ready.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” she confirms. “Alright, I’ll come by your room before curfew.”

“Wait,” I quickly try to stop her.

“What? Hurry up, Engen is waiting for me.”

I turn to see that, indeed, she’s waiting at their table. I’m not used to sitting with my back to them. I like being able to see Lucy when we’re eating at the same time.

“Ona?” she calls out.

“Sorry… Um… Actually, I have a headache. I was wondering if you could bring me an aspirin or something?”

“Is it just a headache?” she frowns.

I smile when she instinctively places her hand on my forehead. Since my withdrawal and the flu, she worries about every little thing I might have. Well, it’s true that I’m still a bit fragile, but not to that extent.

“I just have a migraine. It’s probably from the studying.”

“And you dare ask me to give back your notes?”

“Oh, come on,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. “Can you bring me something then?”

“I’m not a walking pharmacy, but I’ll bring you something later.”

“Cool, thanks! And enjoy your meal.”

"Thanks, same to you."

She ruffles my hair before heading back to her table. I place my pen on the tray and watch it for a moment. My smile widens at the thought that she really knows me well.

"Well, you've got quite the bond," Patri chuckles.

"Hmm, if you say so," I shrug.

"It's true," Ella insists. "You're the only student she treats like that."

"We also spend a lot of time together," I shrug again.

"That's for sure," Ale laughs. "You're with her more often than with me!"

"Yeah, anyway, can we get back to the New Year's topic? If you want, we can call Mapi together later," I suggest.

"Oh yeah! That's a great idea, that way we can ask her directly!"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Even from a distance, my best friend manages to be loved. I'll keep to myself the fact that Mapi was jealous of Ale at first. She joked about it, but I know she was genuinely jealous. Still, I have no doubt they would get along. They're both so wild when they want to be, and it could cause some real chaos.

"By the way, how does Bronze know her?" Ale arches an eyebrow.

I freeze at her question. Damn, I hadn’t thought about that. You can’t really say they know each other. They’ve only talked once when I had a rough night. Otherwise, it often happens that Bronze comes to my room when I’m on the phone with her on the weekends. So, they greet each other, and sometimes they even tease each other (usually about me).

"Oh, well, you know, we often talk on the weekends, so Bronze hears me talking to her," I shrug.

"Hmm, hmm," she replies skeptically. "I must be missing out on some interesting stuff on the weekends."

"Not really," I laugh nervously.

Great, Ona. Very convincing. If she knew I often sneak out of school thanks to Bronze, I have no doubt she’d have something to say about it.

"Well, I’m done. I’m going back to the dorm. I can’t stand my headache anymore."

"Yep, I’ll join you soon."

I nod and wish everyone else a good evening before leaving the table. I clear my tray and then head out to face the cold. I hesitate for a moment to take the emergency exit to get there faster, but Bronze would kill me if she found out. So, I force myself to take the main entrance. I regret this choice when I hear the noise coming from the common room. Someone forgot to close the door. It makes me realize how disrespectful students can be. They struggle to understand they’re not alone. I escape the noise by going upstairs to avoid worsening my migraine. When I get to the room, I decide to shower immediately so Ale will have space when she returns. In the meantime, she comes back to tell me that she changed her mind under the influence of the others and is heading back down to the common room for a bit. At least I’ll have some time alone. Or so I thought until I come face to face with Bronze as I’m leaving the bathroom.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry, I was looking for you," she smiles softly.

"No problem..."

"Here, for your migraine."

"Oh, thanks... Wait, let me find a sweater first, I’m cold."

"You’re not getting sick again, are you? You’re trembling like a leaf."

"I don’t think so. I’m just cold," I say as I grab a sweater from the closet.

The shower had warmed me up, but the room is cold compared to the sauna I created in the bathroom. Let’s just say that shorts and a T-shirt aren’t enough in these circumstances.

"Your lack of sleep probably isn’t helping."

"Stop blaming everything on that. Don’t forget I’ve only lived in hot countries."

"Hmm..." she says skeptically.

"Anyway, I’m on vacation starting tomorrow at eleven. I’ll have two long weeks to sleep."

"That’s true."

I first put down my phone and computer before going over to her to take the pillbox and a small bottle of water she thoughtfully brought me. I quickly swallow a pill with a few sips of water.

"Can I keep them?"

"Only the bottle. You know the rules."

She smiles at me sympathetically. It’s clear that it’s not safe to leave a pillbox with a former addict.

"It’s not like I’m going to get high."

"You could be capable of it. Now, give me the box."

I don’t argue and hand it back to her before slipping under my blanket. Without asking her opinion, I turn on my computer. I squint, noticing that Lucy doesn’t seem to want to leave.

"Are you planning to stay here for a while?"

"No."

She grabs my desk chair and places it between the two beds before sitting down. I look at her skeptically.

"I’d like to talk about tomorrow."

I frown, not understanding where she’s going with this. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.

"For two things. First, how do you feel about the exam?"

I sigh and shake my head. She’s not going to let this go. I had a moment of panic, and now she’s back on my case.

"I’m not trying to bother you. I can tell you’re stressed, which is why I’m asking."

"Who wouldn’t be stressed in my position? I’m a little bit, I admit. But it’s not because of the exam. Well, the dice are cast since it’s the last one... I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ve passed or not."

She nods understandingly. I bite my lip and look down. I feel ridiculous for being so worried over something so minor.

"Hey. No matter the result, you can’t say you didn’t give it your best shot. Okay?" she asks, placing her hand on my leg to get my attention.

"A little bit, maybe. I should have worked harder from the start."

"You were lost back then, and now you have regrets. That’s completely normal, but don’t forget that since then, you’ve pulled yourself together. You’ve made the necessary effort to catch up, so let me tell you... You have nothing to blame yourself for, understand?"

I sigh, nodding slowly. She always has the right words, it’s incredible.

"I get it... I’ll try not to torture myself over it anymore. What’s the second thing?"

"Your return home."

"Lucy," I groan. "I’ll behave, I promise."

"I’m just asking you to be reasonable, OK? Don’t feel obligated to go to parties if you don’t want to, and if there’s any issue—"

"I’ll come talk to you, I promise," I finish for her.

"Good," she sighs. "It’s time for you to sleep."

"No, please. I’d like to call Mapi first. I have something to sort out."

"Alright," she concedes. "You have half an hour. Then you turn everything off."

"OK."

"And in case you’re wondering, I plan to stay here to make sure of it."

"You can’t be serious," I groan. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"You’ll have to deal with it. I want to make sure you sleep on time tonight."

"Who says I won’t have a private conversation with Mapi?"

"Is that the case?"

"Not particularly... The others suggested spending New Year’s here with Mapi. I wanted to ask her about it. It’s a good idea, right?"

"Hmm," she says unconvincingly.

"At least you won’t be far if there’s a problem," I tease.

"I’ll probably have something better to do than look after you during that evening, you know."

"True... I thought you’d be happy about it," I say, opening the FaceTime app. "I’m at least reassured that you won’t be far."

"If you’re reassured, it means you still don’t trust yourself. Anyway, it’s definitely better than a party full of strangers."

"It’s not the best, that’s for sure. I’ve never really liked those kinds of places anyway," I shrug.

"Then why do you go? To put on a show?" she laughs.

"I don’t know. To have fun, I guess. Isn’t that what everyone does when they go to those kinds of places?"

"I guess. I don’t know. I’ve always found those parties stupid."

"Is it just me, or does this topic seem to annoy you?"

"It doesn’t."

I lift my head from my screen to smile at her. It does annoy her for some reason. I know she won’t elaborate, but she could at least be honest.

"You don’t want me going to those kinds of parties, do you?"

"I’d prefer you didn’t, indeed," she admits.

"Alright, you win," I roll my eyes. "If I stay in Barcelona for New Year’s, it’ll be my last party. Is that okay?"

"Wasn’t that already the plan? You promised me you wouldn’t go to any more parties after what happened last time."

Thinking about it, I realize she’s right. I’m not supposed to go to any more parties. I bite my lip, wondering how she managed to get her way. She has such an influence on me that it’s becoming scary. However, with her recent reaction, I can’t tell if it’s because she wants what’s best for me or because she has particular issues with parties. Maybe it’s both.

"I still get New Year’s, though... right?"

She rolls her eyes with a small smile.

"I told you to just be reasonable. Isn’t that clear enough?"

"Thanks..." I exhale. "You scared me for a moment."

"Use these holidays to clear your head and stop thinking about school."

"That’ll be hard. I’ll miss your orders."

"Be glad to be away from my demands. I must be annoying to you," she says, making me laugh. "What’s so funny?" she frowns.

- "I don’t find you annoying. You're just straightforward, and I was serious when I said I'm going to miss you. No one cares about me like you do. By the way, I hope I can write to you during the holidays..."

- "We'll see if I reply," she teases me.

A ringtone interrupts our conversation. I frown as I see an incoming call from my best friend. I was about to call her, but it's surprising that she's calling since we weren’t supposed to talk tonight.

- "Excuse me. I have to take this."

- "Go ahead, you’ve got fifteen minutes left," she reminds me.

I nod, pressing the green button and bringing the phone to my ear. With my other hand, I close my laptop, which is now useless.

- "Hey Maps, I was just about to call you."

- "Hey bonita," she replies in a small voice.

- "Oh! What’s wrong?"

- "Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

- "Don’t lie to me. I know you."

- "There’s nothing wrong."

- "Okay... if you say so..."

I squint as I see Lucy smiling. I nod to silently ask her what’s going on. In response, she just smiles wider.

- "What?" I say at the same time Mapi sighs.

- "Huh?"

- "Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you," I say, which makes Lucy laugh.

- "Are you with someone?"

- "Yeah... with Bronze. She’s playing babysitter."

- "Oh, I’ll let you go then."

- "No!" I quickly respond. "It’s not like she can hear you. Tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s up. I can feel it."

There’s a moment of hesitation where she stays silent. She takes a long breath. This is starting to worry me. Lucy seems to understand the situation from the way she looks at me. I suddenly sit up straight when Mapi bursts into uncontrollable sobs. If she’s crying, then something is really wrong. The only other time I’ve seen her cry was when I told her it was over between us.

- "Hey, Maps... What’s going on?" I say softly, not wanting to upset her.

- "Ana," she says. "She dumped me, Ona... Ana dumped me," she repeats desperately.

I part my lips in surprise. I didn’t see that coming... I regret not being by her side right now. Her sobs get louder, and there’s nothing I can do to calm her down. I can’t believe they’re no longer together. I really thought their relationship would last based on how she talked about her. I never really knew how she felt after I left, but hearing her now, I don’t even want to know. I run my hand over my face, trying to keep my composure.

- "Maps, I- It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll be in Barcelona around eleven PM. You can come with Hector, or you can wait for me at home, okay?"

- "I really thought she was the one, Ona. I finally managed to have a serious relationship again, and she dumped me like trash. Damn it!"

I close my eyes, hearing the loud noise she’s making on the other end. I don’t know what she’s doing, but it doesn’t sound good.

- "Mapi..."

- "What’s going on?" Lucy asks me.

I sigh, covering the phone’s microphone to explain the situation to her. Lucy asks for my phone. I hesitate for a moment before giving it to her.

- "Hey Mapi, it’s Bronze."

I hate myself for doing this, but Lucy is definitely better at handling these situations than I am. I tend to be clumsy with my words and never know what to say. Unlike me, Lucy knows how to handle things. She does it with me, and now she’s doing it with Mapi. She’s calming her anger and reassuring her. It feels like I’m listening to her talk to me when I need her support. Lucy’s words seem to have the desired effect because I can’t hear Mapi yelling from where I’m sitting anymore. She continues talking to her before handing the phone back to me.

- "She wants to talk to you."

I quickly take the phone where I can already hear my best friend calling me.

