#if I publicly shame myself I will never mess up again right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arcadialedger · 3 years

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Please note that I am most likely leaving this platform. I am done being abused. But first? We need to have a discussion. A discussion about hate and bullying in fandom.

All online-- I encourage you to read my story below. Reblog and spread awareness. The Dragon Prince fandom especially -- I implore you read my words, every single one of them. The short of it is that I am done.

This all began with losing and being blocked by a friend because I shared something they disagreed with. I don’t care what you feel about my initial reaction to this (which I’ll explain below) -- I’ve apologized for not handling the situation correctly. But I will not be shamed for speaking my mind and standing up for myself.

Because no human being deserves to go through what I have endured since last summer.

Following the “callout” post made about me by one of, if not the largest blogs in this fandom, I received hundreds of threats, harassment messages, and death threats. Messages and posts telling me to kill myself were also prominent, on a multiple times a week basis for awhile.

Messages from people who were well aware I have struggled with being suicidal. Due to one of their favorite Dragon Prince blogs speaking out against me, they thought it was okay to suicide bait me.

And it worked. I already struggle with hating myself, am already insecure, and being flooded with these comments which, while I made mistakes, did nothing to deserve, drove me to try and take my own life after years of progress in my mental health.

Mind you, this is like a 200 follower to 4k follower power dynamic. Which yes, plays a role-- because when you have a large following and influence, you have power. Yet the person behind this had the gall to claim Tumblr clout isn’t real.

People blocking and condemning others instantly at your word? Is power. If people read your words and are influenced, or have their minds changed, or buy or don’t buy something, etc.-- you are an influencer. You have power. And when you’re one of the largest blogs in a fandom, you have a LOT of power.

So take responsibility.

I was hurt because I lost a friend who I had chatted with for months, did a podcast with, and was generally not only one of my favorite blogs but the center of my experience in the Dragon Prince. I may not have been perfect in my words, but when I was asked why I was quiet/ inactive, I explained how I was hurting, anonymously. I was understandably in pain and upset. I had been cut off for just having a different opinion on a matter, for thinking differently. Even though it was within their rights to block and do so, it felt wrong and it weighed on me.

Is that such a crime?

The callout post and previously described abuse followed, lasting for months until later in the year (this began in June, or around then). It also included screenshots of tweets, when this user does not have Tumblr, and they have stated to have screenshots stored up on their computer of my various posts and interactions. This is creepy behavior, and freaked me out. I felt like I was being stalked, “evidence” being filed away for the very purpose of being used against me.

I eventually talked things out with the blog per recommendation of my therapist, and thought all would be fine. For a little while, it was. I largely stayed off of Tumblr to heal. Once in awhile I would have a rough, tearful night because something reminded me of what I lost, but I would make it through. Overall, I was making progress.

Then? My Twitter got hacked by one of the people sending me hate. For what had turned out to be much. And after they tweeted some purposefully incriminating and bigoted things to make me look bad, I came home from a weekend in the mountains to a shitstorm.

Twitter has a love hate relationship for me and I barely opened the app unless actively chatting with a friend. So when I saw 700+ notifications, I was surprised. It had never happened before.

I began to scroll through, and when I saw what had happened, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

I had lost over half of my followers and a solid 60% of previous Twitter mutuals had blocked me. But worst of all, I had hundreds of hate tweets directed at me replying to the hackers tweets. Messages had been sent in DMs and accounts blocked, followed, and unfollowed as well.

If you have never felt that loss of agency-- that sickening feeling of words you never said next to your profile-- be glad. Because it is traumatic. I value my words. I value what I have to say. And having that taken from me was worse than anything I had been through here on Tumblr, outside of the suicide baiting (the most direct attack to me and my emotions/ insecurities throughout this entire ordeal). Further, this hacker had clearly stalked my tweets based on some of their comments.

Hundreds of tweets bashing me, calling me aphobic slurs (knowing I am asexual mind you, as it was in my bio), making fun of my appearance and targeting all of the insecurities which lead to my first suicide attempt in high school, and taking/ editing images of my face and mocking them. This all culminated in a doxing threat-- a doxing threat which made me feel unsafe on a campus I had already been sexually assaulted on. I was once again, after starting the healing process, thrusted back into the darkest time of my life and spiraled into anxiety and depression. I cried a lot overwhelmed by it all, had difficulty sleeping, and felt sick. I started fall semester and couldn’t concentrate on school. I was a mess.

I had once again been condemned, this time for something I had no part in. I tried to example what happened but nobody listened. I had been hung without trial. People were understandably confused, and my entire reputation on the platform, and my page, became a mess of lies, misunderstandings, and more.

If you don’t know the feeling of already hating yourself and being insecure, and having these beliefs reinforced and spread by hundreds publicly across the internet? Of already feeling lonely and unwanted and having the one space you thought you had taken from you? Consider yourself lucky.

I had a lot of voice actors and creators following me-- accounts I interacted and greatly cherished my mutual with. A handful of them unfollowed, understandably. This online hate mob was sending messages to people demanding they unfollow me, including some of these creators. They had no idea what to make of this mess or what was real and true and just didn’t want to deal with it. Most of the others just stopped interacting with me. @aaronwaltke (tagging so those who don’t follow already click and do so, because he is absolutely fantastic-- he’s a writer for ToA) who had followed me on the platform, graciously wished me peace with the entire situation after I checked to make sure he had not been subjected to messages or hate, either from my hacker or other accounts. His was the greatest compassion I got on Twitter, before I ultimately ended up just having to delete.

I lost podcast deals because of this with Adrian Petriw, Aaron Ehasz, and Justin Richmond. I do not blame them one bit and would have done the same in the confusion not wanting to get dragged into anything.

Only to have one of the friends I lost who helped start this interview these very people on their own podcasts. A slap in the face. A zine I had bought to support them came to my door, with the front page proclaiming to “spread a narrative of love.”

I was never granted that chance. That compassion. I had the vultures sent after me with no mercy. And anyone who has been through online abuse and systemic harassment knows just how much it feels like they’re slowly but surely picking at your flesh ( a metaphor I used in one of my old, since deleted posts discussing the situation, and still find accurate), wearing you down until you have no strength left.

Make no mistake, my story is not a one off situation. Many share the same tale of abuse and being driven off of platforms that once gave them great joy. These attacks are coordinated, systemic, and common hobby for these people-- who largely claim to be loving and accepting of all. They are a cyberbullying phenomenon which has risen with the presence of fandom on the internet. And I want to make clear, with current discussions of “cancel culture”, I mean nothing political in that statement. Some might call my experience cancel culture, but I don’t.

It’s just bullying. It’s just hate. These people get off on ruining people’s lives.

And my life was greatly set back and ruined. I had a stain on my past in fandom I could never be rid of. I had to shut down my podcast, took time off of all social media, and most of what I had built, most of my growth, was taken from me while those who incited and/ or spread hate thrived and continued to grow and find success. That was the greatest sting of all.

I asked the one previous friend who hadn’t blocked me, but had just stopped interacting with me (which I understood and respected, and also greatly respected her perspective, help, and support though this situation in which she largely unfortunately ended up in the middle) for help after explaining everything, and got nothing. They didn’t seem to care, and just blocked me on all platforms. Once in awhile, I would find I was cut off from yet another old friend, or a blog that I had never interacted with before but clicked into, interested. It hurt being cut off, unable to fully interact with the fandom, but I could move on.

That pain would never go away, but I made clear I did not blame them for the actions of those who abused, harassed, and threatened me. I also made it clear they did not owe me anything, including unblocking.

I just wanted to move on peacefully, but those with the power to enable that did not wish to help. I slowly, when I felt ready, began to be more active on Tumblr again, and once again the hate started up.

Sometimes when I was hurting, I expressed my pain and loss to my followers just to reach out, because I was sad. I had no idea how to rebuild from all that had happened. This got me more hate an accusations of emotional manipulation and gaslighting. I had no idea what to do, and got trapped in a cycle of needing to talk about it, and getting hate and backlash, but not knowing where else I could turn.

My doxer came back into my asks, ultimately making me switch schools, and refueled the drama. Speaking up about this got me more backlash-- mostly accounts reblogging (one with tags saying “fuck you”, despite not knowing the full story, and commenting and then blocking me so I could do nothing to respond or get it off of my page. I deleted all posts of the matter, as requested by these people (who validly pointed out they were in the main fandom tags, which I hadn’t thought of and understood), and hoped to move on.

But it hasn’t stopped. I have been beaten down and emotionally bruised for months. I have had my life and safety threatened, my education and by extension life path altered, and lost work (podcast) opportunities due to this-- alongside the irreversible emotional damage from trauma and abuse. My mental health issues and insecurities-- which I have been very open about to destigmatize the subjects and encourage conversation-- were actively targeted to inflict the most pain possible.

And I can’t even talk about it, without enduring more hate and accusations of “playing the victim”.

Death threats, suicide baiting, doxing, months of bullying and harassment to the most vile degree, which a lot of these people don’t know about because they don’t even bother to read my words. Yet I’m playing the victim.

And the accusations of bigotry and being hateful hurt, because it couldn’t be further from what is in my heart. I believing in love and acceptance of all. I don’t know how many are religious here, but I found God after my first suicide attempt and that is what his word has taught me.

I’ve been through too much in life to tolerate this, for lack of a more eloquent term, bullshit. I know what abuse and victim blaming looks like when I see it. And in my 20 years of life, I have gone through too much: constant ridicule and bullying, suicide attempts, sexual assault, major spinal surgery, to just be stomped over and not stand up for my right to basis human decency.

I refuse to put up with this, so unless I get an apology and some semblance of justice for everything I have been through, I am leaving. I will not participate in a space run by hate and toxicity. I will never claim to be perfect, and I have apologized for my mistakes and wrongdoings. Now, hold those who did this accountable. If you’re reading this you know very well who it was, and I am not naming them for those who don’t. Because at the end of the day I still send nothing but love and wish no ill will towards them.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t expect accountability of one of the greatest influencers in the fandom for their complacency in abuse, threats, suicide baiting, and and absolute ruining of my life and online experience. They enabled this and were well aware they had the power to stop it-- to ask their followers to stop-- and did nothing. They didn’t care-- about a human’s life and well being.

@dragonprinceofficial, are you aware that this is what many of the fans of your show, which preaches love and an end to the cycle of vengeance, do to others? That this is happening in your space? If you stand at all by the values you preach, condemn it. @staffTumblr/ @supportTumblr-- shame on you for allowing this abuse to happen and ignoring my reports. Shame on you for permitting these people to operate in your platform and for being okay with hosting hate. People have been driven to suicide on your website-- I am one of the lucky ones.

If you care at all about humanity and stand against this behavior, reblog and spread awareness. Share my story so I may not happen to anyone else. Tag @dragonprinceofficial until they notice and speak out.

This is my story, and so many others. Make sure it doesn’t happen ever again. No human being deserves to be treated how I was. Everyone deserves compassion, decency, and respect. And everyone deserves a place in fandom. Do better. If you want to reach out to me DMs are open, as well as my email, which is attached to my account. Until this change happens and I am given the support/ help needed to safely function on this platform, this blog will not be active outside of that.

Thank you all of the many accounts who have supported me, and I am working on getting back to all who have reached out! Your love means the world. You know who you are, and I don’t want to tag in case people come after you for showing me kindness. I am sorry if this is goodbye, to all that have enjoyed my blog. I enjoyed it for a long time too. I loved sharing my passion for stories, culture, having a space where I could analyze and discuss my favorite things. I loved getting to share what I had to offer with the world, having fun and posting jokes with my unique sense of humor. I loved interacting with intelligent people/ fellow fans and discussing my favorite stories, offering each other new insights and growing together. I loved the many, many kind and wonderful people who reached out to me in a variety of ways and provided support and friendship.

In the end, it just isn’t worth all of this pain and trauma, and I know when to put my foot down. I don’t want pity, I don’t want apologizes, and I’m not a martyr. I just want my story to make a difference-- to spur positive change in fandom culture/ spaces. I will be tagging all fandoms in which I have seen this kind of abuse present as well, to reach as many as possible.

Be safe, and be kind.

- The Arcadia Ledger/ Ryn/ Katie, signing off.

154 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

IMAGINE Javi saying one of his many fuck mes and you (a shy secretary that tries to stay out of everyone’s way and blushes anytime Javi or Steve talks to you and Javi has thought you cute but usually forgets about you until today) hear him and say gladly under your breath. He overhears and flirts with you the rest of the day till he takes you at work

I got…a little carried away. Oops? Enjoy 😏 (PS -18+ only!)

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sighed lightly as you typed away, the clicking of the aging type writer keys starting to get to you. But it was better than nothing; besides the ticking of the clock, it was the only sound keeping you company. It was a slow day and for once there wasn’t much to occupy your time, so you had resorted to doing the menial paperwork you’d been putting off. You swore it made the time go by slower. Positive it must have been nearing five, or it surely should have been anyway, you allowed yourself to glance up.

A long groan immediately escaped your lips as you saw that it had been only about fifteen minutes since the last time you checked the clock. Impossible, you sighed internally, something must be wrong with it. Checking the fine gold watch on your wrist, you let out an even louder groan when you realized that it displayed the same time as the wall clock. This place had to be cursed or something.

Maybe you could sneak out early today and go for a walk…or something. It was a beautiful, sunny, perfectly warm day, and it felt like a shame to remain indoors doing practically nothing. But you knew that you’d never be allowed to leave early in case an important call came through. As if. The phone hadn’t rang a single time today.

But just before you could turn back to your paperwork, the sound of annoyed voices and quickly shuffling feet met your ears. You perked up at the sound, excited at the possibility of seeing some people today. Yeah, it had been a really boring day, and you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of many people. You stopped typing and trying to discern the voices as they neared.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Murphy,” ah yes, the unmistakable, annoyed tones of one Javier Pena, “she’s out of her damn mind.”

“We have to do this her way for once, Javi,” Steve’s exasperated response made you want to giggle, “we’ve got at least try and stay on her good side.”

“Fuck,” Javier seemed beyond annoyed as they rounded the corner and came into your view. You gave them both a small smile as they turned to walk into their shared office space. They’d been out doing field work for most of the day, and you were glad to have them back. They provided some form of amusement anyway, and listening to them bicker like children was fun at times, especially when they asked to settle things for them and pick a side.

“Hey,” they both turned to give you a wave as you repeated the gesture before dropping your head as a blush crept into your cheeks. There was always something about the way Javier’s dark eyes raked over you that made you feel like a giddy school girl.

Steve struggled with opening the door and Javier was clearly impatient as he watched his partner. He ran a hand over his tired face before letting out loud, “fuck me!”

You were biting on your bottom lip so hard to keep from giggling out loud, sure you would draw blood at any second. Instead you intently stared at the keys, but before you could knew what was happening or you could manage to stop yourself, you whispered, “gladly. Any day.”

Freezing in horror as you realized what you had done, your eyes widened as you glanced up to see if either of them had overheard you. It had meant to be a completely internal monologue with yourself, but somehow…fate, or whatever you wanted to call it, had a different idea. If Steve or Javi had overheard you, they didn’t indicate that anything had happened. Instead, Steve had finally managed to open the door and they went inside. Letting out a sigh of relief, you were sure that you were in the clear. It couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, probably inaudible to anyone but yourself.

But it wasn’t. Oh no. Javier was astute as ever, and he had impeccable hearing. He heard you loud and clear, a little smirk working its way onto his face at your words. But he played it off, knowing that it hadn’t been intentional. No; you were much too sweet and demure to have ever said something like publicly. But now he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Who would have thought?

»»————-　♡　————-««

As the dull morning turned into the afternoon, you thought you were going delirious from the monotony. But a figure soon cast a shadow over your work, and you looked up slowly, hoping it wouldn’t be the ambassador or anything. To your surprise and internal delight, it had turned out to be Javier. You gave him a small smile as you leaned back in your chair, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do you want to go and get a coffee?” he asked as he perched himself on the edge of your desk, waiting you closely. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long…but it was hard. Especially when he was wearing his tightest jeans and that damned pink button up.

“A coffee?” you repeated as he nodded. You knew what he meant, but decided to play dumb, feeling an odd rush of courage flood through your veins, “I’m perfectly fine to go and walk into the kitchen and get myself some of this gourmet bean water.”

“You know what I mean,” he smirked as he gave your long cold coffee from this morning a dismal once over, “you really gonna finish that?”

“As if,” you joked, pushing it a little further away from you, “what? Is Murphy too busy to be your date?”

“I don’t know,” he asked, taking a look back into his office briefly, “didn’t ask.”

“Oh?”

“That’s because I’m asking you,” he raised an eyebrow at you and you swore you could easily melt in your seat. Why did he have to have this type of effect on you, “don’t really care about him right now. So, what do you say?”

“Right now?”

“Of course,” he laughed, “I don’t get the impression that you’re terribly immersed in your work right now. We can’t get out for a little bit…go for a walk. A shame to waste to a beautiful day inside, no?”

“I-”

“You’re not going to miss anything. I guarantee it.”

“But-”

“It’s just a coffee, hermosa, it’s not a lifetime commitment.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” he posed as you let out an exasperated sigh. He wouldn’t let this go, of course he wouldn’t. He gave you such a sweet look, that you just knew he knew that you wouldn’t say no. But…this was Javier. Should you really trust him? You did, fully…but should you?

“Okay,” you agreed, trying to fight off the smile that was threatening to break your face. Javier slid of your desk and beckoned for you to follow, “wait? Right now?”

“No time like the present,” he insisted as you stood up and followed him, shaking your head in amusement. You reached for your purse but he shook his head, “don’t bother.”

“Why? It’s not like this is a date.”

“It can be whatever you want,” always so cryptic with his responses, and aloof. You weren’t sure how to respond, not wanting to make more of this than it was. But then again…what did you want it to be? Before overthinking it, you tucked your purse back inside your drawer and stepped around to follow him, “new dress?”

“I..yeah…how did you…?”

