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alyjojo · 22 days

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Love Reading 🎇 - April 2024 - Aries

Singles:

Who is Coming In: Page of Cups & 6 Pentacles rev

Regarding: 7 Cups

Long-Term Potential: The High Priestess

This one is a nope 👎 7 Cups could show you have several options, or you will. Either this person leaves you feeling confused, and never reciprocates what you’re giving them…emotionally, sexually, whatever you’re giving them - or they’re into you and you’re the one not feeling it, you don’t share the same feelings. Could be a water sign. There’s flirting, messages, attempts made to get together or go out, and the other party could ghost or just make it clear they don’t care, there is no effort made. You ultimately are making the decision to walk away from this, either because you know better is out there, and you deserve it - or you’ll meet someone else eventually that makes it clear this person is a waste of time. The Oracle says “love is coming”, but I don’t think this person currently around is the one, that’s what Spirit is trying to say 🙏 They’re not even trying, they’re just around, and the messages pretty much say it all.

Messages:

- I am DAMAGED 🤕

- I can’t stay.

CUPID’S ARROW 💘

- Have Faith

- Love is Coming

- Surprise Invitation

- Struck by Love

Signs you may be dealing with:

Taurus, Scorpio, Pisces & Cancer - heavy water 💦

Couples:

Them: Ace of Swords, 9 Swords, 3 Swords

Regarding: The Empress

There could be a baby in the mix of this, an outside baby even, because you two are separated and don’t even speak. Some could have children together, some have a meddling mother that’s an issue, you could’ve been married & divorced even. This won’t be for everyone but it’s what’s coming out so…this person shows up as a Twin Flame, or maybe just your polar opposite in every way. It’s not easy to get along with your opposite, though in some ways they balance you. Heavy air ☁️ energy dominates the whole reading, this person uses their head over their emotions, if the logic ain’t logic-ing then there’s no point in taking something further. What’s love? Messages show they don’t even know 🤷🏻‍♀️ Is it something you analyze your way though?

They are very communicative and truthful, they may have been the one to end the connection, setting clear boundaries and expectations for…growth, children, partnership, meddling family, gossip is being shown as an issue on your side, etc. They don’t want other people in your relationship, which is fair. I’m not seeing terrible cards to counter that idea, secrets and bs, just an Aries on the phone spouting everyone’s business and this person is like “absolutely not.” It stresses them out. It’s like you two have an issue, you run to Mom, tell her everything, and of course she’s going to stand by you because her little sugar muffin is offended by this person setting *reasonable* boundaries & expectations for their own life, relationship, whatever. They could’ve lost a mother, or have a difficult relationship with theirs or yours, maybe their mom doesn’t like you? Or switch it. It doesn’t matter what other people say when it’s about this person, it should matter how they feel, think, want, need, etc., if *they* are what you want. Yes? They have Justice on their side, if they didn’t then it wouldn’t be coming out in this way. In mutual energy they’ve definitely got some ish they’ve pulled too, it’s not all on you 🙏 Maybe they don’t want kids, or there is a lot of drama surrounding children, parents, other people. Or you could be the meddler, in their opinion, messing around with other people’s lives and in other people’s business - which affects them. Offering to watch other people’s kids? Or offering *them* to without asking, it’s something like that - meddling, gossip, miscommunication, what they would feel is a lack of respect and consideration for them. Bottom of the deck has 5 Pentacles, say it’s babysitting, it’s for free??, and they’re like NO, are you crazy? Or you just left them behind with no care or worries when - in their mind - they’re trying to be clear with you. They seem to feel like you spin the narrative to suit yourself and your own position on things, with the purpose of making them out to be some other way than they are. Making things confusing when they’re over here with swords like “who is confused?” Not them 💯

Messages:

- Follow My Lead

- I don’t know what love is.

TWIN FLAMES 🔥

- Yin/Yang & Balance

- Union & Duality

- Complement

- Polar Opposites

Let go of the helm of life, and let the current pull you in your chart’s direction.

You: The Magician, 6 Wands, Death

Regarding: The Hanged Man

12:34 on the clock for your part, one step at a time. To this person, they feel you are narcisstic af, because of the internet, the current age and their experience with you. Are you? I’m not getting that per se, you didn’t pull The Golden Mirror, you pulled Love Call, so what is Narcissism? It’s extremely emotionally immature, selfish behavior with zero regard for others, and an entitled way of viewing self vs. others - with self reigning supreme. And some really cruel mindfuckky behavior thrown in the mix. Aggressive victim complex in denial. If you felt any level of concern when reading that, you’re probably good. If you rolled your eyes, downplay terrible actions, or consider healthy relationships & behaviors as beneath you - maybe consider a professional 🤷🏻‍♀️ One of you could be. The rest are just ARIES, selfish and emotionally immature kinda go hand in hand with Aries. Y’all are the babies of the zodiac, it comes with the territory, especially if you’re >30. No offense, and not all of you 💯 If it’s not your story then it’s not, don’t force it. Feels more like a cross-watching narrative tbh, true Narcissists don’t read spiritual shit or self-reflect whatsoever.

King of Wands rev clarifies your energy…entitled, arrogant, player behavior, doing things for attention, being heavily trapped in ego, and The Lovers at the bottom. You feel like you’re winning when you’re really just being a dick/player? Or you involve others into your relationships so they can validate…the story *you* tell them, maybe keeping options open and actually playing the field because this King rev is also non committal. The Hanged Man shows a need for you to see their side, a different perspective, and The Hermit being what you’re both sharing shows you both need to take a serious look at yourselves, your behavior, this connection, and where to go from here. What did you do wrong? If you say nothing, try again. Both of you 🙏

Messages:

- Gossip too damn much.

- Irresponsible

LOVE CALL 📞

- Expressing Love

- Messages of Love

- Thinking of You

- Informing You

You may not always see it, but realize they out of all bad comes good. You just have to recognize that.

Mutual: The Hermit, The World, The Star

Regarding: 8 Swords

Clarified by The Fool, wow, every card being a major arcana definitely shows Twin Flame for someone. Meant to be - for anyone this applies to. If not Twin, definitely karmic, this person is meant to show you the way - either due to their influence or even losing them, and you’ve done the same for them. 8 Swords shows you don’t speak much if at all - or won’t, it also shows you both refuse to do the inner work necessary to really see each side’s accountability in your connection, you both just blame each other. The oracle shows that, you both think the other one is “dark”, narcissistic, it’s all their/your fault, both my way or the highway etc. Being alone brings this to a close, doing the inner healing and finding your own selves & paths again - The Star. Who are you and what do you want to be? What are you meant to do…or just like to do? What inner feeling is pushing you along, positively, and what towards? That’s The Star, the light in the darkness guiding you back to/along your path, this may have been this person, if before them you were somewhere totally different, and now you’re on the right path but without them, that’s a karmic. If a Twin, the separation triggers finding a new path in the first place, and it feels like devastation for one person - not the runner. You’re both stuck in old patterns, old belief systems, things that don’t suit you anymore. You’re both meant for different things on different paths and it’s only by separating will you find them. Twins may reunite someday, but never hold your breath, life changes people. Some of you just needed to be together to realize “hell no” about some things you now *know* are not good for you, and you’ll never allow yourselves to deal with that ish ever again. Both of you have new paths waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee, take a chance - The Fool.

OLD SCHOOL 📻

- Outdated Thinking

- Conditioning

- Replaying Event Over in Your Head

You can spot dark entities because they act like they’re never wrong and everything is about them. You don’t need them in your life!

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy air 🌬️ Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Virgo, Leo

#Aries #love reading #april 2024 #tarot reading #tarot #tarotblr #relationships #singles #couples

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bilyana-bang · 8 months

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Got rejected by the Vogue Open Casting. This is my last straw with Vogue and the modelling "industry". I swear all their articles are random gossiping about who's divorcing and why ( I can't tell you how unprofessional and trashy it is to comment on people's personal lives whilst acting like you are a high end magazine. ) or random blogs about chasing the next trend ( So you're telling me the Vogue community are trend and clout chasers, got it 👍🏻 ).

I could literally start a better magazine (@modemag) infact this was the last straw that pushed me into this idea of creating one that is more focused on actual beautiful models, great visuals and finding real supermodels ( no height, weight or face structure restrictions ). Unlike the current modelling "industry" of just using nepo babies, models that think having height and cheekbones make them enough to call themselves a supermodel, androgenous looking people and even ugly ones .... and daring to call them models. And they are shocked when the general public thinks models are dumb, when they themselves do not realise that what they do is unskilled labour. Oh and it makes SO much sense that there is no upper height restriction , so the 6'2 girls will be cast for a runway but the 5'4 girls won't be, when the average woman is 5'4. Once again, they don't realise how culturally irrelevant they are as an industry. Oh and they love to think that they are selling clothes on those Runway Girls, but all they are actually selling is Starvation, Infertility and Women who have Prepubescent Male Bodies. That is not what anyone normal stands for. Not only that ... but it is a very well known fact that no one would buy anything from those Runways, therefore it's a waste of time, because those Runways are so often, Creatives don't have enough time to think creatively, they just have to put anything out. And we can tell..... Therefore their version of this industry is OUT.

There is no reason an industry should be affecting peoples' personal lives this much. For example, this whole idea of having to be over 6'0 for a guy is insane to me. We don't get upset if we don't meet any other industry requirement, so why do we get upset if we don't meet the modelling one. No one in the general public cries if they are not a great poet, or a great mathematician, yet people cry if they aren't 6'0. The average heights for men are 5'7, 5'8, 5'9 and 5'10. These are the ideal standards of height for men. The most famous male sex symbol, the most famous masculine symbol ...

Marlon Brando. Guess how tall he was? 5'8.

You put him in a room with all the 6'2 men and guess who the women .. and men will flock to.... the 5'8 man.

Just like how 5'10 is abnormal for a girl to be, it's not normal for a guy to be 6'0. I propose that we introduce the idea of identifying as either Normal Heighted vs Not, instead of the silly idea of how many Feet and Inches you are as a guy, because the differences seem so large between them, when in reality we're taking about 5/10cm differences, which is the length of half your forefinger and the full length of your forefinger. That's too embarrassing to be comparing men based on such small differences. For this reason I think being regarded as Normal Height or Not is much simpler and easier.

Oh and I also love that the modelling "industry" uses people for a couple of years and bins them, and requires women to look like pre-pubescent boys by being underweight. I'm yet to see a model that has enough energy to talk, in those Vogue Model Videos on YouTube... Vogue's iconic for having bad covers, boring models with no personality and even repulsive personalities on their socials, terrible fashion styling, TERRIBLE photos with hilarious funky 2010s "posing" with bland facial expressions and clout chasing the current "celebrities" and actors ( that aren't even movie stars but think they are one 🤣🤣 ) to put on their cover like some social climber so they stay relevant, and write boring lonely woman blogs they like to disguise as "articles" .

Some of the recent blogs I've just come across on Vogue ...

" Looks like chipped nails are now trending."

" Why hydrating serums are the ultimate skincare."

" 5 trending hairstyles."

" I dry body brush everyday. "

" What are the best colognes for men. "

.....crickets...... this sounds like if AI had to come up with generic article titles 🤣 I love the enthusiam Vogue editors have about "Unconventional Weddings in the Belgian Countryside" and "4 alternatives to Aperol Spritz" but they're not the central cultural megahouse they think they are. Infact, I urge people to go on Vogue.com, and go on the left hand menu and click on all the topics and look at the titles of all the articles and pretend these aren't written for Vogue. Instantly you'll notice how much of a niche magazine this actually is. You might as well be reading an unknown magazine that can't get its feet on the ground, with 3 readers.

And then it dawns on you... Vogue really is the high-end-escort sister of TMZ. Somehow got themselves next to all the rich people, no substance and conversation or actual credibility of being next to them, constantly chasing where the next rich client will come from. At least TMZ knows it's trashy 🤣 but the high end escort disguises its trashiness well... by wearing expensive clothes, surrounding themselves with the rich and famous and using a fancy font.

Never in my life have I thought Vogue was worth buying nor culturally relevant, the name itself is so terribly cheap and dated.... and the craziest and most embarrassing part of it all. The most powerful person in the fashion industry, can't dress. Big, thick & ugly dark sunglasses 🕶 with every outfit, wearing them inside and whilst talking to people.... Groundbreaking.

I like Anna Wintour as a business person... but what does she know about fashion? 🤣

Huge unflatteringly-colour-combined necklaces that look like cheap plastic that always mismatch the print of the clothes. I can't. Guys. I can't. This can't be the person representing fashion.

Why is this BTEC production of a magazine acting all mighty? Vogue is a monthly magazine of articles that have the same value of TikToks you scroll past and models you wouldn't turn twice to look at.

I know a sinking ship when I see one.

It's time for you to go . . .

#VoguesGoneRogue #VogueIsOut

#vogue is out #vogues gone rogue #models arent pretty

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your-dietician · 2 years

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Actress Angela Lansbury, star of 'Murder, She Wrote' and 'Beauty and the Beast,' dies at 96

New Post has been published on https://medianwire.com/actress-angela-lansbury-star-of-murder-she-wrote-and-beauty-and-the-beast-dies-at-96/

Actress Angela Lansbury, star of 'Murder, She Wrote' and 'Beauty and the Beast,' dies at 96

British actress Angela Lansbury, whose career spanned seven decades and earned her an honorary Academy Award, has died.

Lansbury died Tuesday, according to her family. She was 96 years old.

“The children of Dame Angela Lansbury are sad to announce that their mother died peacefully in her sleep at home in Los Angeles at 1:30 AM today, Tuesday, October 11, 2022, just five days shy of her 97th birthday,” the family said in a statement.

Lansbury, born in 1925, was the daughter of Irish actress Moyna Macgill and British politician Edgar Lansbury. Her paternal grandfather was George Lansbury, a founder of the United Kingdom’s Labour Party.

At age 9, Lansbury’s father died — a moment that she’s said in interviews shaped her life. The actress’ family then fled the U.K. in 1940 during World War II, moving to the United States where she began her acting career.

After signing to MGM in 1942, Lansbury’s first acting gig was “Gaslight” in 1944, a role that earned her an Oscar nomination. The actress went on to earn two other Oscar nods for roles in “The Picture of Dorian Gray” in 1945 and “The Manchurian Candidate” in 1962. Lansbury eventually was awarded an honorary trophy in 2013.