- "Yeah, it’s me," I reply.

It seems like her crisis has passed. She’s still sniffling a bit, but she’s not crying anymore.

- "I understand why you think she’s so great."

- "I never used those words," I chuckle lightly to ease the situation. "But you’re right."

- "You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious when you talk about her."

- "Let’s not talk about that now. Are you going to be okay?"

- "Hmm," she sighs. "I have to be. I have one of my most important exams tomorrow. I just needed to hear your voice... I’ll come to the airport tomorrow. I want to see you as soon as possible."

- "Alright. I’ll tell Hector to pick you up then."

I see Lucy tapping her watch. She gave me thirty minutes, and I guess they’ve passed.

- "Are you going to stay over?"

- "Of course, if you don’t mind. I think I’ll need your arms, if it’s not too much to ask."

- "Of course not. Go rest now. Bronze wants me to hang up."

- "Bossy, huh?" she giggles slightly, which reassures me about her state. "I thought curfew was at ten PM? It’s only quarter past nine where you are, right?"

- "It’s complicated. I’ll explain when I get back."

- "Don’t tell me you’re having insomnia again?" she questions. "I thought it was over since you hadn’t mentioned it."

- "I was, but not for the reasons you think."

- "Hmm..." she replies skeptically.

Now’s not the time to talk about my problems, especially not in front of Lucy. For now, she’s the one who needs reassurance. I don’t want her to start feeling sorry for herself like I did.

- "I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Maps."

- "Goodnight, Onita. Thank you, and thank your supervisor too."

- "I was planning to. Kiss."

I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand. As for my laptop, I put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and put it in the cupboard.

- "Thanks... I didn’t know how to handle that."

- "It’s no big deal."

I don’t have time to reply as the door opens, revealing Alexia. She’s no longer surprised by Lucy’s regular presence.

- "I’m back," she says before grabbing pajamas from her closet. "Are we calling Mapi again?"

- "I just talked to her on the phone. I didn’t have time to ask her about New Year’s."

- "You can chat tomorrow morning. It’s time to sleep now, Ona," Lucy announces to me.

- "I’ll go take my shower then," Ale says. "Goodnight."

- "Goodnight," I reply.

I lie down in bed, looking at Lucy. I think I’m hallucinating when she takes my laptop and phone.

- "Don’t tell me you’re taking those with you?"

- "Yes. I should have thought of this earlier. Have you used them this week?"

- "Of course not," I groan. "You’ve checked on me every day!"

- "Hmm. Come on, I was serious. It’s time to sleep."

- "Are you planning to stay?" I’m surprised.

- "Yes. I want to make sure you sleep."

- "That’s ridiculous," I mutter. "You’re getting too serious about this."

- "Go to sleep."

I roll my eyes and eventually turn my back to her, wrapping myself in the blanket. The good thing is that my headache has finally gone. The bad thing is that Lucy’s presence is unsettling, even when I close my eyes. Sleeping is impossible. Especially with all the noise I hear when Alexia comes back into the room. She seems to be trying not to make any noise, but it’s not enough. I want to complain, but Lucy beats me to it by asking Ale to go to bed. A few minutes later, the light goes out, plunging us all into darkness. I roll over to the other side now that it’s dark and I can’t see Lucy watching me. I know she’s still there; otherwise, I would have heard the sound of the chair. Time passes, and I can make out Alexia’s steady breathing. My mind is too agitated, and it’s starting to annoy me. I sigh heavily, admitting defeat.

- "I can’t sleep," I mutter, rubbing my eye.

- "And then you wonder why I’m still here," she jokes.

- "It’s not funny," I sigh, sitting up.

- "Stay in bed. Curfew has passed."

- "Am I allowed to go to the bathroom?"

She sighs but lets me go. I make sure not to take too long so she doesn’t get impatient. I wash my hands before returning to bed under her watchful eyes.

- "What are you going to do during your vacation?" I murmur.

- "Talking won’t help you fall asleep," she says, annoyed.

- "It might help."

- "No, it just distracts you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when I take you home tomorrow."

- "You’re taking me to the airport?"

- "Yes, Ona."

- "Cool. I prefer it when it’s you."

- "Don’t get any ideas. It’s just because I’m leaving at the same time as you."

- "Hmm."

I smile even though she can’t see it. Even if it’s the truth, I don’t care about the reasons. I just focus on the fact that she’s the one taking me home, even though she doesn’t have to. I understand now why she wanted to handle my departure reservations. I thought it was to take the burden off me.

- "Thanks," I say.

- "Okay, that’s enough. You’re starting to annoy me by being so awake. If you talk again, I’m really going to make you run laps. Am I clear!?"

- "Oh, come on, calm down," I grumble. "I’ll sleep."

- "I hope so. Goodnight."

- "Goodnight..."

I smile as I finally turn my back to her. I try now to clear my head and pretend she’s not there. This last solution seems to work this time because I finally feel myself drifting off.

[readychilledwine]

Pressure

A/n: this was heavily inspired by this post

Amelia is one of my favorite ocs I have trapped in the writing world I keep under lock and key. She is one of my Archeron sister characters that I decided was the perfect firey match to Eris. In this little snippet of their lives together, she's just finally had it. Maybe someday, I'll be brave enough to bring their full story into light.

Warnings - mentions of smut, a lot of vulgar language, implied mental breakdown, alcohol use as a coping mechanism, Beron Vanserra is mentioned, and a lack of editing.

Amelia was just done.

Between the constant pressure of being the dutiful wife of the future High Lord of Autumn, the sister of the High Lady of Night, and Beron's new favorite toy to fuck with, she had finally had it.

Her hair was a tangled mess on top of her head. She had attempted to hide it in a messy bun, but it was no use. The blonde mess of curls had officially taken on a mind of its own.

She knew her makeup was smudged, but she could not find the energy to care. Exhaustion had won today. Hence, the two steaming cups of coffee she was double fisting like Cassian at Rita's. Black mascara and eyeliner caused her already tired eyes to look even worse.

She had not even bothered to change since her 4pm breakdown in the dog kennels. She was covered in fur and the lingering scent of hounds. She knew she should bathe, make herself presentable before Eris got to their chambers, but she just genuinely did not care anymore.

She had lost herself in this game of High Lord manipulation and mental chess. It was a game she had never asked to play, and one she was sure would be the death of her if Eris did not off his father soon.

She had loved to read before this all. But lately, she never had time, and when she did, the book quickly found its way into her "rainy day reattempt later" pile. She was trying to distract herself with another attempt at a book tonight, though.

She thought maybe a different genre would help. She had taken Azriel's recommendation in a psychological horror novel, and just found herself laughing at the poor build up, the half effort descriptions, and the ever growing plot holes.

"I fucking quit," she tossed her book to the side, sipping on the warm bitter liquid as she stared into the fire.

"My spark," the deep honeyed voice of her mate reached her ears. "Amelia, baby, what's wrong?"

"Fuck you and fuck this place." Eris chuckled at her response before sitting on the couch near her spot on the floor. "Fuck the games. The court systems. The High Lords. Fuck the fae. Fuck being fae. Fuck all of you."

She took another deep sip of her coffee nose scrunched at the bitter taste. Eris could feel her through the bond. He could feel her love for him, but it was weighed down heavily by her anger, frustration, and exhaustion.

"Tell me more," Eris leaned his elbows onto his knees. He was allowing his wife, his mate, this one moment of anger. He knew this dance all too well, and he could tell she needed to have this moment.

"I really fucking hate that prick your dad has in charge of the libraries. He's a condescending piece of pond scum, and I will dance near his pyre one of these days," Eris felt his eyes go wide, covering his mouth to hide the laughter threatening to escape.

Amelia continued after sipping her coffee. "I hate your father, too, actually." She paused, switching to sip the coffee she had secretly added Eris's whiskey into. "Do you know what that fucker said to me today?"

Eris smirked. "Tell me what he said, my love."

"That fucker said to me I was failing at my duties as a wife since we do not have a child yet. He told me to fuck you more and learn my place."

Eris was frozen as he watched her drink the coffee he could smell liquor radiating from again. "And what did you say?"

"I told him you've never once complained about how I perform my wifely duties when your cock is in my mouth. That shut him up real fuckin fast. Fucking asshole."

Eris took in Amelia's appearance for the first time. Her heavy eyelids. Her chapped lips. Her messy hair and disheveled clothing. She had not bathed today, and he knew she had not slept last night. He took in the look of despair etching deeper into her face as she drank. The stack of books tossed onto the ground without care.

"I think we need a vacation, my love." Eris's voice was soft as he moved to sit on the ground with his mate. "Maybe I should send a message to Kal. We could go to Winter for a little-"

"Fuck. The. High. Lords. Fuck the games. Fuck the song and dance. If we're going to be putting on a show, it may as well be in this fucking hellhole."

Eris paused. Any trip to another court would involve Amelia and him playing the same roles they were in daily. The ones she clearly had enough of. There were few places he would be able to take her to get away from all of this, and he knew of a perfect one.

"How about the cabin?"

He watched as her breath hitched. Her eyes peeked over to him before refocusing on the hearth. They had not been to the cabin since their mating ceremony. It had been two months of them alone. Two months of love, sex, and silence.

"No duties. No High Lords. No masks. Just you, me, and the hounds." He kissed below her ear. "Just us. All alone. Up in the Autumn mountains. Where you can scream as loud as you like. Curse as loudly as you like." Another kiss on her jaw line and then her neck.

"Just us?"

He nodded as he caged her between him and the couch. Straddling her thighs with his knees so she could not escape.

"Just us, our hounds, and that wicked mouth of yours."

"Take me," she whispered to Eris, her blue eyes sparkling for the first time tonight. "Take me please."

"I intend to," Eris nipped her nose, grabbing her small hand in his as she went to smack his chest. "If you go take a bath."

Amelia shut her eyes before chuckling. "Fuck you."

Eris smiled gently down at her. "And you'll get to. After your bath. Come my spark, we will bathe together and plan our trip."

[oc-tournaments]

ROUND ONE - MATCH 11

HARI FORLORN vs SALVANAN

HARI FORLORN: @aimless-aimz

SALVANAN: @the-demoness-next-door

VOTE BASED ON THE INFORMATION BELOW CUT!!

Propaganda Content Warnings: Generational trauma, physical abuse, child death for HARI. Abuse, manipulation, suicidal thoughts for SALVANAN.