“I like it,” he gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you weren’t sure if you were glad you wore the new dress or loathing yourself. It had been a warm morning, and the office didn’t exactly have the best cooling system, so you had worn it mostly to not become a sweat soaked mess, but this…wasn’t so bad either. You had wondered at first if it was even work appropriate, thinking it might have shown a little too much cleavage. Maybe it was just right after all, “the color suits you.”

“Thanks Javi,” you started to head out, hoping he didn’t see the flush of your cheeks as you bowed your head. He noticed. He most definitely noticed. But what neither of you noticed was Steve from inside the office, still stuck on a call and waving wildly at you guys as you just walked away. Javier hadn’t mentioned a word to him. Oops. Steve closed his eyes and sighed as he sat back down. Typical Javi.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Coffee and a walk with Javier ended up being…pleasant, fun even. He was ever the gentleman, paying for your coffee (and dessert) making you laugh the entire time. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had smiled so much; he couldn’t either. He ended up suggesting a walk in one of his favorite spots in the city, a hidden little gem that you’d never seen before. It was a beautiful escape from the hustle of the city, a lush green little escape.

He ended up doing most of the talking, which you didn’t mind one bit. You could have listened to him for hours with that warm, honeyed voice. It just…hit different. A few times his hand had brushed against yours and while it momentarily crossed your mind that you should take a step to the side to give him space, you didn’t do that. You kind of…liked the feeling of his rough hand against yours. He didn’t mind either; you knew all the brushes couldn’t have been accidental.

By the time you’d gotten back to the office, you were sad to end your little outing. To go back to the monotony of work after such a lovely time was surely a sin. But unfortunately, soon enough, you were back at your desk, eyes feeling like they were glazing over from boredom. When Javi had stepped back into his and Steve’s office, you immediately heard Steve start to give Javi the third degree. You couldn’t hold back the small bits of laughter that bubbled up at the two men. They were worse than children sometimes. Javier caught your eye and made a dramatic face as just shrugged your shoulders.

»»————-　♡　————-««

And so your week carried on, just as dull and dry as Monday had been. Surely it had to be the slowest and most painful week of your entire career in Colombia. It appeared that everyone, even the criminals on your radar had taken a siesta as soon as the first bits of spring weather hit.

The only reprieve from the boredom came in the form of…Javi. Not that Javi hadn’t been friendly with you before - on the contrary. He had always been kind to you, treating with respect and as a friend, not just some secretary. But this week things seemed different, even more friendly than normal. It wasn’t an unwelcome change by any means, but it caught you completely off guard.

You had a fresh cup of coffee, the real stuff not the weak instant stuff from the kitchen, and a pastry waiting for you every morning. No note was attached, but one wasn’t required. You knew it immediately it was from Javi; he always managed to catch your eye and gave you a wink whenever you got in.

It was almost like he made it a point to find a reason to step out of his office whenever he had a chance, always coming by your desk to make some comment to you. You knew he didn’t have to step out to go to the bathroom that often, that he didn’t need anything from the kitchen every hour, but you didn’t question it. It was nice to have someone to shoot the breeze with, instead of falling asleep.

Friday still rolled around slowly, and by the time noon had approached you were allowing yourself to feel slightly excited. Soon enough you’d be able to escape the office and go home and drink that bottle of wine you’d been saving all week. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was better than sitting around and being bored to tears.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Javier pulled you out of your little daydream and back in reality as he leaned over your desks, his face mere inches from yours. You tried not to completely lose at his close proximity, but it was hard to stare at his handsome face, or how good he smelled.

“Nothing,” you admitted sheepishly and he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to go on, “just thinking about how excited I am to get out of here and have the weekend off.”

“Oh? Exciting plans?” he asked and you almost burst into laughter.

“If by exciting plans you mean sitting on my couch and watching movies and drinking wine, then yes,” you answered with a shrug as he seemed to relax a little bit, a bit of tension leaving his face, “what about you? Any…exciting rendez-vous?”

“No,” he grimaced a little bit, and you wondered what was going on in his head, “but I was…do you want to go out tonight?”

“What?” your jaw dropped at his words. Surely you had heard him wrong. Surely he meant to ask someone other than you.

“Do you,” he pointed directly at you, “want to go out with me?”

“Ugh,” you started to panic a little bit as you realized what he was asking, “like…”

“A date,” he finished for you, a bit of amusement coloring his features, “I’ll break it down even further, hermosa, I, Javier, am asking you, Y/N, if you would like to go out to dinner tonight, as a date and not just friends.”

You were positive you were blushing like mad as you hid your face behind your hands. You didn’t know what you prompted this, or all the attention he had been showering you with this week, but it had warmed your soul. At first you thought it might be some sort of joke, or something, but you knew Javi would never do that. He was a better man than that. Javi let out a warm laugh at your sudden shyness, reaching for your hands and pulling them away from your face, giving you a curious glance as he anticipated your response. You bit your lip but nodded before quietly voicing your agreement, “yes…that sounds lovely.”

“Great,” he grinned at you, gently drumming his fingers along your desk, “it’s a date then. We can go when we’re off.”

“Aren’t you off later than I am?”

“I’m off whenever I want to be,” he was getting cheeky as he shot you a wink, “so I’ll be off whenever you are.”

“Whatever you say, Agent Peña,” you teased, “I’ll find you when I’m off.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was quickly interrupted by Steve shouting for him…again. It wasn’t lost on him at all how much Javier seemed to frequent your desk lately, making many more stops than possibly necessary. Normally he wouldn’t say anything, but for the first time all week, they actually had something to do.

“I’ll see you soon, hermosa,” it was more of a promise than a statement and he walked back in, already shaking his head at Steve. You let out a small sound of delight, only to yourself, as you turned your attention back to work. How were you possible going to focus on doing anything else when you actually had something to look forward to?

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time you were finished for the day, you gathered your things and looked for Javi. He was still in his office, on a call, an annoyed expression etched on his features. Steve on his way out, to which Javier only responded with him flipping him the bird. He gave you a wave on the way out and stood in the door way of their office, leaning against the door.

“Javi,” you called his name softly and he looked up at you, giving you a sorry look as he pointed at the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. You nodded in understanding and strolled over to him, sitting down on the edge of his desk, just as he’d done to you all week. His eyes widened in surprise, but a different kind of look soon worked its way onto his features.

You were wearing a dress again, similar to the one from earlier in the week; this one was purposely chosen, cherry picked to catch his eye. Which it had, causing him to almost break his neck as he did a double take when you arrived in the morning.

Swinging your legs back and forth, you waited for him to finish, unsure of how much longer he would take. But Javi had other plans, naturally. He put a hand your calf, causing you to falter your motions in surprise for a moment, before slowly bringing his hand up to your thigh, just under the soft fabric of your dress. At first his brashness surprised you, but then, what surprised you even more, was the fact that you didn’t want him to stop. Instead you placed your hand on top of his and slowly slid it further up your leg, bringing it closer and closer to your heat.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched, trying to make sure you knew what you were starting. You eyes never left his as you settled his hand at the apex of your thighs. You had no clue what suddenly possessed to be so bold. Here you were, in the open were anyone could walk in, shamelessly wanting Javi to touch you.

Javi slowly slipped your panties to the side, dragging a long finger through your folders, a wicked look crossing his features when he realized how wet you were already. For him. You rocked your hips slightly against his fingers, silently encouraging him to do more, to touch you as much as he wanted.

“I’ve ugh…I’ve got to go…something just came up,” he said suddenly as he practically slammed the phone back down on the receiver. You let out a soft sound as he added another finger and started touching your sensitive bundle of nerves, “you’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you joked as you gave him your best, innocent doe eyes. He made a small sound, akin to a growl as he pulled removed his fingers from you. You huffed lightly at the loss, a small sound escaping your lips. Quickly he placed his large hands on your hips, wasting no time in pulling you into his lap. You grinned up at him with a quickly little smile, “hello there.”

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” he asked as you put your hands on the sides of his face, tracing gently over his features, just like all the times you had imagined doing so in your wildest dreams. He watched you with curiosity, amazed by the combination of both your boldness and gentleness. He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “but also a gentle thing. What a combination.”

“Just like you,” you responded, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes to savor the moment. He rested a hand on your back, tracing aimless shapes and patterns onto your skin. You grinned slightly, “Javi.”

“I really want to go to dinner,” he said quietly, his lips brushing against yours, the tickle of his mustache making you grin, “but ugh…”

You shifted slightly in his lap, and knew exactly what he was referring as his hardness became evident. Unable to control yourself at all, you pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to his lips, “dinner can wait. How about dessert first?”

“Right here?” he almost choked on the words as you nodded. It was bold, even for him. But somehow the thrill of it all, the idea of being caught was enough to drive him wild. Slowly standing up, earning a low groan from him, you walked over to the door and closed it, locking it before closing the blinds.

“Don’t you want some dessert, Javi?”

#javier pena #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #reader insert #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #sigh #if only

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silvia7272 · 4 years

Text

ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

No one?

Too easy?

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

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maggiec70 · 3 years

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The Fictional Take on Jean-Claude

As I've said before, fiction often presents the opportunity to write really nest things and in an engaging way that non-fiction, especially the historical type, rarely allows. So here is yet another scene from the Longest-Running WIP, this one about Jean-Claude, and what Jean-Boy thinks of this entire mess for which he was responsible:

Mariana sat opposite Jean in a small paneled study tucked away at the rear of the house. The two south-facing windows stood open, midmorning sunlight falling across the country pine table, a faint breeze stirring the edges of papers spread out in front of him. While she went to Mass, Jean spent his Sunday mornings with account books and other documents. She knew how little his extravagant properties in Paris and Saint-Germain-en-Laye meant to him, and he cared nothing about their management. He’d bought them both at Louise’s insistence and the emperor’s decree, as he’d often reminded her. Yet his acres, vineyards, farms, and other properties here mattered very much. She had felt his deep-rooted attachment from the first day she’d come to Lectoure and walked into this house. For a long, peaceful moment broken only by the scratching of his pen and a dove cooing on the window ledge, she pictured Louise living luxuriously in Paris. In contrast, she and Jean lived here in simple bucolic harmony. A perfect dream—she and the seigneur of this lovely hill town, the lord of a small realm who didn’t care if he got dirt on his hands and his breeches and who could—and did—pick grapes with the best of his tenant farmers.

“I waited for you before having coffee,” Jean said, and her sweet fantasy popped like champagne bubbles. “How was Mass?”

“Spiritually refreshing, as always. You should go,” Mariana replied and rose to fetch the coffee. She returned a few moments later and set a tray on one end of the table, away from the inkpot and the account books. “I saw a young boy, perhaps a year or two older than Augie, after Mass,” she said, pouring the coffee from an earthenware pot and sliding a cup over to Jean. “He must live in that house across from the cathedral, the one with the three iron balls over the gate. He was playing with an enormous fluffy white dog in the courtyard.”

Jean set his cup aside, untouched, and gazed out the window. His face was suddenly as featureless as a frozen plain scoured by a cruel winter wind. “Nothing unusual about that. There are plenty of children from one end of town to the other. Plenty of dogs, too.” He spoke to the windows, not to her, and his tone was flat.

Mariana swallowed half her coffee and leaned forward, the cup cradled in her hands. “This boy looked so much like you that I stopped where I was and stared at him. He saw me and grinned back, as you sometimes do, with a little wave more like a salute. Who is he? Do you know him?”

Jean stood in a single fluid motion and strode to the windows, his back to her. The silence spun out, no longer peaceful but heavy with something she couldn’t identify. Dread, perhaps, or anger, even fear. She could almost see a dark aura settle around him despite the bright summer sun, and leaned back in her chair, coffee forgotten, everything forgotten. He turned from the windows and crossed to the door, shutting it so hard with his fist that the wood rattled in its solid frame. Dragging a chair around, he sat opposite her, very close, almost touching. She didn’t move, waiting for whatever he chose to tell her, the chill of unease growing in her breast.

“We won’t speak of this again, ever. Do you understand?”

She gazed back at him. The blank expression and flat, unemotional tone had gone. Now his eyes were dark, as stormy as the Irish Sea when she had crossed it eight years ago. The lines on his face cut deep and stark, his voice harsh. Suddenly she wanted her coffee, but the cup was out of reach, and she dared not move.

“I understand.” Her voice was no more than a dry whisper, the best she could manage.

“I told you once that Polette, my first wife, was a flirt and liked anyone in a uniform. Do you remember?”

“I remember.”

“She married me because of my rank, the amount of gold braid on my uniform, and because I told her a good story. She told good stories too, and so did her mother, as it turned out. Afterward, all Polette wanted was money, status, and a big house, the biggest in town. Our marriage was already in ruins when I met you. I told you that, but not in any detail. It didn’t improve later that summer, when she insisted on coming to Lombardy—” Her gasp interrupted him, but only for a second or so. “She got nothing from me then, Mariana, other than some jewelry and a gown or two to wear to Bonaparte’s festivities at Mombello. Nothing—do you understand that?”

When she nodded, past the ability to speak, he continued. “It ended in Egypt, or rather because of the Egyptian campaign. We didn’t get much news in the desert, but we got enough. Some member of Bonaparte’s family cheerfully wrote him of his wife’s presumed infidelity, and my brother Bernard wrote me that Polette had given birth. Bernard was cagy about the date, but he swore it wasn’t my child, that she’d been carrying on with someone even before I’d left. Several nights later, Bonaparte drank too much wine—he rarely did, then or now—and told me women were worthless, faithless sluts, and we both would do well to cut ourselves loose the moment we returned to France.”

Jean glanced away from her to the earthenware pot beside their abandoned cups, and reached for it. He poured quickly, his hand steady, and slid her cup toward her. He did not touch his. “This isn’t Bonaparte’s story, though. It’s mine. By the time I reached Toulon in October, I was outraged, and I hated Polette, truly despised her. I’d gotten another letter from Bernard, this one telling me my mother had died. He wrote that she’d been distraught over the erroneous report that I’d been killed at Saint-Jean d’Acre, and very upset with Polette’s behavior. So I went straight to Paris with Bonaparte and left the matter of the divorce to Bernard and Dominique Montbrun, an attorney here I’d known all my life. Montbrun was a snake, utterly ruthless and doubtless unethical, but he succeeded, and that’s all I cared about. He beat Polette down at every turn, playing on her naiveté, producing witnesses who swore they’d seen her at one time or another with every male in town over the age of sixteen. No one would believe a thing she said, even when she fought back and told the truth.”

He stopped and picked up his cup, draining it in two quick gulps. Mariana was surprised he didn’t choke. When he set the empty cup down, his hand shook badly. She didn’t move and didn’t speak. It was not the time to say anything. That much was evident in his eyes, still stormy, but something else hovered there too, something she didn’t recognize. Hands clasped in her lap, tighter now, she waited for him to tell her the rest of what was already a sordid story.

“I divorced her for adultery. That was easy, and I never regretted it for a moment. I still don’t, although I often wonder if the divorce was even legal. But I never took the final, separate action that would have declared her child a bastard, deprived him of my name, and any rights to whatever I owned or would own. Montbrun hounded me about that, so did Bernard and everyone else I knew. I didn’t listen to them, and I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it.”

She understood in a flash of painful clarity why he had not taken that final legal step. And now she recognized what had been swirling and growing stronger in his eyes—guilt, and shame. She clenched her hands tighter still and said nothing.

“Polette had traveled to Toulon before I left for Egypt, not because I wanted to see her but because she was her usual willful self. So there she was, saying she wanted to see me, be with me, before I left for what she described as the ends of the earth. I suppose the empty-headed daughter of a minor bank official from Perpignan did think Egypt was the end of the world.” He looked down, but there was nothing to see but their knees nearly touching and the tips of their shoes touching. Her nails, clipped short, dug into her palms, and every finger ached. She had no idea how she managed to breathe quietly, steadily, while at the same time, her heart lurched from side to side, and her mind raced in frantic circles.

“I slept with her, Mariana, somewhere north of Toulon, in a nondescript posthouse I don’t recall to this day. And not just once. I admit that to you now just as I admitted it to myself then. Yes, I could count. For selfish purposes, for wounded Gascon pride, for whatever pointless reasons you can imagine, I refused to acknowledge that child publicly because I hated his mother so much that I wanted to get rid of her at any cost. Because I knew the real possibility—the real probability—that the child was mine, I couldn’t sever that last legal tie. Now it’s too late.”

She forced herself to tamp down the emotions roiling up and clamoring to spill out in a loud and messy pile in her lap or his. She breathed steadily, certain that her nostrils were flaring like Odysseus’s did after a hard gallop, and struggled to keep her face calm, expressionless. Surely he could see what must be flashing in her eyes. If he did, he should run from it.

“Polette remarried a year or so later to a respectable and prosperous man who treats them both well. Jean-Claude has a step-father, two step-sisters, a step-brother, and a mother who dotes on him. He’s happy and cared for. He always has been, I believe.”

Mariana stood so quickly that her wooden chair rocked on its back legs and crashed to the floor. Stepping around it, she moved to the windows, where the warm breeze cooled the heat rising from her breast and up her neck to her cheeks. She unclenched her hands and flexed her fingers, not caring that her breath came in short, audible puffs.

“I was afraid you’d be upset—”

“Upset? Oh, yes, upset, and furious,” she replied, whirling around to face him. “Not for the reasons you think, you and your stupid male pride. I’m not angry because you had sex with your wife after you’d made all sorts of promises to me. I’m infuriated because you allowed Bonaparte to influence you—again—and poison your mind. You never stopped to think for yourself. You didn’t weigh what your brother said or what your lawyer did and come to your own conclusions. You let other people make intensely personal decisions for you. Worse, you never thought about how your dreadfully cavalier actions might affect other people, especially that little boy. That’s what makes me so furious with you. Sweet Mother of God, has Louise ever seen him?”

“She doesn’t know about Jean-Claude, and she’s never seen him.”

“That’s something to be grateful for, I suppose.” Mariana remained by the window, thumbs hooked in her sash. Even from this distance, she saw that shame was writ large on his face and was glad. She had many things she wanted to say, all of them sharp and hurtful, and none of them serving any useful purpose.