FILE – Angela Lansbury attends a photocall during the PBS Television Critics Association Winter Press Tour on Jan. 16, 2018, in Pasadena, Calif.

Richard Shotwell/Invision/AP, FILE

Lansbury is best known for her role as mystery writer Jessica Fletcher in the popular TV series “Murder, She Wrote.” Four years into the series, which started in 1984, Lansbury’s Corymore Productions began to co-produce the series with Universal. Lansbury owned the series and became its executive producer during the show’s last four seasons. The show ended its run in 1996 after 12 seasons on TV.

Thanks to roles on both sides of the pond, Lansbury went on to amass five Tony Awards, as well as a lifetime achievement award earlier this year, and six Golden Globes. She was also nominated 18 times for Emmy Awards. including 10 times for lead actress for “Murder, She Wrote.” In 2014, she was made a dame by Queen Elizabeth II.

Lansbury married her husband, the late British actor Peter Shaw, in 1949. The couple had two children.

The actress opened up about her marriage to The Telegraph in 2012.

“We were a unit. We didn’t shut out the world but we were almost too self-contained,” she told the outlet. “He totally controlled my career as time went by and made it possible for me to do what I did — we managed it somehow, someway.”

The two were married until he died in 2003, but it wasn’t Lansbury’s first marriage. In 1945, Lansbury married actor Richard Cromwell at age 19. The marriage ended months later and the actress filed for divorce on Sept. 11, 1946.

Angela Lansbury receives the Volta Award at the Audi Dublin Film Festival in the Bord Gais Energy Theatre, Feb. 21, 2016, in Dublin.

Phillip Massey/Getty Images

Lansbury told The Telegraph that after the marriage dissolved, she was informed that Cromwell was gay.

“It was a terrible shock. I was devastated,” she said of learning her ex-husband was gay. “But once I got over the shock, I said, ‘All right then, I’m going to take charge of my life and see that I never hurt like this again.'”

Still, Lansbury and Cromwell remained friendly until his death in 1960.

Following her hit TV series, Lansbury made many appearances in films, such as voicing Mrs. Potts in the 1991 animated film “Beauty and the Beast.” The role earned her a Grammy nomination as part of the soundtrack for the film and a legion of young fans for decades.

She also appeared in the 2005 film “Nanny McPhee” and the 2011 film “Mr. Popper’s Penguins.” She also had small roles in the animated film “The Grinch” and “Mary Poppins Returns,” both in 2018.

Lansbury returned to Broadway in 2007 after a 23-year hiatus by starring in “Deuce.”

She even returned to television, starring in a season six episode of “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.” Her appearance earned her an Emmy Award nomination in 2005. She also appeared in the BBC and Masterpiece Theatre miniseries “Little Women” in 2018.

Lansbury is survived by her children Anthony and Deirdre, along with three grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Read full article here

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the-empress-7 · 2 years

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Hi Empress! Eclipse anon here.

Hope you are well. It's the solar eclipse. Woohoo! A few months back I thought this was going to be doozy, but the energies seem nice and warm IRL. I'd shared that I was looking forward to this one because of how life changing the peclupses past couple years have been for me. So far, it's all ok.

I mean... I just finally filed for divorce. But it's ok. I also managed to be cool as an ice cube throughout the day in court, even though I was finally seeing my husband after 2 yr (ex? Should I call him that already? ). I got my day in court and it was glorious. Lol. My therapist says we should unpack that over the next few sessions, that was a bit of a party pooper tbh. But we are gonna get through it.

Oh and I bought a fishery! I guess I'm a farmer now. (Or is that a fisherman? Fisher woman? What's the PC term? Enterpreneur?). I used to be so freaked out by tiny fish earlier. But now I'm so proud of the brood. Eventually they will all end up on someone's plate, but still, im a proud mama.

Oh and I got myself a new car. It's a beast. I love it. I talk to my cars Alexa lady sometimes, just so I don't feel lonely. It's terribly sad but also fun.

Anyhoo... Neptune and Jupiter are still making magic in the sky. Pluto is going retro. Mercury is being sneaky, dancing the shadow dance. Mars looks grumpy. Saturn is actually being nice, let's see how long that lasts. The eclipse is unpacking a lot of the early 2020 energies. Uranus promised it would bring in some unexpected miracles, so I'm holding him to that promise. How are things your end?

- eclipse anon

Hi Eclipse Anon, look at you go! Your positivity is contagious and so is your resilience 💪🏽 And wow, you own a fishery now! Fun fact about me...many eons ago I used to live right next to one, so talk about a funny coincidence.

This eclipse has been an interesting one so far, not bad, just intensely busy with changes happening at light speed. I think the real drama is yet to come, the build up from tomorrow to the full moon eclipse will be wild.

Cheers to your new beginning 🥂💞

#eclipse anon

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kyotarou · 3 years

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title: a little more noise

pairing: kyōtani kentarō x gn!reader

synopsis: in a world of constant silence, he’s the noise you need in life, even if he’s a bit quiet.

warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, lotta tropes and cliches, two swear words if i counted correctly

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: i wrote this in two days which i’m very proud of, go me! always wanted to write a kyōken fic and here it is. kinda scared to post this bc he’s quite tough to characterize imo and i’m terrible at writing longer pieces. oh well :,) no indentation because that’d be such a pain. hope you like it, feedback is always appreciated! (this is also my first time writing slowburn so please lmk if it’s still too fast)

Your parents were not bad people—that was a fact. They were kind, and you did everything an ordinary family would; eat dinner together, go on trips, attend school events. Things were quiet, a little too quiet for comfort. It never felt… right. You heard stories of parents arguing, nasty divorces, and custody battles. They tore your friends apart, made them feel a pain you could never understand. You knew how terrible it was, yet sometimes you wished you went through that to fill the silence in your home. The same monotonous, “good mornings,” and “hellos,” became sickening to hear. You told yourself to push on until after graduation where you’d escape. As the years dragged on, you weren’t so sure you could keep your sanity intact.

It was how you met Kyōtani Kentarō, a second-year from your school who was in a different class. Your friend told you of a gym nearby that was secluded at night. With a sly grin, he said he met up with students from other schools to smoke, and sometimes as a hookup spot. You wrinkled your nose at his comment and flicked his forehead. These were the people you hung out with; not so bright, but easygoing and fun. They were the ones who satisfied the need for noise, the bit of excitement in your life.

You snuck out after your parents had gone to bed. It didn’t hit until halfway through your walk that several things could happen. You were alone with nothing to defend yourself with except your phone and bare hands. Looking down at your outfit, an old dark hoodie and some sweats, you hoped it was ominous enough to ward people away. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to go home and wallow in its emptiness.

To see the lights on in the gym was a surprise. Upon closer inspection, you heard the squeaking of shoes and the cannon-like sounds of balls slamming the floor. You peeked your head through the door. The only person inside was a boy, no older than you. The first thing you noticed was his oddly dyed hair which resembled a tennis ball. The second was his piercing gaze as he turned his head and stared at you. You jumped. He looked as though he was going to charge at you. Instead, the boy huffed, walked to the other side of the gym, and picked up the ball. You spotted a familiar white and blue jacket on the ground.

“Seijoh?”

The boy turned to you again. “Yeah.” His voice was low, but powerful enough to rumble the earth.

You swallowed. “I go there, too.” This was a waste of time, you thought. You should’ve gone home, and you almost did until he spoke again.

“Never seen you before.”

The ball flew into the air with the boy tailing it. His body bent in a way you didn’t think was possible, face pinched in concentration. It hit his hand then the ground with the loudest smacks you had ever heard. It was incredible, but also scary. He picked up another ball behind him and did the same, and again, and again, until his side was empty and yours was strewn with several blue and yellow volleyballs. The more you watched, the more mesmerized you became.

“Can I stay?” You felt stupid for asking, but if he was trying to concentrate, you didn’t want to disturb him. Surprisingly, he nodded. You sank to the floor with your knees to your chest and listened to the constant thwacks and smacks all night.

You only learned his name a little while after. It was by accident. You were walking by a group of boys at school when one of them called him Mad Dog-chan, and you bit your lip to stop your laughter. Luckily, they didn’t notice. It was kind of cute the more you thought about it. It fit his appearance quite well, too. That night, you found him at the gym once again. Instead of a curt nod, you waved.

“Hey, Mad Dog-chan!”

You immediately regretted your words when he stopped bouncing the ball and flashed you a murderous look. You muttered a hurried apology and sat on the floor in your usual spot. He whacked a ball a couple of times then came over to grab his water bottle. After a few quick gulps, you expected him to get back on the court, but he stared at the spot beside you.

“It’s Kyōtani. Kyōtani Kentarō.”

Some nights, he didn’t practice. You sat in a playground nearby with soda and snacks from home. Originally, they were meant to replenish his energy when he overworked himself. Now, you were the one eating most of them, with Kyōtani nibbling on a custard bun as you wolfed down chip bag after chip bag. One thing you could say with confidence was Kyōtani was a great listener. At first, you sat in awkward silence. Then, you started rattling off all the things you did that day. It led to you talking about anything and everything, including the funny-looking dog you saw on the street last week. You hoped he didn’t think he reminded you of it.

Talking to Kyōtani was equivalent to talking to a wall. If anything, you were talking at him. He barely looked your way, and if you asked a question, he responded with a grunt or a simple, “Yeah.” Even though you wished it was two-sided, it felt good. You could finally break the silence that shrouded you for years, something you yearned to do but never had the confidence to. With Kyōtani, because of how quiet he was, you felt you could say anything without judgment. You did this for a while, rambling to him in the playground while he sat and listened.

Together, you sat on the swings with fruit sandwiches you made earlier that day. Your feet dragged against the sand and dirt as you swung back and forth. It seemed like Kyōtani enjoyed it. You noticed him eyeing your sandwich while licking his lips. You laughed and handed the rest to him. You started your daily tangent; woke up, ate a meat bun for breakfast, went to school, did homework, then came here. Somewhere along the way, you mentioned how you were home alone since your parents had lots of meetings to attend. You wished it was a little more lively. It was why you left the house every night, to find some noise in the suffocating void of it all.

You talked some more about your family, which you never did. You were too distracted to see Kyōtani’s head perk up. He stopped munching on the fruit sandwich and leaned forward, trying to look at your face. You continued to ramble, feeling your irritation slowly rise.

“Am I a bad person? I mean, they’re really nice, and I adore them. But it’s unbearable sometimes, and then I end up feeling like an asshole.”

You let out a dry laugh, ignoring the pain of the metal chains holding up the swing as they dug into your palms. You pressed your lips together in a thin line, unsure of what to say next. You chose to draw circles in the sand with the tip of your shoe.

“I understand how you feel.”

You looked at Kyōtani in surprise. You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. The night felt a little brighter.

The last thing your “friends” expected was for you to ditch them for him. “Looks like a tennis ball,” one of them said. You chuckled since it was your exact thought when you first met him. You were relieved but also disheartened when they didn’t seem to mind too much. At least you knew where they stood.

Hanging out with Kyōtani was much different compared to your nights at the gym or the playground. You got lots of stares from the third-years who never thought he could behave like this. Some people in your class whispered about the two lone-wolves banding together. You pretended not to hear.

“You’ve been cheery lately.”

You stared at your mother, trying to process her words. They never asked about you, which you grew to appreciate. It meant not having to force out a conversation. You almost brushed it aside until she spoke again. Your chin rested in your palm as you picked the vegetables on your plate, stomach full with snacks.

“I met a new friend.”

Your mother raised her brows, impressed. “Oh? Tell me about him.”

“How do you know he’s a boy?”

“Just a hunch.”

You sighed, continuing to stir your food. “He’s quiet. A little weird, but he’s nice. I can talk to him about anything.”

“That’s good.”

Your father glanced at her, and she shot him a strange look. Don’t, it said. He backed off and ate as if nothing happened.

You managed to weave yourself with the other boys from the volleyball team. They were a scary bunch at first, most of them glaring at Kyōtani the moment he walked through the door, but they were nice to you. He had left his jacket at the playground one night, and you made a mental note to return it to him the next day. Except, like Kyōtani, you also forgot about it. When you saw the boys flood to the gym for practice, you raced home then back to school and shyly followed a group of girls to the gym who were there to gawk at the captain.

During their break, you nervously approached Kyōtani and poked his shoulder. They watched you return his jacket but didn’t expect his, “Thank you,” afterward. When you left, Oikawa bugged him to invite you back. Kyōtani shrugged. He usually ignored him at all costs. Oikawa took it as a good sign.

Hanging out with them was a lot more fun than you anticipated. They were better than your previous friends, and even though most of them didn’t like Kyōtani, they seemed to be warming up. Your favorite moment was the movie night at Oikawa’s house. The living room was packed, with little room to wiggle, but it was comfortable. That night, you laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and the tensions between you, Kyōtani, and the rest of the boys dissolved. You belonged here.

Yahaba caught him staring at you outside your classroom. You sat across from another classmate, helping her with a few assignments for her art class. You posed and let her take pictures. Some were silly, but the others captured your features perfectly. In one of them, you rested your cheek in your palm with the tip of your pencil wedged between your teeth. You looked at the camera through your lashes as your classmate continued to snap more shots.

“Cool it.” Yahaba clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Never said you were.”

You helped your classmate pack her things. While you followed her out the door, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. You bid her goodbye as her friends called her over, then turned to Kyōtani and Yahaba.

“Ready to go?”

Yahaba nodded, as did Kyōtani. You walked ahead of them, listing off that day’s menu. Behind you, Kyōtani’s eyes zeroed in on your moving form, the shift of your hips as you took each step. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was honing in on a kill. Yahaba prodded his arm.

“Don’t be a pervert.”

You swore you heard a slap.

Friday after school, your parents were home from work much earlier than anticipated. A game show played on the television. They barely noticed your arrival until you called out. The TV turned off, and your mother looked over the back of the sofa with a wry smile. Your father drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. His eyes stayed glued to the empty screen.

“Welcome back,” your mother greeted. She glanced at the boxes in the kitchen, filled with old plates and cutlery you hadn’t touched in a while. You assumed they were throwing them out.

“So…” she drawled. “What do you think of Tokyo?”

“Tokyo?”

