#like a book club basically where each book is a assigned a few months to read it within out of the year

[hanzajesthanza]

we need a read the hussite trilogy 2024 initiative

[kyliafanfiction]

Contract Bound by Elle Mae

Tl;dr

Contract Bound by Elle Mae is a lesbian vampire x vampire hunter enemies to lovers romance.

It is an good read, though obviously if one isn't interested in a dark, toxic - to varying degrees - f/f romance involving vampires, it may not be for you.

Personally? I very much enjoyed it, and while I have too many books on my too read-pile to spend the money on the sequel now, I will almost certainly be getting the sequel (Lost Clause) sooner or later. Whether or not you will like it depends on you. Perhaps the longer review below the readmore will help you decide. (see the bottom of the post for a non-exhaustive list of links on where to get it, as well as details on potential triggers the story contains)

The Premise

The book centers on two characters - Silva, a Hunter for The Order, which is the organization that polices vampires and hunts ones that break the law. They also can be contracted by vampires (law-abiding ones) to protect them against other vampires, or 'Rebels' (humans that want to kill all vampires, even ones that don't kill or who can't be proven to have broken the laws) Her parents were hunters, and she came home one day to find them killed by vampires. (This is all shown in the prologue). She signs up with the Order, and devotes her life to killing vampires. She hates vampires.

The other character is Keir, the heir to the most powerful vampire clan in the world, or so we are told, and a child who acts out to piss off her father. She is due to inherit the clan soon, due to laws imposed by the order that put limits on how long clan heads may remain clan heads. her father, Raphael, is not happy about it, and does everything he can to try and control and restrict her, including contracting with the Order to get her a bodyguard/babysitter to keep her from going out to clubs, picking up girls, seducing them, drinking from them, taking them home, fucking them, wash rinse repeat. Keir, not wanting a bodyguard/babysitter, has gone out of her way to seduce, tempt or otherwise convince every hunter she's gotten assigned to her to break the contract or the rules hunters must abide by. As the back of the book says "whether it was sex, money or power, none of them could resist the temptation."

Obviously, you can see where this is going - the Order sends Silva to be the latest guard, trusting in the fact that she hates vampires so much, and the fact that if she completes the contract her entire debt to the order will be paid off (more on that later) to make sure she stays in line. it's only a few months, and then Keir will be clan head after the power transfer.

And of course, Keir immediately sets out to seduce Silva, only to find out that it isn't quite as simple as she thought it would be - and then, as tensions between them rise, and things happen, they're both faced with a reality they quickly want to deny, each for their own reasons.

It is, about what you'd expect - mostly. In terms of basic tropes and premises, it is an enemies to lovers story involving a vampire and a vampire hunter. It manages to be more than just the tropes, but if you don't like the tropes, you won't like the book.

I will warn that the ending is far, far from happy - it isn't unhappy, this story is not a Dead Lesbian Trope story, but bear that in mind. If you want your queer, toxic vampire drama to end on a fairly positive note, this book is not for you. Admittedly, I do hold out hope that the sequel will provide at least a bittersweet ending, but I was content with the ending for this book, knowing a sequel existed.

The Pros

The two characters have strong voices, and you will find yourself enjoying their POVs, and rooting for their romance as it starts to take hold. It has just the right notes of spiciness in all the right places.

It is indeed very hot, and the humor, dark though it often is, hits quite well. It has a fairly engaging cast of secondary characters operating around the main couple, and it presents Silvia with several moral challenges about her role as a Hunter and the Order, and equally, forces Keir to consider things in ways she never had before. Keir finds herself quickly fascinated by this hunter she can't break, who so clearly wants her, and of course, once Silvia starts to give in, she has that hatred for Keir mixed with the fact she hates herself for not hating Keir as much as she should.

The plot manages to have a number of satisfying twists, that while I didn't see coming - or at least not in the way they did, in some cases - they feel earned, rather than unearned or out of nowhere.

It is exactly what I was looking for involving lesbians, vampires, and enemies to lovers. It hit all the right notes in every way - I've said it several times, but if you are looking for what this story is, then it is very good, and you likely will enjoy it.

The ending was intensely emotionally satisfying despite being not happy. In a 'wreck the reader' sort of way.