HARI FORLORN:

PROPAGANDA: GENERATIONAL TRAUMAAA!!! all he was to his father was just 'a project', as his father had his OWN issues; and his mom was strict. ....abusively strict, so he'd "learn"; this included inflicted oil burns, whippings, and verbal barrages.

and then he died at 6 years old in a snowstorm running away from his mother who snapped and tried to strangle than beat him to death! lol. he was so pissed, that is 6 year old soul became a vengeful spirit, and just a month later when he turned 7 he went back to his grave and took his body back!

he desperately clings to his humanity, but being dead kinda screwed him up! he's always cold, no matter what, and is riddled with his childhood scars + frostbite from his death (which he is very insecure about both). He was never loved until he was picked up and Taken by friendos, and i mean now he has a girlfriend which is cool (she also is fucked up)!!

he has awful anxiety disorders and PTSD. soggy cat of a boy. And i have a future event for him planned! he goes to his father's hometown and sees him again. he will have a mental breakdown.

he actually is a rotomblr blog i have (hes a pkmn oc!! his best friend is a lampent named maru who's a sweetheart!!) and his user is " haunting-hari " so check that out if you wanna loll/nf

THEME SONG:

SALVANAN:

PROPAGANDA: this poor man. buckle in, you have a LONG one coming. he's very old, he's the god of plants + the earth and he's great i love him but man i have not been nice to him. so. way early in his life, he had a very sweet boyfriend named azyll along w lots of mutual friends. except oops, sal developed chronic anxiety and depression and decided that he did not think he would be good for azyll and broke it off w him. it was amicable but it still sucks. fast forward a bit, one of the friends in their circle, jekath, is being manipulated and hurt for no reason and sal knows but for magic reasons he's incapable of telling anyone, just has to watch. and then he eventually has to watch jekath finally snap under the pressure and betray them all and go evil. no bueno. so he spends a long time feeling terrible and eventually he plans to just. yknow. off himself. but oh surprise this little boy named safari shows up in his garden! and he's like well shit guess im a dad now. and he loves this little boy very much.

it's good times! except when he's a teenager two of the little boy's biological brothers drop him off a cliff and nearly kill him, which is, yknow, terrifying. that's his son! his son was almost murdered! no! bueno! anyway, azyll's mortal so eventually he dies of old age, now sal's even sadder. least he's still got his other friends and safari but Man. anyway fast forward again, whole world is at war. and his two best friends, arona and morana, both die in it. but if that was not bad enough, arona was killed by jekath. you know, the old friend that was abused and eventually betrayed them all. so the friend he felt like he failed has now murdered one of his best friends. and his other best friend is ALSO dead. things are just going Great. flash forward another little while and his goddaughter's husband, sibrum, goes evil against his will too.

he's known sibrum since he was a kid so now he's got ANOTHER person he felt responsible for gone evil against their will. then sibrum's daughter dies. are you seeing a pattern yet. anyway, sibrum soon kills jekath so now sal feels like he's double failed both of them and also even MORE of his original friends are dead now. so he is trying So Hard to relax! but then safari is turned into a terrible person against his will too! and because they were so so close for so so long they end up in a toxic dynamic instead of cutting each other off. sal finally figures out how to break the spell on safari and it's all Okay Now (they're both traumatized and it's definitely not okay). he gets to relax for only a brief time before his other child's son, volta, has a villain arc too. and what happens? you guessed it! sal tries to stop him and help him and he's not able to. and feels like he failed someone AGAIN. yeah this just happens over and over through the course of his life. he's so tired and sad man

THEME SONG:

[wifiwuxians]

Yi City group in Star War AU? 🤔

HOUH it's been a while since i've starred in a war. let me see if i can come up with anything remotely compelling ... the good thing about star wars is the setting is so huge i can just make some planet up and nobody could contradict me i feel like

always gotta start with XXC. he lives on a remote, tiny planet with tall, jagged mountains and floating rocks, training in the ways of the Force and connecting with all of the universe thanks to the stern (yet loving) hand of a legendary runaway Jedi master said to be so powerful that she can bend time to her will, rendering her immortal. XXC is not native to this small planet, of course. this master chose such a place due to its lack of people. he is a war orphan, rescued from the conflict and taken somewhere safe. he is not the first, and he may not be the last, but as of right now, he is her only pupil.

XXC loves his master. he wants to make her proud and be beside her forever. but the more he senses The Great Unknown Out There off their tiny rock, the more he wishes to explore, to learn. he wants to see others. he wants to help those caught in conflict as he once was. his master tells him he isn't ready, but she's been saying this for a while now. he knows she's making excuses to keep him here, but he doesn't want to defy her will. and yet, one fateful day... he senses the ship before he sees it. long before, causing him to watch the skies like a hawk from his perch. as soon as it breaks the atmosphere, he knows exactly where it'll land and prepares for his rescue mission armed with medicine and blankets!!!

the unconscious pilot within is immediately fascinating to XXC, who has not seen another person in the flesh beside his master in decades. he wants to grill him with questions, but has to treat him first! carefully tending to whatever wounds he can see on-site, he prepares to transport him, making a mental note to come back and pick the ship apart when he has a moment. maybe he and this mysterious stranger can fix it up and... oh, he gets ahead of himself.

the pilot has a lightsaber!! and dark robes with intricately woven patterns that can only be seen up close. he carries an arrowhead-shaped crest over his heart, looking as if it were carved of ice. XXC's master says she recognizes the symbol, but only once she's caught staring at it and is pressured to speak of it. as XXC treats the pilot's wounds, she tells him the man belongs to a sect-like subgroup of Jedi known as the Knights of the Frost Line. she explains that they are known to travel the galaxy to help the needy (said with some suspicion and disdain). when XXC asks why she sounds displeased, she tells him that even those with the best intentions can be bought for the right price.

after a few days of treatment, the man awakens in a panic, but is quickly soothed by XXC. in the coming week, they learn a lot about each other; the man's name is Song Lan, and he was knocked out of the sky and sent flying through space when he attempted to bring aid to a city on a nearby planet, whose resources are being hogged by four tyrannical families. he seems antsy about possibly being followed here, but XXC reassures him that nobody else has made it to this small planet. SL reveals that the one who shot him down is a runaway Sith-trained mercenary hired by one of the four families to do their bidding. he is ruthless and relentless, known to chase his targets down and annihilate them and those they're close with, going so far as to burn down the remnants of their existence. XXC, horrified, vows to keep such a man away from SL and his home.

while trying to get back on his feet, SL trains with XXC, finding them to be a near perfect match. just like XXC is fascinated with him and his tales of the galaxy, he is fascinated with XXC and his deeper connection to the Force. when SL speaks of leaving and returning to his mission, he does so with reluctance. XXC begs him to take him with, to let him aid him in his quests and learn more about the galaxy beside him. SL can't bring himself to say no, even though his teachings strongly discourage bonding with outsiders. the two repair the busted ship and go find XXC's master, who knows what they're going to say before they've set one foot in the door.

BONUS since i already did 6 instead of 5 oops: A-Qing is a little stowaway who sneaks onto their ship while they're doing a pitstop in a marshland town. having grown up on the streets after being separated from her only family, she is often looked down on by both those in the town and the neighboring larger city, who know her to be a thief and a pest who is mysteriously too quick and limber despite having eyes like pearls. they only find out about her presence on their ship once XXC's stash of candied (space) pine nuts starts getting smaller than it should, and by then the marshland town is but a speck in the distance. they have to spend a few months at their destination and do not have the heart to just leave her on a random doorstep, nor do they want to turn around and go back to where she came from; XXC understands what it's like to want to leave home behind. unsure of what to do with her, they let her stay beside them as they do their work, and she begins to study their movements remarkably closely. one day she surprises the two by swinging her staff at the man they're pursuing! it seems someone taught her the basics of fighting when she was very small, but she can no longer remember their face.

[gabessquishytum]

Sorry in advance if this is weird, but pregnant omega warprize!Hob just won't leave me alone. I just can't stop thinking about him giving birth. What would their society dictate? Is just like any other medieval royal mechanism and Dream is expected to stay away? Because then I have the image of Dream sitting somewhere farthest of it as possible, because he knows, he KNOWS he's not supposed to, but the whole castle is flooded with Hob's distress pheromones and he's just whiteknuckling his way through it, biting his cheek, and it has been a whole day already and he's so worried... He is king, he should have better self control, but he's an absolute mess.

But then. But then one of the nurses comes running and excuses herself a thousand times, and she knows it's unusual, and never drive before, but could he please come right the fuck now?

Because it turns out that Hob is in transition and they desperately need to check him, but Hob just... won't let them. He bites or kicks anyone that comes near and he's so deep in it mentally that all he can manage between animal screams of pressure and pain is Dream's name.

So of course he goes (runs, the castle staff swears he flew) and there's Hob on all fours, the doctor all terrified, standing around the bed. And then Dream's smell hits Hob and he just starts crying from relief, he was so scared and so alone and now his mate is here thank god, and he's so glad that his body relaxes and starts pushing on his own.

And Dream might not have been there to see him through the worst, but he's here to see his child come into the world and reassure Hob at the end.

Alternatively Dream wanders the castle aimlessly and at the first whiff of a strained grunt (nothing bad yet, it's still early) from Hob he kicks down the door and orders everyone to shut up about it. Maybe get him some coffee. What do you mean he needs to rest, does HOB get to rest?! No?! Then chop chop, be quick about it.

Dream massaging Hob's back between contractions. Dream praising Hob at every turn even if he curses him. The head of the kingdom offering his forearm as a chewtoy for the first few contractions during pushing because the staff wasn't quick enough to bring something else. Dream ordering the Doctors to tell him what to do unless it's an emergency, because Hob is fucking HIS and nobody's allowed to touch him except him when he's this distressed and vulnerable. Yeah.

(again, apologies if this is too weird for you.)

(is 🦒 already taken?)

I'm always up for a horny birth scenario! Welcome to the family, 🦒 anon!

Love the idea of Hob going a lil bit feral when he's in labour, because Holy Shit why wouldn't he? It hurts so much and he's totally overwhelmed with hormones, he doesn't want to be touched by anyone ever again... and then in comes Dream and for a moment, everything is better. Hob still wants to BITE and SCRATCH but only a little bit. Dream can touch him, if he doesn't mind being sworn at.

The doctors have attempted to tell Hob how he ought to be positioning himself but he tells them to fuck right off, he's seen plenty of pups delivered back in his home country and he knows what he's doing. He moves around a LOT and Dream just follows him and tries to provide as much comfort as he can in the circumstances. He really just wishes that he could be the one doing the labour for Hob. It's his dick that got them into all this trouble, after all.

Hob eventually delivers their beautiful daughter right into Dream’s arms, somewhere around midnight. She takes over the screaming duties and the servants finally try to get Dream out of the room, but he's going nowhere. He gets Hob all nice and cleaned up and makes sure that their pup is resting on his chest as soon as possible.

Hob’s pheromones are going crazy and he hardly even feels the pain of the birth as he lies in Dream’s arms. He's a little embarrassed that Dream saw him Like That - and mortified by the big bite mark on the king’s pale wrist. Hob doesn't even remember doing that, oops. Still he's snuggled up to Dream now, instinct making him gently lick Dream’s neck, while their pup gurgles happily after her very first feed.

Is Dream already thinking about the next pup? Of course. He wants to give Hob as much time as possible to recover but God he's gonna miss seeing his mate good and pregnant. Plus, Hob’s postpartum body is about to drive him absolutely wild with lust... it's going to be very hard to resist his omega in the next few months <3

[wyn-n-tonic]

TAKE-O-VER — CHAPTER FIVE: CHANGE

Word Count: 2k+ Warnings (in general): Voyeurism. Stalking. Kidnap. Human rights violations out the ass, really. Author's Note: Um... hi and thank you for being so incredibly patient and kind for the almost two years that it has taken me between chapters of this. I really appreciate the nice words people have left me about this, the promise that they're not being pressure-y. I had a lot happen and this was one of the stories I set to the side because it felt like it took too much mental energy from me to continue it while I was not in a good place. I'm much better now (at least I think I am) and I don't know... I just started writing a scene out yesterday and I was like, 'Wait, this can't go in Frizzy or Flash.... oh shit, this is Gen's story." So... surprise! And thanks again for reading!

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Is this it?

She can’t help thinking that every time she looks at her phone, at the blank screen and the barely answered texts.

Is this why he didn’t want to come here? Why he insisted that he stay? Is he leaving her? Is it done?

All their years set aside so that he can… what? Go back to the FBI? Run off with a new lover? Give her everything of Gen’s? Touch some new girl with a perfectly waxed pussy the way he touched her at the beginning of it all? Even there near what she’s denying herself is the end, he never changed. He’s only changed now. He’s different now. 

She even had a friend drop by the gallery, put eyes on the man she hasn’t been able to pin down, only to find out that it was closed. Gen was asked if she wanted her to go further, go to the house, but the answer was a clear no. She’d give him this façade, this act. She’d take the small moments of attention, analyze them. She’d try to find him in the pieces and, then, when she goes home, she’ll confront him on all the parts that have been missing.