Your hands shook as you set your school bag down on the kitchen table. The boxes made more sense. You remembered your father talking about a school his friend’s son attended. Nekoma, was it? He told you how great it was there, that it’d be easy to make friends in such a populated area.

“Tokyo…” you repeated. A heavy lump formed in your throat. “It seems… nice. Why do you ask?” You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice. Your mother caught on too.

“Dad’s company moved areas. It’s a big shift, but it’s too good to lose. So-”

“We’re moving.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were about to.”

Your head hung over the table. There was a crushing weight in your chest. Of course they wouldn’t tell you. They never did. It was too much to not expect this betrayal. If you told them how happy you were at Seijoh, maybe things would’ve been different. I could’ve prevented this. You shook your head. You couldn’t stop an entire company from moving, nor could you convince your father to find a new job in Miyagi. You had to follow them like you always did.

“If we can stay, we will, but most likely-”

“I’ll start packing.”

You grabbed your school bag and stomped to your room, vision obscured by your tears. Why now? Why did it have to be when you were starting to fit in, when you found real friends who made you happier than ever? Just when things looked like they were turning around, you were back at square one. You’d be there for a while, stuck in a new city far away from Seijoh. If you were with your old group, you wouldn’t have been this upset. But to not see them again—Yahaba, Hanamaki, even Oikawa.

You opened your phone and stared at the lock screen: a picture of you and Kentarō from the movie night at Oikawa’s. His arm was slung over your shoulder, a scowl on his face, but the peace sign he held up made it worth it. You remembered taking it and everyone gasping that Kentarō would even allow anyone to take a picture of him, let alone save it. Your heart fluttered. When did he stop being Kyōtani and become Kentarō?

Kentarō faced the empty playground. He sat in the right swing as he always did, scanning the area for any sign of you. In his hand was his attempt at a fruit sandwich, messily covered in cellophane with whipped cream oozing between the bread. A bandaid wrapped the tip of his finger where he accidentally cut himself. Damn those strawberries.

Kentarō kicked at the dirt. He waited, and waited some more, but after twenty minutes, you didn’t show. He pulled out his phone and sent you a quick text. Your absence made his skin crawl. His phone lit up with a response. Sorry, was all you said.

He couldn’t shake the heaviness as he trudged home.

The view outside the window gave you an excuse to be distracted. The voices of the boys were loud, but you chose to focus on the birds circling the courtyard. Two of them swooped down and landed on the thick branch of an old tree. They ruffled their feathers and nuzzled their beaks. You saw your old friends walk out of the main building. The one who introduced you to the gym glanced up. His eyes met yours momentarily. He went back to talking to someone you didn’t recognize and led them to the other side of the campus.

You stared out the window until Mattsun shook your shoulder. You turned and put on a faux smile. Your classwork was still strewn across your desk even though it was lunch. A few drops of chili sauce had landed on your math homework. You scowled at Hanamaki, his face stuffed with food.

“Oops.”

You wiped it off with an eye roll then stuffed it into your bag along with your other notebooks.

“What’s buggin’ ya?” Mattsun asked.

You shrugged. “Nothing. I’m ready for the day to end.” It was the last thing you wanted. There was a bit of time before you left for Tokyo, but the countdown moved fast. You ignored Mattsun’s opposing look and ate. They couldn’t know yet.

Kentarō knew there was more than what met the eye, but he bit his tongue. He was paranoid, he told himself. The guilty look on your face as the boys laughed, unaware of the shift in attitude, said otherwise. He threw his arm over the back of your chair. You relaxed, but the sad look remained. Remembering the fruit sandwich he made, Kentarō grabbed it from his bag and slid it across your desk. You raised your brows.

“What’s this?”

“I made it.”

You unwrapped the sticky mess of whipped cream and strawberry jam. Kentarō watched you take a small bite, followed by a bigger one.

“This is delicious!”

He showed you the tip of his finger. “The price I paid for it.”

Your knees knocked against his under your desk. He flinched. You pressed your finger to your lips, then to the bandaid. “Thank you. Hope it feels better.”

Your cheeks swelled as you took more bites than you could chew. Pink syrup stuck to the corner of your mouth. Cute, Kentarō thought.

“What was that?” you mumbled. A crumb lodged itself in your throat. Mattsun rushed over and slapped you so hard on the back it echoed. A handful of other students looked over. Hanamaki scolded you for gulping down your bottle of water without taking any breaths. Kentarō cheeks turned a darker shade than the strawberries when you gripped his arm for support. You didn’t ask again.

“Cute,” he whispered anyway. He knew you wouldn’t hear over Mattsun’s teasing. “You’re cute.”

Kentarō invited you to the movies. He planned on having it at home, but his parents occupied the TV, and his laptop was too small to enjoy anything. He met you at a plaza a walking distance’s away. He let you pick the movie, curious about your tastes. Action? Romcom? When he looked at his ticket, it was for the latest horror movie. Critics raved about it, calling it the best of the decade. Impressive.

The movie started a while ago. The critics were right, it was scary, a lot scarier than he expected. You enjoyed it like a comedy movie, clapping your hand over your mouth when the entire theater shrieked at the killer, including Kentarō.

“You’re a sadist,” he whispered.

“Am not, just think it’s funny.”

He shook his head. Another jumpscare happened, this time worse than before. Several people jolted in their seats and bits of popcorn flew into the air. Kentarō didn’t realize he had sank into his seat—your seat, actually—until you nudged his foot with yours.

“Scared?” Your breath was warm against his ear.

“Sorry.”

You patted his hand which clutched the armrest with a vice grip. Kentarō’s heart beat faster.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m right here.”

The movie ended and the lights switched on. People left the theater with wobbly legs and pale faces. You headed to the exit holding your empty cups and popcorn bags with Kentarō in tow. He wished the movie was longer. Not because he enjoyed it, but because the smile on your face made it worth it.

Your room was bare besides your bed and desk. Most of your stuff was packed neatly in the many cardboard boxes piled inside your now empty closet. It’d been a few weeks since that Friday, and you still hadn’t told Kentarō or any of the boys. You weren’t sure how to break the news. He noticed how clingy you became, tailing him wherever he went at school. Not that he minded. You talked less at the playground. It was him who filled the silence instead, though his daily recaps weren’t as interesting as yours.

Next week was the last with Kentarō. In your shaky hands was an envelope, the edges indented from how hard you gripped it. You took out the letter inside, read it over, then slipped it back in. You thought about sealing it for the umpteenth time that day. Before your tongue swiped against the flap, you quickly scanned over the letter once more as if the words would disappear. You’d seal it later, you told yourself.

Your over-the-top cheeriness was so evident it was painful. They asked what was up, and you said you were simply having a good day. Kentarō knew better than that. At lunch, when you were away from everyone else, he prodded your shoulder and asked what was wrong. You frowned at him, then smiled.

“Everything's fine.”

Before he could probe further, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the cafeteria.

“There’s chicken! It’s your favorite, right?”

Something slipped out of your pocket. Kentarō thought it was your school notes. He bent down to pick it up and saw it was a white envelope, unsealed. You were already gone, dragged away by his teammates. He didn’t want to pry, but curiosity got the best of him. Turning the other direction, he grabbed the note inside. His name at the top caught his eye.

Dear Kyōken-chan,

He snorted.

Sorry for not telling you this sooner. I’m still trying to process this too.

A crease formed on his forehead as he squinted. The letter was quite long, the handwriting messy. He repeated the phrases in his head over and over, but he couldn’t fully understand what they meant. He flipped it to the back and sighed when there was more. He decided to scan it this time, except a handful of words made him reread it in depth.

“Kentarō!” In your arms were several wrapped buns from the cafeteria. He tried to stuff the note into his pocket, but you already saw.

“Oh.” The buns fell to the ground. “Oh no.”

Kentarō’s face was a mix of frustration and hurt. The hand holding the letter shook, the other balled in a fist. You wanted to run, but if you moved, you swore you’d collapse.

“(Y/N),” he murmured. “What is this?”

A weary laugh escaped your lips. “Um. Can we go somewhere else?”

Not waiting for an answer, you grabbed his wrist and led him to the school’s courtyard.

“One week,” he huffed.

“One week.”

You sat beneath a large, shady tree in the farthest corner away from the main building. Kentarō rubbed his temple and sighed. He held onto your letter. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“For how long?”

“Probably forever. Not literally, but it’ll feel like it.”

“So you’re graduating from Nekoma?”

You nodded. Kentarō tapped his knuckles against his cheek.

“Wished you told me sooner.”

You blinked at him wearily. “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head then turned away. You grew quiet for a moment. He took it as his chance to butt in.

“So, you like me?”

“It’s all in the letter.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

You looked away. Your hands were clammy, and the air felt ten times hotter. The word you used was stronger, much stronger than he anticipated. It made his cheeks burn and a smile threatened to pull at his lips. He wanted to hear it come to life.

“I love you, Kentarō.”

It sounded sweet, almost tooth-rotting sweet. Kentarō chewed the inside of his cheek. He liked you, he really did. He just wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to say it. Would there be a right moment? After this week, you’d be in Tokyo in another school—a rival school, to make matters worse. He wanted his words to hold weight, and in that moment, they didn’t. Not as much as he wished.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand.”

“I do.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the bell cut you off. Kentarō hoisted himself from the ground then held his hand out. His palm was rough under yours, but his touch was gentle. Once you got to your feet, you let go, but he kept his pinky locked with yours.

Friday arrived quickly. Sadness filled the air as you said your goodbyes, thanking your classmates and teachers for the short, but pleasant year. After school, the team led you to the gym with your eyes covered. The boys’ gym was decorated with a banner and a table with food. There was even a cake, the word Seijoh iced and crossed out on top. You let out a hearty laugh before inviting the boys to dig in.

“Of course,” said Oikawa. “I paid for it.”

On one side, Mattsun smeared frosting over Hanamaki’s cheek. On the other, Oikawa tried to spoon-feed Iwaizumi only to be smacked on the head. You sat on the floor next to Kentarō and looked around with a big smile. His thumb reached out to wipe a dollop of frosting from the corner of your mouth. The phrase, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” held up its end of the bargain. When you looked outside, the sun had begun to set.

You thanked your friends, took one last photo, and managed to hold in your tears until your walk home. You promised to visit and to cheer them on at nationals, even if you were on Nekoma’s side. They laughed, waved with sad smiles, then watched you leave.

Kentarō caught up with you a third of the way home. His hand slipped into yours, a habit he recently picked up. It wouldn’t last much longer. You stopped a few houses down from yours. You didn’t want to let go, not yet.

You learned many things this year. One, life wasn’t fair. It never was. Two, people weren’t as shitty as you thought, proven in your new friendships. Three, seeing Kentarō cry made your heart ache in a way you never wanted to feel again. His head fell against your shoulder with a hard thump, tears soaking through the uniform you’d wear for the last time. You rubbed his back and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

“Stay,” he pleaded.

“I wish I could.”

“Please don’t go.”

“I have to.”

Kentarō looked up through his watery lashes. Your lips connected. Who initiated it was a mystery. His kiss was slow but fervent. You leaned in, deepening it until you swore your teeth clashed. Kentarō’s hands rested on your hips, yours on the nape of his neck. His kisses were magnetizing, drawing you closer with each movement. You broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together. He still had tears in his eyes, and so did you. You stayed like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms until you knew you had to let go.

“Call me everyday, please,” he whispered.

“I promise. I swear on my life.”

You kissed him again.

“Goodbye, Kentarō. I love you.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N). I’ll be waiting.”

“So will I.”

Kentarō didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You knew he loved you, proven by his daily text messages and calls thereafter. Even if it only lasted a couple of seconds, you never missed a day. Sometimes, you heard his teammates' voices in the background. The audio would become crackly before a new voice replaced your boyfriend’s: Mattsun, Yahaba, Oikawa, and even Iwaizumi.

Boyfriend. The fact made your stomach fill with butterflies. Kentarō was yours, and you were his.

It’d been months since you last saw him in person. You finished your second-year at Nekoma, a school that welcomed you with open arms. You met lots of people, found new friends, but the boys from Seijoh never left your mind. The picture you took hung on the wall of your new bedroom, a space you were still getting used to. Summer vacation was here, and you promised to come home to Miyagi for a week or two. On the train, you checked your phone to see how many kilometers were left. Just a few more minutes.

When it came to a halt, you burst from your seat, duffle bag in tow. You sent Kentarō a text, only to be face-to-face with him the moment the doors opened. You leapt into his arms, knocking him back a few steps. His chin rested on your shoulder as you hugged, swaying side to side.

“I missed you so much, Ken.”

“Missed you, too.”

Your fingers clasped around his, resting perfectly in the dips between his knuckles. Hopefully, he hadn’t dropped his habit. The months you were apart flew by, but they were also the longest you had ever witnessed. Seeing Kentarō for the first time in a while felt like a breath of cool, fresh air.

You tugged on his wrist, ready to head to town. He stayed put.

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

He grinned shyly at you. Kentarō brought color into your dull life, your source of noise in the thick silence. The summer wouldn’t forever, and you had another year left to endure. But as long as he was there, even kilometers away, you’d get through it together.

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deadpresidents · 3 years

Text

Unfinished: April 12, 1945

As March 1945 drew to a close, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was exhausted. At the beginning of February, Roosevelt had attended the Yalta Conference with Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin -- a meeting which required the American President to undertake a physically punishing and extraordinarily dangerous trip halfway around the world to the Crimean Peninsula in the middle of a raging world war. At Yalta, Roosevelt’s appearance had shocked the foreign leaders and their aides. In his last face-to-face meeting with Churchill, on February 18, 1945, FDR was seen as a dead man walking. Churchill’s personal doctor, Lord Moran, told a friend that Roosevelt had “only a few months to live”.

Being President of the United States for just one term is taxing enough on a young man or a healthy man. Franklin Delano Roosevelt had been President for twelve years. He had campaigned for the Presidency and been victorious in four national elections. His Administration faced one of the greatest domestic crises in American History -- the Great Depression -- and the greatest crisis and bloodiest conflict in world history -- World War II. FDR had attacked these problems (and other issues that arose during his terms) with energy, creativity, and a relentless pursuit of victory.