The Neutral

The story lacks a strong sense of place, at least to me - the action mostly happens in and around Seattle, by all accounts, but for all that that is relevant, the story could be happening anywhere in America. There's tantalizing hints as to why so many vampires are in America, including the leader of the most powerful clan, a vampire who has been around for many centuries (or more, his exact age is never provided), but they are not really followed up on. (More on this later) This isn't necessarily bad, but it is worth noting.

The story treats vampirism as more an infection than a supernatural state happening to dead bodies, although one does have to die first to be a vampire, and being turned into a vampire is a way to not die if you are dying from some sort of injury. This - the vampirism being an infection rather than supernatural - is generally not a version of the vampire as a concept I personally care for, but that's a question of personal taste rather than a knock against the book.

In connection with the above, it also has vampires as something that can be born - two vampires can have a vampire kid, a vampire and a human can have a vampire kid - not a dhampir, or anything like that, an actual vampire (though half-human vampires need sleep and food, but they still need blood and are very much considered vampires in-universe). Again, this isn't something I really care for, but again, it's a question of personal taste.

The Cons

The biggest con, and arguably this is subjective, but it bugged me enough that I'm going to put it here, is the thin worldbuilding. We are given hints, about the emergency of vampires being this big deal that created mass chaos until the Order was established, but the details are left vague, at best, and it kept bothering me.

The Order appears to be a private organization, but also a government one, filling both functions, but none of this is laid out.

The reasons for why vampire clans work the way they do, why all vampires are largely so much in awe of Raphael (Keir's father) and his clan are implied, and not well explored.

The Order is presented as an intensely controlling, dickish organization that uses its Hunters and spits them back out - which is not exactly an uncommon trope, and some of it makes sense in-universe, but other parts - very much do not. Their controlling, jerk behavior to their own people, let alone their hilarious disregard for civilian casualties (and their apparent license to commit them) as well as some of their more absurd or draconian rules, seems to be there mainly to create conflict for Silva, but the problem is, these rules and behaviors make the Order's job much harder, to a rather nonsensical degree, as far as I can tell. Yes, people and institutions can be jerks, massive, giant jerks, but when that jerkishness undermines their ability to fulfill their function, especially in fiction, a little more explanation is needed.

Another issue is that the Order apparently keeps all it's hunters in debt, like indentured servants, as a means of controlling them. Being trained as a hunter costs money as do your room and board at Hunter HQ, which is still cheaper than living outside of it. They provide some meals free, but only two a day. And the only way to get money to pay off your debt is working missions to kill vampires, or trying to find other ways to make money (the main character alludes to a period early on in her career where she and her friends started doing chores for a high-ranking member of the Order). Since it seems that many Hunters join the Order because of personal tragedy at the hands of vampires, it seems very odd that this would be necessary. Though the Order is so cruel and controlling that even though Silva hates vampires, she does leap at the chance to have her debt covered entirely. In terms of the story, the debt does seem to serve as a necessary plot device to get Silvia to take the mission and then stay long enough for the 'to lovers' part to start to kick in, but it feels like a choice with less implications for the larger worldbuilding would have been better and done the job just as well. Because again, the seeming incoherence of it all bugged me throughout the book, even as I enjoyed it.

Which is really my issue with the worldbuilding in general - it is very thin, and yet keeps hinting at and teasing at implications. I don't know if the author intends to provide answers in the sequel, or if there never will be much followup. I didn't pick up the book with worldbuilding as a major draw, so the lack of it isn't a major detraction (though I am talking about it at length here, it didn't stop me from enjoying the book at all, it's just takes more words to say and I am, by nature, not prone to gushing in great detail about what I like about something), but it did bug me throughout the story.

I don't mind a story not doing a lot of worldbuilding, but when a story hints at greater worldbuilding just beyond the scope of the story, and doesn't follow through, that does bother me. If the author wanted to just focus on the romance over the worldbuilding, then I think they shouldn't have provided so many tantalizing hints and teases and implications, and then not followed up on them to any significant degree, if at all.