“How do you think Louise would handle a challenge to your estate from this young boy if anything happened to you?”

“I’d hate to think of what she’d do to protect Augie and the boys, even little Joséphine, from anyone challenging what she believes belongs to them and to her. She’d be lethal, like a lioness with new cubs.”

“So, Jean, because of your pride and pigheadedness, six children and two women may well find themselves in an impossible legal situation at some point. Of course, you won’t be around to see what a disaster you’ve created. Did this never occur to you? It’s not as if they would be squabbling over a ten-acre vineyard, either. People unused to wealth, status, and possessions often lose their reason when those things become part of a vast inheritance.” She picked up the chair and collapsed onto it, hands on her knees, and concentrated on catching her breath from the last outburst before beginning the next. Judging from Jean’s expression, she would have ample time to recover. Beneath the guilt and shame, a slight glint of hope swam to the surface of his eyes. She had seen this before, not often, but enough to know he wanted her to make it right and patch up—or clean up—whatever mess he’d made of something. Not this time, though, and not the way he wanted.

“I can’t help you with this. It’s a matter for lawyers, a roomful of them. It’s also up to you, and only you, to decide if you will acknowledge him as your son, perhaps not in the legal sense, but in the most elemental, personal way. But it might be too late now for even that.” She rubbed her forehead, over her right eye, where a headache had taken hold. “What would you do, Jean, if I had your child, unlikely as that may be?”

“Take care of you and of the child. You know I would, so why ask?”

She stood, her anger spiking along with the persistent throbbing in her temple. “Polette might have thought you’d do the same for her and Jean-Claude. She was wrong, as it turned out. I asked because we’ve spent the past half-hour discussing a child you didn’t take care of. You’ll do it, now, though, by all the saints, you will! Somewhere in these books and papers you care so much about is a tidy inheritance for Jean-Claude. You probably can’t touch what the emperor’s given you, and it wouldn’t be fair to Louise and Augie. But these lands and properties are yours to give. So do it, and do it now. I want to see what you’ve drawn up, ready for a lawyer’s finishing touches, when I get back. I will choose the lawyer for this task, however. No more unethical snakes.”

“Where are you going?”

“To light a candle for your son and an even bigger one for you.”

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rethesun · 3 years

Text

When 1D deny bad management and more such as closeting

I did some critical thinking for myself and realized a few things. What I wrote here is likely not groundbreaking at all. I'm just probably someone far behind catching up and hopefully, this makes sense. It’s a trust the process post because I have a feeling it may ruffle the feathers of larries and antis until you get to the end. Please note that it is not my intention to disrespect anyone at all but I can’t please everyone. I learned the hard way that I am allowed to share an opinion too.

When Niall or another 1d member denies such an issue and so causally, or Zayn in this 2015 fader interview. it confirms a fear that by speculating and I sometimes buy into conspiratorial thinking I’m in the wrong and I’m rude and I need a reality check. It also makes me feel like I need to apologize take a huge step back, and, from now on, respect what they say. Fyi, I’ve never been okay with invasiveness and I morally feel many people take it way too far. Regardless of larry, all types of fans can be invasive/disrespectful.

Now that those disclaimers are out of the way I’ll get into it.

For argument's sake, lets say,

It isn't true that 1d management or anyone else's management mistreat, e.g., threaten, harass, lie about/abuse/take advantage of young minds/closet/pr stunt people in the industry. Meaning, the norm is that artists are treated well and with respect. Then that means Rebecca Ferguson's story is just a one-time thing or a blip in the system that happens now and then; all in all, rarely ever. Seeing as that is true in this scenario, people would rush to her defense and be outraged. They would make it known it should not happen again or fight for/encourage better laws, so in the future it's less likely to happen. They would say ‘I would never work in/promote/support such a company if I knew.’ Would they not?

Note: Of course, people stay closeted all of the time so it’s entirely plausible people are advised to not be open about it or choose not to be open, and unfortunate mistreatment stories like the boy band Why Don’t We, Britney Spears', Rebecca Ferguson's, Amanda Bynes' Zayn Malik’s, Liam payne’s, Miley Cyrus' (when she was working for disney) Princess Diana (even though her circumstances were a bit different) and more exist. Sometimes these stories and issues are brought up, although it's usually mentioned for a moment, and it's easily forgotten or they blame the victim or it’s brushed off with an excuse or something to soften the harshness of it’s reality. One example of many here, here, & here.

Now let's try a different pov:

For argument’s sake, lets say,

It is true that: a) 1d was overworked and very much dehumanized. Their mental and physical health was not the priority when it should always have been, and/or b) one or more people chose/were advised/pushed (Idk which since Idk them personally) to stay in the closet because xyz.

In this circumstance, such a thing as a an industry that does the above^ is common knowledge because it’s the norm. A recent example & Adding this here again because yep.

It makes me think of when people see mistreatment in let’s say a workplace, and instead of people coming together at the person's defense, they turn a blind eye. Now why would anyone turn a blind eye to abuse? Unless you are somehow affected by it? Either that or you straight up don’t care. The former is a broad red flag and the latter is an individual red flag. Keep that in mind, I’ll come back to it.

People don't tend to overly worry about an average job loss over defending someone who is mistreated unless it's the only thing keeping them afloat/they are providing for others. In this scenario, people would go work somewhere else and/or go to someone's defense if they knew they were protected or weren't in harm's way by doing so.

This makes me think public figure people stay silent or stay in the closet for an unfortunate reason. A repetitive note: Sometimes people choose to stay in the closet and want… obviously it’s due to heteronormativity so it’s not that they want to want to but in a small way due to the circumstances they may have reasons too. They may not be ready or don’t trust everyone with that information so they only tell certain people which is 100% valid. People have every right to not share with those they don’t want to share with; that can be due to ‘perhaps privacy or perhaps conditioning or shame.’ (I am living proof) Other times people don’t want to but it’s heavily advised onto them. (as a non-public figure ordinary person most queer people can relate including me) E.g., heteronormativity, they want to keep their position as an artist. Regardless whether choosing not to be open or being heavily advised not to: People probably don't talk about it because maybe they don't want to revisit/publicly share yet/ever. Or the management they had was stressful and they don’t want to revisit that publicly. People in general may adjust to it and choose to ignore that just because something is normalized doesn't make it fair or always right.

I am fully empathetic and understanding to why people choose not to speak out about themselves or for those privacy they are respecting. It’s no ones business except theirs and the people they share it with. Whether it be about gender identity, sexuality, or abuse.

Those who don't have personal reasons not to call attention to these messed up norms are standing idle, and that speaks volumes.

What's also sad is when media and artists stay silent, people like Rebecca Ferguson go under the radar. Even though she's currently speaking out, people haven't given her the coverage that they would give to some rubbish gossip piece on the front of a trashy magazine or some fluff gossip site. If the main media do give attention (and they do sometimes) to these serious issues, it's again, for a moment, and then things are back to business as usual. That's just the media. We still don't see tons of public figures banning together outraged calling for more respect and change.

That said, I hope Why Don’t We and Rebecca Ferguson, and all others, eventually get the justice needed. Luckily Rebecca recently mentioned she is no longer in that situation and now is just working on proving her case to help others from going through the same. Significantly for younger, plausibly more vulnerable artists just starting their careers.

An afterthought: Many well-known celebrities didn't speak a word about Britney Spears' situation, if I am not misinformed, until it became headline news everywhere. (Mind everyone, her situation was considered a conspiracy for a long time) Until it became seen as a movement of the moment. That makes me wonder whether it's sometimes performative (plausible) or people are uncomfortable or worse: afraid to speak out until everyone is.

In conclusion, speculating that one or more people may be lying about management, are choosing to stay in the closet, or are being closeted are not bad/unreasonable standpoints. (If you hadn’t noticed you don’t need to be a larrie to have this point of view seeing as I’m not considered a larrie but I manage to respect larries and antis) Not everyone reading this will agree with me, but that's okay. After all, most people see/think differently in the outside world, so it is what it is.

Follow Rebecca on twitter here. She updates it regularly with information on mistreatment in the music industry.

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

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another unsolicited relationship advice post:

okay. i know that there’s probably thousands of relationship advice posts on here. but anyway. to my younger followers, if i have any:

if anyone that you’ve just met declares that you’re “girlfriend material” or “boyfriend material” and that you must simply meet their parents NOW! or some other ridiculously short interval (like a week say), instead of, idek, like a month or two into your relationship, know that that is a possible red flag for trying to push the relationship too fast.

i say this as again, bc on some buzzfeed fb post about supposed “nice guys” i commented about my high school stalker/creeper from 2012/2013. who, when i first met him in 2012 at public school, he insisted that after two days of knowing him that i simply “have to meet my (his) mum and my sisters right now! bc you’re girlfriend material and i LOVE you!”

like woah! dude! i’ve known you for a grand total of two fucking days! i absolutely don’t have to meet your family RIGHT NOW (although if i’d ever been stupid enough to actually date my stalker back then, i would’ve had to meet his mum or one of his 4 sisters/all of them at once; at some point anyway…. bc they would’ve had to drive us to dates etc bc neither of us had our Ps (provisional drivers licence here in aus) yet at the time)). because i’m pretty sure the normal window is about 1-2 months? maybe 3-4 months? why the fuck are you so obsessed with the term “girlfriend material”??? what the actual FUCK does that EVEN mean?? get away from me. bc this isn’t love. it’s something else, that i can’t put my finger on.

compare this to clear braces boy from catholic school, who literally took almost 3 years to ask me out; and to even ask for my number. when he’d finally asked for my number right before one set of the winter holidays at the end of term 2/before the start of term 3 in 2010, i was so oblivious as to why he wanted my number…. when he’d never wanted it/asked for it before.

so when he called me, while i was still on the bus home from school, i was panicking like “OH FUCK THATS WHY HE WANTED MY NUMBER!!! HE WANTS TO ASK ME OUT!!!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!! WHY THE FUCK AM I SO SLOW AND FUCKING DUMB???!!!” he never pressured me to meet his parents (although at 14/15 it was very obvious that that was a standard practice since we couldn’t drive ourselves anywhere lmao). we were basically on equal footing, except for my slowness with cottoning onto him asking me out and why he asked for my number lol.

CBB had never pressured and harassed me about my virginity. he had NEVER harassed me with porn, most especially while at school, unlike mr creeper who LOVED pulling out his porn filled phone and school laptop to show me his overly violent, degrading and aggressive porn. CBB’s flirting method was showing me norwegian black metal bands (or normal metal bands like parkway drive) and making me watch repeats of family guy on his ipod at lunch bc he loved family guy. he never brought up the term “girlfriend material” ever. he treated me like an actual person. and not his own personal fuck doll, that had holes that were conveniently for sticking his useless and clueless ass teenage dick in, again unlike creeper who was hellbent on wanting to act out his favourite violent etc porn on me to let him “take your virginity in a wonderful weekend of sex down the coast and you have to do all things that I LIKE BC THAT’S THAT AND I SAID SO!!!” 🤮🤮. although if i had progressed further than those few weeks with cbb, and my constant *karen from mean girls voice* *fake cough, fake cough* i’m sick *regina george voice* boo, you whore!” act every time i didn’t turn up on date that he’d asked me on…. maybe he could’ve treated me like that. but i’ll never know lol.

so cbb was unlike mr stalker; who was obsessed with my supposed “girlfriend material” status. mr stalker was obsessed with the fact that i had the ability and audacity to basically tell him “no”, by coyly letting him down with “my dad says i can’t date bc it distracts me from school and getting good marks 🙄😑” (which probably wasn’t true, looking back lmao)….. where he then whined PUBLICLY on facebook about it, with a status like “today sucks”… and then naming and shaming me in the comments when someone asked in the post comments what was wrong like: “*insert my name here* said no! she’s being a bitch!”. that at the time, made me roll my eyes and still does today when i think about it. because bro. i had literally only known you for two fucking days at that point. of course i’m going to say no. what the hell??? two days is nowhere near enough time to know a person well enough (although the conversation we had together on misguided trip to his house one day while we were wagging (skipping class/playing hooky for americans) aboriginal studies told me MORE THAN ENOUGH about his piece of shitness tbh) to “date” them imo.

because to me, the title “girlfriend material” doesn’t mean any fucking thing. but when it comes from a creep like mr stalker; it means “you’ll be my girlfriend forever and have my kids bc you’re such a nice girl and you’ll fix me bc that’s what nice girls like you do; bc you’re SO LOYAL AND NICE!” which i also saw as a MASSIVE RED FLAG back then, because we were literally 16yo kids (he literally told me this when we were on his bed in his bedroom in the aforementioned misguided trip to his house). and i also saw it as a red flag bc…. just because i’m “loyal” and “nice” doesn’t mean that i’ll spend LITERAL Y E A R S trying to “fix you” while you fuck around and never bother to change your behaviour all bc you think it’s “girly” to do just that. it definitely DOES NOT MEAN that i’ll have KIDS with you, what the actual fuck. like i’m a hopeless romantic, to an extent, mr creeper. but not to the extent where i’ll give myself up to someone like you, all because i’m “nice and caring” and it’s apparently what “nice girls do!!!” or whatever else fucked up guilt trip views you’ve got on why girls/women supposedly have to waste their time with and on you.

and also, on another front. CBB never FOLLOWED me home (considering he lived in a suburb 20mins away from mine lmao and we both lived at least 15mins away from the catholic school we attended) despite me telling him REPEATEDLY to “fuck off and walk home your way”….. whereas unfortunately, mr creeper lived just over the other side of my suburb.

so one day mr creeper decided to stalk me home (despite me saying the above “fuck off and walk home your way” comment constantly to him in the 10min walk home). and then when we got to my street and in front of my house he decided to joke that “oh now i know where your house and bedroom are, i’ll come to hide under your bed naked one day!!!! and when you get home (bc i’ll obvs do it when you’re out doing something), you’ll just have to FUCK ME because you’ll be so surprised that im there and ready to fuck you!” as if i’d be so overcome with supposed lust & love for him, after knowing that he’d broken into my room against my will and messed with my shit….. all for some cutesy love prank…. like in, idk, love actually (???) or himym (specifically the “naked man!” episode from season 4) or some other shitty romcom. bc no. you’re overstepping SO MANY fucking boundaries that i’d literally call the police on your stupid fucking stalker ass. what the actual fuck.

finally, cbb never forced me to try to kiss him, unlike mr stalker…. who whenever he got the chance, he’d grab my head and force me to kiss him…. and then gave me back the utterly disgusting & controlling GALL to tell me that i was “kissing wrong” and whinge/bitch that i “wasn’t into it”. and then he’d force me to kiss him again with a “im so sorry does this fix it 🥰🥺???” like NO???!!! forcefully kissing me DOES NOT FUCKING FIX ANYTHING YOU STUPID CUNT! please just get the FUCK away from me. like if you force me into anything, of course i’m not going to enthusiastically enjoy it??? and moreover, don’t you think it’s YOU who is “kissing wrong” (whatever the FUCK that bullshit actually means) and not me???? why do you think GRABBING MY HEAD and FORCING me to kiss you is appropriate in ANY of these situations????

just. to end this. to anyone and everyone, regardless of their gender/sexuality/age etc. NEVER trust anyone who uses the term “girlfriend material”/“boyfriend material”, to describe you, most especially when you’ve JUST MET them.

they’re using it as a means to control you and possibly trap you into an unhealthy (or potentially abusive) relationship like i would’ve had with my stalker/creeper. but most especially, this goes out to my younger followers, if i have any. be aware of this. watch out for the small red flags and run at the earliest time.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #relationships i guess #i’ve probably said this before lol #i can’t remember though

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softer-ua · 3 years

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in regards to what you pointed out a few posts ago, ngl one of my least favorite fandom things is when they make Kaminari the Har Har Stupid Joking ADHD Bi Playboy Who Is Never Serious Trope. like, he's very smart, 'worst in ___ area of a UA course' is very impressive and I don't remember if it even said that or just that he was studying with some other students, worried about his grades overall, calls himself stupid with implied insecurities about it, and didn't think he was very smart compared to the other people in the course. quirk overuse makes him loopy, incoherent, and think everything's funny. and yeah, he's a bit of a flirt and made a few perverted comments and actions that he clearly didn't think through that well. I'm pretty sure he's not ever stated to be bi in the manga because it was written by a coward, so I think people should think more about why they're associating and pairing together the idea of "hot flirty playboy who if legally able would sleep with everyone he meets" with emphasis or joke in the captions of whatever the content is on him being bi. I don't think this is inherently bad, even put together, but the execution feels kind of :/ and shallow. and I mainly just wish they'd pause to consider if there's any reason (subconscious or intentional) why one of those makes them think about the other, and at the very least lean back to see if they're blatantly making those traits centric around each other and tweak how they're showing them a little. Part of this is also because it's basically his fanon sexuality, but then they stick together "oh he's bi and everyone thinks that" and "he's made flirty or perverted comments and actions in canon at some point" and then mentally exaggerate and have this Canon Image of him as *waves hand at above* and I don't think that's happening consciously in most cases but. again. Cookiecutter Bi Party Playboy Who's Made a Date Offer to Everyone In The Building. not a flirty Person or a Playboy who is bi and flirts with more than one genders

I myself headcanon him as adhd and while the exact sexuality depends on my mood I think of/have him as bi in a lot of my content, but it's the same thing with why non adhd people see how he acts and label "adhd!" Especially about comprehension speed and derpy acting and intelligence and attention span jokes/tropes. Again, not bad in and of itself, but the specific parts of his behavior that make them think he's adhd, or that they start making jokes about or Ha Ha ADHD'ing, or that they think is why we project ADHD on him, (which they aren't necessarily wrong about, but like right in a really disrespectful look at how funny this is oh look squirrel way that's only funny when adhd people are doing it and it isn't all mocking like that) when they see other people calling him adhd, are the wrong ones, I think, and it shows in their characterization of him.