It’s been not even—or maybe just—two weeks now. Lonely in a big city. A big room, a big bed. A different kind of sadness than she ever thought she’d experience.

A dull ache in the pit of her stomach that could only be touched and soothed by a man so far away. 

On the morning she left, she thought it would just be distance.

Fifty-five hundred miles away likes her heart, in a place the art isn’t suffering but he certainly is. Lonely, cold and then hot with nothing but a lamp to cut through the dark and new knots in his back from the concrete he calls bed.

The other man, the mirror man—Dave—comes and goes. He brings food, asks questions—washes out the bucket Marcus calls a bathroom. Not that he has much going through his body right now, stress and lack of water drying him out. He did try to fight a few days in, got knocked back on his ass as quick as he could get up and stayed there as the other man broke a rib with a hard kick, told him he was lucky he didn’t do more.

Dave told Marcus that if he played nice, was a good boy, that this would all be over soon and he’d be back when Genevieve is. So long as he promises to never speak of this again.

He’s trying ways to get messages to her, wonders if she’s already figured it out. Dave won’t answer any question Marcus asks back so Marcus has taken to lying. If the other man has copped on, he hasn’t made a show of it. All he says is that she’s good.

She doesn’t suspect a thing.

But Marcus heard Dave address her as Genevieve on the phone and hoped she picked it up, too. Because Marcus hasn’t used her whole name since the day he said his vows.

Marcus also noticed that Dave calls her baby a lot and he does too but she’s not the biggest fan of it. She prefers honey or sweetheart or gorgeous. She prefers things that don’t make her feel small unless she wants to feel that. And she communicates what she wants but this man doesn’t know how to hear it.

The door slides open, footsteps fall, and he appears again with more food, some baby wipes and a change of clothes like that makes up for not having a shower in days.

“Are you any closer to the end of this so called plan?” Marcus asks. “Pretty sure I’m getting fucking bed sores down here.”

“I’ll be sure to bring you some ointment tomorrow,” the other man breathes out. “To answer your question, though, I don’t know. I can’t seem to pinpoint the motherfucker who’s supposed to be tracking me so, as long as that persists, so will you.”

“And this”—Marcus gestures vaguely to the air—“motherfucker who is tracking you… would he hurt my wife? To get to you, I mean.”

Dave shakes his head, his hair having grown out slightly, his beard cut in patches to do its best Marcus impression. “Robert wouldn’t hurt an innocent person, especially not somebody else’s wife. Especially not to get to me.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust you on that?”

“You don’t really have any other choice,” Dave says, the words coming out low and dangerous. “Robert would never hurt her to get to me because I don’t care about anybody but myself in this, she would just be an innocent person caught in the crossfire.”

“Would you hurt her?” Marcus asks, trying to breathe through the nerves as he awaits the answer he doesn’t know if he really wants. 

Dave stares at him, blinks a few times and finally says, “no. I don’t want to hurt anymore innocent people either.” 

“And what am I?”

He purses his lips and shrugs. “A tool.” 

A tool with a broken rib and clothes hanging off of his body from the weight he’s let go of already. He wants to know more, about how she is. Dave wants to tell him but he knows that would just give him a purpose to actually try and fight next time he gets the chance.

As Dave leaves, Marcus asks how the cat is and Dave laughs.

“Little orange fucker hisses at me every time he sees me but, don’t worry, I won’t hurt him. I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit but I’d never do that.”

“So you’d kill a woman and not a cat? Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Marcus asks.

“I've already told you,” Dave says and it’s the most real he’s sounded this whole time. “I'm tired of hurting people, I never meant to hurt ones that didn’t deserve it in the first place. War criminals, crooked politicians… whoever I was sent after, there was a reason for it. I just need to figure out a plan.”

Two weeks in and still figuring it out.

Three if you count the week of surveillance done on the man and his still blushing bride. 

Dave hasn’t told him any of the contents of her messages, how she’s seeming more and more worried with every new text that comes through and he doesn’t know how to… placate her. So he says nothing. Tacks on that he’s busy but never elaborates. He’s right, she’s fucking smart. But she also thinks that she’s done something wrong and maybe it’s not fair but he lets her believe that. Lets her get drunk and ramble at him through unanswered text messages that he’ll only share when he’s no longer around to have to look the other man in the eye. 

He’s started developing a conscience over this girl and her desperation to speak to the person she left when she got on that plane. He wonders if his own wife ever gets like this or if she’s tired from raising the two kids he’s left her with time and time again.

The conscience isn’t strong enough to not palm himself when those pictures come through. Little teases to entice him into response—dirty pictures of her tits and ass and body, sometimes covered and sometimes not. There are videos of just her face where she’s clearly touching herself and then there is the pornographic soundbites she sends while saying his name like some desperate little prayer. 

He wants to leave. He wants to unlock the man and move forward. This was never supposed to be more than a two week job. He was supposed to find Robert, get to the next step and be on his way. But his contacts are blown, his connections are gone. Everybody he reaches out to doesn’t get back to him, like he’s contagious and they can’t risk the exposure. Nobody new is coming up from the woodwork either.

So he stays in this house, pacing the open spaces of the house and the gallery, thinking and thinking and trying desperately not to think about the woman in the phone or the man in the cage. 

Or the wife he left on the other side of the country with preparation on how to live in his death. Real or fake.

Hours pass by each day, food and wine and paint spilled on the drop cloth and her overalls. She’s messy, giggly—broken hearted and showing it even if she feels like she doesn’t have a right to either. Gen tries to logic it all away, tell herself it’s fine. But every day, every unanswered text message, has the anti anxiety medication she pops like candy fighting a losing fucking battle.

“You look like shit,” the buyer says. “Did you phone fuck that beautiful man or did you ignore my advice?”

“I bought a vibrator on your credit card,” Gen responds, the rim of her glass tipping back through her wine stained lips yet again, “check your statements.”

“What did he do?” She asks, arms crossed. “You came here loving him, on top of the world. Why do you make these faces now? I haven’t seen you like this since the football player from Prague.”

“It wasn’t the football player from Prague, it was the guitarist from Lisbon.”

“Musicians,” the older woman tsks, “so moody, so hurtful. I know sweet Marcus isn’t hurting you like that man did.”

It’s not Marcus. At least, it doesn’t feel like him. She says as much through another drink from the wine glass. “I think this is just the longest I’ve been away from him since I met him, it’s daunting. I have no doubts about who I am without him, I’d just rather not be without him. Does that make sense?”

“That was me and my poor Ruben. May his soul rest in peace. I’ve not been able to take another lover since his passing, I live vicariously through you now.”

“We've been trying for a family,” Gen says. “More bad news came through not long before I left and he was so…” She trails off, hands reaching out as if she can pluck the words from the air. “…tender with me and gentle in the weeks leading up to me leaving. I’m trying to tell myself that maybe he’s pulling away to deal with his own feelings about it and I don’t doubt that he’s busy. We’re not young anymore either, we’re not midnight lovers who stay up until the sun kisses us goodnight. We’re old now, he needs sleep. I understand, I just…”

“Wish that you didn’t have to?” The buyer asks. “Understanding is not the same thing as acceptance, whatever feelings that is bringing up are what matters. You’re channeling it in a healthy way,” she says, laughing as Gen holds up the wine glass and gestures to two empty bottles. “This is France, two bottles for lunch is child’s play—amateur hour. Besides, I gave you the weak shit today—“

“I asked for it.”

“Let me act as though I’m helping, darling, please,” she insists. “Feel what you feel, act on it and speak on it. You can say you understand but that’s not the same thing as being okay with it. It can make sense and still fucking hurt,” she says, hands balled into fists and pressed into the middle of her chest. “I have never seen a man love anybody the way he loves you, a family or lack thereof, isn’t going to change that. He’s probably gone without a shower and eating the same thing every day.” 

But that’s what she’s afraid of. The withdrawal from her, the impulsive haircut, the not wanting to video chat. No response to the sexual messages at all. It’s like she got on a plane and the worst of his depression decided to rear its ugly head when she wasn’t there to help him fight it. It’s hard to pull him out of those episodes but it’s easier when she’s there and she can catch it. 

[finallydelight]

Hiiii! I was wondering if you could write about ming´s first rehearsal after her hiatus and the members´ reaction to it. It was mentioned that she hat lost weight and couldn’t keep up with the choreography🥺 i love your writings btw💕

We’ll Figure Something Out | Ming Chapter

warnings: this chapter has mentions of weight loss, fatigue, hospitals, etc. vomiting is also present in this chapter. so, if you're not comfortable with any of those, I recommend to skip this one and take care of yourself, my darlings ❤️‍🩹

author’s note: thank you so much for the request, honey ! I hope you like it and let me know what you think of it ! 🫶

November 1, 2022

Ming quietly walked into the practice room, Seungcheol's right hand firmly on her shoulder, his left one occupied with holding her bag. The members warmly welcomed them, happy to see her again in the practice room after what seemed forever.

''Hey, what did they say?'' Jeonghan asked the pair, appearing at Ming's side as soon as they had stepped in the room.

Before they walked in, Ming and Cheol had made a visit to her doctor. The company and members wanted to make sure she had medical approval to start rehearsing again. Cheol insisted on going with her, not fully trusting her to go by herself. Ming was very desperate to join the members again on tour, he didn't want to risk her lying in case the doctor said she couldn't join them yet.

Her grandmother's hospitalization had taken a huge toll on her. Ming barely slept, barely ate and kept all of her worries to herself. Overall, she wasn't taking good care of herself, physically and mentally, prioritizing her little brothers. Once she had returned to Seoul, she had lost a lot of weight, her skin looked pale and she hadn't genuinely smiled once. Obviously, it had made the members extremely worried seeing her in the state that she was. It wasn't the first time she had undergone a great loss of weight, but it had been a while since the last time.

Of course, they took care of her as well as they could. Mingyu became her personal nurse and gradually was getting her back to her regular eating routine. Next to cooking, he carried her around the dorm on his back, although after just a few days that was stopped by Jeonghan who said Ming needed to build her strength again.

''He said I could resume my activities again if I wished to, but that I need to take everything very slowly and shouldn't do anything that is too intense for me.'' Ming copied her doctor's words, a soft smile gracing her face.

The members made sounds of excitement, Soonyoung and Dokyeom even going as far as clapping for her. The staff were also very delighted to know she would be joining them again, being fond of the young woman.

''Let's start stretching then.'' Hyerim told the group, clapping her hands together. She made her way over to where Ming was taking off her jacket. ''How's your knee doing, Yerm?'' She asked her, looking down at her legs.

Ming hesitantly answered. ''If I don't put too much pressure on it, it's totally fine.'' She had taken a small tumble in the bathroom, losing her balance due to a lack of energy. She injured her knee and was forced to wear a knee brace for at least a few weeks.

''We're gonna see what your limits are today, so please,'' Hyerim pleaded, ''please, don't overestimate yourself, if it's too much no one will blame you for sitting on the side.''

She nodded at the stage director's words. ''I know, I'm gonna be careful, unnie.'' Ming assured her, knowing there's no time to fool around.

''We'll start with Left & Right! Ming-ssi, you mark through it and see what you can do.'' Their instructor said, motioning for the staff on the side to get the song ready to play.

Ming walked to her starting position, happy to be back performing with her members again even if it was only a rehearsal.

Seungkwan tapped her shoulder. ''Yerimie, be cautious, okay? You can just step out if it's too much.'' He wasn't too entirely sure about Ming practicing again, still not thinking she had recovered enough. She patted his shoulder, offering a tight-lipped smile.

She took her spot next to Jeonghan, who briefly grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. ''Don't force anything, please. Don't be like me with my arm.'' Despite the joking nature of his comment, his stern face told her he was very serious about it.

A simple nod was given to him. Ming looked down at her feet, a sudden wave of nerves crashing over her.