A healthy and athletic man who stood nearly 6′2″ and weighed about 200 lbs. as Assistant Secretary of the Navy under Woodrow Wilson, Franklin Roosevelt had been stricken by polio in 1921. The disease robbed him of his ability to walk and, at the time, looked as if it had robbed him of a political future. He rebounded politically but physically he was never the same. Confined to a wheelchair, the muscles in his legs withered like the branches of a tree in winter. Although he could not walk under his own power, FDR taught himself to stand while wearing heavy steel braces around his shins. He needed the assistance of a muscular partner -- sometimes one of his sons, sometimes a military aide -- in order to feign the appearance of walking. Through sheer will, however, Roosevelt learned to take a few steps without anyone’s help -- a handy skill that he would show off at important campaign rallies. But as he began his unprecedented fourth term in the White House in the early months of 1945, FDR no longer had the energy to show off.

Roosevelt was as gravely ill as Lord Moran suggested. The successful 1944 Presidential campaign had severely drained his already tapped-out reservoirs of energy and stamina. His fourth inauguration was low-key, partly because it took place in the midst of war and partly due to the President’s failing health. Instead of the traditional inaugural ceremonies at the U.S. Capitol, Roosevelt took the Oath of Office at the White House and gave his brief fourth Inaugural Address from a balcony at the Executive Mansion. The famously verbose Roosevelt gave the second-shortest Inaugural Address in American History. By the time the crowd realized that he was talking he had already finished. Only George Washington’s four-sentence-long second Inaugural Address in 1793 was shorter than the address given by FDR on January 20, 1945.

FDR now looked entirely different than the man who had told the nation that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” in 1933. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, which seemed sunken into his skull. Since his first Inauguration, Roosevelt had lost 40-50 pounds. His hands shook so violently at times that some observers wondered how he was able to eat. He smoked constantly, but rarely finished his cigarettes. Most shocking of all, FDR no longer went to great lengths to conceal his disability. Frail and tired, he found it almost impossible to wear the heavy braces that he long wore on his crippled legs. On March 1, 1945, Roosevelt addressed a joint session of Congress on the results of his Yalta Conference with Churchill and Stalin. In an unprecedented move, the President sat in a chair on the floor of the House of Representatives and apologized to Congress, beginning his speech by saying, “I hope that you will pardon me for this unusual posture of sitting down during the presentation of what I want to say, but I know that you will realize it makes it a lot easier for me not to have to carry about ten pounds of steel around on the bottom of my legs.” It was the first time that President Roosevelt had ever publicly acknowledged his physical disability.

Twelve years of the Presidency, economic depression and war had strained Roosevelt’s health, but the 14,000-mile trip to the Yalta Conference on the Black Sea had pushed FDR to the limit. On March 30, 1945, Roosevelt arrived in Warm Springs, Georgia for a few weeks of relaxation and, hopefully, recuperation. Roosevelt loved Warm Springs. He had started visiting the small town in western Georgia in the 1920s, hoping that the warm waters from the natural mineral springs nearby would help him regain the use of his legs. When he was Governor of New York, FDR purchased a small house that he used when he visited Warm Springs. As President, the home was called the “Little White House” and although FDR only visited it sixteen times during his Presidency, many of those trips were for 2-3 weeks each. When his train pulled into Warm Springs at about 1:30 PM on March 30, 1945, many longtime residents said that things seemed different. Roosevelt looked terrible and while he waved to onlookers, it was with noticeable weakness.

The first few days in Georgia were tough. FDR was obviously ill and seemed to struggle making it through a church service on Easter Sunday. Roosevelt also avoided his beloved Warm Springs pools. Instead, the President rested, caught up on sleep, and visited with guests. The goal was for FDR to regain enough of his health to make a trip to San Francisco for the charter meeting of what would become the United Nations. At the Little White House with Roosevelt were some personal aides, military attaches, and cousins Daisy Suckley and Polly Delano. During his first week at Warm Springs, Roosevelt did very little work, dictating a few letters and reading briefings, stronger and more animated in the mornings and evenings but completely drained in the afternoon. Another goal for Roosevelt was to gain weight -- by the time he left Warm Springs, he hoped to be up to 170 lbs.

Still, there was no noticeable improvement in FDR’s health or spirits. Then, on April 9th, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd arrived. As President Wilson’s Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Franklin D. Roosevelt had become involved in a passionate love affair with his wife’s social secretary, Lucy Mercer. It was 1918 when Eleanor Roosevelt discovered the affair between Franklin and Lucy and threatened to divorce him unless he promised never to see or speak to Lucy again. FDR agreed to the ultimatum -- an ultimatum that was strengthened by his mother’s threat to cut off his inheritance if he and Eleanor were divorced, as well as the fact that Franklin’s budding political career would be crushed if the affair was revealed. The relationship between FDR and Eleanor was never again passionate or loving after the discovery of the affair, but Eleanor kept her word and remained married to Franklin. Franklin, however, didn’t keep his word to Eleanor.

The Franklin-Lucy affair probably resumed shortly after Roosevelt’s first Inauguration in 1933. By that time, FDR and Eleanor had more of a professional relationship than a personal one. He respected the First Lady’s political viewpoints, supported her activism, used her as a sounding board, and tried to act on many of her suggestions. Personally, however, there was no passion or tenderness or intimacy between the First Couple. It was FDR and Eleanor’s daughter, Anna, who helped rekindle Franklin’s relationship with Lucy. She arranged for Lucy to visit the President in the White House when Eleanor was out of town. And on April 9, 1945, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd was in Warm Springs, Georgia visiting President Roosevelt due to Anna Roosevelt’s invitation.

FDR was so excited to see Lucy that he didn’t wait for Lucy to make the drive all the way from Aiken, South Carolina to Warm Springs. The President and his cousin Daisy decided to meet Lucy’s car en route. At Manchester, Georgia, 85 miles away from Warm Springs, the highway rendezvous took place. FDR looked happier than he had in months as Lucy got into FDR’s car along with her friend, painter Elizabeth Shoumatoff. Lucy had brought Shoumatoff along to paint a portrait of the President -- a portrait that she hoped would be an improvement on the recent photographs that had made Roosevelt look “ghastly”.

For the next two days, Roosevelt and Lucy enjoyed their time together, going on small drives, eating happy meals, and sitting together while Shoumatoff prepared to paint the President’s portrait, studying photographs and making preliminary drawings. Daisy Suckley had the opportunity to observe the unique relationship between FDR and Lucy Mercer and also had some private conversations with the President’s longtime mistress. In her diary, Daisy recorded her thoughts about the two after she accompanied them on an automobile drive that they took: “Lucy is so sweet with F(ranklin) -- No wonder he loves to have her around -- Toward the end of the drive, it began to be chilly and she put her sweater over his knees -- I can imagine just how she took care of her husband -- She would think of little things which make so much difference to a semi-invalid, or even a person who is just tired, like F(ranklin).”

On April 12th, President Roosevelt woke up and ate a light breakfast. He had a slight chill despite the warm, humid weather that day and wore his cape draped over his shoulders throughout the early afternoon. Roosevelt did a little bit of work, reading the Atlanta newspapers and dictating some correspondence. Elizabeth Shoumatoff had set up her easel in the living room where the President worked behind a card table that served as his makeshift desk. As Shoumatoff painted, FDR continued reading, and at about 1:00 PM, Roosevelt said, “We have got just about fifteen minutes more to work.”

In the quiet of the room, Daisy Suckley thought that the President had dropped his cigarette and was searching for it because his head slumped forward suddenly. Roosevelt could barely lift his head when Daisy asked what was wrong. He placed his left hand gently against the back of his head and, in a barely audible voice, told Daisy, “I have a terrific pain in the back of my head!”

Roosevelt quickly slipped into unconsciousness as the women in the room summoned help. They called for a doctor who was staying in a cottage close to the Little White House and they helped two of FDR’s valets carry the President into the bedroom. Roosevelt’s hands and feet were ice cold, but he was still breathing. Smelling salts were administered but FDR was unresponsive. As the doctor and aides tried to help the President, Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd and Elizabeth Shoumatoff recognized the hopelessness of the situation. They also recognized the potential scandal that was possible if it was learned that the President collapsed in the presence of his longtime mistress.

Shoumatoff packed up all of her paints and the unfinished portrait she had been working on. Lucy Mercer grabbed her belongings and took one last look at her beloved Franklin. He was still alive when they left, but he was breathing laboriously and his eyes no longer recognized Lucy. Lucy and Elizabeth Shoumatoff had been on the highway back to Aiken, South Carolina for an hour when President Franklin Delano Roosevelt died in Warm Springs at 3:35 PM. The official cause of death was a cerebral hemorrhage. FDR was 63 years old.

Eleanor Roosevelt was notified of her husband’s death a few minutes after 4:00 PM. She summoned Vice President Harry Truman to the White House while he was having a drink at the U.S. Capitol with House Speaker Sam Rayburn. Truman wasn’t told why he needed to hastily come to the White House, but he knew it sounded urgent. As Truman left the Capitol, he ran into a young Congressman who questioned the Vice President about his speedy exit -- a young Congressman named Lyndon Johnson.

At the White House at 5:30 PM, Eleanor Roosevelt broke the news to the Vice President simply a directly: “Harry, the President is dead.” Truman was stunned and asked what he could do for the widowed First Lady. Eleanor smiled sadly and asked, “Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one in trouble now.” At 7:00 PM, Chief Justice Harlan Fiske Stone administered the Oath of Office to Truman as the 33rd President of the United States.

By that time, Eleanor was on her way to Warm Springs to claim her husband’s body. At about midnight, she arrived at the Little White House in Georgia where she asked about her husband’s last hours. It was then that she learned news almost as shocking as the President’s death. Eleanor found out that FDR had been with his former mistress Lucy Mercer Rutherfurd when he was stricken. She spent 45 minutes alone with his body, picked out the clothing for his burial, but never lost her composure despite the shocks that she experienced that day.

A funeral train returned FDR’s body to Washington, D.C. the next day. Roosevelt was embalmed by morticians who found that the President’s arteries were so hardened that they could barely inject the embalming fluid into his body. FDR’s body laid in state in the East Room of the White House almost 80 years to the day that Abraham Lincoln’s body rested in the very same place following his assassination. On the 80th anniversary of Lincoln’s death -- April 15, 1945 -- Franklin Delano Roosevelt was buried in the garden of his beloved estate Hyde Park on the Hudson River in New York. Upon his death, the New York Times wrote of the deceased President:

“Men will thank God on their knees a hundred years from now that Franklin D. Roosevelt was in the White House. It was his hand, more than that of any other single man, that built the great coalition of the United Nations. It was his leadership which inspired free men in every part of the world to fight with greater hope and courage. Gone is the fresh and spontaneous interest which this man took, as naturally as he breathed air, in the troubled and the hardships and the disappointments and the hopes of little men and humble people.”

Elizabeth Shoumatoff’s Unfinished Portrait of President Roosevelt -- which she was working on when he died -- now hangs in the Little White House in Warm Springs, Georgia.

#History #Franklin D. Roosevelt #FDR #President Roosevelt #Warm Springs #FDR Library #Death of Franklin D. Roosevelt #Presidents #Elizabeth Shoumatoff

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galaxy12sblog · 2 years

Text

Calm yourself..

Yukio is trying to help Rasha with her anger, since it actually got problems of hurting people.

Yukio: alright, my brothers will help you with that anger. Now I have to help you with it.

Rasha: okay.

Yukio: First skill....*holding a rubber duck*

Rasha:....how the heck is-

Yukio: *squeeze the duck a million times* Does it annoy you?

Rasha: no.

Yukio: wait! I know. Hayato, try to poke her face.

Rasha: oh no you wouldn't-

Hayato: TOO LATE!!!! *Pokes her face a couple of Times*

Rasha: stop.

Hayato continues

Rasha: 💢....

Hayato still continues, while Yukio squeeze the duck

Rasha: (don't Rage, don't rage..!)...💢💢💢...WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT!?!?! *Grabs Hayato and throws him towards the tree* *takes the duck and Pops it* ....*sighs*

Hayato: Don't worry! I'm okay!

Yukio: Rasha. That's not the way you should do it.

Rasha: But Yukio, it's really hard..

Flames: Oh boy.

At the Forest

Yuka: Lesson 2. Now everytime you get angry, you actually don't think, you do something terrible all the time. Well not anymore, I'm gonna help you to calm yourself before you do something that you might regret.

Rasha: okay..

Yuka: okay, Hayato, Slap her.

Hayato: Mkay, *Slaps Rasha*

Rasha: !?!? You son of a Bitch!!! *Punches him*

Hayato: Ow!!! Geez, you really do have strength!

Yuka: See what I mean? Now .... before you react after the slap.. you must take deep breaths. Think happy thoughts, stay quiet for a moment...

Rasha: stay calm.. got it.

Yuka: I'll slap you this time *slaps Rasha*

Rasha: !!! I'm-....*inhales*......*sighs*....*look at Yuka*.....*slaps him*

Yuka: ow! That is not what I meant!

At the River

Roshan: now twin sister, The reason we're at the river is because, you need to think about something and calm yourself. Now I know when you get angry, you swear, hit someone and also kill them.

Rasha: And I feel guilty doing that..

Roshan: exactly. Now I am an unstoppable Male, Whenever you're mad, Punch me, I'm your punching bag.

Rasha: but I don't want to hurt you.

Roshan: see? You don't like it. So just rest and swing your legs around the River, feel the water move and the breeze~ close your eyes and think positive energy~ think about your kids, your husband~ your friends~! Your clan~

Rasha: *sighs*.....*smiles a bit, closes her eyes*....

Roshan: There you go, now the most difficult part is, when something disturb you.

Rasha: 💢....

Roshan: com'on Rasha, Control it..

Rasha: *growls* I can't! It's too difficult for me to control it! Maybe I shouldn't be a awful wife, Terrible mother, and also a disgrace to my clan! *Runs away*

At night, Rasha is crying on her bed, looking at the window..

Rasha:

Someone knocked the door

Rasha:...who is it..?

Flames: *opens the door*....me. *closes the door* .... You okay?..

Rasha: *shakes her head slowly*....

Flames: *sighs*...*sits down next to her*.... Rasha, I know you don't like it, but we were just helping you....

Rasha: it's not your fault guys... it's myself! I tried to be the best as I can and be a good person, But my anger keeps leveling up! I don't know what makes me so bad..! Now I lost someone who I love...The only person who have been there for me... and paid a lot of damages because of me..!...Now our divorce happened...wish I could've turn back and fix everything....