I'm not saying that any of those traits are bad in a character, but as a queer adhd girl with very high annual test scores and Gifted Kid Intelligence but extremely poor grades, focus, and brain damage (admittedly nothing like his, it was a longterm passive thing that mainly just made me have a Lot of Really Bad headaches, and closest thing it did to me was make me sluggish and emotional on bad days and also techincally have the potential kill my language bit if left untreated or the surgery messed up, which it didn't, and it won't be a problem again. but even after explaining that it wasn't cancer or any sort of tumor, and after seeing it do very little at all to affect my behavior outside of irritability and performance, because y'know, constant migraines, gone after the surgery but this was before that, Certain People I Was Vaguely Kind Of Acquaintances With started to treat my like I was a fragile glass thing going to to drop dead and revive myself speaking like a comic relief cartoon crazy person at any moment which was. patronizing.) I've since had surgery for, the way the fandom combines them into stereotypes and portrays them really just rubs me the wrong way- "Flirty Bi(tm) Playboy" "Har Har ADHD Can't Focus Or Get Things After They're Explained To Him, He's Still Confused And An Idiot" "Stupid Person With Brain Damage Who Can't Take Care Of Or Think For Themself And Acts Stupid And Funny For People To Laugh At" which tbh is super ableist even and especially when people irl do fit that description, and also reminds me of the Autistic Person Freaking Out And Being Dramatic sense of humor. And I know it's not helped by canon, because it done for comic relief and to limit his powers, but explored more I think it as a limitation could have been used way more interestingly than canon did and also call me biased but that quirk induced brain frying sounds at least as concerning as Izuku's quirk's backlash.

And it's a shame!! Because he's so much more interesting than that! Instead, the fandom gives me the Cookicutter Funny Bi ADHD Flirt Who's An Idiot and I am sad about it.

tbh it reminds me of what happened to percy jackson, esp with the ADHD Idiot Trope thing. which sucks because apparently it originated in the author making up stories around characters like his adhd and dyslexic kid inspired by Greek myths to tell him after running out of actual myths because it was his special interest and he wanted more. and then the series got kind of all over the place and the fandom processed that the adhd and dyslexic main character who does dumb things sometimes but is very combat smart and great at strategizing and leading gets bad grades and has trouble focusing and has, y'know, adhd, and made him the ADHD Idiot and erased his Gifted Kid girl friend's traits and ADHD and dyslexia into No Nonsense Calls Him an Idiot And Thinks He's Stupid And Has To Tell Him What To Do And Manage His Life For Him and honestly that just kind of sucks and it reminds me of what happened to fandom Kaminari. and now that I think of it people have jirou like that around him a lot too.

im fine with you answering this publicly if you want or have something to add but probably tag as ableism and maybe a biphobia mention content warning for people who don't have the energy to deal with thinking about those kinds of negative things rn because I kind of Went Off About It

I love this! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences 💚(and double thank you for tag suggestions)💚

I couldn’t agree more that a lot of fandom has messed up Kami’s character, which is why I’ve kinda been posting more about him cause he’s just stuck in my head.

I think a lot of fandoms have trouble with characters like this, people have a hard time with duality in characters and fast/fun posts are easier to make if you flatten a character down.

The did it to Kami, they did it to Percy, they did it to Ron Weasley, they do it to Thor, the list goes on. If being the Smart One ™️ isn’t your thing and you can be goofy than you get pigeonholed into the idiot trope.

I feel for Kami a lot(probably because I have adhd/brain damage too)

It sucks when you’re smart but it’s not the traditional, measurable kind of smart(even if by national comparison Kami technically is).

I got terrible grades growing up, and I pretty much got the absolute lowest gpa you can get and still graduate. But absolutely no one would have known if I didn’t tell them, because I’m not dumb.

(It’s okay if you are “dumb”, I love me a head empty just vibes friend. You’re 100% valid, stil worthy of joining discussions, and should be listened to and taken seriously. This just isn’t about that tho)

I joke sometimes that I’m clever and witty but not smart, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

I have lots of thoughts and ideas that I think I articulate pretty well, I am excellent at finding the humor in things and expressing it in a way that’s funny to others too, and there is almost zero problems I can’t find a work around. And the people in my life love it, and they love to use it.

But eventually everyone in my life finds out that I’m not smart. They see the way I have to pause to Google how to calculate a tip, that I don’t know the name of all 50 states or even where to find them on a map, or I legitimately just can not spell (if you ever see a post where it looks like I used a weird word choice it’s probably because I tried 4 times and autocorrect+Google couldn’t help me and voice to text wasn’t an option)

No one ever questions my intelligence until they find out about my adhd and/or catch me struggling with it. After the mask comes off it’s like they can’t even hear me anymore, nothing I say could be true or matter because I’m now just the goofy accident prone spacy girl. My family literally calls me Spacy

And ya know what sometimes I just let people think that because it’s easier, it’s easier than explaining that I’m dyslexic and that I didn’t have a single geography/history clas until 10th grade and shocker the capital of Iowa doesn’t come up much by then. And it’s easier for me to laugh off losing my keys again than dwell on the fact that sometimes it feels like I’m losing my marbles.

And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if after this post I get a lot more “fact checkers” and push back on anything else I post.(not talking about people who want to genuinely engage,y’all are always welcome, I’m talking those people who don’t wanna look it up themselves but no longer trust me to know what I’m talking about)

Kami is a sweet brilliant boy. He’s in a nationally high ranking school, he loves the weather channel, he’s careful about his quirk that could easily hurt his friends in combat, he has a very high emotional intelligence level, he wears dorky shirts with electricity puns on them, and he pays attention to his friends and remembers a lot of little things about them.

He wants to be a hero and he takes that seriously, and the series has tried time and time again to tell y’all that smiling and laughter are an important part of that. Kami excels at this part! So what if his history grades don’t rival the top of the class, the top 5 students would struggle hard to do what Kami does.

Iida can’t relax, Momos rather shy, Todo struggles with social cues, Midoriya is canonically not funny, and jfc where to even begin with Katsuki. I’m certain they’ll all grow up to be excellent heros in their own right, but none of them are going to bring the level of joy and camaraderie that Denki can. You can’t test that into someone.

Kami also just notices people differently and has any easy way of joining in with them, he doesn’t struggle approaching Katsuki or Shinso. Sure he doesn’t hit the the nail on the head the same way Deku does but he’s the only one who has the guts and skills to try. Also he’s not that kinda friend, he’s not looking to a save these guys but pal around with them

I think Kami 100% realizes what a special case and tough nut to crack Bakugo is, I don’t think he’s just careless or too dumb realize his life’s at stake or whatever.

I think he’s purposely testing Bakugos boundaries all while trying to not be a threat to Katsukis actual ego and calling Bakugo out when he needs it in a way that not to serious. Kami knows how to be just goofy enough that he’s approachable. He’s also keyed in that the way to Bakugo is through Deku, meanwhile everyone else is stuck believing the opposite.

Kami also realized how important music is to Jiro and saw an opportunity to let her display her skills and combin the two worlds she lives, and he wasn’t afraid to get some back lash from her for it.

Like Deku Kami isn’t afraid to be uncomfortable. You really can’t teach that level of social ease, you can teach the posture and feed people a couple of lines but it’ll never hit the same. Funny approachable people have spent a lifetime learning the craft, usually out of necessity.

It’s actually what gives me the biggest adhd vibes from him, because adhd is (speculated to be) a dopamine deficiency disorder. People with adhd are constantly trying to raise their dopamine levels, and that means looking for praise and reward and nothing makes the human brain light up faster than postative human connections.

Adhd children struggle a lot with connecting with peers and often find making people laugh a fast way into people’s circles and makes it more likely people will overlook being interrupted or spaced out on.

Also adhd people are pretty much forced by their own brain structures to be genuine in all they do, low dopamine levels make it very hard to do things you don’t enjoy because there no promise of dopamine from the activity and you don’t have enough to spare, plus impulsiveness makes it really hard to not show when you do or don’t enjoy something.

I agree that Kami is also painted as overly perverted at times, he’s a little flirty but in a fun casual way but it’s not the foundation of his personality and it’s really mellowed out over the course of the series.

And while I subscribe to the bi hc from his interactions with Jiro and Shinso, we should all be very mindful that we don’t lump these characteristics together. The are separate facets of his personality that are not dependent on each other in anyway.

Kami deserves all the respect and love, I can’t wait to see our electric king again 🖤⚡️🖤

#tw ableism #ableism #tw biphobia #biphobia #softy answers #I have a sorta sad one shot about Kami and his quirks effects #should i post it?

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calypsoff · 3 years

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Sixty Four.

“Rihanna, hello!? Are you with us” I blinked looking around me and then looking at the laptop “yeah” I laughed to myself, I zoned out to a place where I wasn’t married or pregnant, the way I would get him back for this in so many ways “I am here, carry on. So” I stifled out a yawn “sorry, so the Puma event will be in California for me? That is sweet thank you, I know it was going to be in London but moving it for me is sweet” I am tired as hell “yes, so as we was saying the event is pretty much after your husband’” I rolled my eyes, do I even have one “yeah, ok that is fine. I am excited, sad that I couldn’t be in the promo video. I just didn’t expect to be growing this big” I laughed “funny when this shit sells because of me, I don’t even think my foot would fit in any of the shoes at this moment” I sighed out “anyways, I am fine with that. I will do everything I can, I will be posting soon with the slides on so I will start rolling that out” I explained “Yeah, that is fine. So onto other things” Jay Brown smiled at me, it wasn’t a smile that I want. It’s that he knows I don’t want to speak on it “cheating rumours, what is happening. Your publicist is in the Zoom meeting, so let’s speak on it” Jay Brown sat back in the chair “we need to speak on something that is plastered on many avenues even though you have been quiet about it, he is where? In Canada and you are in Mexico. What is happening” looking over at Mel “it’s a little bit of a misunderstanding but I rather be quiet on it, I haven’t exactly spoken to Chris like that. So no comment really, I don’t want to speak on it when I don’t know what to say. I know my husband hasn’t cheated on me, that is it” silence from the call and this place is driving me crazy “so can you actually speak to him, he’s doing a lot of damage. We are building him up alongside you, if he is putting my client down Robyn then something needs to be done about it” nodding my head “when I speak to him I will, I need to go. Bye everyone” I knew that part would come on “ASAP Rihanna, we need you to do that” getting up from the chair, closing my laptop.

Sitting down outside on the chair, this weather is the only thing that is making me happy. Just sun, sea and breeze “are you ok? You knew they was going to ask; everyone is asking. I know you’re sick of people asking but I would ask, just like you snapped with your mother, but they are just asking, they don’t understand when you say he isn’t when the blogs have really manipulated the situation” Mel sat down across from me “he texts me, he won’t call because he knows I am pissed. How can he do so much in these two days, he has me Rihanna looking at his Instagram like I am nothing. I don’t want to be nasty to him, I don’t but it’s getting there. He hasn’t checked on me, I want to get him back, I want him to know pain. He doesn’t know where I am or what I am doing. We are flying back to Cali; you are coming with me to my scan. I bought the date forward. I said I am busy, I will find out the sex of my baby without him there, we will come back to Mexico. I have to get him back; I have to do it. I have worked so hard for him; I don’t get it. I am never enough for a man?” Mel held my hand “that is untrue, I think he is in the moment. He’s having fun but the fun is no good, I believe in Chris. I know his intentions aren’t what the public see, the girls are making it that way. But I am excited to come with you, you my wife” I smiled at Mel “I was daydreaming if I wasn’t married or pregnant, I would have got him back publicly to shame him, but he is my husband, and I don’t want that. So” I breathed out “I am doing that, I know he said he is coming back Monday night, night? You hear that? Such an asshole, not even morning. But we will be back here, he will feel how I felt, and I put that on my momma. I am not going to lash out, but he will feel it” I slammed my hand on the table, I am sick.

Mel and I are funny together, we have a burner account to be nosey and to mingle with my fans. My fans want me to divorce, I get it. Outside looking in this looks bad, it looks like he is openly just doing that, but I know he isn’t, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, they are writing thesis about my wellbeing, how I am a single mother already. They are very hard headed my fans “juicy, so someone asked who is this chick? I don’t get it why is everyone on her ass, this fan page put India Love has been with Drake and has been staying at his house for a week now, looks like he has passed him onto that bastard husband of hers, fave can do better. She has been around, I mean are we shocked” shaking my head “I didn’t even know girl until now, is he being blind to the mess. Like I am deep in it and he is in that OVO compound just doing what? I mean come on, are you really being this ignorant” speaking of him, he calls when I just want to slap that face of his “what?” I answered, “I call and all you keep saying it what?” placing my phone on loud speaker “are you being ignorant Chris? I know how much of an asshole you can be, are being ignorant?” I need to know, he is just being sly with everything “those blogs can suck my dick and if you believe that then you dumb as them” shaking my head “right, Chris you are very new to this. Trust me, you are very fucking deluded right now. So you didn’t repost anything on your page?” I just can’t help myself; I am not getting real answers by being quiet “I have no idea, I was drunk. I didn’t see anything on my page” Mel’ mouth fell open “so all those screenshots were just lies Breezy huh? You know what, bye get the fuck off my line nigga” disconnecting the call “no way, he has been caught out, he knows he has made a mess. Oh my god” he is digging and digging “if I knew he wanted fun then I wouldn’t have married him, he asked” I sniffled “anyways, I just. I need to get on hateful mode, tomorrow we are going to the hospital and coming back” flicking the tear away, Chris tried calling me again, but I put it down, he can go and have his fun because he will have no choice but to be coming home to me soon.

I somehow feel upset that Chris is not here, I feel the sadness in me but he needs to feel how I feel and he will, I look so stupid publicly and social media is the devil for him, I feel for him because that India chick is running, I was going to comment but I stopped myself because then it looks like there is issues, I didn’t know he followed her either. Not even recent either, he been following her which to me I didn’t think like that. But the recent picture of Chris I seen and I know his face, I think it’s hitting him now. He isn’t smiling but yet manages to take pictures, he needs to know that India chick is not a friend, she is dragging him down. I assume he is thinking they are just friends, and he is being kind. I know him, I know what he is like, but he is playing dumb, he is really doing it “Mrs Fenty-Brown” looking up as the nurse “hi” getting up from my seat “hello, nice to see you again. You look so well, follow me” smiling at the nurse as I followed her to the room, Mel wasn’t sure about doing this and was like maybe this will break him but he has the world questioning my intentions of marrying him, I can do better but I can’t because I love him, I do love him and to me he is perfect but he is causing so much shit and then when he played a stupid card about being drunk, I don’t care. I rather find out the sex of the baby with Mel “hi Robyn, welcome” Audrey waved me in, walking into the room “nice seeing you” hugging Audrey “likewise, and who is this?” she pointed at Mel “she is my best friend Mel, Chris is busy” Audrey shook her hand “please come in” sitting down on the chair “I always said I had time for you did I not, I guess you have a busy schedule” nodding my head “I do so that is why I had to change it, but thank you for fitting me in” it was nice of her.

Audrey wasn’t wrong when she said that this scan is long as hell, she hasn’t said anything to me so I can imagine that things are ok with the baby but she is still measuring things and checking for any abnormalities, I have been very quiet since laying down with Mel holding my hand but I am just missing him and he should have been here really, this is what sucks but he has shamed me enough publicly, and making me look stupid “did I ever tell you that on Chris’ and I honeymoon that this guy called captain, I never said anything about being pregnant, that was when I was hiding that fact, so nobody really knew. He randomly told me that I am having a daughter, out of nowhere said I am having a girl. And I was so taken aback that he said that. I questioned how he knew, he said he sees the future and that I have four children but he is not sure about the forth, I am like what the fuck” Mel’ eyed bulged out “if he is correct I am going to him, he can tell me where the fuck I am going wrong” I laughed “likewise, that is if he is right” Audrey added that to the end, she isn’t giving anything away “he also said that we have a beautiful marriage and there isn’t anything we can’t take, things will be bumpy so yeah” I shrugged “I am being deadass Robbie, if he is right. I am going to Jamaica and seeing him” I chuckled “you ain’t going to wait for anything huh” shaking my head laughing “nope, Audrey tell us please” Mel is rushing her.

Audrey has been quiet and that scares me “why are you quiet?” I asked, she spoke more last time “I am doing a report on baby, there is a lot I have to write. No news is good news, if I started speaking and telling you then I was leading up to bad news. So are we ready to see baby, I can tell you the baby is so healthy, very active in the stomach. You heard the heartbeat right, but shall we see?” nodding my head “I can’t wait, I want to see my baby” I shrieked “I always felt like yes I am pregnant but it was a tiny little thing and I have been reading up on it and now they take form so I am so excited” Audrey smiled “that is right so if you would like to look at the screen in front of you, and now it’s in a weird position, let’s see if the baby moves while we do this” the screen came on and I pulled a face “this is the baby feet” she laughed “awww, showing the feet off, how adorable. Oh wait, I see a penis” Mel said, squinting my eyes “I am joking” hitting her arm “lying bitch” she is annoying “do you know hundred percent what the baby gender is?” I questioned “I can say one hundred percent I know what it is. Do you want to know?” looking over at Mel and guilt just came over me but then why should I wait “oh my god look at the baby moving Robyn, this one doesn’t actually be still” I swallowed hard “tell me, I want to know” staring at the screen seeing my baby “if you can see here, she just put her thumb in her mouth” poking my bottom lip out “wait” it just hit me “we have a mini Rihanna with the way she moves” placing my hand over my mouth “it’s a girl?” Audrey nodded her head “It’s a girl, congratulations” I sobbed out loudly, I was louder then I should have been but I am feeling so hurt about everything and now I am having daughter.