Their choreographer counted down and the song boomed from the speakers. Ming slightly flinched, not expecting the music to be as loud as it was.

As she went through the dance, she noticed her stamina had greatly weakened and that even without fully doing the choreography, she knew it was impossible for her to perform on tour.

However, Ming kept going. The will to prove to everyone that she could do it was stronger than her worries about possibly injuring herself more. Eventually, the song ended and the loud breathing of the members was the only sound to be heard in the room.

Hyerim slowly walked over to Ming, taking in the physique of the younger woman. ''How are you feeling?'' The stage director caressed her arms and looked deep into her eyes, creating a sort of safe space.

''I'm tired, but my knee didn't hurt or anything, so I think I can continue for now.'' It wasn't a lie, her knee felt fine and she was tired, but she downplayed it.

Hyerim and the other members that had heard weren't entirely convinced by Ming's answer, but they gave her the benefit of the doubt.

''Alright, one song and then you take a break.'' She told Ming, holding up her index finger. The older woman looked around at the members. ''What song should we do now?''

The members' eyes glanced at the three leaders that coincidentally stood together. ''Uh, World? Mansae?'' Jihoon suggested, not being too sure about it.

''I don't think she should do Mansae, too much jumping.'' Soonyoung noted, not thinking it was a good idea to do a dance with too much energy.

''Let's do Mansae then!'' Hyerim concluded, stepping back to the side of the room. She motioned to the members to get in their positions and for the staff to start the song.

Ming went to her space in-between Mingyu and Minghao, who gave her encouraging smiles. ''Take it slow, alright?'' Minghao peeped over his shoulder at her.

''Yes.''

Like earlier, the song started and everything was fine in the beginning, but once the first chorus hit, everything started going south.

The fatigue settled in, and all her energy and strength seemed to just have disappeared. Her limbs felt heavy and it became a huge task to just not fall to the ground. With even the slowest movements, her vision became blurry.

Normally, after the chorus is done, she waits by the wall to wait for her part to come up, but instead went for the door and opened it. Between the hallway and their practice room, there is a small space to leave your bags and coats, but the members barely use it. In the corner of the small space is a small trash can, she reached out for that and her entire breakfast of that morning seemed to leave her body.

She felt someone grabbing her hair and holding it together, making a ponytail. Another hand rubbed her back, soothing her. ''It's okay, don't work yourself up.'' She recognised the voice as Cheol's.

Ming sat herself down on the ground, once her stomach was emptied. Cheol sat down behind her, calming her down by putting his arms around her and moving her side to side.

''Oppa, I can't do it.'' She began to sob, covering her eyes with her hands. The man behind shushed her, caressing her arms. ''It's gonna be okay, Yerimie… just focus on your breathing now, okay?'' The leader was trying his best to prevent her from having an anxiety attack.

Jun had walked over to them, holding a water battle and some tissues. He opened the bottle and handed it to Ming. ''I know it's not gonna taste good right now, but it's important to drink some water.'' With the tissues he wiped her face clean, some traces of the vomit still evident around her mouth and on her chin.

When Jun was done, Cheol motioned for him to go back to the practice room, leaving the oldest and the second youngest alone.

''You're okay, little one. Maybe it's a little too early to perform again.'' He told her, there being no way he would let her perform on tour again if that would be the outcome after every show.

Ming shook her head, but quickly stopped as it gave her a headache. ''Noo~ I don't want to stay here all by myself again, I don't like it.'' The separation anxiety every time the members would leave had never been this bad.

''We'll figure something out, little one. We'll figure something out.''

Taglist: @seolboba @cosmicwintr @mythicalamphitrite @billboard-singer @stopeatread @still-astray @sakuurra @multiplums @giverosespls @seongwhaffels @kimhyejin3108 @smoooore @smh-anon @cixrosie @allthings-fandoms

[ajwinter-is-a-nerd]

Le Chat Et Le Serpent - Chapter 50

The Mirage Known as Fashion Week

“You do this for all your employees, Mr. Agreste?” Luka’s dry tone was particularly nasally.

Adrien held Luka’s fingers flat against his palm. Jolts of electricity surged through both of them, their cheeks simultaneously reddening. Both pretended not to notice.

Disclaimer:

Please note that the entirety of this story is a ****TRIGGER WARNING***** - mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, alcohol use, mental health, suicide, suicidal ideation, self-harm - basically a constant blow of pain towards the characters - as well as some "steamy" moments.

Chapter Summary:

Before Luka leaves to search for answers, he must fulfil his contractual obligation of fashion week. Putting on a fake smile is a lot harder when the love of your life is within feet of you and you can't touch them, you can't hug away their pain...

The buzz of people blurred past Luka's vision. Slight nods of assent or the restringing of an instrument blended into the mirage known as Fashion Week.

"Doesn't she, Luka?" Rose's eyes vibrated as she waited for him to answer. Luka hadn't realised she'd been speaking.

"Huh?" Luka half sparked to consciousness, not fully aware that he was in the process of working on the strings of a dress.

"Doesn't Juleka look gorgeous?" Rose nosed in closer to Luka's face, trying to analyse his emotional state.

"Oh, uh, of course." Luka agreed, knowing no matter what his sister would be draped with pride and beauty.

"Is he awake now?" Juleka chuckled, shaking the strings in Luka's fingers as she did.

Sighing, Luka continued his work. He didn't know how he missed the fact that he was working on Juleka's dress.

"We might have woke him up too soon." Rose whispered. After years, Rose had still not learned that whispering was ineffectual around Luka. His ear was too trained from living with Juleka to not understand hushed voices.

Adrien was making one of his routine visits, ensuring everything was in order. From a standing position, he was pushing his palms against the table, reviewing a document with Marinette. His perfectly golden hair had grown out, the sides were shaven, but the hair on the top was spun into a bun that slightly bounced as he spoke.

The violin string snapped as Luka saw what Rose was talking about. Jade eyes shot in his direction, reacting to the sharp noise.

Luka grimaced under the gaze of Adrien, well aware of the light red mark on his face from the pressure of the string.

"You alright, Luka?" Adrien politely inquired.

"Fine!" Luka dug in the pocket of his bag for his arsenal of back-up strings, hoping Adrien's glance would drop by the time he pulled out an a-string.

The serious watch continued as Luka's fingers trembled while spinning the peg. He realised he should have taken out the broken string first. His shakes increased as Adrien left his post, stepping towards them.

"Take five, Couffaine." Adrien ordered as he took over the removal of the snapped string from the violin.

Clenching his jaw, Luka passed the string to Rose before storming out.

"Fashion week is crazy!" Adrien beamed as he put his hands in the air, still riding off the high of his second Paris fashion week.

"Oh yeah? It can't be any crazier than an Akuma battle." Luka brushed his lips against Adrien's neck.

"You would be surprised. At least you have an idea of what to expect in an attack. Plus, any mistakes you make are fixed by magical insects." Adrien giggled at the comparison. "Everything is so intense! Time goes by so fast and it feels like people never stop yelling. The first Fashion Week I headed after my father, I thought I was going to die."

"Mmm... we can't have that, now can we?" Luka pulled Adrien in closer, adoring the light twinkling in his eyes. Most of the business bored Adrien, but the hectic moments of bustle seemed to energise him.

"I'm so happy you're going to be there for the next one. It will be way better with you there." Adrien kissed the tip of Luka's nose. 

"I can't wait." Luka ran his fingers through Adrien's hair as the sweet taste of euphoria caressed his tongue.

Luka stormed out the propped door to join the other disgruntled staff inhaling the brisk autumn air with a crisp backing of nicotine. Shoving the soft filter in his mouth, he watched the flame suck into the tip of his smoke.

"My boy! When did you pick up this nasty habit?" A familiar voice beckoned to Luka across the smoke pit.

Of course you're here. Why did I not assume that you would be added on to the crap pile I already have to deal with?

Pulling the smoke out of his mouth, he rested his hand on his jeans. "Seemed like a better vice than opioids."

Their relationship had been getting progressively better, but today was not the day to test Luka's luck.

"Ouch," Jagged Stone held his hand that carried his smoke over his heart as he walked to Luka. "I've been clean for years now, Luka. Trust me, this," Jagged waved his smoke, "is nearly just as bad. You're too young to throw your life away."

Snarling, Luka spit towards the ground. "Little late for advice, don't you think?"

Jagged's shoulders relaxed as he reevaluated his approach. "Luka, your mum and I are really worried about you. She says you've taken the break-up really badly."

Taking another drag, Luka shook his head. "Don't voice my shit here. It's no one's business," he inhaled again, "not even yours."

Defeated, Jagged nodded his head. "I get it, Kid. Just know that I'm here for you if you need. Oh- by the way, I love the new do!"

Jagged held his middle and index fingers on both hands together as he motioned towards Luka's hair. He was still sporting a similar hairstyle to their last night in front of the mirror, the night where Adrien stood iced on the dock of The Liberty. Maybe it was his form of the classic break-up chop, or the fact that it was time for a change. He didn't think the shag worked the same without shots of colour. Now, the sides had a fade shaved into them, the hair on the top of his head was longer and pushed back. The look was maintained partially by gel and partially by a nervous smoothing back of his hair in a constant need to control something. There were always some hairs that would jet forward, but he wouldn't feel like himself if there wasn't at least some disarray. Though seemingly contradictory, it was a form of controlled chaos.

Finishing up his smoke, he returned to the mad house.

"Take five, Couffaine." The words felt cold as they left Adrien's lips, but it was how he would approach any other employee that was clearly on edge.

"You know how to string one of these?" Juleka mocked as Adrien pushed the edge of the string through the peg.

"Juleka," Adrien once again leaned towards a formal dialect, "I've spent almost every day for nearly the past three years with your brother. Do you really think I wouldn't have learned to string a violin by now?"

He wove the string with a steady hand and expert capability, silencing Juleka's teasing.

Not wanting to make his model uncomfortable, Adrien continued speaking. "You're leaving for another international shoot soon, right? Are you excited?"

"I'm scared to leave Luka." Juleka admitted, her brother was making a rapid downward spiral.

"Yeah, but he's going to be going on tour, so there's not much you could do anyway. I wouldn't worry too much, things are looking up in his life." He tightened the peg, finishing the task. "Plus, I heard he finally shed off his drama queen of a boyfriend."

Juleka chuckled, effectively soothed by Adrien's self-deprecating humour. "Yeah, I don't know how Luka could handle such extensive hair care seminars!"

"Hey, obviously it worked! He's going to have to be batting away all the men and women now that he's looking so sharp." Adrien briefly smiled at his own comment.

"I think he needs a slut phase." Juleka stated confidently.

Adrien was scanning her dress for any imperfections as he responded. "Ew, too far Jules, too far."

Rose smiled sheepishly at their back and forth, it was comforting to see their friendship shining through the post-break-up tension.

Adrien repositioned a few strands of hair before resting his hands on both of Juleka's arms. "You're good to go! See you in half."

"Adrien?" Marinette called. "Can you grab me a coffee?"

Confused as Adrien stepped away, Rose peeked towards Marinette. "Don't you guys have people specifically for that?"

"Yeah, but I like it better when Adrien gets it." Marinette nonchalantly replied as she called the next model in.

"Oh, I would have gotten you a coffee too if I knew you needed one." Luka furrowed his brow at Adrien standing in line.

"Next!" The clerk called.

"May I have a large chai tea latte with coconut milk, please?" Adrien ordered before turning his attention to Luka. "It's fine, I wasn't expecting to grab one."

"That's not your regular order." Luka chose to drop the second half of his line, 'you would normally say it has way too much sugar and not enough caffeine.'

"Yeah, I already have one going. This one's for Marinette." Adrien tapped his card before walking to stand by Luka.