Flames: hm.....!!? Sis, I know what the problem is

Rasha: Don't you dare say it's Akela's fault, cause it's clearly not!

Flames: what? No, don't worry. I know why you have been angry for a few years...sister...*puts his hand on Rasha's shoulder* You're grieving...

Rasha: w-what?-

Flames: it all makes sense. You always think about Mom, right?

Rasha: how can I forget that day..?.... it's really stuck on my head...it keeps replaying.....

Flames: Bingo! That's the problem this whole time! Rasha, when you were a pup, you wanted to fight someone for doing something to your loved one, right?

Rasha: *nodded*

Flames: That explains why. But Ras.... you got to let go .... accept it....

Rasha: b-but I can't..! I tried but I can't..!....

Flames: hmm.... Here's a advice. After dinner, go outside, it's Calm outdoors, So sit down, look at the sky, and you'll see..*walks away*

Rasha:...???....

After dinner, Rasha went outside and Sits down, looks at the sky

Rasha:...hm.....!!!!...

Rasha sees some stars that connects each other as the shape of her Mother

Rasha: *tears on her cheek*....*fall asleep*.....

Then out of nowhere, she's suddenly standing on a mysterious, blue place, see her Mother.

Romania: my little Fighter~

Rasha couldn't resist but cry

Rasha: M-Mom?!

Romania: It's okay Sweetie~ don't cry..*wipes Rasha's tears*...I heard everything about you~ and about your anger...

Rasha: I'm sorry..! I just...I just can't let go..! It's painful!...

Romania: I know sweetie, I know.. but you have to let go~ I have to be free~

Romania has chains on her hands

Rasha: !!!...,

Romania: you see, Wolves that die, needs their family to let go... I know you don't want to.... But fight that memory..! I'm not free yet because you're the only one left..my little angel, my star, my fighter...

Rasha: *crying*... b-but...mom..

Romania: Sweetie, You still have a lot of loved ones by your side, You may have been divorced, but that doesn't mean you can't change, you have to change your anger.. you're still a strong woman, Your husband still loves you.. but you have been pushing him around..try to support him and yourself too~ you still have Akela, Queen Cloudter, and the rest of your friends including Mona and your kids. *Smiles* I was happy you got to adopt a pup... that was my gift for you~ I'm proud of you my child~ but I'm not free yet..

Rasha: *sniffs*.... okay, I'll let go and accept it..*hugs her*

Romania: *smiles* *chains come off* ...*kisses Rasha's forehead* Bye bye my fighter..*disappears*

Rasha soon wakes up, still Night.

Rasha:...*crying*...*smiles* I'm glad you're free Mom...

Yukio: *smiles*...She finally let go..

The next day, Rasha knows how to control her anger

Rasha: *a slap mark on her face*...*inhales*...*looks at Yuka*...

Yuka: good!

She even goes to the river and swing her legs, felt calm, and her laugh for the first time

Rasha: *Laughing* *sprays the water at Roshan*

Roshan: Hey! *Laughs*

Rasha: Gotcha!

And Have a lot of fun and help.

Rasha: *running around the forest* *Flower on her hair* *smiles*

She finally found joy. There's more for her.

The end

Akela belongs to @king-trollex-fan

Queen Cloudter belongs to @kotafiona

Mona belongs to @lasirenacanta

They were Mentioned in the story-

#galastory

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wh33zy · 3 years

Text

My Read on Terrorist: the Black Sheep of Junjou Romantica

Tonight, I wanted to do an analysis of the most controversial couple to enter Nakamura’s arena and to make waves in the BL world. I will be analyzing them both separately and then together. Through the scrutiny of all fans alike, they have prevailed and have become one of the healthiest as well as charming couples that Nakamura has created to date. This is all despite the fucked up situation that they’re in.

So, why were/are they vehemently hated? The main reason I found was because of their seventeen year age gap. As a refresher: Miyagi starts the story at the age of 34 and Shinobu starts at 17, months away from turning 18. Miyagi was more recently divorced from Shinobu’s older sister, Risako, who are both the children of the dean at Mitsuhashi University where Miyagi works as a tenured professor. Upon hearing about Miyagi’s divorce, Shinobu flew back to Japan from studying abroad in Australia in order to pursue him. Through Miyagi trying to get Shinobu to fall out of love with him as well as trying to help get him into college, Miyagi ends up catching feelings for Shinobu. This is where their relationship starts.

Takatsuki Shinobu: He isn’t a terribly complex character, but one of the most interesting yet. He still remains quite mysterious, as he won’t share any details about himself unless someone asks, so for likes/dislikes as well as hobbies, I think he has a lot of potential to be even more interesting as the chapters go on. But, we do know that he is incredibly book smart from the way he excels in all of his studies/studied abroad/is bilingual and socially smart with the way he seems to make a lot of friends pretty easily.

His emotions run incredibly deep, and each one he feels hits him incredibly hard where he can’t help but express it outwardly. He has a pretty aggressive way of doing it too. This is evident by the way he’ll throw a punch if he’s mad (not a serious one) or tackle Miyagi in a hug when he’s really happy. He’s an open book who’ll let you know what he thinks without any fear, no matter who you are. Not only does this make him the peak of direct and straightforward, but this can make him rather intimidating and come even more aggressive than he already does.

He’s a tough guy, doesn’t look it, but he is. He’s a little rough around the edges. I am of the opinion that he was sent to Australia to be tamed but only came back tougher. The Texas of Britain only made him even stronger and this is evident by the way he cowers when he’s fourteen when he’s confronted by three grown men. If adult Shinobu were in the situation, those three men would have their souls snatched. What this paragraph is saying is that Shinobu is the type of person who when thrown to the wolves, he comes back leading the pack.

He’s also the most ambitious and determined in terms of getting what he wants out of life. If he wants it, Shinobu will try his damnedest to get it with no hesitation. He’s either all in or not at all. At the same time, however, he won’t waste his own time/energy. If it isn’t meant to be, he will completely change course to move on.

I think this is what separates him from almost all of Nakamura’s characters; when he found out about Miyagi still having feelings for his sensei, he wasn’t willing to wait around. While he did love Miyagi with all he had, he took it upon himself to look out for his own best interests and move on. I think he realizes that love, more specifically with Miyagi, is an amazing luxury and a dream but not a necessity in his life. Shinobu wanted to be someone’s number one and someone to be ride or die for him as well, since he would be the same, so he only accepted Miyagi when became that someone.

At the same time, Shinobu didn’t force nor want Miyagi to forget about his sensei because he understood that she was an important part of his life. While it does seem like he was acting in desperation, this is why I don’t think it was. Shinobu wanted Miyagi before his sister married him so when the divorce happened, he took his chance to pursue Miyagi, and was ready to back out (more than once!) when it didn’t seem like it would work.

Here’s the thing that makes him more mortal: he’s kind of insecure. While he does have confidence in his abilities to do anything, he actually worries about what people think of him. He wants to be well-liked, he wants to be someone who people think is great. He also worries a lot about how Miyagi sees him, if he’s too immature and young for him. However, he turns these things into self-improvement instead of wallowing. He constantly works on improving cooking and being more social, smiling more, etc.

At the end of the day, Shinobu has a lot of self respect, a drive to improve, and is very considerate towards others (although it’s not obvious, he is!) and I found him to be pretty mature for someone just entering adulthood. All of the reasons above are why he is one of my favorites and why I find him a force to be reckoned with.

Miyagi Yoh: He’s a pretty simple guy: Graduated high school, went to college, found his career, got married (then divorced), is a history buff, and an avid reader. He has pretty traditional leaning values and views and can be a jokester at times. There really isn’t a lot to Miyagi, but I personally don’t think there needs to be. He’s actually the more laid back one in the relationship, although he has his moments where he can be uptight and more reserved.

He’s a more gentle person and definitely cares about being professional, about the proper ways to go about things. Although he is ambitious when it comes to the important stuff, he can sometimes be quite wishy-washy and unsure of himself. His confidence in his own abilities isn’t terribly high, but he does try his best. He does tend to go with the flow sometimes and struggles with handling difficult situations.

He also has his insecurities that are quite similar to Shinobu: his age and if he good enough. In the manga, you see these come up a lot, since he worries about these things pretty often. It’s why he gets so bothered by Shinobu smiling and getting along with girls his age. He can’t help but worry that maybe Shinobu might want that “normal” life and leave him for it.

Which brings me to his main problem: anxiety. A lot of Miyagi’s acting out or on impulse stem from harboring a lot of anxiety. He tends to worry a lot about the future, if he’s doing enough, if he’s good enough, Shinobu’s feelings, Shinobu’s well-being, Shinobu’s future, and being left behind again. When he spirals into anxiety for one of these reasons, he tends to shut down and close himself off or act on impulse.

While it does seem like he has a much better handle on controlling, hiding, and understanding his feelings/emotions, he really fucking doesn’t. What he really does with his feelings is not express them or acknowledge them and hold them in until they explode. I think this stems from the fact that he’s supposed to be the ‘calm and collected adult’, and having to hide his feelings for his sensei when he was with Risako. Now, let’s talk about his sensei for a moment: the sensei I’m referring to is the first women he fell in love with when he was in high school where they had a similar age gap to him and Shinobu now. Sensei was terminally ill and Miyagi helped with some of her care and was also there at the time of her passing. He never seemed to get over her for the next seventeen or so years after that. Miyagi squashed down his grief, so he never really coped or got through it.

It and the divorce also left him with some abandonment issues which is another explanation why he was so upset when he found out Shinobu was planning to leave and went after him even though it collided with him not wanted to acknowledge his feelings. This also explains his jealousy when he sees Shinobu acting cheerfully with others; he’s afraid of being left behind again.

So, I can confidently say that Miyagi doesn’t like dealing with his emotions and maybe doesn’t know how to. He’s also not confident in how he should go about them. This is especially prominent in the way that he’s not sure when/if he should be affectionate with Shinobu. He worries about the timing of it, what if Shinobu isn’t in the mood, if he should bother Shinobu with it in the first place, etc. This caused him to not really take any initiative in their relationship for a while until he realized it (with Shinobu’s help of course) and worked on it to improve.

The Relationship: So, ironically, although they have the most problematic and drama inducing set up, they are the healthiest couple yet. They are healthier than the main couple on the cover (I have yet to see Romantica be as open with each other as they are but Romantica is on their way)! Of course, they’re not at Mistake level...yet.

Whatever problems in their relationship, insecurities, inner most feelings, and needs are discussed. They are both big on communication, and have been irritated when one of them isn’t talking. They also don’t hide their feelings or issues from each other, so their level of understanding one another’s points of view is pretty high. If there’s something wrong, they talk it out and it’s solved by the end of the chapter. Showing affection also is not a big deal in the sense that no one is too embarrassed or too desperate. They can hug and kiss casually without it being a big thing. They never have to wonder if they’re wanted by each other and they make it obvious that they care. They also make an effort to spend time with each other and plan dates. They also are interested and invested in each other’s lives/interests. They are just plain sweet on one another.

Terrorist is what the title suggests: Pure Romance.

But all of this is ignored, these two barely given a chance by a lot of fans because of their age gap. Because an almost middle aged man is dating his ex-wife’s younger brother which is the ultimate betrayal by a sibling and an ex. Which, I understand! I totally don’t blame someone for being uncomfortable with this sort of thing and it turning them off! But, don’t hate on them and then in the same breath uplift Egoist/Minimum or Nostalgia when they WISH they could be half as functional and sweet as Terrorist is.

And that is the darjeeling!

#junjou romantica #junjou terrorist #miyagi yoh #takatsuki shinobu

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Irreconcilable

Warnings: nonconsent sex, violence.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You and Steve come to a breaking point but he’s not ready to let you go.

Note: My current kink is Steve Rogers being a bad motherfucker with a hint of insanity. Like he really coming in hot here. Oh and he got a touch of breeding kink. Enjoy <3

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You had come a long way since you were a naive SHIELD agent mooning over the one and only Steve Rogers. You were no longer an agent, you had married Steve Rogers, and now you were divorcing Steve Rogers. Five years went by in a flash and yet it felt like an eternity. It was like you were starting over again.

New job, new house, new you. Just you. Alone.

It was a breath of fresh air. You had spent so long in denial that acceptance felt like freedom. In the two years of wedded misery you spent with Steve, you had convinced yourself it was bliss. Something about that ring had changed him and he had expected you to change too.

Well you did, just not how he wanted.

It was subtle at first. He was still sweet and your honeymoon was immaculate. When you got home, back in the thick of things, he started to grow irritable. At home, on missions, in bed. First, it started with a breakfast you failed to cook. Then he didn’t think you should be working so much as he was eager to start a family. The revelation that you were in no such hurry, further agitated him. And when it came to intimacy…

When you were just dating, he was doting, gentle, diligent. He worshipped you and made you feel beautiful. Then he turned relentless. Foreplay dwindled to a slap on the ass and a growled order. On nights you denied him, for a headache or some report you had to read, he slept on the couch. And when you didn’t reject him, it was as if he was intent upon hurting you. Punishing you for daring to defy him.

And when you tried to talk it out, there was nothing to talk about. He grew silent and restless. He didn’t have the patience to stay and delve into whatever had turned him so cruel. He had work to do or at least, something better.

And he attended a single counseling session before he stormed out and declared it nonsense. In his day, couples made it work, through thick and thin. Well, in his day, husbands also got away with slapping around their wives and children. You liked to think that the new century had improved upon the formula.

Then his missions grew longer and he started going out with the boys a little too often. Sam and Bucky liked to have a beer now and then but you’d never known them to keep fratboy hours. You couldn’t disprove Steve’s plans but you also couldn’t be certain of them. You guessed he was cheating but you didn’t need the excuse to get out. You were already done.

So you went to Stark and Fury and discussed your departure. They agreed not to tell Steve while you figured things out. Then you went to a lawyer and drew up the papers. You didn’t want anything, just out. And, you suspected, Steve didn’t want you anymore either.

You waited until you got a position as head of security at a government office downtown. Well-paying and respectable. Fury’s referral had gone a long way. A desk job was a dream after years of fieldwork. It was all going to be different and you were finally ready for the change.

Steve was due home from his latest mission at four. It was already seven and the boxes had already been packed up and taken to your new condo. You would let him keep the furniture. Still, the house looked empty… well, it had for a while now.