I feel so embarrassed that I cried the way I did, I wanted to run out of the place after that “mess” I said to myself “don’t say that, I am happy. So fucking happy, a whole niece. And I think she has your nose; I swear she does. Just look at the polaroid” shaking my head “you think I did wrong?” I asked Mel “erm, only you know your own pain Robyn. I think what makes it worse the headlines, it’s making the whole thing worse. Only you know the hurt he will feel but I mean, he has the world thinking the marriage is sham too, it’s a hard situation” looking out of the SUV window “I just wanted him to tell me before, I wanted him to keep in contact. It stemmed from that, that was the downfall. He is showing out, I get it but he needs to come back to who he is, he is not like them. Money can change a person, it can, and I don’t see that with Chris, but you end being that way because you have to show off to make it. I don’t ever expect him to not be around females, I don’t. But there are classy women and classless. Those girls that are there are there for one thing, I fully expected women to be there, I did but I just you know. I didn’t think Chris would be laughing and joking that way with them, he is flirty with his niceness and then when he reposted that and deleted it and his reaction to it, I have work on my hands. His ego is getting in the way, one of us are going to break and I hope it is him because if I do then my point isn’t going to get to him” I spoke to myself really, Mel will be just listening “my daughter will never go through what I went through, she will have a home and a loving home. She won’t go through that, she won’t and so help me god I won’t allow that, she will be loved by her dad, and she will get that” wiping my tears “she will get that Mel, my daughter will. Anyways, back to Mexico I need to sleep. I am tired” this is a mess.

Drake’ crib is the best thing I have ever seen in my life, the place is amazing, and I appreciate that he even allowed me into his home and let me just relax with the homies, I have had the best time here “back to sunny Cali now” Drake made his way over to me with his hands stuffed in his pockets “yes, I think it’s time. I think a nigga is in trouble, so you know” he got his hand out “I don’t pay attention to the blogs, you know what is in your heart so who cares” dapping him “true but thank you. Also they think I am a rapper now” Drake laughed out “album soon come, but we will see each other soon. Birthday next” I took in a deep breath “I think I am going to be in trouble bad, there won’t be one for me” Drake is laughing but I am being dead ass “this is why I don’t do marriage; I am young, and I need to evaluate myself. I need to test and taste the world yet but you’re an exception you had to wife Rihanna up, that was a must because it’s Rihanna but marriage for me, you did it anyways, but I wouldn’t pay attention to what the blogs say, you know your heart” he has a point “Breezy leaving us that quick, he barely arrived” Drake turned around to India “he has priorities now, you could both catch a flight together. I am joking but he’s going, link up soon. Tell riri it was nothing, it was just a little get together” picking up my duffle “be quiet nigga, anyways I am out. Indian, peace. Nice meeting you love” waving her off “until we meet again” I laughed out, that won’t be happening for a while “sure” I said as I continued to walk off.

I have not managed to look through social media like that, I have been peeping here and there but from what I know, from what TJ has been saying it’s not good and now I have to face the music of Robyn which I did nothing wrong, she is acting like I had an orgy which yes there could have been a thing but no, I am faithful to Robyn, she is my wife and I love her, but I enjoyed myself so much. I have never laughed so much in my life, just good vibes. Good booze, good weed, good vibes all around. It’s just amazing but now I am here, and I am dreading it, Robyn did not see the IndiaLove repost, I did it in a drunken manner in the middle of the night and I deleted, she sleeps early. It’s all hearsay on what happened and she is reading into that “thank you” picking my duffle back from the backseat as I got out of the Uber, I don’t know about that SUV shit, I don’t’ know how to be booking that shit when Robyn be telling about it. Drake only allowed phones in the oarty, that is why there is only pictures of that floating around, there was plenty of other shit in that, it’s all bullshit but I am just going to have to listen to Robyn go on about it, throw me out of the bedroom and deal with that, she is going to be dramatic.

I huffed out, I came back at night because she will be asleep and looks like she is. It’s quiet as hell but none of the lights are on, let me go upstairs and say hi to her that I am back because I want her to know that I did come back. Walking up the steps, looking down at my phone laughing at Drake’ text about have a I been kicked out yet, TJ said the same thing what is wrong with these niggas. Making my way to the bedroom, I don’t want to argue with Robyn this is why I will let her speak on how she feels first before I even say anything, yes I get it women were there. But nothing happened, pushing open the bedroom door and it’s just dark. No light on, I pulled a face. Not like Robyn at all, reaching over and putting the light on seeing the empty bed “Robyn?” looking around the bedroom, she can’t be in the bathroom because the light is off there too. Walking into the room more confused, slowly placing my bag on the bed looking around and then seeing my clothes on the floor, a trail actually. I swallowed hard; did something break into the home. Putting the light on in the walk in closet and my clothes are on the floor “fuck” where has she gone, getting my phone out of my pocket panicking on where she has gone.

Staring at Mel, Chris is on the phone to Mel because I have ignored his calls, so he called Mel “how do you not know where she is Chris? I don’t know where she is” Mel lied, I wonder how far is he going to go “I will try for you, ok bye” Mel disconnected the call “he is panicking sis, like when I said I don’t know she is supposed to be home he said I should know, like hell I should” my phone started ringing again “he is going to call me again, so he says because I am going to find out for him. He didn’t say why he just says she’s not home. Where is she, she should be home. What if someone has kidnapped her” rolling my eyes “now he cares, he hasn’t bothered since being in Canada but now he’s trying to move mountains. If he calls again I will pick up but honestly I should make him suffer for how he has done me, I just knew this whole trip would have been bad vibes because of the way he told me, I don’t want him to be Rihanna’ husband, I want him to have his own name but in the right way, anyways. I think it’s time I post” I smiled “oh yes, Melissa photography!” I grinned “let see how he feels when you post on Instagram and you don’t pick up, I am not saying about who took it though” looking down at my phone “I don’t mind” Mel said, she took a beautiful pictures of me with the sunsetting in the background. A side view of me, one hand just under my bump and the other arm just over my boobs. Bitch I was naked and what but it’s just a side view and it’s a nice ass picture, I smiled to myself adding a caption ‘Peace’ I wanted to keep it short, I did want to put just the two of us but it’s sparking drama so that is simple “that is now posted” I giggled to myself “it’s a beautiful picture, a black queen is going to give birth to a black queen and I love that for you” I am excited to know I am having a daughter.

That picture wasn’t even up for a second, he is calling me already, so the nigga has my notifications on clearly “that was quick, you know he is panicking” Mel is right he is, answering the call “yes?” I answered “I have been calling you! Least ten times now, what the fuck!” he shouted, “lower your tone, what is it?” oh the nigga is panicking, he is shouting so he has lost senses now “where are you!? Why is my clothes on the floor, where did you go without me knowing, are you serious? I thought someone took you, I panicked” he said out of breath “ok” I don’t care “ok? Robyn, I was scared. Where are you? I expected you home, this is stupid. And you posted a naked pictures, I told you about the body thing” I knew he would say that “so nigga?” I said, he is acting like I care “I get it, you’re angry with me but where are you. Come home” I sniggered “I am in Mexico” the line went silent “for what?” he said, his voice is less panicky now “I don’t know, last minute thing. You know how that goes” he did that to me “I will come to you, you went there alone!?” staring at Mel “yes” I lied, I think I will tell Mel to go because she doesn’t need to be involved in any of this “right, I will come there to you, like now” he can come I don’t care “make sure my house is clean before you think of leaving that house, I want the bed made, clothes picked and the washing done. And the floor needs cleaning Breezy” disconnecting the call “Mel you will need to go, he wants to come here. I don’t want you involved in any of it, neither of us can look to you for help. This is between me and him, he better clean that shit up” placing my phone on the table.

#fanfic #fanfiction #chriannaff #chrianna fanfiction #chrianna ff #chrianna

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my-never-ending-nightmare · 2 years

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12/03/2021

*This’ll be a long & bumpy one so buckle up folks. Sorry for giving ya’ll another mess to scroll past. Hopefully I can bury it with more posts soon enough lol*

Early last month when I had dug myself a deep hole of misery & despair and then pathetically jumped right in, I had written something here about how I had felt “used” by somebody after a relationship that meant a lot to me came to a rather sudden & depressing end. And that post is a great example of the fact that I’m not proud of everything that I write. But, what I am proud of is having the courage to take ownership of my thoughts by keeping them all publicly posted here. It makes me feel like I’m holding myself accountable for my thoughts, words & resulting actions. I’d much rather that than just deleting the shit I regret and pretending it never happened. Because this way I either have to stand by what I wrote, or, when what I wrote is wrong/counterproductive/stupid then I have the obligation to figure out why and then change my thought processes accordingly. Otherwise I’ll be doomed to be repeating the same mistakes over & over again 'till the day I die.

That being said, what an embarrassingly cringe-worthy month November was ‘round here lol. I’m really glad I had the mental wherewithal, however, to admit in that aforementioned post that I was: A) going through alcohol withdrawal on top of what was essentially a bad breakup & thus not thinking clearly, and B) that I didn’t know all the facts surrounding said breakup and thus everything I was feeling and thinking was based entirely off assumptions & speculation. I think the way I worded it at the time was that I felt like I was trying to put a puzzle together but only had half the pieces and was thus unable to see the complete picture. All I knew for sure is that I was hurting. Bad. And I was looking for someone or something to blame. Which, ultimately, ended up being myself.

It’s occurred to me now what has been tormenting me - this absolutely soul crushing feeling I’ve had – It isn’t just heartache. It’s guilt, shame & remorse. Because ultimately I promised the best friend I’ve ever had that I was better – and I really thought I was, too – but I wasn’t. I had my chance at sobriety at the start of this year, and I fucked it up in April when I got some pretty devastating & scary news. Because that’s the thing about using alcohol as a crutch to get through life: you’ll find that you can’t stand on your own two feet without it once life gives you a hard knock. I thought I had it under control, and perhaps in some ways I did since I was drinking so very little up until that relationship ended. But I hadn’t eliminated it from my life entirely - so when life came swinging at me you know what I fell back on.

Therefore it was irresponsible for me to have allowed that relationship to develop again in the first place. No matter how much this person may have wanted or tried to talk to me, I owed it to myself & her to do the right thing and continue to refrain from contact with her until I truly was better and circumstances were different. And by better, I mean sober. So it was irresponsible of me to even talk with this person at all, but it was completely reckless of me to have gotten as close to her as I did. Nothing good could have come from it at that time, & ultimately nothing did. And I should have known that.

But what really kills me inside is knowing that I didn’t just fail to keep a promise – I straightup lied to this persons face. Once things began to crumble and I dove right back into the bottle I started to lie in order to hide it. And what’s even more fucked up then the fact that I lied to somebody I love is the fact that at the time I had fed myself so much bullshit that I legitimately believed in those moments that I was doing this person a favor by deceiving them. Because, in some twisted logic, I felt that I was somehow keeping my promise to them that I was better by hiding it from them when I got unwell again. When in reality all I was doing is betraying the trust of the best friend I’ve ever had. Trust which, I might had, she placed in me despite her having every reason in the world not to do so. I really felt I was just hiding something deeply personal that I no longer thought was any of said persons business, but all I really did was cause heartache to somebody I love by betraying all of the good faith they placed in me. That fact haunts me. And I know I’ll never be able to say anything to make things better because when trust is broken then “sorry”means nothing.

There’s this older gent’ I met earlier this year that has offered me a lot of really great advice since then. Same guy who told me the analogy of your life being a book, for anyone keeping track of these journal entries lol. I reached out to him to try to explain all these thoughts & feelings as well as get some much needed advice and what he told me was this: You’re a really smart guy. And I don’t say that to stroke your ego, but because the biggest lies are the ones we tell ourselves. Everyone spins their own web of bullshit to justify & rationalize their behavior & choices. But you’re a lot more clever than most people, so your web was far more big & complex than most peoples. So you can’t blame yourself for getting stuck in it. What you need to do is focus on getting yourself out, then discovering what led you to spin that web in the first place.

Well goddamn, was I ever right in thinking it would be a good idea to talk to him lol.

So what I ought to be searching for now is forgiveness. Not from others. But from myself. I need to atone for my sins by making sure I’m never that person again. And the only way I can do that is by never drinking again. If I can be the man I know I’m capable of being rather than the person I allowed myself to become then I can at least make things right in my own mind & heart. Even if I can’t make things right with the person I miss the most.

And to bring things full circle, that post early last month in which I described feeling “used” was just a subconscious attempt to blame this person and obfuscate my own guilt rather than facing it head on. Not that I didn’t have any reason to feel that way, per se, but rather that it ultimately doesn’t matter one way or another. And what I mean by that is this: what hurt the most about the end of that relationship prior to me sobering up was the fact that she started seeing another dude within 2 weeks of ending things with me. That stung. A lot. Because, to me, it showed that she was never really serious or committed to our relationship. Or, if she was, this new guy must have been one hell of a catch for her to have moved on so quickly lol. Hell, maybe it was even my fault because I failed to show her how much she meant to me. Regardless, if the initial end of the relationship was the injury, then just how quickly she was ready for another one with someone else was the twisting of the knife. The salt in the wound. The shattering of my heart.

It left me feeling like I had just been a rebound from this persons ex, and a distraction from the person they are hopelessly in love with plus a way to fill the time while she waits for the next guy she’s ready to be serious about. And, to be honest, I think part of me resented this person for having been the one to rekindle our friendship before ultimately moving it beyond friendship. Because she knew how much I valued our friendship, yet she wanted our relationship to be more serious than that without actually being serious about me. If that makes any sense. Like, once intimacy became involved it was really too late to just be friends. Which is what I miss the most: just having that particular friend in my life.

What I’m getting at is this: when I erroneously claimed I had been used I was really just bitching & moaning in an attempt to distract myself from what the real problem was: me.

And, furthermore, I don’t even know how serious their relationship was, is, or will be. And it doesn’t change anything either way. Because ultimately all I can do is mourn what once was, regret how careless I was with our time together, kick myself for having been so naïve, & atone for my guilt over having lied to her by being a better person.

So, to begin to wrap this up, what a god awful month November was lol. I’m glad it’s over, and even more glad that December has gone off to a much better start. Last month began with me in a very dark, unhealthy mental space that I had allowed myself to occupy. And while I was down in that pit of despair that I had dug for myself I could only see one way out – I wanted something, or more specifically someone, to pull me out. I didn’t have the courage to climb out myself because at the time I could only envision one future for myself. Or, at least, only one future I wanted to live. And seeing that future disappear was devastating and made me fall back on my old crutch: alcohol. And while I was busy numbing my pain & running from my problems instead of overcoming them I became something I hate – a helpless victim of his own choices.

And the thing about addiction and especially lying to those you love is that it fills you with shame & guilt which, in turn, causes you to lose self-respect. And then, in my case at least, that guilt morphs into hatred. Self-hatred. I was angry, but I was angry at myself. And all that anger & hatred begun to seep into the very core of my soul and then expressed itself in all that I did and said. It made me ugly. So I have a duty to myself and an obligation to those that love me to expel all that negativity from my brain like the toxin that it is so that I can be the best version of myself I can be.

Happiness is a choice.

I just wish it didn’t have to take all of this for me to realize what was fundamentally broken about me or how I can fix it. Above all I wish that I could have ended things on a good note & without any hard feelings between me and the person who my heart will always belong to. But it’s too late for that now, I suppose. Though I often find myself daydreaming about just having the chance to talk again. Just talk. About everything & nothing for hours on end like we used to. To reuse that puzzle analogy, I feel like I'm missing so many pieces that only this particular person has. And so I’ll never be able to see the full picture unless this person is ever generous enough to share them with me. Which I doubt will ever happen. Because they have absolutely no reason to do so.

But still, I wonder what that would be like. To just have one of those late night drives again. A chance to express how sorry I am and how I understand now what I didn’t understand back then: that I couldn’t expect a healthy, functional relationship with somebody else when I didn’t have one with myself. Now that I have the benefit of hindsight & sobriety I just can’t help but wonder what that conversation would be like.

But I guess I may just always have to wonder.

Because I don't feel like I deserve that conversation, and I know that what’s done is done. I may never have the full picture of what transpired or why, but life goes on regardless.

And so will I.

#blog #journal

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

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The Dragon Egg (Parts 19-25)

Another set of chapters for @secrettunnelatla’s event.

Chapter 19 Leather For Sequin

She should be eating better, should be better hydrated, should bathe more, should exercise more, should be sleeping better. She finds it harder to do these things at all, much less to an optimal degree. Sleeping is especially hard, having favored doing so on her belly. It helps little that the baby seems to be particularly active when she is trying to sleep with its kicks and squirms. She still can’t get used to it, she doesn’t think she will. It leaves her feel queasier than the morning sickness ever had.

Even if she were as physically comfortable as possible she doesn’t think she’d sleep. Her mind is stuck on Seicho and on all of the articles she has scrolled through during the past few days. Articles that drag her name through the mud and articles that praise Blue Talon for things she should be credited for. She lies awake, staring at the ceiling, hands clasped over her belly. She finds the baby’s foot--or maybe it is a hand--and rubs over the spot, a fruitless attempt to get her to settle down. All the while her mind runs in circles over the headline, ‘Fire’s Reign’s Fire Lord Ozai Denounces Pregnant Daughter’. She didn’t think that he would so publicly condemn her. She should have; he does, afterall, have an image to protect. As if he hasn’t already tarnished it with his binge drinking. She imagines that Zuko is probably getting a good kick out of it. She brings her rubbing to a stop and closes her eyes.

She gets little sleep, but enough of it that she has to be woken by Zhao. She doesn’t know why he bothers, it isn’t as though she will make use of the day. But the man is annoyingly persistent, refusing to leave the living room until she declares that she has to get dressed.

She slips into one of Koemi’s dresses. Eventually she is going to have to pester Zhao to help her buy at least one outfit that suits her aesthetic more, his wife’s attire is absolutely gaudy. Today’s disaster is orange with a sunflower print, which might not have been so horrible if the sunflowers weren’t purple and pink in color. She feels more ridiculous than usual when she emerges into the kitchen.

“I have some good news for you.” Zhao smiles.

“You’re going to take me back to that volcano you hated so much and pitch me into it.” She mumbles.

The man looks horror-stricken. If she weren’t so low she certainly would have laughed.

“I managed to get you a record deal under a new label.”

“Please tell me that it isn’t Uncle Iroh’s sketchy basement recording studio.”

“It isn’t. It is another label that I work for.”

“And which one is that?”

“WSLSE.”

Apparently her reaction isn’t satisfactory.