The lid popped off Luka's drink, sending nearly an ounce of hot liquid down his fingers. "Ow - fuck!" He rushed to the counter to pull out napkins. As he tried to wipe himself and the cup, Adrien was tilting over the counter's edge.

Why does she have to do this shit? Luka screamed internally. This whole fucking show she keeps demeaning him with trivial requests. 'Adrien, take this to the garbage', 'Adrien, get me some 4-ply toilet paper', 'Adrien, can you bend over so I can show off the seams on your butt'. How is no one else calling her out on this shit? It's not a good look to have the CEO fucking bending over for a cackle of ogling models.

His infuriated line of thought was broken by Adrien's touch. Wordlessly, he took the paper towel wetted with cold water against Luka's skin.

"It's okay, I like taking care of you." Luka reassured his Prettyboy while he ran a damp towel over his face.

Adrien groaned. "I feel like a damn damsel in distress when you dote on me like this."

"You'll always be my damsel in distress," Luka teased. "Plus, you have a weird way of always missing some. You'd think after this long you'd know how to wash your face."

Giant emerald eyes glared at him in feigned irritation.

"Like I said," Luka smirked at Adrien's childish grimace, "I love taking care of you."

Adrien's face blushed as he got lost in Luka's smile. 

"You do this for all your employees, Mr. Agreste?" Luka's dry tone was particularly nasally.

Adrien held Luka's fingers flat against his palm. Jolts of electricity surged through both of them, their cheeks simultaneously reddening. Both pretended not to notice.

"It doesn't look like you suffered any significant burns. Your skin might be a bit sensitive, but nothing requiring additional attention." Adrien lowered his hand, signalling Luka to hold the weight of his own fingers. "It's a good thing your drinks are overflowing with sugar or it might have been worse."

"Large chai latte with coconut milk!" The barista set the cup on the counter.

Lifting the cup to Luka, Adrien bid adieu. "I'll see you back in there, Couffaine."

Luka swore he used his last name on purpose. Twisting the knife already lodged in his stomach.

When Luka reentered their area, Adrien was in the process of finishing an imitation of Chat's moonwalk.

Well, this can't be anything good. Luka controlled the urge to squeeze his cup, not wanting to invite the same fate as two minutes ago.

"That was so good, Adrien!" Marinette clapped.

"Whatever brings the mood up, right?" Adrien beamed. "All I have left to check is the piano piece, are you okay to confirm that one, Marinette?"

"Absolutely!" Marinette hopped up, genuinely thrilled.

As Adrien walked towards the door, his face dropped. Luka watched as Adrien's jaw clenched and his eyes grew jaded. He paced by Luka with such speed it lifted the stray hairs off Luka's forehead.

Setting down his coffee, Luka looked towards Marinette, who was happily humming as she verified each hem. He scanned to see if there would be anything instrumental that required his attention. Deciding he should be clear, he spun to follow Adrien. He could tell when the man was attempting to manage a panic attack.

Dropping his head to the ground, Luka checked to see if there were any other feet besides Adrien's in the stalls. Confident that they were the only two in there, he dead bolted the door behind him.

"Who's there?" Adrien's back straightened, still with one hand on the toilet bowl. He heard the locking of the door and was understandably on edge.

"Thought you might want the extra privacy." Luka leaned against the blue painted stall.

Adrien scoffed as he rested his head on his forearm. He wanted to sound strong, to seem resilient. This was extremely hard to convey when struggling to breath and crying non-stop between spouts of puking. "Thought you would give me privacy by locking yourself in with me, because that makes sense."

"I know you don't want anyone seeing you like this." Luka flatly responded, nuzzling his head against the door.

"How did you know I w-was-," Adrien's breath hitched, devolving into sobs.

Adrien was gasping and twitching as a nightmare overcame him. Luka tried to calmly talk him through it, to let him know that he was there.

Luka felt helpless as Adrien ran to the bathroom. Part of Luka wanted to believe it was only this bad because of Gabriel's memorial that day, but Plagg's expertise in care demonstrated otherwise.

Adrien didn't want Luka seeing him like this, he didn't want Luka to know how broken he was. But Luka was there to stay.

Luka's palm was lifted by the seizing of Adrien's back, but his touch seemed to provide soothing relief. He kept rubbing his back and whispering that he was there.

Adrien used the back of his hand to wipe the bile from his lips. He rested his face on his forearm against the toilet seat, wanting to fade away completely.

Instead of fading away, warm hands circled his waist. The pain melted as Adrien allowed himself to fall back into Luka's hold. Tears still trickled, but the intense emotion had changed. As Luka rested his nose in Adrien's hair, Adrien stopped caring about his sweat, his clammy skin, or his drooping posture.

Plagg welcomed Luka to 'la maison Agreste' as he dropped off a bottle of water.

As Adrien gulped the water, Luka ran his nose in the crook of Adrien's neck. He could feel Adrien's pulse stabilising.

He wanted to say it then, he was ready for it, but he knew the moment wasn't right. But he was certain, he loved Adrien.

Setting the bottle down beside him, Adrien backed further into the blue haired man behind him. Even the man's breath was calming. It made his existence tangible. 

Adrien had no idea what he had done to deserve this man, but he thanked the universe for bringing them together. He brought his hand up to push Luka's face harder into his temple. 'This,' he thought to himself, 'must be what love feels like.'

"I've known you for a long time, Adrien. I can tell when you're trying to subdue a panic attack." Luka's hand pressed against the stall door.

"I- I don't understand what's happening." Adrien's sobs fell harder, encouraging another fit of vomit.

"You've got this, Adrien. You've been to hell and back. This is nothing but a hiccup." Luka tried to reassure him.

"No! This is hell!" Adrien's back arched as he pushed his forehead into his arm, desperately wanting his torture to stop.

"Adrien~," Luka elongated his name.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE, LUKA?" Adrien shouted in fury.

"I... I just wanted to help." Luka bit his trembling lip.

"Don't lie to me." Adrien allowed his body to limp around the porcelain. "You made it pretty clear you have no interest in me anymore."

Luka's palm against the door turned to a fist as tears fell against his restraint.

Thumbing his own tears, Adrien fired one last shot. "I'm sure Zoe, or whoever else you're fancying nowadays, needs your attention more than I do."

Not wanting to leave, Luka counted down from ten. Once he reached one, he would force himself to leave.

Trembling, Adrien listened to each of Luka's receding steps.

-

I'm caught in a hurricane I'm leaving here dead or alive And I know that I'd be willing to feel the pain If it got me to the other side 'Cause it only hurts, hurricane Yeah, I can feel it hurt, hurricane

Hurricane by Theory of a Dead Man

Author's Notes:

Going back through this story has been a journey of itself. I think this is my favourite chapter in this entire series. Trying to get better, but everything is getting worse.

Originally this was wrote with "Hate Me" by Blue October in mind - but it just didn't end up being the right quote, and it broke my heart 😭

Here's a line for you anyway, "An ounce of peace is all I want for you; will you never call again?"

The only flashback that is a direct retelling of a scene from the story is the last one. The first time that Luka sees Adrien's bad panic attacks in action. The one where Plagg thinks this kid's not half bad.

Disclaimer * The characters and original plot were written and created by Thomas Astruc. This writing is merely an interpretation in a sad gay type of way.

[idiotwithanipad]

Gore Au: The Heir

(A part 3 to: https://www.tumblr.com/idiotwithanipad/754120512986300416/gore-au-first-meeting

(Ft Silver, @moonah-rose 's OC)

(In my Gore AU, all the ghosts memories and mental states are warped due to trauma and time. They're constantly in the mindset they were in moments before their deaths)

Amy's throat and stomach churned and thobbed in discomfort and a density of sickness she had never experienced in life coursed through her dead veins like molten rivers of lava. She hadn't intended on opening her cursed mouth, she never wanted to taste that putrid mix of carbonated mango and hot bile ever again, but the crazed Tudor who called himself her father had ripped the scream from her quicker and she would've expected.

Burning hot embarrassment and hopelessness drove her to near bursting point, but tears never came. All that came was sticky blood which dribbled from where her lower lids had atrophied beneath her bulging eyeballs. Her 'dad' had almost been driven to swing his fist at one of the other ghosts, a peppy and stout Yorksharian with an arrow through his neck, all because he had dared to ask her if she was alright.

Amy was hustled up the stairs back towards the nearly neglected East Wing where she had been stashed away since her death. The Tudor had taken a brief moment to peer out of the slightly fogged windows to check for any 'danger' before turning back to Amy, her head hung low, her cheeks almost green with nausea.

"Come 'ere" The Tudor hushed as he wrapped his cloaked arms around the girl softly and patted the back of her hood. Amy's lip trembled as she felt the familiar disgusting pressure rising under her bloodshot eyeballs.

"You scared me half to death, Poppet. I thought you were done for. I didn't mean to take so long downstairs checking for those tight fisted bastards. I won't leave you alone like that again, I promise" He warbled, sounding on the verge of either busting into fits of relieved laughter or hysterical tears.

He pulled away from Amy and clutched her shoulders.

"You sure you aren't hurt? No burns? No blisters?" He fussed, brushing her sleeves off, trying to rid her of the invisible ailments and inspecting her hands and face closely.

Amy leaned her face away sharply and lowered her brow. Humphrey retracted his hands quickly and his brow creased in concern at the girl's solemn expression.

"I know you probably would've preferred Mum to do this, she shouldn't be too long now, okay? Humphrey assured.

Amy had heard that sentiment so many times now; Mummy will be back soon. It'll all be over when Mummy returns. Mummy's probably gone to confirm our innocence to the queen herself, that's why she's taking so long. The maddening nature of this situation made Amy wish she had never been born; no birth means no soul, and no soul means no ghost, and no ghost means no haunting or purgatory.

She'd take the burning hot raking of Satan's own pitchfork down her exposed back every day over this.

Amy's shaking hands rose up slowly before her face, and feebly, fragile and meek, she signed. A makeshift sign language she had concocted through her years of death, her only way of communication with her 'father'.

'Why can't I just go? Let me leave. I want to leave'

Humphrey's eyes filled with pity and second hand sadness, as though he understood all too well what Amy meant.

"I know, Poppet. I know it's scary, it's not the same without Mummy 'ere is it? A pox on me for not learning about you sooner, it would've made it a lot easier for you, eh?" He replied, naive as always. Amy shook her head briskly and clenched her fists at her sides. She signed again.

'No! Why don't YOU let ME go?'

Humphrey took another glanced towards the darkened window and practically growled.

"There's evil out there. They'll break down the door any minute if we're not careful. Not to mention the witch. She doesn't take kindly to most people, she would've scorched you if I hadn't gotten to you in time. You could've been killed. How do you think I would've explained that to Mum when she comes back?" Humphrey asserted, waving his hands towards the window in exasperation.

"The girl with the coloured hair was a convenient distraction for that brief second, but what if that girl had been put up to this? What if the witch is in allegiance with the guards? What if she cast a curse to us to get us killed?" His demeanour rose from calm and hushed to paranoid and agitated almost immediately as he once again tugged Amy towards himself and gripped her to his middle.

"I can't let you go because you're all Mum and I have left"

Amy froze. A bloody tear trailed down her cheek and absorbed into the already bloodied red fabric of Humphrey's jacket beneath his thick billowing cloak. He let go, once again, but his face no longer held the wide eyed and tight jawed paranoia from only seconds ago. Instead, he looked as though a special moment would befall them.

"There's something important I want to do." He spoke, bringing his hands up to his chest and plucking the heavy chain of his Livery collar from around his shoulders and rising it up over his head. He handled it delicately, as if once jerk of a wrist would cause it to disintegrate in his fingers.

Humphrey gently placed the chain around Amy's neck. The Tudor Rose and the heraldic knots, now a crest of the house of Bone hung limply around the girls narrow shoulders and down past her middle.