You paced across the front room for another hour and at last you heard his car. A month ago, you’d be ready to tear into him. Ready to rant and rave until your head hurt. Not anymore. You had no energy left for this relationship.

He came in quietly. He stopped short as he entered the living room. He looked around and sighed. His hands went to his hips. The Captain stance. His eyes turned deadly as he looked at you. You quit your pacing and crossed to the coffee table. You took the large envelope and went to him. You held it out.

“Everything is yours,” You said as he stared at the envelope. “Clean break. I don’t want anything. Just out.”

“What?” He brushed past the envelope and walked the perimeter of the room. “You can’t be serious.”

“Steve, you know this isn’t working.” You followed him. “We’re both miserable.”

“No, you’re miserable,” He turned on you. “I’ve only been trying to help you and you just sit there and sulk. And now you’re-- you’re trying to divorce me.”

“I am divorcing you,” You pushed the envelope to his chest. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.”

“You made a vow--”

“Jesus, Steve, this isn’t 1366,” You huffed. “I can’t live like this anymore. I won’t.”

He was silent as his jaw ticked. He backed away and crossed his arms.

“You know I still love you right,” He said quietly.

“And? Love can’t fix whatever this is,” You insisted. “Steve, come on, this doesn’t have to be difficult. You sign and it’s done. Take it to a lawyer, you’ll see it’s a good break. You get the house, the furniture, everything. We leave with what we came with; you get more than that.”

He spun back. He had the grace to look hurt.

“Think about this, please,” He pleaded, “You don’t want to do this.”

“Steve, you won’t talk to me, you won’t listen to me, what is there left to think about?” You asked. “It’s done. We’re done. You think I haven’t been thinking about this for months?”

He nodded and his jaw squared. His brows drew together and he tilted his head as he stared at the envelope in your hand.

“Fine,” He conceded. “I’ll take it to my lawyer…”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” You tried to near him and he turned his back on you again. You set it on the coffee table instead. “It’s just here, okay?”

“If you were sorry, you would try,” He growled. “Oh, and let me tell you, this will not be easy.” He peered over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure of that.”

The anger in his voice startled you. You swallowed and backed away from the table. You took your purse and your jacket in the deathly lull that followed. Steve didn’t move as he stared at the artificial fireplace.

“Goodbye, Steve,” You said as you hovered in the doorway.

“Get out,” He sneered. “Trust me, this isn’t goodbye.”

💍

Your last day at Stark Tower was the same day you served Steve the papers. You had planned it so delicately but you knew now he would not go along with it. Not peacefully. You spent your weekend unpacking and on Monday began your new position in the city.

You were only a block away from the Tower but you avoided the area. Tony and Fury promised not to tell Steve where you were working. You suspected that wouldn’t go well for them but you trusted them. They’d faced much worse than a bitter Steve Rogers.

Coming home to your new place was no different than before. What was different was that you could breath. There was no oppressive shadow hovering over you. You opened a bottle of wine and turned on the series that Steve always complained was too vapid. He couldn’t say anything now. He could sit and watch his dry war documentaries as he preened over any mention of himself. He sure was up his own ass.

You fell asleep on the couch. You woke and repeated the same day. It all became routine and you slipped easily into the single life. Single and unwilling to mingle.

Woven into your newly found serenity, was a thread of insecurity. Steve’s promise echoed in your head as you closed your eyes at night. “This will not be easy”. You found yourself staring at your phone as you waited for the call from your lawyer. It didn’t come for a whole month. Steve wanted a deposition. It was to be scheduled for the next week.

You set your phone down and sighed. Of course. You knew it. He wanted to be messy and surely he knew the extra lawyer fees wouldn’t make this any easier. You couldn’t fathom, however, what else he could want from you. Your settlement had swayed heavily in his favour. Well, you could guess he wanted the final word. A final victory.

Captain America never failed.

You’d have to book the day off and only a month into the job. You were sure they’d understand. Your superiors were few and your team was competent. It only annoyed you how even now, Steve could get in the way of your work.

Well, better to get it done and over with. Maybe when it was all signed and sealed, you could leave New York. It would be terribly difficult to find another job and the city had grown dull. These were his streets, his people. You would just be the woman who walked out on the first Avenger.

💍

You sat in the stiff plastic chair and stared through the clear glass wall of the deposition room. The court reporter was within, readying for the meeting. Your lawyer, Donald Calliers, was beside you and tried to calm you down with assurances that it was nothing more than a formality. There was no reason for this to go beyond a single day and he didn’t suspect much would change in the settlement.

Steve arrived ten minutes before the meeting was to begin. You peeked at him, hoping he wouldn’t catch you. He had grown out his beard and his hair was getting long. He looked very much unlike the man you’d married, albeit he was well-kempt and put together for the occasion. He was accompanied by three lawyers. That made your stomach drop.

“Three lawyers?” You whispered to Donald. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a show. Trust me. I run depositions in my sleep. No one needs that amount of representation at these things. Quality over quantity.” He said under his breath.

“I hope your right,” You replied. “I don’t think I can afford three of you.”

“Good thing there’s only one of me,” He kidded. “One of a kind.”

You forced a small laugh and tried not to fidget. You had barely been able to keep still before Steve showed up, and now you felt as if your entire body was shaking. You could feel his eyes on you and hear his own low whispers to his lawyers.

The door opened and saved you from sinking into doubt. Steve and his team stood and waited for you to enter first. You sat on the far side of the table and they took the seats across from you. The court reporter took the chair at the head of the table and cleared his throat. He swore each of you in and signalled the beginning of the deposition. Steve’s lawyers allowed no delay.

“Mrs. Rogers,” The tall blonde woman with the square jaw, Ms. Lauer, began. “We’ll start with your monthly expenses.”

Donald shuffled through his folder and slid over the copies of your statements. The lawyers read over them and nodded as they made notes.

“And on average, thinking of only you, how often do you travel throughout the year for pleasure?” Another lawyer asked. This one a bald man called Mr. Harin.

“Once, maybe. I tend to work more than I vacation,” You answered.

“And how often do you dine out?” The third asked; Mr. Pollard.

“Couple times a month, maybe,” You avoided Steve’s gaze as it never wavered. He seemed not to even hear the questions or your answers.

“And your debt? You have any credit card debt? And outstanding loans owing?”

“I have a card I am currently paying off but it’s only a couple hundred owing,” You replied evenly. This was ridiculous. Was he really going to try to fleece you? He still made more than you did.

“And you cited irreconcilable differences on your papers,” Harin said. “We would ask what exactly these differences are?”

You looked at Steve and the angles of his face hardened.

“It’s not much of a marriage when you never see each other and when you do, you don’t talk,” You said. “And when you do communicate, it is nothing short of hostile.”

“Oh, and would you classify this hostility as abuse?” Pollard asked.

“No, not really,” You answered. “Just unhealthy and unbearable.”

“So you would file on the grounds of irretrievable breakdown but as our client would state, any such breakdown has not been evident for the required period.” Harin intoned. “In fact, he say you’ve surprised him with such a claim and you would cite no other valid grounds for the divorce.”

“Our marriage has been little more than a shell for the last year,” You said. “As I’ve been informed, it is only six months required to make a claim.”

“But you never made such a claim to your husband, thus how could he recognize and try to reconcile these differences?” Lauer prodded.

“I did. I have a statement from a counselour that confirms that were seeking help nine months ago,” You insisted.

“We have seen that but you did not attend further after that instance.” Harin argued.

“And… he wouldn’t go,” You accused. “He wouldn’t try any sort of reconciliation.”

“And do you have proof of his refusal?” Lauer asked.

You looked to Donald who shifted in his chair. “It is not required to have proof of this claim,” He said. “She did recognize that the relationship was declining and she made a visible effort to amend that.”

“Once in two years,” Harin countered. “And she would not claim abuse or inhumane cruelty and we’ve heard no mention of adultery.”

“It does not invalidate her claims of irreconcilable differences. You might refer to their schedules and the amount of time they spent apart.” Donald retorted.

“Occupational absence does not account for personal neglect,” Pollard said.

“So…” You looked along the line of lawyers.

“This settlement you’ve offered is completely invalid. There are no grounds for it.” Lauer stated.

“But...but…”

“We cannot allow our client to sign these papers knowing them to be of such questionable validity thus we ask that you withdraw the claim.” Pollard declared. “We have faith that your lawyer is competent enough to agree with us.”

Donald frowned and turned to you. You spun your chair around as he leaned over and whispered quietly. “They’re right.”

“But they can’t disprove my claims,” You hissed.

“Sure but that’s not their job. If we went before a judge, we’d be overruled easily.” He explained. “You’ll have to sign a separation first and wait a year. If it was uncontested, sure, I’d have you out by the end of the week but he’s putting up a fight.”

“A year?” You shook your head.

“Separated. You just have to live apart for a year. No contact required but you have to maintain residency in the state.”

“Really?”

“We can probably get it signed today, I’m sure,” Donald assured. “It’s the best we can hope for.”

“Fine. If it’s a means to and end.”

You turned back and Donald reached for his briefcase and shuffled around.

“My client proposes that instead of the settlement, that an order of separation might be more appropriate for the circumstance.” Donald said. “Would your client agree?”

Steve looked to Harin and gave a single nod. He wasn’t happy.

“Alright, we’ll have it drawn up and faxed over to your offices to be signed by the end of the week.” Donald said. “Is that agreeable?”

“It is,” Lauer accepted. “In the meantime, we would ask that your client prepares a full statement of her expenses over the next year and we would also require a report of her personal activities within the last year of her marriage.”

“Personal activities?” You said.

“Our client has his own accounted for. We only wish to cover our bases.”

You shrugged and Donald agreed to it. You couldn’t look at Steve. You knew what he was implying. He thought you were unfaithful or was at least petty enough to raise the accusation.

“Are we done here?” You whispered.

💍

Another month and even more wine. Your days had grown endless. When you were at work, you could forget about your legal connection to the asshole who chose to make your nights a living hell. Ever since your failed deposition, he had broken his silence.

It started with a text. Sweet, even. ‘I miss you, we should think this through.’ That was until the separation was finalized. Then they turned nasty; ‘you won’t get away that easily’; ‘we’ll see if you last a year’. Then you changed your number and deleted his.

That was when it all caught up to you. Your marriage had failed, you’d had to flip your entire life because of him, and now you were all alone in a condo that was way too big for just you. And you couldn’t leave the state until this was all over.

You were awoken one night by the chiming of your phone. You could still the acrid wine on your tongue as you reached for it. A video call? You answered in your sleepy haze and were stunned by the image that met you. The loud slapping that rose from the speakers and the low purr of some unknown woman. Her wavy auburn hair spilled over her shoulders as her round ass clapped against a pelvis. You recognized the hand that gripped her hip.

“This should be you,” Steve said from behind the camera. “Fuck, I wish it was.”

You hung up and fumbled with the phone. It fell onto the floor as you sat up. You turned on the lamp and pressed your palms to the side of your head. What the fuck was that? You let out a grunt of frustration as you heard the phone ringing again. You picked it up and declined the call. You couldn’t block the private number.

You silenced your phone and shoved it in your dresser. You went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. You felt sick to your stomach. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not after that. So you went to the couch and turned on Netflix. It would be a long day at work.

💍

You slept for about an hour before your alarm blared from the other room. You stumbled off the couch to slap the clock and retrieved your phone from the drawer. You gather your clothes for the day and made your coffee. You sat with the steaming mug and unlocked your phone. He’d sent a video. It played automatically. It showed him coming down the woman’s thigh. You deleted it and grumbled at your coffee.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and forced yourself to get dressed. If he called again, you wouldn’t answer. You’d have to change your number; again.

The office was quiet. Thankfully. You had another coffee as you went over logistics and kept an eye on the screen mounted in the corner that showed you every camera in the building. You liked having the view. An alert went up for the bank down the street and you keyed in the response measures. It was a faulty trip.

You looked back to the cameras and your chair almost rolled out from under you. It couldn’t be. You got up and walked to the screen. Steve was just down the hall by the receptionist's desk. Several of your employees were gathered around him. You could hear their voices through your door.

“Fuck,” You swore and thought of locking your office.

You slipped out into the hall and sneaked down to the bathroom instead. You listened against the door as fragments floated through the air. ‘THE Captain America?’ ‘So honoured to meet you’...

You waited twenty minutes before it all died down. The silence that followed was eerie and you slowly cracked open the door to peer down at your office. You didn’t see anyone. You let out a long breath and stepped out. You tiptoed along and peered down towards the receptionist. All had gone back to their work but chattered here and there about their visitor.

You opened your office door and he was there. He sat in your chair as he swung the seat back and forth. He smirked at you. You blinked and let the door fall closed behind you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Just wanted to see the new gig,” He said. “Must be boring pent up in here all day.”

“Not at all,” You crossed your arms. “Steve, leave.”

“Come on, don’t you miss it?” He ignored you. “You remember how it used to be in the field? You remember when I fucked you on the jet? Or maybe at that little party where we were supposed to be posing as arms dealers. Tight space but we made it work.”

“What is wrong with you?” You marched over to your desk and leaned on it as you glared at him. “You need to go. Now. This is my job.”

“Wouldn’t mind having a go here,” He put his foot up on your desk and crossed his other leg over. “Bend you over. You think you could keep quiet?”

“Steve.” You hissed. “I mean it, go. I work in security. Don’t make me call them.”

“I’m sure they’re all too eager to escort me out,” He taunted. “You really think they would? After I signed their mugs and ridiculous posters.”

“I’ll call the police then,” You said.

“False reports can get you a hefty fine, even some time,” He leaned back in your chair. “Unless you truly think they’ll listen to you?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Because you still think you’re going to get away,” He said. “And I assure you that last night was just a taste of what I have planned for you.”

“Steve…”

“Steve,” He mimicked breathily, “’Oh, Steve, harder, harder’… I miss that.”

“Well, I don’t,” You sneered. “Last night was disgusting. You are disgusting.” You stared at him. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to us?” He pulled his feet from the desk and sat up. “You said you would be with me forever. You are my wife.”

“Not for much longer, Steve,” You said. “Stop making this worse for yourself.”

“Oh, I’m having a hell of a time,” He stood slowly. “And let me tell you this, that girl, meant nothing. A toy to me. You… oh, I’ll make sure you have something to remember me by.” He rounded the desk. “I’ll make sure you’re never rid of me.”