“Wan Shi Tong’s Library Of Sound Entertainment.” He clarifies. “You left a good impression on the man. Raava has also been speaking fondly of you.” He slaps a print out onto the table and pushes it to her. “You have been visiting the wrong websites.”

Her brows crinkle. “You have no right to…”

“Monitor my children’s browsing activity?” He asks. “My children still listen to Happy Hei Bai and my wife doesn’t follow music news. That leaves one person who would search up Blue Talon over and over again.”

She folds her arms. “What of it?”

“You’re making yourself miserable.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “All of this talent is just...confined to a couch.” He pauses. “Which is why I took it upon myself to get you signed to a new label…”

“With what band, Zhao!”

“You’re a soloist now.”

“A soloist?” She sputters.

“You don’t exactly mesh well with people.”

No doubt he had overheard her screeching at Seicho. “And yet, I can’t seem to do without them.”

He chuckles. “That’s where we disagree. You have a divine voice, to have it buried under wailing guitars and pounding drums is a shame. The idea I pitched is to have you go acapella and truly showcase your voice for everything that it is.”

Azula’s face pales. “In other words, there’s no room for error. Mistakes are easily detectable.”

“You aren’t one for mistakes and error.”

She frowns rather deeply and gestures to her bump. Ever the gentleman Zhao tiptoes his way back a statement or two. “You won’t be alone, you’ll have a team of fantastic producers and a very talented manager.”

Azula inhales through her nose.

“I dropped Blue Talent to focus on this new project…”

“Me.” Somehow she manages to frown more deeply still. “You dropped a band with a perfectly flawless trajectory for me. Since when do you take risks?”

“Since I found someone worth placing a bet on.”

“That’s what I am to you, a bet. A product.”

“A child.” Zhao cuts in. “I’ve known you since you were as young as my own little ones.”

She massages the bridge of her nose. “Zhao, Audio of Agni is a battle of the bands.”

His smile falters. “I am working on that.”

“Spirits, Zhao! What’s the point of putting me back in the studio if--”

“You don’t need Audio of Agni to make it big.” He mutters. “I don’t know what it is with you youths and hinging your entire careers on it. We didn’t have battle of the bands when I got into this industry. The Tui La’s didn’t part-take until the fourth event.”

“Zhao…”

He cuts her off once more, the audacity of the man. “We’re going to make a name for you regardless of Audio of Agni. And we’ll do it on raw talent alone.”

“Acapella artists never do well.”

“Acapella artists seldom do well. Most of them are generic. Their voices don’t stand out without instruments.”

“I’m known for metal music…”

“And you’re capable of ballads and operatics. With this project we’re going to put emphasis on your clean vocals. Once that takes off, we can take more risks--you can try doing acapella with those screaming vocals…”

This time she cuts him off. “What about piercings and tattoos says, ‘acapella and opera artist’?”

“Your vocals don’t have to match your looks. But if you must have it that way, we can swap out some of your piercings for less...bold ones. We can cover the tattoo. Your pregnancy might help with this new image.”

She cringes though she isn’t entirely opposed to a more elegant style of dress; she enjoys the glitz and glimmer every now and again. But, Agni, she can’t pull it off not when she has let herself go like this.

“Your first session will be tomorrow, I’ll send my wife shopping with you, you could use a wardrobe for photoshoots and what not.”

She only agrees so that she won’t have to beg the man to buy her better clothes.

Chapter 20 Dragon Tongue

It is daunting to see one of her monikers in the headlines again. To see it there in a more neutral, speculative light. ‘Blue Talon Vocalist Flies Again as Dragon Tongue’. She wishes that she could feel something other than dread, a growing sense that she is only building up momentum for a mightier, more embarrassing fall than her first one.

The announcement of her new single is daunting. And attempting to record a whole new extended play before Audio of Agni and the birth of her baby is twice that. Hama is adamant that she should be taking it much easier, especially since finding out that her baby might be born with an unusually low weight.

She thinks that she should be taking it slower. And yet she can’t afford anymore slacking. She has already wasted so much time sulking and moping and making a deeper mess of herself.

And so she is in the recording booth again and with new material. Material and lyrics that are so much rawer. So much more painful to sing through. They are confessions of shame and inadequacy. Laments of betrayal. And ballads of loneliness. And she can’t hide any of the pain behind indistinguishable growls or loud guitar shreds. It is all crisp and vivid. Open. Naked. She isn’t sure that she wants to do this anymore. Not when every session brings her closer to tears. Closer to a total meltdown.

Every session reminds her of what she lost. Every session reminds her that what she is doing now is nothing compared to what she could have been doing. Every session reminds her of Mai and TyLee and of Seicho.

And when her mind isn’t ailing, her body is aching. Aching in ways that she hadn’t anticipated. Her feet hurt so bad, they hurt when she is sitting down. Her ankles are swollen--Hama assures her that this is normal. As normal as the persistent ache in her back and the odd nose bleeds and congestion that she gets every now and then. On those congested days, she can’t even work.

On other days she finds herself short of breath. Her growing baby is pushing against her lungs. On those days her voice is so weak and breathy. She records regardless. Perhaps she would have allowed herself a break if Zhao weren’t so adamant that the breathy quality gives her a one of a kind sound. An ethereal sound.

She is inclined to disagree. She just sounds weak and weird. She pushes through, she always pushes through.

She promises herself that, whatever she does, she will not read the critiques of her new work. Her self-esteem is already in tatters. They talk more about her pregnancy and what it is doing to her body than they do her work. In that regard she almost hopes that Dragon Tongue is such a flop that it will eclipse that sort of talk.

It is well into the evening. The studio gets so much quieter in the evening. And in the silence her loneliness is emphasized. She remembers late nights of purposely poor vocals and drinking. Of idle chatter between songs. She remembers the crashing of a drumsets when Chan forgets to watch where he steps. She remembers stupid cover songs when they had time to kill. She remembers laughing. She remembers happiness. She remembers friendship.

Chapter 21 A Phoenix In The Winter

His world is in a perpetual winter. A little is no longer enough. He no longer needs food or love or inspiration. He no longer needs a band. He only needs a white winter and his presents come in pouches and needles.

He is losing his senses; of time, of himself, of everything really. One day is the same as the next and none of them bring him any closer to true stardom. His bursts of artificial energy only result in disjointed lyrics and half-assed ideas.

There is no organization and no real attempt to turn them into full songs. He has missed shows to the point of his tour being cancelled. It is so much money down the drain that even Iroh has turned his head. And when the word ‘rehab’ falls from his lips, Zuko runs. Perhaps not literally, but he hasn’t spoken to his uncle since, snubbing all attempts at conversation.

He is perpetually twitchy and agitated and Iroh makes a mistake. He enters the room, guns blazing, “Zuko, get in the car.” It is firm but not firm enough for him to put the needle down. The man sighs, “alright, nephew…”

The minute his hands take him by the shoulders, he is on the ground and Zuko is standing over him seething. “Don’t tell me what to do! What are you, anyways!? A fat, lazy, washed up rockstar! I don’t need advice from you!” But he does, he needs it more than ever. He yanks Iroh up and drags him to the door. He knows that uncle is holding back. He would be flat on his own ass if he wasn’t.

“Zuko, don’t do this. Let me help you get off of this path.” He hears as the door slams.

He is already too far down this path. His only option is to keep on walking. Walking down his cracked and lonely, frigid path. It is desolate now that drumsets, guitars, and microphones no longer clutter the street. He doesn’t pass many people. It is just he and the snow and it is falling thicker than ever.

Iroh hasn’t dropped him from the label yet, but he isn’t making anything of it and so it comes as no surprise to him when TyLee informs him that she would like to try her hand at the school’s gymnastics squad. He lets her go because she can have something. She can make something of herself.

He is less surprised when Mai declares that she is going to write a few poems or, “maybe just focus on school.”

It is fine with him, he doesn’t want to drag them under with him. And so he sits alone in the dark, huddled in a corner rocking back and forth, enveloped in a drug induced anxiety. A state of panic and paranoia that he can’t seem to stave off.

He is deep into it when his phone rings. “We need to talk.” Says the voice on the other end.

“Not right now, Mai. I can’t talk right now, Mai.”

She exhales long and audibly. “Yeah, that’s just it, Zuko. You never want to talk. You never want to do anything…” she backtracks some. “You only want to do one thing. You’re high right now aren’t you?”

“Yes...no?” He doesn’t remember. He isn’t sure if he is coming down or in the middle of a bad trip. “Mai? Mai, are you there.”

“I was there, Zuko. But I’m not now. Not anymore. I can’t be.” The line goes dead.

Phoenixes aren’t meant for snow. It is no wonder he is dying.

.oOo.

The school has been closed for hours now. The windows are as dark as he feels within. He scales his way up the roof. Up to the place where his hopes were born and discussed. He can practically taste the cigarette smoke, the anticipation, the energy that came with a dream in the making.

In its wake is a stale taste, he will drown it with another. He pops the cap off of his beer and gives it a good chug, music blasts loudly and aggressively through his headphones. He drapes them around his neck so that he may hear the cars below and the wind around him. It rustles his flannel shirt.

It’s a nice night, clear and warm. Spangled by a vast array of stars that he can’t seem to reach no matter how high he climbs, no matter how far he reaches. He lays back, he wishes he could relax but he doesn’t have enough coke in his system for it. He sits up for another good drink and then another until he feels a buzz. He doesn’t have enough bottles to take him any further. He supposes he doesn’t really need the help, he has his own woes and hopelessness to propel him the rest of the way.

He stands up and makes his way to the very edge of the roof. He swings his arms back and forth in preparation. He takes a deep breath, the song drones on. He takes another breath. Swings his arms. He’ll finish the song and that’s it. Then he’ll take flight.

He inhales deeply as the song fades out. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, inclined to throw it as hard as he can; at this point, Mai can go fuck herself. But it isn’t Mai’s name that decorates the screen. It isn’t TyLee’s. It isn’t even Iroh’s.

He doesn’t know why, but he picks up the phone. For a moment he only hears breathing, breathing and perhaps sniffling. It takes him a moment to realize what he is hearing, but before he can make anything of it, she speaks, “Zuzu?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Zuzu, I really need someone. I need you.”

Chapter 22 The Dragon & The Phoenix

His chest constricts and he grits his teeth. “I need someone too.” He turns off his music and kicks the empty bottles, they shatter upon the pavement below. “Where are you?” The line goes dead and a text comes through.

By all means, he shouldn’t be driving, but he climbs behind the wheel of Iroh’s car. Spirits, he hopes that he doesn't wreck it. Iroh is already furious.

Truth be told he hadn't known what to expect. Throughout the drive images flashed through his mind, each of them involving a drunkenly enraged Ozai and Azula huddled in the corner. When he reaches the studio he does fine her in the corner. But she is alone.

Alone and very heavily pregnant. He thinks that he remembers reading about that somewhere but, like many other things, it had slipped his mind. For a moment he thinks that he got the wrong address, he doesn’t recognize her with her belly so big and her expression so tired and defeated.

Even if he did have the wrong address, he wouldn’t have left. He couldn’t have. He can’t remember the last time he had sobered up so abruptly. With fumbling fingers he ties his headphones tightly around her arm just above her wrist.

Her other hand comes to squeeze his own wrist. “You don’t have to, it’s not that deep.” She mumbles softly.

“Not that deep!?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes. “I changed my mind. It’s...it’s really not that deep, I just need a bandage.” She gestures vaguely towards the door. “There’s a first aid kit in the lobby.”

He gets up to leave and hesitates, casting a look back at her.

“Go on, Zuzu. I’m not going to do anything else. I...I don’t want to die.”

He wishes that he could say the same. He comes back with the first aid kit and begins bandaging her wrist only to have her slap his hand away with a curt, “I can do it myself.”

He scoffs, “then what the fuck am I here for?”

She flinches. “Nothing, never mind. You can go.”

He rubs his hands over his face. He hasn’t spoken to her in so long, he’d forgotten how she can be. Even when she’s asking for help she can’t swallow her pride. Even when she’s asking for help she’s intolerable. He almost does leave but he thinks that if he does she might just change her mind a second time. He sighs, “why did you ask me to come here if you don’t want my help?”

She holds her silence until he is on the very edge of frustration. “I want you, Zuzu. I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“So I’m your last resort?”

She nods. At least he can commend her for her honesty.

“I think that I need to talk to you specifically.”

His brows furrow, “why do you think that?”

“Because you would understand.”

He tilts his head.

“What failure is like.” She elaborates.

He feels as though he has been punched in the gut. “Seriously, you called me here to insult me? I don’t need this shit right now, okay!”

She shakes her head vigorously. “I--no, that’s not what I meant.” She rubs her hands over her face. He cringes at the smear of blood she leaves behind. He doesn’t think that she has noticed. If she has, she doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

“What else can you mean?”

She thinks for a moment, “Empathy. I’m empathizing?”

He has to laugh. He face falls. It is his turn to clarify, “we’re a pathetic duo, aren’t we?”

She nods, “very.” She wipes the remaining tears from her eyes. “I suppose that it’s the rockstar lifestyle. The parts they don’t talk about…”

“Or it’s the father that raised us.” He grumbles. For once she doesn’t protest this. He wonders just what the man did to her. “What happened? You were doing so good.”

“So were you.” And with a shake of her head she adds, “no I wasn’t.”

“Neither was I…” He trails off.

“What happened…” she repeats the question back to him and then she rubs her good hand over her baby bump.

“Right. Yeah. That’ll do it.” He frowns. “Chan’s?”

“How’d you know?”

“He’s a total tool.” Zuko shrugs.

She laughs, a very quiet and sad sort of chuckle but a laugh no less. “What about you, Zuzu. I haven’t heard a thing about From Ashes To Phoenix since…”

“Since I went berserk and got arrested at my own concert? Yeah. Because there hasn’t been a thing to talk about since.”

“Not even one new song?”

“There’s no time for songs when you’re...when you’re…”

“On drugs?” She finishes. “Zuko, what happened to us? How did this happen?”

“It just did, I guess.” He frowns. It is much more complex than that. “Are you still with father, I’m sure that Iroh wouldn’t mind letting you stay with us. He probably needs a break from me.”

“I’m staying with Zhao. He got me a new record deal and…”

And Zuko is once again furious. Even when she’s falling, she’s still on her way up. She still has something going for her. She’s probably still getting good publicity. Hell, even bad publicity can take her far. It’s all about the spotlight and she decided to open her wrists. And with a baby in her belly. Perhaps that is why she changed her mind so quickly. Perhaps it is why she had made her initial decision. The anger passes as quickly as it had come over him. “I’m angry all the time.” He doesn’t mean to cut her off, it just falls from his lips. He hasn’t really gotten a chance to get it out.

“I can tell.” She replies. “It’s in your eyes.” She seems to hum to herself. “But you have Mai,TyLee, and Iroh, right?”

He shakes his head. “They’re all disappointed, mad, both?”

“Everyone, except Zhao--I guess--is angry with me.”

“For being pregnant?”

“For being...unbearable. You don’t even want to be here, Zuzu. I can tell.” “I don’t want to be anywhere, actually. It has nothing to do with you. Really, it doesn’t.” He pauses. “I was about to jump.”

“Why did you change your mind?”

“I was interrupted.”

She nods and then her eyes widen, only briefly, with understanding. “Why didn’t you call me?”

He almost tells her that it is because she is her. Instead he responds, “I didn’t think about it, I guess. Drugs do that.”

She nods again. And then her eyes light up. “You can record things with me! I won’t be alone anymore and you’ll be able to get back on track!”

“I can’t focus on music right now.”

And her face falls again.

“But you can still talk to me. I can go with you to appointments.” He offers.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Can I come with you to rehab?”

He rubs his hands over his face. “I guess. If Uncle is still willing to take me there.”

“He’s uncle. Of course he’ll still take you.”

Chapter 23 Life In The Embers

She feels both better and worse all at once. In a sense it had been liberating to let her emotions flood over, to get them out, to let herself reach the very bottom. There is a sense of calm that follows in its wake. A sense of calm that has compelled her to call Seicho and ask her if she could meet her in the recording studio. Only after the girl had said that she would think about it did Azula send her, her schedule for that week.

At the very least, she can talk to Zuko now. Even if much of their conversation has been getting him through the first stages of withdrawal. Truthfully it was nothing like she had expected.There was no shaking, no vomiting nor sweating. If she didn’t know him she would say that he wasn’t going through withdrawals at all. But she does know him well enough to know that he isn’t himself.

It has been six days since he’d found her with her bleeding wrists and five days since she’d accompanied him to his first rehab visit. Five days since Iroh, for the first time, looked at her with care and trust. Five days since she realized that she might not be left on her own with this baby. Five days and she is due to check in on Zuzu, if only to intimidate him into keeping on track.

She removes her studio headphones, hangs them up on their designated rack, and exits the recording booth.

“Done for the day?” Zhao asks.

Azula nods, “I promised Zuzu that I would meet him at The Serpant’s Pass Cafe. I’m ahead of schedule anyhow.”

“Very ahead. You’re only a song away from a full setlist.” Zhao agrees. “How about you take the day off. If you’re up for it, I can try to get in touch with a director and we can discuss a music video. It doesn’t have to be fancy…”

“I think that simplicity will work well for this new sound.” Azula agrees. “We’ll talk, Zhao.”

For the first time in a while, she leaves the recording studio with a smile. A smile and a sense that things will come together as they used to. She slips her sunglasses over her eyes and makes her way across the street as hastily and discreetly a possible. People are paying her attention again and it comes in the form of photo op and autograph requests and an occasional paparazzi intrusion. For now she evades their lurking.

She finds Zuko sitting at the corner most table of the cafe’s patio, already well into an appetizer. She slips into her chair only to find that it is not an appetizer at all, but spicy wings. “You started eating without me?”

He shrugs, “want one?”

She shakes her head.

“But you love spicy food.”

“The baby doesn’t.” She frowns.

“Well I already ordered the rest of our food.” He gestures to the waiter heading for their table with a rather absurd amount of platters. Between her pregnancy and his withdrawal cravings, she and him are a horrid duo in this regard. She thinks to question it only until Zuko begins tearing into his meal.