"This was given to me by your grandfather when I turned eighteen. I want you to have it. I would've thought your Mum would've given you a gift. Her Gabel hood maybe? She wore it on our wedding day. She may have wanted you to have it" Humphrey smiled. For the briefest of seconds, Amy became beguiled by the elegant beauty of the weighty golden emblums which dangled from around her neck.

"You're our heir after all, Poppet"

Amy was lost for figurative words. Her eyes stared down at the Livery Collar in awe, almost for a split second believing that this insanity was real.

'She didn't hurt me'

Amy signed. Humphrey rose an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"The witch's girl?"

'Yes. She was kind to me. A bit crazy, but kind'

Humphrey rose his hand and placed it over Amy's shoulder gently.

"She may be. She isn't the threat, she's just a child, like you. But she may not even be aware that she could've been set up to lure you away from me. The guards want our family dead and you're the last of the Bone's, Poppet. I can't risk you being taken away from me"

The forest grew lighter, the amber glow of a summer sunrise shine through the trees. The dancing girl rested atop a mossy log, a contented smile spread on her sleeping face. Her mother, the witch, kept her eyes on the house. What her daughter wanted was a friend her own age. She knew this day would come; the day that her darling girl would wish to spread her delicate wings and take to new winds.

Her sincere please and hurt at the mention of never seeing the fizzy girl again had tugged at the witch's heart. She left the slumbering girl's side to go seek the help of her companion who shared no words with anybody. She found him where he usually dwelled, perched atop a rock overlooking the calm lake. His grizzled face watched the beams of sunlight reflecting from the water beneath his fur wrapped foot which dangled down near the surface.

He could smell her coming, but he never dared look at her without her making the first move.

"Dearest ally~" The witch spoke gently, more gentle than last night, but her dry voice held determination and a deep thirst to uncover a potential hidden secret.

The creature turned his head halfway to listen to her words, though he dared not look at her, keeping his eyes to the soil.

"The child which my darling girl does ask for. Watch her while my darling girl takes her slumbers. Bring me any truths about her so I will diverge them from the lies she may tell. Don't let her out of your sights"

[vidiaofthewind]

Silence {Vidia & Max}

An Alarm goes off at town hall

Set: March 12

@trackedbymaximus

Previous Reading

Bubbling to the Surface Like a Tornado From Blood to Dust

VIDIA 

The alarm blared and Vidia for once in her life had stayed completely still as she stared at the dust in her hands.

She destroyed the crown.

It didn't make sense. 

It wasn't that old. The case wasn't pressurized. Why was this happening?

Vidia's ears were ringing as blood from her hand and where she had punched through the glass dropped in an unknown pattern.

She didn't even hear the sirens.

She didn't hear the door slam open. 

Vidia didn't run.

MAXIMUS

It was Maximus’s turn to work the late shift, although those were usually quiet in Swynlake. Unless some magical disaster happened, the city tended to roll up the sidewalks which meant there wasn’t a lot to attract the criminal element. He didn’t mind, as it usually served as time to go over the information for ongoing cases in between patrols. 

Until the alarm went off for Town Hall.

Within moments, he and the officer that was working the shift with him were up from their desks and into the waiting patrol car, sirens on for safety as they raced down the street and to the steps of Town Hall. 

When they raced inside, Maximus could see a single woman standing there frozen, along with the glints of shattered glass on the ground. 

“Police. Don’t move.” 

VIDIA

Vidia didn't move. Not because she was demanded not to but because the crown was now dust in her hands.

How did that happen?

Why did that happen?

It had to be the humans fault.

Fairies crafted Items that would never crumble like that. But even that thought process didn't make her feel better that she may have destroyed a priceless Artifact.

The only motion in the room was the dust falling. The blood dripping from her hand.

MAXIMUS

Maximus cautiously approached the still woman, quickly taking in the scene in front of him. He knew the officer with him would have already taken pictures of the scene for reference since there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, and they would take more when they were able to return to properly investigate and clean the scene. 

For now, the story told was obvious. The case for the Fairy Crown was smashed. The woman standing there had blood on her hand from the glass of the case. The crown was gone. 

“Ma’am, I am placing you under arrest for breaking and entering and for destruction of public property. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention something you later rely on in court.” The rote phrase slipped out of his lips as he approached her with the handcuffs that he’d pulled off of his belt. 

When she didn’t make any sign of running, he quickly handcuffed her. They’d have to deal with the cut as soon as they got back to the station, but as it wasn’t life threatening, he wanted her out of there first. 

VIDIA

Vidia’s first reaction was to pull back. To not let the cuffs go around her wrists but he already had a good grip on her.

She could have used her magic. She could have him blown away. But that would make this worse.

She wasn't violent.

Even if the display here didn't prove that.

“I didn't take the crown. It just turned to dust. It shouldn't have done that.”

MAXIMUS

Internally, he raised an eyebrow. He found that hard to believe. That was supposed to be a gift from the fairies, and there was nothing in there that should have dissolved that quickly. 

But that was only one detail among many. 

After all, whether or not she currently had the crown didn’t change the fact that she had clearly been intending to take the crown, as evidenced by everything else on the scene. It didn’t change her other charges regardless. Theft was only one part. 

“When we’re back at the station, you can tell me exactly what happened.” 

Taking her elbow with a firm grip, he started to walk with her back towards the car. 

VIDIA

Vidia Cursed mentally. She should know more about police matters. What to say. What not to say.

Did She call Clarion?

Did she call Tofi?

What did she do?

As Vidia frantically worked all this in her Head James could be seen running to townhall. Stopping short as he saw the flashing lights and the fairy in handcuffs.

“Fuck.” Glancing at town hall and the police officers, James pulled out his own phone. He'd get some records and information before pulling Clarion in.

The RAS didn't need to interfere if this was just Vidia acting brash but brash and as impulsive as she was she did deserve proper representation. 

Put into the car Vidia let out a small Huff her magic blowing her hair away from her face.

First thing first.

Dont get in more trouble by talking.

MAXIMUS

It was a short ride back to the station before Maximus was helping her out of the car and inside. He walked past the initial desks and straight into the interview room with her. 

He hadn’t used the magic suppression handcuffs on her as he hadn’t thought of it in the moment, although with the better light he was questioning if he should have. But she hadn’t done anything stupid since he’d arrived hopefully she would keep it that way. 

As they’d walked past, he’d given a nod to the officer who had peeled off to grab the first aid kit and call the paramedics to take a look at her before handing him the kit. 

Entering the room, he let go of her elbow and took the kit, walking over to start the tape recorder before he said anything else. He set the first aid kit down on the table and let her choose which seat she would prefer.

“Interview begun at 11:30 pm on March 12, 2024 Deputy Sheriff Maximus Keaton is here. Please state your name for the record.” 

VIDIA

It was weird, he was weird. Letting her choose a seat. A trick. Something to get her guard down. Like he wasn’t out to get her.

Vidia didn’t like it.

She didn’t know what to expect.

And she really liked knowing what to expect.

Staring at the tape recorder, then the first aid kit and then him as he spoke. 

She didn’t trust him.

“Vidia Windwhistler.”

MAXIMUS

Her silent hostility didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was used to the distrust people held for the police, and as a fairy, that was likely to be even worse. In some corner of him he sympathized. 

But not enough to change what was happening here. Whatever she thought of herself, she had been caught in the act of breaking into a public building, destroying property, and interfering with something that was considered a town treasure. Fairy or not, there were laws she needed to respect. 

His tone stayed even and careful. “How do you prefer to be addressed Ms. Windwhistler? Do I have permission to perform some basic first aid until the paramedics arrive?”

VIDIA

“The paramedics don’t need to be called.” Honestly Vidia was relying a little bit on the pain to ground herself. It stopped her from going into her head. Lost in the thoughts that would and could strangle her.

She should have just run.

“Vidia is fine too.”

MAXIMUS

“Vidia, do you realize that you are bleeding? We will need to make sure that there isn’t any glass in your wounds.” 

He kept his voice steady, not sure what degree of shock she was in. He couldn’t interrogate her about what happened until she was stable, or until she formally refused medical care on record. 

He didn’t see the point in mentioning that the paramedics had already been called and were likely on their way there. She could argue with them when they arrived, as that wasn’t his problem. His problem was to respond to the emergency using his best judgment. 

VIDIA

Vidia leveled her gaze at the deputy. No shit she knew that she was bleeding. But why would she accept help from someone who just wanted the worse from her. 

“It's a biohazard Or something?” Vidia questioned though her voice lacked the usual bite it would have.

“Fine. Whatever.”

MAXIMUS

Technically yes and no in response to her question. If it was human blood, it was absolutely a biohazard. Fairy blood was something more complicated than that, and he knew how desirable some people had found it. He’d been involved once in arresting a black market dealer in fairy blood when he’d been relatively new to the Force, and what he’d seen in that place still lived in his memory - including how his fellow officers had reacted. 

So. He would treat it like a biohazard and clean this room thoroughly, and make sure that everything else her blood had touched was cleaned just as thoroughly. Better to think of it as a biohazard. 

He didn’t respond to the question as he saw the paramedic through the window of the door and he waved them in. 

Maximus took a moment to relate what he had seen and the potential concerns, and the cheerful medic quickly cleaned Vidia’s hand and ensured there wasn’t any class still inside. Once she was bandaged, the paramedic nodded to Maximus and stepped out again, presumably to talk to the officer who was still out there. 

“Now. Will you tell me what happened this evening?”

VIDIA

The man moved carefully. With purpose. Every movement he made. Every Movement the paramedics made she eyed carefully.

As if they would lunge at her. Dragging her into some black hole that she would never be able to escape.

But as soon as that process started. It had ended.

Would she?

Should she?

“No. I'd like to call a lawyer instead.”

MAXIMUS

Maximus bit back a sigh. He’d hoped that she would make this easy, simply confess and they could move on with their night as he started to move through all the steps that came next. But nothing in this town was ever that easy. 

Although this case was pretty cut and dried, and they would have all the forensic evidence they needed. But he preferred to have everything as neat as possible. 

“Very well. I’ll walk you to the phone so you can make your call. Interview terminated at 11:47 pm.” 

He stood up and stood at the door, holding it open for her so she could choose to walk through. 

VIDIA

Vidia had two options. Clarion who probably had a lot of say but there was part of her that thought Clarion would leave her to rot. The Queen had told her to leave it and yet Vidia couldn’t.

Even if the plan hadn’t been all of this.

The other option was more likely. Someone that would actually help her spin a tale.

Making the phone call, Vidia was careful as she spoke as she was advised.

She wouldn’t speak anymore, not until someone else that knew the system could intervene.

Vidia was in the right and honestly, considering the fairy crown was so obviously fake. The whole town could get fucked.

MAXIMUS

As Vidia made her call, Maximus stood nearby, making sure he was in between her and the door. He didn’t listen beyond first identifying that it wasn’t Belle she was speaking to. He didn’t know enough of the lawyers in town yet to recognize who else it might be. 

He’d know them all before long, he was sure. 

Whatever she thought, she had broken the law today and she would be answerable for that fact. 

As soon as she was done, he walked her back to the cell and locked her inside. She could make herself comfortable in there until the lawyer came, and then they would finish this conversation. For now, he had paperwork to fill out and clean up to organize. 

[yaminerua]

god please let £180,000 materialise out of the sky this year bc if it doesn’t somehow I don’t know what I’m going to do tbh

a fucking remortgage taken out when I was a child while my parents battled against a fraudulent company that screwed us over over 20 years ago is haunting me still.

bc the mortgage lender refused to remove my mum even tho she didn’t want anything to do with it after divorcing my dad in 2006. In 2018 she started trying to force the house to be sold and in 2019 my dad’s then gf paid off the whole thing, thus removing the problem, until she decided to fucking become the problem…

She paid it off under the guise of helping us while she was still dating him and then turned around almost immediately and demanded we pay it back to HER instead swiftly despite knowing our situation.