You reached around blindly as you turned to him and grabbed your stapler. You hit the release as he got closer and held it up shakily.

“Don’t come near me,” You said. “Go.”

“Or what?” He took another step.

“Steve,” You warned.

“Oh, I just want a little fun. How about--”

He tried to grab you and you lunged at him. You hit the stapler as it met his chest and he barely flinched. You pulled it back and held it by the bottom and swung it again. This time, you smacked him in the shoulder and his jaw ticked.

“You’re getting rusty,” He laughed as he knocked the stapler from your hands.

“Steve,” You backed away and he stopped suddenly.

He looked you up and down and pulled out his phone. He lifted a brow and tucked it away.

“Damn, looks like I’m already running late,” He sighed. “Tony’s not gonna be too pleased but… I’ll let him know you say hi.” He headed for the door as you watched him in terror. “Oh, and… I did mean it. Til death do us part.”

💍

You didn’t see Steve again. A whole week passed and the only hint of his existence were the texts you didn’t read. Ten and a half months to go. You could do it. He was just playing with you. Trying to change your mind. He would admit defeat as soon as the final paper was signed. He had to.

You got home and uncorked your Friday night wine. You’d been abstaining for a while as you didn’t want to make it a habit but you were so on edge, you needed to just chill. You poured a healthy glass and pulled a throw over your shoulders as you sank into the couch. You really didn’t mind living alone.

You almost finished the bottle and laid back on the sofa. You were cozy in the heat of the wine and the fuzzy blanket. You dozed off as soon as the theme of the next episode stopped playing. You floated in a haze and your eyes opened only as a shadow passed on the other side.

You sat up dizzily and glanced around. You gripped your spinning head as you stood and clumsily walked around your front room. It was likely just the television. You shook your head and told yourself it was nothing. You were drunk and falling asleep in front of a screen often left you restless.

You fell back down onto the couch and leaned into it. You skipped the episode back, suddenly awake. Slowly, the alcohol dragged you down and you began to slump against the cushions. Your head began to loll and you felt a warmth brush over your cheek.

“A place like this must get lonely,” Steve’s voice startled you as his breath tickled your skin.

You tried to jump up and caught you below your arms and pulled you back over the couch. You wrestled with him as your vision wobbled. You flailed and kicked as his arm slipped up and he wrapped it around your neck. He squeezed until a weight settled in your limbs and he slowly lowered you to the floor.

“It’s okay, honey,” He slithered as the void welcomed you. “You won’t be lonely anymore.”

💍

You awoke slowly. Your head was heavy from excess. You knew the place but it wasn’t your condo. You laid in the bed you once shared with Steve. You groaned as you stretched your arm across the mattress. It was just you. You sat up and found Steve watching you.

He stood from the chair near the window and you quickly rolled to the other edge of the bed. He jumped across and caught you before you could take another step. He pulled you back and turned so that you were pinned beneath him. You screamed and he covered your mouth.

“I’ve done a lot since you left. A lot of time to think,” He said. “Soundproofing, renovations, redecorating.”

You mumbled into his palm and he rolled his hips against you.

“All for you.” He snarled. “I’ve waited too long.”

You tried to peel his hand away from your lips and he only clung tighter.

“I got the nursery done though. It’s nice. I think you’ll like it,” He continued. “The only thing I haven’t done is thought of names.”

You finally pried his hand down to your chin and gasped. “Steve, please…”

“I think this might just be the reconciliation we need,” He said. “Don’t you?”

“No,” You begged. “No, Steve, get off--”

“I don’t think you were meant to be a wife. You were meant to be a mommy,” He nuzzled your head.

“Steve, stop. Get off of me right now. Or--”

“Or what? Doesn’t look good when the soon-to-be ex-wife breaks into her spouse’s house.” He growled. “Something like that, that could lose you your job and it definitely wouldn’t look could in a deposition.”

“Steve,” You sobbed. “You’re hurting me.”

“You hurt me!” He snapped. “You understand?! You hurt me and you’re not going to take my life from me.”

He pushed himself off you roughly and grabbed the back of your neck as he pulled you up after him. He turned you to him and gripped your head between his large hands.

“You’ll find someone else. Someone who can give you that life, Steve,” You begged. “It’s just not me.”

“It is you.” He sneered. “Only you.”

“Please, don’t--”

“Shut up,” He shouted. “I’m done talking with you. You never listened to me. Ever.” He shoved you away. “So you’re going to listen now.”

You glanced at the door and he caught your chin and turned you back to him.

“You think you can get out of this room? Think you can get past me?” He challenged.

You stared at him and your heart sank. Fight as you might, you could never beat the Captain. He was always one step ahead; in the field and off.

“Answer me,” He rescinded his hand and slapped you across the cheek. “Now.”

You were stunned by the force of the strike. You stumbled back and tears rose in your eyes.

“St-Steve…” You stammered but his eyes were distant. “No, I can’t.” You admitted weakly. “You know I can’t.”

“Finally talking some sense,” He smirked. “Now, we’ll start easy.”

Your lips parted but you didn’t know what else to say. You hung your head. A silent surrender.

“I didn’t hear you,” He mocked. You looked up at him confused. “That’s a ‘yes, husband’.”

You blinked at him. Your lip trembled as you forced the words out and he shuddered in delight.

“Now, you can undress me first.” He said.

You uttered another ‘yes, husband’ and crossed to him. You lifted his tee and he bent to help you sweep it over his head. His eyes never left you. You shakily undid his jeans and you gulped back a sob. It felt like the first time again, except you were shaking from excitement. This was fear.

When at last you bared him of his briefs, he was hard. He stroked himself without shame and rubbed the tip against your shirt.

“Your turn,” He said.

You stripped a piece at a time. It was mechanical, instinctual. You didn’t think as you dropped your clothes on the floor. You stood before him entirely vulnerable. Naked. You had loved this man once, but you weren’t sure he had ever loved you. Only wanted what he could get out of you. Be it his pleasure, some reassurance of his insecurities, or the life he’d romanticized for so long.

“Turn around,” He commanded and you obeyed with a ‘yes, husband’. He hummed at that. He pushed on your shoulders until you bent. “Grab your ankles… and stay like that.”

He went to the closet and returned. He held straps you’d never seen before. Your sex had never been bland but he’d never gone beyond the usual. Never wanted toys or lube; just you. He secured your wrists to your ankles. He lifted your chin and looked into your eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck you like never before. For all those times I slept on that goddamn couch,” He pushed his mouth against yours. “I’m done holding back.”

He stood and rounded you. He slapped your ass and you almost fell. He steadied you and pushed your feet apart as far as they could go. You were entirely imbalanced, barely able to keep yourself up. His hands slipped down your thighs and back up and he gripped your hips.

He pressed against you and wiggled his hips as his cock rubbed against your ass.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” He growled. “You made it this way.”

You shook your head and stayed silent. He was too far gone. Whatever you said would only anger him further.

He reached between you and pushed his cock down to your cunt. He eased into you an inch at a time. Your walls resisted him as you were unprepared for the intrusion. As he got further in, it hurt more and more. You whined and he cursed as he slapped your ass so hard it stung.

“Come on, honey,” He bucked his hips and filled you entirely. You cried out at the pain. “I know you can take it.”

He thrust against and you shook. He rocked his hips until your body reacted. Each delve inside grew easier as your arousal leaked from your core. He kept you moving steadily along his cock as his groans swirled around you. His pelvis clapped against your ass.

“Yeah, yeah, this is what I wanted,” He breathed. “This is what I imagined. Only you…”

He moved you against him as his grunts grew deeper and deeper. Your legs trembled and he held your waist tighter as he slammed you back against him. His thrusts turned slower but sharper. He inched your foot forward with his and then the other. He walked you over to the bed until your faced was pressed to the mattress.

He rutted into you harder. You yelped into the bed and seemed riled from the sound.

“Louder! Louder!” He demanded, speeding up until you cried out again and again. “Oh fuck, honey, I missed us so much.” He kneaded your ass hungrily. “Maybe if you had let me fuck you like this before, you never would’ve made such a stupid mistake.”

He sank into you completely and stopped. He pulled out of you but only to flip you onto the bed. You landed on your back awkwardly and bent your legs as they remained bound to your wrist. He climbed up swiftly and was upon you in a moment. He entered you easily and snaked his arms around your thighs as he caught his rhythm.

You bit your lip as you felt your core swelling. He reached down and pressed his thumb against your clit. You squeaked in surprise and his hips moved faster. You mewled as he swirled around your bud and gritted your teeth against the rise.

“Cum for me,” He said. “I know you can, honey.”

You grunted as you couldn’t help but climax. Your walls pulsed around his cock and you quivered violently. Your muscles ached terribly from how you were tangled beneath him and he sped up once more. He curled your back as he raised himself on his knees and lifted your ass off the bed. You felt as if you fold in on yourself.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re going to look so good…” His hand crawled up and spread over your stomach. “With my baby inside of you.”

You closed your eyes and turned your head away.

“Here it comes, honey,” He rasped. “I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna fill you up.”

He exclaimed and you felt his release as it seeped into you. His hips moved spasmodically against you as he slowly lowered your ass and leaned back on his heels as he stilled. He let out a deep snarl and squeezed your thigh.

“Mmmm, I can’t wait…”” He hummed and rubbed your stomach. “I can’t wait to see you grow.”

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #one shot #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 years

Note

45. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed

The offer had hung heavy on her mind for a week, but she had finally almost made her decision. All she needed was to talk to Ned, then it was final. Then she would hand in her letter of resignation and leave. After fifteen years at the company she would say her farewells. She had been married to the CEO for thirteen of those years, she reflected. Thirteen out of fifteen, that was a lot.

The curtains were pulled for the glass walls of his office when she came there, meaning he was having an important conversation with someone. She wondered who it was.

It felt like all of her inside was crawling when she stood there and waited. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. It was normal, there was nothing unusual about talking to her boss about resigning. But she had been there for so long, it would feel strange to leave it behind. And it would feel strange to talk about it with him of all people.

After a couple of minutes the door opened and Maege came out.

“Hello, Catelyn” she said and nodded.

“Hello, Maege.”

The other woman looked at her for a moment before leaving. It was a look that was somewhat pitiful. She didn’t like that look, she had seen it so many times. Every time they were in a room together people looked at them like that.

Taking one last deep breath she poked her head inside.

“Mr. Stark, do you have a minute?” she asked. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

She would never get used to calling him that instead of Ned. But she had convinced herself it was better to do so.

“Yes, come inside” he said, gesturing towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

She carefully closed the door behind her and then walked over and sat in the chair, crossing her legs.

“Is it about the kids?”

She understood why he would assume that. They were rarely alone except for when they needed to talk about the kids. Not because they had parted on terrible terms, it was just easier that way. For everyone.

“No, it’s not” she said, avoiding eye contact. “It’s about my job here.”

“Okay” he said, as if telling her to go on.

She noticed she was tapping her fingers against the armrest and immediately stopped, folding her hands in her lap instead. Why did it make her so nervous? They weren’t married anymore, it was just about her job and nothing else.

“Edmure made me an offer” she said, forcing herself to look at him. “It’s a great offer, and I will take it. Unless you give me a reason to refuse it.”

She didn’t know how she had expected him to react, but she believed she could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. And she could feel all of her soften at the sight of that. An old habit she hadn’t managed to get rid of. It hadn’t been a problem that far, she rarely saw him feel anything. All she ever got was his cold facade.

He left his chair and walked over to the the windows, turning his back to her and looking down at the city below them instead. The whole wall was glass. He looked very small there, not at all like the CEO of one of Westeros’ largest companies that he was.

“If he really wants you, and I presume that he does, he will outdo whatever offer I make” he finally said. “I have nothing to give you that he can’t also give you.”

“Well, Sir, that’s true, but–“

“Ned” he sighed. “You don’t need to call me Sir.”

She knew his name. Saying it was easier than breathing. But she had chosen not to use it in professional situations for so long. She remembered the surprise in their coworkers eyes when they had got to know about their divorce. “I thought Dorne would freeze over before those two went separate ways” she had overheard Maege saying to Jon Umber a few hours later, and he had nodded in agreement. Once she had also thought that. But things had changed, she was wiser than she had been then.

She stood up too, even though she didn’t really know why. It felt better to be on the same level as him.

“So you don’t have a reason for me to stay, Ned?”

She almost wished she had a reason to stay. And she almost wished he would have given her that reason.

“No. I will let you leave, because that’s what you want.”

Yes. Yes, that was what she wanted. Right? Whatever doubts she had had earlier meant nothing, she would do it.

He turned to look at her. And she looked back at him, not knowing what to say. What did you say to the person you had loved for so many years when you left them in yet another way? They had separated, and now she was leaving the company they had built together.

“I would have liked you to stay though” he said. “The stocks will take a dive the moment people get to know you’re leaving.”

That made her laugh.

“Is that the only reason for why you want me to stay? The stocks? Are you worried about what the tabloids are going to write too?”

Was there nothing else? Was that all she was? An asset to the company? Had he cut every tie there was? How had he managed to that when she had been unable to?

He came over to her and suddenly he was very close. She laid her hands on his chest, turning her face downwards. She should have pushed him away, that was the reasonable thing to do. He wasn’t her husband, they went separate ways. But there he was, his body close to hers, and she found that she wished they hadn’t divorced.

He had to feel it too, why else was he so close? He wouldn’t seduce her into keeping her job, he wasn’t the type of person to do that. There had to be more to it.

“Is this your offer?” she said, almost breathless.

Edmure couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t give her Ned back.

“Do you want it to be?”

Of course she had played with the thought of being with him. She had played with the thought of what would happen if she kissed him, what would happen if she allowed herself to get as close to him as she was in that moment. Sometimes during her lonely nights she had even thought that she would marry him again someday, when they were in better places. And she had missed him.

Instead of answering she turned her face up and kissed him. For the first time in more than two years she kissed him. Before she knew it she had moved her hands up into his hair and he had wrapped his arms around her, pressing them against each other. It was like they had never been apart. He kissed her back like they were still married. She had longed for that, she had longed for him. She smiled against his lips when she felt how one of his hands removed the clip holding her hair into place. The gesture was as familiar as her home.