She rolls her eyes, “don’t be sloppy.” At least she can handle her liberal appetite with poise and grace.

“Don’tell me whadda do.” He grumbles through a mouthful.

She cringes. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He repeats himself. When he finally swallows the rest of his food he asks, “how have you been holding up.”

Azula sighs deeply, “I can’t breathe properly and I’ve had this annoying itch.”

“An itch.”

“On my belly.”

“Is that...normal?”

“Hama, my physician, says that it is. Something about skin expanding and dryness.” Nevermind the technicalities, the results are very mildly agitating. “And you, Zuzu?”

He frowns, “it’s hard Azula. You can’t even imagine.”

“You look better.”

“But I feel...restless and anxious. And depressed--I’m not sure if this is the drugs though.” He pauses. “I’m tired all the time and the nightmares don’t help.”

“What sort of nightmares?”

“They’re intense. Everyone is reminding me that I’m not going to amount to anything. Dad is always there. He...does things to me in these dreams. Worse than the real stuff.”

Azula nods.

“And Mai is there. So is TyLee, but she’s...weird. She contorts in ways that are crazy even for TyLee. I also had a dream that Aang, you remember him, right?”

“The neighbor kid with the big dog who liked to eat glue? I remember him, yeah. Why?”

“In one of my dreams he had these wild powers and there was this comet and Aang had to stop our father from using it to set the whole world on fire.”

Azula blinks, “Zuzu, there are corners of your mind that disturb me.”

He laughs. Admittedly it is nice to hear him laugh and nicer still to know that she has helped him laugh--a far cry from the distress she used to cause him.

“I suppose that I wouldn’t sleep easily either if I was dreaming about the glue kid getting superpowers.”

He laughs again. “Thanks for coming here, Azula. It’s nice to have someone to keep me company while I go through this.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Zuzu.” She roll her eyes. She knows that if he does and starts hitting the right cords that she’ll probably start weeping, a humiliating mess of chaotic hormones. “I suppose that I share the sentiment.” She taps her fingers nails against the tabletop, they have grown increasingly long as of late. “You should try to get in good graces with Mai and TyLee again.”

“So should you?” He quirks a brow.

“They’re your bandmates and you still have a chance if you get it together. You already have enough material for Audio of Agni, you just need some publicity. Good publicity.” She pauses. “Of course, you’ll need a band first.”

“Azula, I’m still going through withdrawals.”

“All the more reason to do it. You could use a distraction.”

“You’re a distraction.”

“A bigger distraction. I can’t be here all the time, I have doctor appointments and a career to keep on top of. I’ve only just started getting back on front pages…” for good reasons, she nearly adds, “I need to keep my momentum.”

“So you’re choosing your career over me.”

“I’m choosing my well-being, my baby’s well-being. I don’t really have many other options, a successful solo project is my best chance to provide for this baby.”

“Have you considered adoption?”

It comes like a slap to the face, though she doesn’t think that he means it as such. She bites back her initial scathing retort. “I’m not going through all of this discomfort, disowning, and humiliation just to give the baby away. It’s mine. I want her.”

Zuko lifts his hands, “alright, sorry.” He puts them back down. “I was just really hoping that you’d be here more. I know, I’m surprised too; you’re insensitive and kind of the worst.”

“You’re a funny man, Zuko.” She responds dryly. “I’m not going to abandon you, not when you’re this pathetic. I just think that you should have more support than just me.”

“Do you have any other support?”

“Seicho, hopefully.” She pauses and pushes her final plate aside. “I’d also like to speak with Mai and TyLee again.” She stands up and pushes her chair in.

“I’ll try to talk to them.”

“Make sure to mention that you’re in rehab and that you know you’re an asshole. The asshole bit is especially necessary with Mai.”

“I’ll call you and let you know how it goes?”

“It better go well.” She wishes herself the same luck.

.oOo.

Azula looks much better now, happier, healthier, stronger. There is a radiance about her, something subtle but still present. And it is no wonder; she is back in the press again and much of the headlines predict a groundbreaking and unexpected comeback. The boast of a fallen vocalist whose flame is rising again despite it all. Seicho wonders if the girl is even aware.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Seicho, it is nice to see you again.”

Seicho nods. “Sure, Azula.”

Her gait is rather awkward as she walks alongside her. It prompts Seicho to inquire, “are things going well with the baby?”

“Mostly, yes. Hama has a few concerns.”

“You look a lot better.” Seicho remarks.

“Ugg, if only I felt that way.”

It comes to Seicho then, that the girl is breathing quite heavily, “do you need me to slow down.”

Azula nods, “a little bit yes.”

Seicho chuckles and slings her arm over Azula’s shoulders. She wishes that the girl weren’t so endearing, maybe then she could have drawn her resentment out longer. As things are, Azula is quite precious with her semi-clumsy gait and that genteler twinkle in her eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I would like you to consider not being angry with me anymore.”

Seicho bursts out laughing. “Azula, that is the worst peacemaking opener I have ever heard.”

“How am I supposed to do it?”

“‘I’m sorry that I went off on you for no reason’, would be a good way.”

Azula’s cheeks flush. Seicho thinks that hers might be growing pink as well. She’s adorable, unquestionably so. “I...don’t usually...apologize to people.”

“I can tell.”

Her entire face is red now.

“You’re doing pretty alright.

“Does that mean you are considering my proposal? To not be mad at me?”

Seicho rolls her eyes. “Yes, that’s what it means.” That hopeful little smile seals the deal. “You wanna tell me about your new song ideas? This new concept is...different.”

“Do you like it?”

“I think that it suits you well.” Seicho replies. “You have a pretty voice. I didn’t realize that you had that kind of range. The breathing techniques are really bizarre but they sound neat.”

“Oh, those aren’t techniques. That is me suffering while I try to sing with this baby crushing my lungs.” Her eyes go wide for a flicker. “You’ve been listening to my new music?”

“N-no, well, it’s been on the radio so I couldn’t avoid it!”

She shakes her head, “you listened enough to be able to give me a review.”

“Fine, I’ve been listening to your new material. But I was still mad the whole time, okay? I was listening with resentment.”

Chapter 24

With a new digital album release and a highly anticipated music video in the works, Azula is growing confident again though Audio Of Agni still seems to be far out of her reach. If she makes the right moves and if her pregnancy doesn’t spring up any surprises, she might just be able to make it without the competition. It isn’t ideal and it is terribly frustrating, but at least she doesn’t feel so helpless anymore.

Mostly she feels drained and achy. Her sides stitch from time to time and her entire lower body is growing sore from carrying so much extra weight around. She exhales, she isn’t sure how much more of this she can take. Hama had warned her about the small contractions but they still take her by surprise every time.

They happen now, and when she could really use a break from them. She is just thankful that she is through with recording. From the looks of it, she will have to find a way to shoot the music video mostly sitting or laying. She has passed several ideas onto Zhao, her favorite being a trip to the local theater where she can perch herself on a stool and sing to an empty venue. They can make use of dramatic lighting and add glitter or glow effects electronically. It is simple and will rely on old time Noh theater aesthetics and a stunning costume. She anticipates that the mask will be the most expensive piece. The simpler, one location video will leave plenty of room in the budget for that.

She casts a look at the door. “They’ll be here soon.” Seicho assures her.

“But what if they decide not to come? Mai, TyLee, and I haven’t parted on good terms.” She rubs her hand over her belly.

“You’ve been helping Zuko out so much, you practically saved their band, how mad can they be?”

She isn’t sure that she wants to find out. Not that she has the chance to retract her invitation she hears a knock and climbs to her feet. Her bump lightly knocks against the table as she does so and she curses to herself. “I can get it, you know?”

Azula waves her hand dismissively. “I’m pregnant, not useless.”

.oOo.

Zuko hadn’t realized just how much a few weeks could change a person. Her cheeks are rosier and the bump is bigger still. In spite of it all, her look of prowess and determination has returned. She wears her pride as though it had never slipped from her grasp at all. Frankly, he hadn’t realized that it was truly missing until having seen it returned.

“Oh wow, you’re so big!” TyLee comments,clasps her hands, and holds them to her lips.

Azula’s face, already flushed lightly, grows redder still.

“How far along are you?” TyLee asks.

“Month six.” Azula huffs as she gestures them inside.

“Congratulations?” Mai quirks a brow.

She clears her throat, “thank you.”

He watches her make her way to her seat. She backtracks to fetch her water bottle and semi-clumsily saunters her way back to her seat.

“Still adjusting?” Mai asks.

“Constantly adjusting.” Azula grumbles before taking a drink. She rests her free hand on the bump. “You’re mostly done going through withdrawals, yes, Zuzu?”

He nods. “Sometimes I still really want to use again. Badly. It’s unbearable...it would be if I didn’t…”

“Take my advise and get back into the music industry? Yes, I am aware. You are welcome.” He has to laugh at her audacity, at least these days it is somewhat endearing. “You look a lot better Zuzu. Your eyes don’t have bags that reach to the floor anymore.”

“I don’t know if you’re trying to compliment me or insult me.”

“It’s a compliment, I’m saying that you don’t look like a walking corpse anymore.”

Somehow, he does feel a sense of pride in that. It is progress. Progress that he has made. Progress that he is still making. And she isn’t the only one who has noted these changes. Azula has certainly changed radically in the past few weeks, but he can’t deny that the changes in him have been just as dramatic even if they are less outwardly perceived. He does feel better about himself; he feels more inspired than ever, more creative and, for a change, it isn’t synthetic. It is all him, his mind, his...brilliance. He thinks that he can consider himself smart, at the very least he can consider himself not dumb.

She pulls out a pen and a sheet of paper. “So let’s start talking about music. I read over some of your new lyrics, they are rather solid they can just use some fine tuning and better penmanship, I don’t know what this is supposed to say.” She gestures to the worst of his chicken scratch.

He finds himself beaming regardless. She had given him a real compliment. He has written something worth singing. He could cry...

“Azula, can we just...be friends again first?” TyLee asks.

Her brows furrow, “you want to be friends again.”

TyLee smiles and nods. “To be honest, I don’t really even remember why we were fighting.”

“Because she kept picking on my boyfriend and working us to exhaustion.” Mai shrugs.

Azula’s expression darkens again.

“To be fair, she’s been working herself to exhaustion.” Zuko steps in.

She shrugs again, “I suppose that I don’t know many other people who work this hard six months in.”

“I have a lot that needs to be accomplished.”

“And you only have until battle of the bands to do it?”

“Solo artists can’t join.” She frowns, only to perk up again when adding, “but I’ve already written a setlist and a few ideas just in case.”

Zuko laughs, “of course you did.”

“Who is this?” TyLee points to Seicho.

She looks up from her phone, “I’m Azula’s girlfriend.”

“You are?” TyLee and Azula ask at once.

Seicho looks at Azula, “I thought that you knew that.”

“Azula is clueless.” Mai rolls her eyes. “You can take her on as many dates as you’d like, you can kiss her several times--”

“I have! Mostly in the recording booth between songs.” She declares.

“--And she still won’t put two and two together until you tell her that you’re dating.”

Seicho drapes her arm over Azula’s shoulder and pulls her closer. Her other hand reaches for Azula’s. “I go with her to her appointments too. I figured that she can pretend like I’m the baby’s father since Chan is an ass.”

“It’s Chan’s?” TyLee gasps. “He said that--”

“He lied. It is easier to make me out to be...dangerously promiscuous.”

“Oh Azula, I’m sorry.”

Azula offers only a dismissive wave. “Enough baby and drama talk. We need to start discussing music before the studio closes for the night. They lock up on Mondays for cleaning.”

.oOo.

All in all the night has been a success on a musical level and on a social level. The departure of Mai and TyLee is such a stark contrast to their last one. They part with an offer to team up with and do vocals for From Ashes To Phoenix should they make it to Audio Of Agni as well as an offer to invite her to game night at Iroh’s.

“I don’t know, card games, potato chips, and a super campy horror movie sound great!” Seicho declares. “Do you think that they’ll be down for basement tattoos?”

“Probably.” Azula answers nonchalantly. “Exactly how do you plan to get this past your parents? The last time I checked, they said that they didn’t want you hanging around some tramp.”

“They’re never home.” She shrugs. “And when they are, they don’t really pay much attention to me. They didn’t even know that I was a tattoo artist until I came home with a sleeve.”

“I see.” She replies. “Am I dropping you off at home or are you coming with me to Zhao’s place?”

“Zhao’s place! He makes a bitchin’ yakitori!”

Chapter 25 A Phone Call

If Iroh has an issue with the blearing music, he keeps it to himself. Azula reaches for another chip. “Hmmm...truth or dare, Azula?” She puts down the chip.

“Dare.”

“You’ve been picking dare all night!” She frowns, putting her hands on her hips.

“What can I say, I’m a daring person.”

“You just don’t want to tell the truth.” Seicho nudges her.

“I dare you to pick truth next time someone asks you to.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Mm mm, it’s not.” TyLee shakes her head, “we didn’t establish that rule when we were establishing the other rules.

“Truth or dare, Mai?”

“Dare.”

TyLee puffs out her cheeks. “You guys never pick truth!”

“I dare you to be the first one to get a tattoo tonight.”

“I’ll get one right now.” Mai shrugs. “I’ve had one on my mind for a while now.”

“Kickass! What can I get for you?” Seicho asks. “You can sketch it out while I get set up.” She leans in to kiss Azula on the forehead before getting up.

“Truth or dare, Zuko?”

He glances at TyLee before choosing dare.

“I dare you to…”

Azula leans over and whispers in her ear.

“I dare you to prank call Zhao.”

He punches Zhao’s number into the landline pinpad. “Hello, is this Zhao?”

Azula, Mai, and TyLee lean over his shoulder.

“Yes, this is Sokka. I am interested in getting a record deal.” He clears his throat. “Sorry, I’m nervous, I’ve never asked for a record deal before. But I have this great concept its...uh…” He looks at Azula. “It’s uh...okay, picture this, seven minutes of dog barks with occasional bursts of that noise you hear when you’ve lost TV signal.” He listens. “No, no! This is a totally serious pitch! I’ve even named the track it’s called, ‘Bark At The Static’ and I think that I’d be great touring with that guy who dresses up as a cabbage and Yodels.”

TyLee snickers.

The line goes dead and Azula sits down to finally have her chip. She dips it into the salsa.

“Okay, truth or truth, Azula?”

She rolls her eyes. “Truth number two.”

“Hmmm, do you miss being in Blue Talon.”

“A little, I suppose. I don’t think that I’d like to go back to them though. They lack integrity.” She scoffs. “They’re using my story to sell the band.”

“Your story?” Mai asks.

“I wrote about father before I was kicked out of the band.”

“I write about him too.”

“Yes, Zuzu, I’ve been helping you write those songs.”

“Right.”

“Everything’s all set up. You didn’t sketch, did you?”

Mai fishes through her bag, “I did a while ago.” Azula looks it over. It’s a darkly alluring sketch of a hand holding a punctured heart, weeping roses and thorns. “I want it on my left shoulder blade and a simple throwing star on the right one.”

While Mai gets herself comfortable in Seicho’s makeshift chair, Azula reclains and reads through the newsfeed. Blue Talon is still soaring high as ever, but From Ashes To Phoenix is already garnering heavy attention with their new single announcement. The whole thing was rather sappy story about Zuko’s recent rehab struggles and an apology for acting out on stage. And for herself, Dragon Tongue is finally being praised for her stunning vocals and her soft, divine sound.

Azula is still rather conflicted about how quickly they were to turn from accusing her of pregnancy being obscene and raunchy to them gushing about how a baby on the way is the finishing touch on her new, soothing sound. She supposes that she should be thankful that they are speaking well of her again, regardless of hypocrisy. She wonders if her father is reading these headlines; wonders if her is proud or if he is seething--fuming because she is still rising despite his efforts to snuff her flame.

“What sort of tattoos were the rest of you thinking of getting?”

“I just want a cute little cherry blossom on my pinky!” TyLee answers.

“A broken chain.” Zuko replies. “On my bicep.”

Azula thinks for a moment. “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out. I have to wait until after the baby is born.”

“Oh, right!” Seicho replies. “Maybe I can help you design one.”

Her phone vibrates in her hand, the number on the screen is unfamiliar. “Hello?”

“Azula?”

“Yes.”

“This is Raava.”

“Raava!?”

She hears the tattoo gun flick off and four heads turn in her direction.

“You have a gift and it will be heard at Audio Of Agni. I’d like to talk with you about a loophole that I found.”

“What sort of loophole?”

“You have done work with From Ashes To Phoenix, yes?”

“I will be recording with them soon.”

“I am going to extend a formal invitation to From Ashes To Phoenix. Given their cooperation, you will perform two of three songs with them and one solo.”

She hadn’t expected to cry that night, but she does. She feels like a fool crying in front of all of them, but she is so relieved. Relieved and hopeful. She hasn’t lost her dream.

It will be an absolute treat to see the shock and horror radiate off of Blue Talon when she makes her appearance. And a larger treat to show her father that her worth is beyond what he can give her.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula/Cupholder girl #Zuko #Mai #Maiko #TyLee #Fanfiction #Very Long Text

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asthesamcroflies · 4 years

Text

REQUEST: Shattered

So, I had a request come in via messages, which is fine by the way, I can just post the details of it in order to reply publicly - I have to confess it’s something different for me, but I decided to give it a go to challenge myself. I don’t think I’ve ever written anything with that Son-on-Son vibe before, not for any particular reason, I just tend to have stuck closer to canon. Hopefully it’s not terrible lol - I did end up not going down the smut route, just cause I thought that slightly ambiguous, unspoken feel worked for this. I did kinda get all up in my own feels lol, so fingers crossed you guys like it...

Here’s the request details: Chibs, Tig, Juice (mentioned. Post series.) - Sad, Romantic, Smutty (if you want, it's not required) - 18, 15, 21 Past Chibs/Juice. Prez/VP dynamic. Chibs is shattered, he needs love, he needs peace of mind. Tiggy sees clearly this.