The woman has multiple empty houses and she wants to add ours to it and we can’t get any fucking help like not even the police would help even when dad showed them her crazy texts. This is the same woman who worked as a GP and sent my dad limericks she wrote about how suicidal the idea of losing the house makes me. Literally made lots of joking messages about my mental health and how ‘losing the house’ would ‘teach’ me. She referred to me almost exclusively as ‘VB’ which she explained in the first text she sent my dad about it stood for Violet Bott, a spoiled brat from a book series who would ‘scream and scream until sick’ to get her way. she wanted to characterise my terror at the prospect of losing the fucking house to being a brat who needed to be taught a lesson…

Dad stayed with her even tho she was batshit bc she promised she would help. And then as soon as she had, she broke things off and demanded full repayment. And look at us now. 5 years later all we’ve been able to pay each month is the £600 interest She charges on top and we’ve made no dent on the original £180,000.

We were only given 5 years by her to pay it off (and that’s not even talking about the moment she tried to force it to be 6 months right as dad was being pressured to sign the contract). That was in 2019 so some time in the summer of this year the time will be up and I’m fucking terrified.

I’ve never begged for donations bc I didn’t really think there was any chance it could make a realistic dent. I couldn’t even get enough money to buy a replacement laptop and this is much more than that. there are countless other causes that need urgent donations rn and I just felt guilty even thinking of making my own plea for assistance bc 180,000 is such a big number to ask for.

I don’t know what to do. There’s no way we’ll make that money in time and I’m fucking terrified. I don’t think I can cope with whatever happens

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

No tw’s that I’m aware of. This is a (sort of) brief vent about feeling alone.

My mother used to be a very kind woman, that is, until we went to her hometown on vacation. We were never good children, oh god we were never good children. As long as we had good grades she could offer us a bit of love.

My parents have always taken. Since I can remember they have always taken. The military is mainly at fault. Moving every three years is tough. Along with that, they took away our friends. I used to be able to visit at friends houses, but that was soon taken away. I cannot text my friends. I cannot have social media. I cannot buy my own clothes or have a job. The internet is turned off past 8 o’clock, and when they’re angry they turn it off for weeks. I put my phone in their room every night and when I wake up I have to get it. They can search my photos, delete photos, block contacts and delete apps if they so choose. My mother searches my room for anything she can hold against me. My diary where I write I used to write about my self harm, (I have since recovered) where I write about my sexual abuse. My sketchbook where I vent my frustrations. She can take my clothing and throw it away. She’s done it before to my sister. She can take my nintendo that I saved up to buy on my own.

NOTHING IS MINE. And I wake up late in the night and there is NOTHING I can do except feel trapped in this house. I can’t even cry about it or she’ll KNOW and LAUGH at me for feeling so UTTERLY HELPLESS. They have motion sensors on my windows, cameras in the front of the house. I live in the basement and have no way to escape.

And everyday I’m afraid that I’ll come into my room and NOTHING will be there. Because that’s who my mother is.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what you've been going through. It sounds like you've been living in a very controlling environment where you haven't really any privacy or anything you could truly call your own. Please know that you're not alone, and you are seen and heard.

I think it's worth unpacking this idea of not being a "good child" because sometimes this can suggest some kind of unrealistic expectation that's developmentally inappropriate being imposed on a child, and misbehavior in a child often suggests either something happening in the home or the way the child is being treated by their parent(s). It sounds like in many ways your parents didn't treat you or your personal space with respect, which may have influenced your behavior as a child. I think it's also worth highlighting how your mom's love was conditional upon your grades, when in many ways love should be unconditional.

While things like the military can explain moving around a lot and not having that sense of stability and ownership of where you are, it doesn't explain the abusive level of control you've been living with. Not being able to spend time with or even talk to your friends, not having social media (depending on age), not being able to work or buy your own clothes, and searching your phone and room are not okay. It's important to your development that you have a social life, autonomy, privacy, and personal belongings. The fact that you mentioned there's motion sensors on the windows, cameras in the front of the house, and that you live in the basement, makes it sound like a hostage situation.

I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, as you deserve the autonomy to choose what you would like to do here. But do consider reaching out to some crisis resources. You don't deserve to live like this. A mental health support nonprofit called Heartsupport has a list of various crisis lines, including for child abuse, and I strongly recommend looking into it if you're comfortable. If anyone has any other suggestions for places or resources this person can look into, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[raoulnassiri]

Raoul was wondering why he was on the verge of a panic attack as he waited for the rest of the passengers to board the plane. He had been awake since four in the morning, afraid he was going to miss his plane if he didn’t get to the airport three hours in advance. Hours during which he proceeded to stress about everything that was awaiting him once he landed — from soccer rehearsals to dealing with pressure from his team to seem perfect when he felt like a fraud. Everything he was worried about was mostly immaterial and not imminent, but it wasn’t worries he could control. They were present in his mind all the time. After spending a week with his family in Toronto, Raoul had hoped his anxiety wouldn't make an appearance as soon as he wasn’t around them anymore. He had a great relationship with his parents, and his sisters, and spending time with them helped his mental health tremendously. Since he was based in California for his sports career, he felt homesick most of the time. He was passionate about his career, but family mattered a lot to him. As soon as one trip home ended, he would book another one. When he was with them, he could forget everything that was expected of him. He assumed the effect would last longer. He remembered he had forgotten to take his medicine for his anxiety symptoms this morning, and hurried to take them before the plane would take off.

The seat in business class next to him wasn’t taken, and he hoped it would stay so, solely because he didn’t want to bother anyone with his antics, such as moving around a lot because he couldn’t stay stuck in place until the pills would take effect. He was tapping his fingers against the arm rest when the prettiest woman he’s ever seen sat next to him. He smiled at her, feeling even more nervous yet hoping that wasn’t visible on his face. He had managed to keep his mental health under wraps from his teammates for a long time until he released a statement about his donations towards mental health organisations, where he admitted he suffered from generalized anxiety himself. Surprisingly, they were very supportive of him, which made him reflect once again about how his mind expected the worst out of every situation. Still, he wasn’t comfortable with that conversation around strangers, so he tried to appear as calm as he could. Taking another look at her, he realized she seemed familiar. “Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked. Hearing how that sounded, he felt his heart skip several beats. “I’m not — you know, that’s not a line. You just seem familiar.” He already wished he hadn’t said anything instead, but he thought maybe a conversation could distract him from overthinking until the medicine became effective. He couldn’t admit to himself that there was more to the reasoning — such as being curious about this gorgeous woman.

[blackstarising]

ok i promised myself up and down i wouldn’t make posts like this anymore for my own mental health but i’ve been seeing a lot of, uh, takes in regards to the potential of sarah and bucky dating and a lot of confusion to why these takes are racist, insulting and hurtful, especially to black people. and for me? well, i won't lie, it's personal.

what non-black people need to understand is that positive portrayals of interracial romantic relationships between dark-skinned black women (yes, dark skinned) and non-black men are extremely uncommon in media. for example, can you think about any recent fictional portrayals of relationships of this kind? maybe rick and michonne from the walking dead? or abbie and ichabod from sleepy hollow? great, because those are the only two that i can think of off the top of my head.

okay, now how many of those relationships ended happily?

right.

as a next point, why do i highlight ‘dark-skinned’? because of colorism. you’ve probably seen that word thrown around a lot more in the past year. colorism is the discrimination within ethnic groups between those with lighter colored skin (and more eurocentric features and hair texture, i’m folding in featurism and texturism for ease) and those with darker skin.

the way this plays out in visual media is that it’s much more common to see lighter skinned black women in roles than darker skinned black women. when i was growing up, this was evident in both white-produced AND black-produced media. that’s so raven. sister sister. my wife and kids. the proud family, even. and to make it worse, it wasn’t uncommon for dark skinned black women in shows like these to be portrayed as unattractive, uncultured, or straight up bullies.

this isn’t me saying that we shouldn’t see light skinned or biracial black women in media. i want to emphasize that their life experiences and the pressures they have are different from mine. but i know that, because of colorism, i grew up thinking that the absence of Eurocentric features and a non Eurocentric body meant i was not beautiful and not worthy to be seen. and these truths can coexist. this is not an uncommon wound of colorism.

i say all this to say that for bucky barnes, a white man, to flirt with sarah wilson, a dark skinned black woman, is not the same as ‘just another het ship’. it is positive representation in its own right.

now, i’ve been in fandom for years. i’ve encountered this before. and i’ve encountered this enough to know that truthfully, these kind of ships make people truly uncomfortable and sometimes these people do a bad job of hiding it. what reason, i can’t say. if you ask me, i suspect part of the discomfort comes non-black people realizing they can’t project onto the black person in the ship in the same way they’re used to. i could be wrong. but i’ve been around enough to see a lot of pretzeling and back bending to discredit these sorts of relationships that don’t seem to come up for similar pairings if that same black woman was now white. and i’m seeing it again here, so i wanted to break down the most common takes i’ve either seen or i suspect i’ll see soon and break them down to explain why exactly you’ve been getting irritated replies and why they’re hurtful.

“bucky’s flirting with sarah to make sam jealous.” without thinking about it, this is actually a funny trope. sibling rivalry and all that. and you’re right, bucky doesn’t have to be attracted to sarah, and maybe you ship sambucky instead. but what if he can still find her attractive? this take subtly discredits the idea that bucky could find sarah attractive in her own right - there has to be some ulterior motive in order to explain it, yeah?

“bucky repeated sarah’s name like that because sarah was steve’s mom’s name.” we do know bucky knows steve’s mom’s name! but again, this feels like a lot of reaching to again, rework bucky’s potential attraction to sarah in a different context so it’s not actually genuine. in this case, he doesn’t like her, she just makes him think of his dead best friend’s mom, right?

“sarah’s so strong and badass, she doesn’t need a man! she deserves better.” okay. what does ‘deserving better’ actually mean? why can’t a potentially fulfilling relationship for sarah, a hardworking widow with two children, be deserving better? this also plays into the Strong Black Woman myth, in which black women are just So Strong and Self Sufficient and Powerful they don’t need anything! not even social aid! or protection! or love! or mental health support! let me be clear, this trope is not fun for us, it’s not a positive, it’s a burden that allows society to justify not protecting black women.

“this seems kind of forced/crowbarred in to me.” maybe, but also, in the episode, they really just said 'hi' to one another. now if sam had caught them making out on the boat two seconds after they met, that would have raised my eyebrows, but they just said 'hi'. some people are interpreting that as flirtatious - i'm one of them. but again, using words like 'crowbar' and 'force' or 'shove' make it seem like bucky's attraction to sarah is irrational.

now, here’s what i’m not saying. i’m not threatening you to ship bucky and sarah Or Else. you don't have to. i do. i think it’s fun! but that’s my choice. you don’t have to make that choice. you could be shipping someone else with either sarah or bucky and you don't want something to get in the way of that, i get it. i'm also not saying that sarah needs bucky's validation to be considered beautiful, far from it. what i’m saying is it’s worth it to evaluate the ways that implicit racism is affecting and influencing your responses to interracial relationships with black people, and especially black women in the media. because even if you might not see it, there are those of us who can. why can't the prospect of a white man flirting with a dark skinned black women be taken at face value? maybe sit with that.

sources for further reading the roots of colorism, or skin tone discrimination the walking dead's new power couple: 'richonne' and fandom racism fanlore breakdown of 'what shipping richonne taught me about racism' black women and the thin line between strong and angry post on black womanhood and feminism what is featurism? black hair and mental health: a tale of texturism fandom and the intersection of feminism and race "weak black women" by robin thede (for giggles) the take's 'the strong black woman, explained' (yet to watch but the take hasn't failed me yet)