She realized they were moving when she hit the chair she had previously sat in. She would have tripped and fell if he had not held her. The chair, having no one to hold it, fell over, but they took no notice of it, making their way towards the couch placed along one of the walls. When the back of her knees hit it she pulled him down with her, not wanting him to part from him even for a second. She wrapped a leg around his waist, trying to get him even closer

But against her wishes he broke away from her, leaving her gasping for air.

“Oh no” he muttered, shaking his head. “No.”

She felt somewhat disgruntled. Was he going to leave her there? Laid back on the couch with ruffled hair and clothes, her skirt almost up at her hips. She had given herself to him, had thought it went both ways. Apparently it didn’t.

She tried to keep her feelings from showing on her face. He would probably see it no matter how hard she tried, he knew her too well.

“Okay, then, Mr. Stark” she said as she readjusted her skirt and found her feet. “I will hand in my letter of resignation before the week is over.”

She had just made out with her ex-husband. For no apparent reason. Well, there was an apparent reason. She still loved him.

He grabbed her hand before she could walk over and take her clip on the floor next to the fallen chair.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sighed and put a smile on her face

“It’s fine, Ned, you don’t have to want me. We’re not married, we’re not together. We can pretend this never happened, it was a mistake anyway. Right?”

That was where he should have agreed. It had been a mistake, making out with your ex was always a mistake. She should have just told him, she shouldn’t have let it go that far.

“Catelyn, listen to me for a moment.”

She did go quiet then, but she let go of his hand.

“I would like to try, if you want that” he said calmly. “Because I think we can have something good again. That is my offer. Not that you have to stay at the company for that, but I would like you to. I just don’t think that having sex in the office with the door unlocked is a good way to start.”

“Gods be good, look at you being the voice of reason” Catelyn chuckled.

Ned allowed himself a smile.

“I’m a changed man.”

She walked over and took up her clip, holding it up.

“Not too changed though” she said as she twisted her hair up. “You’re still very much recognizable.”

She fastened the clip and made sure it held her hair into place.

“Old habits die hard.”

“They do” she agreed, very much still feeling the effects of their little session.

She had not slept with a single person since they split up. She had briefly considered dating, but it hadn’t been possible with the kids and work. Well, she only had them every other week, but she had no energy for meeting people on the weeks when she was alone. Taking interest in someone, loving them, had been a lot easier when she had that person in her home. In her bed and at her dinner table. She missed having someone to love with her every night. No, she missed having him with her every night.

She wondered if he had done the same. If he hadn’t she couldn’t fault him for it, they were divorced and he had the right to have sex with whoever he wanted.

“I won’t tell my brother no yet” she said. “I’ll wait a bit. But as of right now your offer is one I find myself unable to refuse.”

She would regret it. If she stayed and it all fell apart she would probably regret it. She liked her job, but she didn’t know if she could through having to see him every day while being heartbroken again.

“So how do we proceed from here?” he asked.

That was a relevant question. Did they start over completely with dates and all that? Well, they couldn’t just go back to how it had been before, but it was hard when they already knew each other so well. They had been married for thirteen years.

“I don’t know, but I guess we do it one thing at a time.”

She would have to promise herself not to be too disappointed if it didn’t work out. They had divorced for a reason, after all. Chances were she would only get reminded of those reasons and nothing else.

“So can I ask you to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiled. No matter what the future held it could be fun for a while.

“Yeah, you can ask me out for dinner.”

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my drabble #here’s a drabble that’s way too long to be a drabble #have fun #i really should write more drabbles #i haven't done one in so long and i have many requests just waiting in my inbox #i have another one finished tho so im gonna post it tomorrow #its connected with this one it'll be great

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leham-n-daavocado · 3 years

Text

Formula 1: Drive to Survive, S1:E10 "Crossing the Line"

So the last episode of season one is here! This episode recaps the arcs of this season and prepares us for the next.

We start off with Red Bull and Max Verstappen. F1 journalists are just soooo rude and nasty. Like who goes, "Why do you crash all the time?" That being said, they do love painting Max like a villain when he fights back. However, he does have the tantrums and says the questionable things. Like Brazil with Esteban.

Red Bull is really a team of great contrasts, Max's first half was terrible, but his second half was excellent. Daniel started off a title contender and then DNF'd off a cliff in his cursed car. (Maybe that car feeds off of the love Red Bull has for its driver and can't function when its driver is being neglected?) Funnily enough, DTS only hints at all the trouble Daniel had that season. I remember the first time I heard that he DNF'd eight times that season and just being like whhhhhaaaaat!? O.o

Nico getting shunted by Romain was insane. I'm hanging here like a cow is iconic though.

The team dynamic of Red Bull in this race is interesting and portrayed unfavourably, but doesn't really get into the fact that their third place standing is secure, a third and fourth place finish is excellent for them, they want Max to get third in the championship and Daniel was always gonna get shafted because he'd left. The only way he would've gotten a podium was if Max didn't have any chance of getting one.

The contrast in racecraft between Max and Daniel though...Max makes all this rough contact as he passes while Daniel just makes these smooth, precise moves. Funnily enough, they both pass Bottas... because of course they do.

That team principals press conference with Christian snipping at Cyril and vice versa is hilarious because everyone else looks like they're being held hostage by a quarrelling divorced couple. Like Christian totally tries to belittle Cyril with that tea making comment. Cyril is the mom who got the house and the custody agreement of the child who dad thought would choose him. I just imagine Vikings and Bjorn choosing Lagertha over Ragnar for "No! I'm choosing mom!" drama.

It's kinda sad for Fernando to be fighting Williams for a single point, but his attitude is repelling despite his frustration.

It's fun to see Lando, but it's too bad they don't show him at all next season after setting him up. I kinda like his ability to throw it back at the shitty media.

With Haas, it's kinda bittersweet for me because I remember when I still liked them and the underdog story, but the more I watch DTS, the more I can't help but see how problematic Guenther is.

I really like how they set up the new season. As much as Christian is a Bond villain, he's just so good at setting the scene. I have a crazy love- hate relationship with Red Bull. I love their PR (especially with Max and Daniel), I loved their drivers (Daniel, Pierre, Alex, Max's ability to challenge Lewis), I enjoy their ethos and their audacity to be an energy drink company that's good at F1, their mechanics are top notch...etc. I really loved both them and Mercedes, but the way the whole Alex thing went down was the final straw for me and it really became hate. And I realized what I loved was Red Bull Daniel because he just so embodies everything Red Bull is about with his daring, humour and charm and it just fit so perfectly. But I don't miss Daniel at Red Bull.

I always love their closing clips of driver and team principal interviews each season. They're so amusing. I love the contrast between the older and younger drivers. And somehow Daniel with his youthful demeanor is an older driver.

Rating: 8/10

The interview clips at the end is the best part of the episode. It's a summary, so it's harder to care about some story elements. The Red Bull drama just felt tired at this point but it's nice to see Daniel.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula 1: drive to survive #netflix #crossing the line #red bull racing #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #christian horner #renault #nico hulkenberg #cyril abiteboul #mclaren #fernando alonso #lando norris

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oneboxofmatches · 3 years

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Hi!!! May I request a HP romantic and friendship matchup on both eras? (Preferably male), thanks in advance! 💞

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, Ravenclaw, and my patronus spirit is swan. Bi Pan Genderfluid girl using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. A friend of mine told me that I (kinda) look like Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲 (a Netflix animated series), but the exception is I'm short (5'1.2") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has messy/wavy brunette medium hair, chocolate brown eyes, oriental skin and a small beauty mark on the forehead. My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant and shy at first cause' I dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis, talkative, awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY clumsy, secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over any wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, sarcastic person with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no. 1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), and will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

People thought I'm a demure self-effacing woman that looks "idealistic" or "one of a kind," (due to my protective parents, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, I'm eloquent, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic crybaby filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone, yet I still managed to be stronger than ever, even it's a slow burn process. I can be intimidating, sassy, and a douchebag if I receive ends. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, very indecisive, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive or I might break a belonging due to my carelessness). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic person, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams) 𝖺𝗇𝖽 what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Blunt but the loudest idiotic feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will act like a silent backstabber on people that we loathe, will crack up over your stupid antics before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic who tends to banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment (but gets grumpy if I received sappy or offensive one), still generous and concerned in a subtle way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. 𝖨'𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾 making corniest jokes/puns, 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD).

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, eating a lot, cartoons, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and writings, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity and worse scenarios in real life, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some are too hypocritical.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, and oratorical skills...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader). Currently an incoming college freshman, learning how to cook and have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

Thank you so, so much for requesting! I had a lot of fun with this one (as you can tell by some of the really long answers lol) and I hope you enjoy!!

In the Golden Trio era, I romantically pair you with…

CEDRIC DIGGORY

One of the most beautiful things about Cedric is that although he may show some introverted tendencies, he still manages to have a natural gift for connecting to others and allowing them to feel comfortable enough to open up. Really, your initial distance and shyness don't last nearly as long towards Cedric as they would with most other people.

Hearing your laughter brings the widest, cheesiest grin to Cedric’s face. Not only does he adore seeing you happy, but he also recognizes that your anxiety, insecurities, and strong emotions can sometimes cloud up your demeanor. Therefore, it brings him comfort knowing that (for the moment) you’re finding joy. He thrives when you thrive!

However, as much as he loves seeing your more energetic and happier self, it goes without saying that he’s the best comfort for when you’re not having the best day.

Cedric is an excellent listener, so he’ll most likely let you talk without interruption for as long as you need before even saying a word. He wants to make sure he truly understands your current state before acting. He may take a few seconds to process everything after you finish speaking, but then he’ll help you tackle whatever problems you’re facing. He’s especially talented at giving words of affirmation.

Cedric’s listening also comes in handy whenever you talk about your interests! He genuinely loves hearing about the things you’re interested in solely for the fact that you’re interested in them. Side note: you can count on him to be at any music performances, pageants, etc. you may have -- this guy is truly your #1 supporter.

Cedric’s a very good student (though I suspect he’s somewhat of a procrastinator himself), so I can also see you two supporting each other through schoolwork and celebrating each other’s successes.

Like you, Cedric has a strong urge to do the right thing. Talking to him about social issues stirs up a need to help, and I could see you two doing volunteer work together in your spare time.

I like to believe one of Cedric’s biggest love languages is quality time. Don’t get me wrong, this guy loves staying involved and busy. But taking a couple hours to be with you in small ways (even if that means just being in the same room while you scroll through social media) gives him a nice balance.

Overall, this kind boy will be there unwaveringly through the bad times and will laugh just as loud as you through the good!

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LUNA LOVEGOOD

You wanna talk about the best conversations, relentless support, and overall the most wholesome friendship you could ask for? Luna’s your girl.

Being unashamed to be true to yourself is one of the biggest reasons why Luna is so drawn to you. While she’s very friendly and insightful towards everyone she meets, it can get a bit repetitive for her to constantly interact with people who try to shelter their unique characteristics from the world. In her mind, these unique characteristics are what make people so fascinating! Why should anyone hide who they are?

Luna’s creativity is endless, and I can see it blending well with yours. Collaborating on a personal project outside of school (ex: novel, blog, etc.) together is definitely something I could see you two doing.

Speaking of creativity, finding creative solutions to everyday problems (both in school and in life) is your specialty as friends.

Admittedly, Luna isn’t usually drawn to louder individuals. However, the complexity behind your personality makes it easier for her to know you are much more than what meets the eye.

Speaking of, Luna has a difficult time standing up for herself -- whether it’s because she doesn’t feel a need to or she just doesn’t recognize the meaning behind certain phrases. She NEEDS a friend like you to stand up for her sometimes, and I know you wouldn’t hesitate!

Ranting to Luna is therapeutic to say the least. While her aloofness at times may make it seem as if she isn’t fully paying attention, that couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s actually catching every word, and once you’re done she’ll leave you with a philosophical solution that may seem borderline insane/irrelevant when you first hear it, but it strangely makes sense.

Overall, the lack of judgment from either of you is what draws you together. As a result, you build a unique bond that couldn’t be broken even if either of you wanted it to.

In the Marauders era, I romantically pair you with…

REMUS LUPIN

Let’s be honest, it would take you two so long to ask each other out. You were probably already really close friends, but the insecurities and “what if?” questions from both of you delayed an actual relationship.

When you finally started dating, you were both so relieved. You still share a laugh at how almost nothing changed in the way you interacted with each other.

While with mutual friends, Remus sometimes likes to sit back and just watch you, especially when you get really talkative because this is when you become the most expressive. He has the softest smile when you’re actively cracking jokes, discussing something you’re passionate about, or even calling someone out. Sometimes you may be too distracted to notice, but other times you’ll catch him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” (While that same soft smile never leaves his face.)

You both hold really high standards for yourself in terms of school, so expect late-night study/work sessions to be your best bet for quality time.

Though the occasional instance of walking through/lying on the grounds becomes a favorite for both of you.

Remus listens when you’re particularly struggling through anxiety or strong emotions, but he has to consciously stop himself from interrupting because he can’t stand how he feels knowing you’re going through a tough time.

All he wants to do is soothe you during these moments. If you’re comfortable, he’ll hold you while speaking to you in a soft voice. Remus, the intellectual that he is, is also your best chance at finding a reasonable solution. So if you're not in the mood for calming words, he's also a great person to turn to for answers.

As for your ambitions, no matter what you choose to pursue, you already know Remus is going to be your biggest source of support every step of the way. He’s more than happy to help in any way he can!

Overall, Remus appreciates you, and he’s always going to make sure you know it.

As a friend, I think you’d best be matched with…

LILY EVANS

Lily especially connects to you because you manage to be determined, competitive, and intelligent without sacrificing your kindness, which is something she can relate to.

You and Lily are the C.E.O.s of doing the right thing. Neither of you hesitates to back the other up when it comes to confronting someone because you know it’s justified.

As perceptive as Lily is, you never need to tell her when something is bothering you. All it takes is a quick glance before she puts whatever she’s doing on hold to check in with you.

The reverse works as well. Typically, Lily really doesn’t internally struggle too much, and when she does she tries to hide it. You’re one of the only people who can see right through whatever she tries to pull.

The constant banter between you two is unmatched, but you both know it's because you really care about each other.

Overall, you and Lily have each other’s backs through anything, even when the other isn’t actively asking for help.

#matchups #fandom matchups #harry potter matchup #harry potter #cedric diggory #luna lovegood #remus lupin #lily evans #lily potter

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