Prompt 18: “Please don’t do this.” 15: “Do you still think about her/him?” 21: “Would a kiss help?”

Shattered

It was late. Or early depending on how you wanted to look at it.

For once though, the Samcro clubhouse lay quiet and deserted. Almost. The new, eager-to-please prospect had tried to stay on to clear up, but had probably been barked at to get the hell out. That was an end to the night that was becoming more and more common – Sons, hangers-on and croweaters slipping away in the face of their stern president’s glare.

His vice president sighed heavily at that, wiping a hand over his face as he leaned in the doorway and took in the slumped shoulders and reaper on the back of the man he’d vowed to support come hell or high water. He could remember a time when the brash Scotsman was the life and rowdy soul of every fucking party.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?

Tig knew, perhaps better than most, what it was to carry guilt, remorse, self-loathing. He’d been there for the near-apocalyptic series of clusterfucks that had torn right to the heart of their club and all but destroyed it, so he knew the burden Chibs now had to bear in trying to see what could be salvaged from the ashes – all while desperately trying not to ignite any simmering embers that could flare up and burn them all to the ground all over again.

But it never got any easier to see him struggle under that weight.

He was about to speak, to make his presence known, when Chibs downed whatever was left in his glass and slammed it down on the bar, before stumbling to his feet and crossing the room to stand in front of the framed mugshots of members past and present, those honoured and those who now hung upside down, crossed out, disgraced and a warning to those who may come after them not to stray too far from the club’s rules, spoken and unspoken.

Tig knew from his own reaction to that wall, once a source of pride, how deep it cut Chibs to see it now. In both their minds, Jax Teller still deserved better than to be remembered solely as having brought shame on the patch. Their young president had lost his way, had made mistakes – catastrophic mistakes at that – but he had suffered for it enough and, at the last, had owned his part in his own downfall. Those he had left behind couldn’t help but cling to their love for their young president, or else what had it all been for?

But they had to put up a façade to appease Packer and the other club presidents. They knew the enormity of Jax’s crimes and the price that had to be paid. It didn’t mean they had to like it.

But as Chibs’ hand reached out for a different photo, touching it lightly before his fingers curled into a tight fist, Tig knew there was a fate that was even more complicated for the Scot to come to terms with. He had loved Jax like a brother, like a son even. Juice … Juice had been something else.

That fist lashed out, shattering glass that bit into flesh and drew a hiss of pain, even through what was undoubtedly an alcohol-induced fog. But despite lifting the hand to examine the damage, despite seeing the shard of glass still embedded in it, Chibs only slowly clenched that fist again, forcing it deeper as blood seeped from the ragged wound.

Tig was the one who winced.

“Please don’t do this,” he blurted out, unable to witness any more of this without intervening.

Chibs slowly uncurled his fingers, never turning around. “Go home, Tiggy,” he murmured, the words slurred and his accent thicker than ever.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna leave you in this fucking state,” his VP scoffed, finally galvanised into action and snatching up what he hoped was a clean cloth as he strode across the clubhouse to take charge. “Lemme see this mess. Jesus…”

He had to force himself to be less gentle than he’d have liked, for reasons he didn’t care to fully explore, but he was still careful as he examined the bloody hand Chibs had been left nursing, tutting over the shard of glass before slowly working it out and pressing the cloth to the wound to stem the bleeding. It looked worse than it was, but it was still bad enough.

“You might get away without stitches,” Tig decided. “So you wanna thank your lucky stars, brother, because I can’t sew for shit.”

“Lucky,” Chibs echoed dully, with a bitter little laugh. “Aye, that’s me – real fucking lucky. I need a damn drink…”

“No, you fucking don’t,” Tig insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders to steer him away from the bar and into a seat.

“Just leave me be, Tigger,” the weary president sighed, raking his uninjured hand through the salt and pepper of his hair. “I ain’t exactly good company right now.”

“What’s new?” Tig snarked, but there was nothing but sympathy and concern in those sharp blue eyes as he sat down opposite his closest of brothers. “You can’t go on like this, man. Ain’t right.”

“Got a choice, do I?” Chibs demanded, the raw agony in his voice and in his brown eyes making even his battle-hardened VP flinch. “Want me to throw up a rope and have done wi’ it? Like… Like Juice.”

Tig stood up so fast his chair overturned with a crash and he jabbed a furious finger in his friend’s face. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he seethed. “Don’t you fucking dare! Tell me that’s bullshit. Tell me you wouldn’t. Tell me!”

“Aye, aye, fine,” Chibs reneged, taken aback even through his haze by the strength of the response to his flippant suggestion. “Fuck, I … I ain’t taking that way out. I ain’t, brother. Sit the fuck down.”

Still furious, Tig glared at him the whole time he was righting his chair and banging it back into place, before sitting down opposite him again. “Asshole,” he snapped, his glare only intensifying when Chibs actually managed a little laugh, wiping his hand over his face.

“Ah, Tigger,” he sighed. “Good to know ya care, brother.”

“Course I fucking care, shithead,” came the heated response. “You think I stuck around for the good of my fucking health? I said I’d always have your back and I damn well meant it. So you don’t get to punk out on me like a little bitch.”

“Your TLC could use some work…”

“Fuck you.”

Chibs chuckled humourlessly. “Love you too, Tigger. You gonna at least let me have one wee drink now me hand’s stinging like a motherfucker?”

“You’ve already had the better part of one wee bottle, by the looks of things,” Tig grimaced, before relenting and getting up to retrieve a couple of glasses and the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, pouring them both a drink and downing his swiftly. He figured he had a lot of catching up to do.

Seeing Chibs’ gaze land somewhere over his shoulder, Tig looked around to follow it back to the photos on the wall and specifically to the one that now hung behind shattered glass. And not for the first time.

“Do you still think about him?”

It was a stupid question, Tig knew that. The answer couldn’t be more obvious. But it was actually the only way he could think to even broach the subject of something deeper.

“I let that lad down,” Chibs mumbled, taking another swig of his drink. “I coulda done somethin’, stopped it ever gettin’ that far.”

“He was a rat,” Tig reminded him, although not unkindly. “That’s on him.”

“He was an easy target,” Chibs shook his head. “He tried to come to me wi’ it. I didn’t hear him out. Not properly. We were all he had and I didn’t listen, didn’t see what was goin’ on in front o’ me own bloody nose.”

For a long moment, his VP could only sit in silence, musing on all the mistakes he’d made in his own life. The hurt he’d caused, to himself and his family, to others caught in his crossfire. He knew what it was to bear that burden. He didn’t want that for Chibs.

“What’s done is done,” he said finally. “Can’t change it, any of it. Can only learn from it. But you gotta let go, brother. You gotta let go or this is gonna eat you up from the inside out.”

“Easier said than done,” Chibs said quietly, his forced smile wry. “You know that.”

“I do,” Tig nodded, after a pause. “But I had you. And you’ve got me. So don’t forget that, you prick. You’ve got me. And I fucking need you. I can’t do any of this shit without you.”

Chibs looked up at the crack in his VP’s voice to find Tig was the one with his head down now. Slowly, he reached out to let his fingers trail through those wild dark curls.

“Oi,” he said roughly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, you hear me?”

“Didn’t sound like that,” Tig mumbled. “Never does when you start talking like that.”

“Look at me,” Chibs demanded, finally trying to pull himself together at the realisation of what he’d done. “Look at me, Tigger. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I promise you, my brother.”

“How do I know you ain’t just bullshitting me again?”

“When have I ever lied to you? About anything serious?” Chibs demanded, albeit with a swift amendment to account for the creative ways he had been known to get around his VP when he had to.

“You said you’d stop blaming yourself.”

The hurt beneath the accusatory tone stopped the Scotsman dead and he reached out to rest a hand on his VP’s shoulder. “I am trying, brother.”

“I know,” Tig sighed, covering the hand with his own ringed fingers. “I know.”

Chibs pulled him close. “Would a kiss help?” he murmured, already planting a firm kiss on the other man’s cheek.

“You ain’t getting off that light, asshole.”

Chibs could only laugh at that despite himself, his lips grazing skin again. “Ah, Tigger, last two standing… Never thought it would be us.”

“As long as it ain’t just me,” came the quiet, yet fervent response.

It was a sentiment that both warmed and broke Chibs’ heart.

#soa #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction #soa prompts #soa requests #chibs telford #tig trager #juice ortiz #jax teller

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jazzytriestowrite · 4 years

Note

Can I request a hq one shot for Tsukishima? Maybe where the reader confesses to him that she likes him, but then downplay it and walk off, because she thought it'd be pointless to tell him/he wouldn't like her the same, but in reality he does like her :> tyy 💕🧡💞

Fandom; Haikyuu!!

Pairing; Tsukishima Kei X Female Reader

Synopsis; You were tired of running in circles, tired of not knowing if your best friend had liked you back or not, or if you were a fool with a one sided crush. Deciding to get it over with once and for all, you pull Tsukishima to the side and confess your silly crush to him hoping that in the end you gain a boyfriend and not a broken heart.

Warning; Fluff, well as fluffy as a Tsukishima fic can be

Word count; 2155

A/N; I have been feeling low for some time, and actually saw this request and my heart leaped. I hope you enjoy this maddi!! Hope i did this salty hoe some justice :))

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

You had to do this.

You were tired of sneaking glances at him in class, face heating up every time you were caught or the teacher called you out about it. You were tired of sitting with him at lunch and pretending like your heart didn’t hurt every time he called you his ‘friend.’ It was tiresome, and if you had to deal with being unintentionally friendzoned again, you would rip out all of your hair and move to some farmtown to live out the rest of your days hiding from society.

His constant teasing was starting to leave a huge impact on you, and instead of getting snarky like you usually got with him, you ended up going silent whenever he playfully insulted you. Now taking his playful insults more personally than ever.

You had to do this. The fear of not knowing if he liked you back or if the side glances and extra touchie gestures were nothing but him getting more comfortable with you. Being kept in the dark had only made it more frustrating. You needed to confess and see what happened after that. No matter what happened, he was still your best friend first right?

Wrong.

While you were trying to give yourself that lovely pep talk, you had finally noticed that your palms were sweating. Rubbing them together created a grimmy feeling that made your stomach turn and rumble. The sudden confidence you had earlier had vanished, and now your hands gripped the end of your skirt, shaking lightly as they fiddled with the flimsy material.

You had now stopped in your strut towards the blonde haired male, watching as he messed with his headphones, probably going to put them on and start heading home as usual. Were you going to stand here in fear, never to confess and watch as the boy you’ve liked for so long slip out of your grasp because you were too nervous and too scared to admit you had some silly crush on him?

Taking a step forward, your words died in your throat as you felt a sudden chill. Panic clawed at your throat, making you momentarily freeze. The sudden thought of being rejected flooded your mind, and now just the thought of that made it hard to breathe.

He was your best friend, yes, but who's to say he wouldn’t suddenly start ignoring you because you had made it weird between the two of them? Would you be the one to ruin such a good friendship the two of you had just because you ended up catching feelings.

While you kept tearing yourself down, making it seem like there wasn’t any hope, a small flicker of hopefulness filled your heart. The ‘what if’ he did like you backs filled your mind, drowning out the raging negativeness that seemed to overflow your brain.

What was the point in all these ‘what if’s?’ Why not just figure it out and then go from there, in the end, admitting your feelings to someone wasn’t a crime, and sure as hell shouldn’t end a good friendship the two of you had built if it was a genuine one.

“Tsukishima!’’ You call out, breath catching in your throat as you watched him whip his head in your direction, a scowl already sitting on his face. Walking towards him, you gripped your bag tightly in your hands, making confident steps towards the tall male.

Looking down upon you, Tsukishima didn’t look too impressed to see you standing in front of him. Or maybe he did? You could never tell because he either had a scowl on his face or a teasing grin, and both you didn’t like in the slightest.

“What is it y/n, if you couldn’t tell, I was trying to leave this hellhole and go home for some peace and quiet” He says bluntly, golden eyes staring you down as the height difference between you two became more apparent than ever. His tone was the usual annoying one, the one where it made it feel like you were bothering him.

Gripping your bag tighter, you open your mouth to say something but instead end up closing it with nothing coming out. The panic was still there yes, but standing in front of him right had made it more real now that it was really happening. Shifting back and forth on your feet, you looked everywhere but his eyes now, knowing you wouldn’t be able to tell him when his unwavering gaze was on you.

That was your first mistake, showing him such a panicky side of you would only make him more interested in what you had to say, and that was a known fact. Now instead of looking at you with disinterest, he now had a shit eating grin on his face. His whole demeanor changed in a second, taking your moment of weakness lightly and in his favor. He was now interested. It was easy to see.

His hand now rested on his hip and he leaned in closer to you, wanting you to spit out whatever you had to say to him. He had even stopped messing with his headphones. His attention was now all on you, and you didn’t like it.

“Come on cupcake, by now I could have been halfway home”

His words were playful and provoking. You knew it was too late to go back, he already knew something was up, and giving him some lame excuse or telling him nevermind would surely make him angry.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and met his golden eyes once more, trying not to get sucked into the beauty of them. He was always handsome when he grinned at you, since it was so different from the scowl he gave everyone else.

“Any Day now, I believe I’ve aged a few years standing here like a fool”

“I LIKE YOU OKAY”

You blurt out, his previous statement making you just spit it out. It had felt good to finally say it, but it also made you cringe when you realized you yelled. What made it worse was when you noticed that a few students had stopped their chatter and walking, stopping to look at you who had created a scene.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you continue your previous statement. ‘’I like you, way more than friends. You are very annoying and half the time punching you seems like the greatest idea in the world. Despite your often teasing, I’ve come to like your annoying, weird, dino loving ass and keeping it to myself has been tough. I just want to let you know how I feel, in the hopes that you like-”

You had paused in your mini rant when your eyes met his again, searching his face for any changes. You had been able to catch the flicker of shock that had crossed his features, but it had changed to his usual shit eating grin again. That grin had made you nervous once more, making your heart close up and your words die in your throat.

‘’You know what” You take a step back, letting your eyes fall to the ground in shame. “April fools, bet I got you huh” Your voice didn’t match your words, and instead of your usual upbeat voice, it was replaced with a sad tone, a tone on the verge of tears. “I’m a good prankster I know”

The silence that you were met with only fueled your now aching heart. ‘’I gotta go’’ You say, turning around and walking away before you not only embarrassed yourself more, like crying in front of a guy who would definitely make fun of you for it.

You felt a hand grab your wrist, and before you could shake it off, you were turned around abruptly, head almost falling off your neck at the sudden force. Stumbling towards the male who had pulled you back, your teary eyes met Tsukishima’s once more. A silent ‘what’ being communicated through your expression.

You watched as he leaned in, so close you felt your face burn painfully now that you could feel his soft breath on you. One of his hands came up and was placed on your cheek, softly caressing the soft flesh. His eyes were filled with an emotion you had never seen before on him, and that took your breath away.

The sunlight had perfectly hit his features, making his golden blonde hair look gorgeous in this lighting. The light breeze helped in his favor, blowing it in the wind to add an extra effect to this moment. His large hand caressing your cheek had made you flustered, along with the look he was giving you. How he had to slightly bend to reach your height added some magic to it.

“You idiot, I had thought I was being perfectly clear with the hints I was dropping. Don’t be scared y/n, I’ve liked you for a while too, and while I may be very annoying, you probably didn’t notice that I ONLY act that way with you.’’ He paused, gazing into your eyes for a few more seconds. “y/n, you can stop being so nervous now” One hand now rested at your hip, holding you in place.

Was this some sort of dream? Her crush just admitted he liked her back and was also acting all cute instead of douche. The new unknown side he was showing you had made your heart race, and for a while you couldn’t even think of something to say. Instead your mind was filled with happiness. He wasn’t that much of a jerk after all.

The way he stared at you like you were the only girl here made you feel special. The way he was publicly grabbing you without being ashamed of what someone else seeing had also made your heart flutter. Maybe Tsukishima could be that hot guy who showed his true feelings to someone he liked, someone who deserved his attention.

“Ow” Your hands fly up to your forehead, your body stepping back and ripping yourself from his embrace. While you had thought the two of you were having a moment, he had decided that your lovey dovey time was over and flicked your forehead with a bit of too much force.

Laughing, his shit eating grin was back. “Idiot, acting all nervous and stuff like I was going to reject someone like you’’ It had sounded like an insult, but listening in closer you heard the compliment amidst it.

Opening and closing your mouth, you watched as he rolled his eyes at you. “Let's not stand here any longer, we should get walking. And maybe, just maybe we can stop and get some snacks” He says, using your shock to slip his big hand into your tiny one. He didn’t give you a chance to notice, instead tugging you so you would start walking.

And god, if you had pointed it out he would have surely blushed at being caught trying to be smooth.

In the end, you hadn’t cared enough to point it out. Instead, you silently agreed to his previous statement. The toll of being stressed out and worried had finally worn off, happiness filling your insides. You had claimed yourself a salty french fry, YOUR salty french fry. Nothing felt better than this.

Tsukishima walked, hand in hand with you in silence. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was a mutual silence that felt good. The two of them needing the time to comprehend everything that happened in such a small amount of time.

Since your eyes were averted, he finally dropped his shit eating grin, a real genuine smile replacing it instead. It might sound weird, but he wasn’t just some cocky bastard who had no feelings. He was a human being who had crushes as well.

And as he watched your big grin as your eyes stared off ahead had made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He had liked you for some time, but he himself wasn’t brave enough to say something and opted to drop crazy hints instead. While that didn’t work, he still got himself a girlfriend in the end.

Watching you be happy about being with someone like him amazed him. How you lightly swayed their intertwined hands was making him feel some kind of way, a feeling he wasn’t used to. You were the prettiest girl in the world to him, and just the thought of someone like you liking him back made him feel good.

He had liked you so much, and now that he was able to act on his feelings, he would be sure to give you hell.

He was, after all, Tsukishima Kei, the saltiest human to exist.

“Also, It’s march, not April you fool.”

#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei x reader #fluff

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