Conclusion

Though the thin worldbuilding was a distraction and a negative, overall, the story is excellent at being what it sets out to be, and for that, I did love it. I wanted an f/f vampire x vampire hunter dark romance, and I got that in spades, and a few more things I didn't expect.

But, if you are the kind of reader that needs the worldbuilding to hang together or be good, or seeks out worldbuilding in your vampire stories, this may not be it for you.

Trigger Warnings For The Story

The book actually does have some surprisingly good trigger warnings before you actually get to the story, in the first few pages. But of course, you have to buy the book first to see those. From the Author's website, we have this accurate list of warnings

The themes can include but are not limited to; sexual assault mention, death, gore, parental abuse, nonconsensual biting, off and slight on page SA, trafficking mention, dubious consent, blood play, biting, self harm, tourture, violence.

Of those, I think bloodplay, gore, death and the two biting ones should be pretty obvious - it's a vampire story. Still, better to list them. Of the rest, dubious consent, violence and torture were the ones that really stood out to me as worth drawing attention to. If any of those are significant issues for you, you may want to be careful about the book - that doesn't mean don't buy it or read it if it is otherwise interesting, obviously how or if you engage with what squicks or triggers you is up to you, but always keep that in mind.

How To Get

Full disclosure, there are all on US versions of these websites, I don't know availability outside the US or prices or anything like that, but one would assume the ebook is available through amazon in other countries if nothing else. In principle some of these options should also be available in other countries, but in practice, I don't know. I apologize for my US centrism.

If you want an ebook copy, there appears to be only one way to get it, Amazon. On principle, I'm not going to provide a link to Amazon, but googling 'Contract Bound by Elle Mae' should turn up the amazon page in the first few results. The price there is $4.99.

It appears to be the case, but I am not 100% sure, so please, be careful, that you may be able to get an ebook copy of this book and the author's other books through her Patreon. But like I said, I'm not sure.

You can order a physical copy online, but is of course substantively more expensive. Through Amazon it is $15.99, through Barnes & Noble's website it is $16.99, and on Books A Million it is also $16.99, though it appears shipping is significantly more expensive through them. I think the best option would be Bookshop.org, as buying through them does support independent bookstores (affiliated independent bookstores get a small portion of all sales that aren't done through a specific store's affiliate link. You can also choose to use a specific store's affiliate link to search for the book and then buy it for them to get more directly), but it is the most expensive option, running at $19.54

You may be able to request that your local library buy it, if they haven't already gotten it

Depending on if you have a local independent bookstore or another bookstore that is willing to do special orders to get a book delivered to the store and then you come pick them up (I believe Books A Million Does This), you may be able to request they order it. Procedures for this can be simple or complex. Some bookstores may not want to do this, or may charge you more than it would cost online, as the cost to bookstores through Ingram (one of the main channels for small bookstores to get books) is fairly high relative to the price it costs through larger retailers. If you have more questions, you can ask me, and I'll try to elaborate further.

I don't know of any other ways to obtain the book at this time, but if anyone else does know of others, or has specific details on how one can get it in other countries, please let me know and I'll try to add them to this post or in a reblog.

If you do get the book, I hope you enjoy it!

[kyuuppi]

“You lie to your best friend/crush that you have an OnlyFans just to see their reaction”

Ft. Sugawara; Nishinoya; Tsukishima; Oikawa; Kenma

Pt. 2

A/N: My bias is so obvious here LOL

KARASUNO

↳ Sugawara

➣  You are over at his house, the two of you idly watching a sitcom while browsing your phones and chatting in between; it’s comfortable, as times with Sugawara usually are.

➣  Every time Suga leans in to show you a funny meme on his phone or throws his head back in laughter at a joke from the show, you find your heart skipping a beat.

➣  He is beautiful, basically an angel in your eyes, but he is also your best friend and you don’t think he has any interest in you like that. Not in the way you do. 

➣  That’s how you get the idea to test his feelings. 

➣  Being the troublemaker you are (how else would you and Suga get along so well?) you decide to shake things up by casually mentioning you’re interested in starting an OnlyFans and asking if he thinks its a good idea. 

➣  You expect either of two reactions: either he’ll be as supportive as usual, possibly advising you to be cautious with strangers online like the mother hen he is, proving he only sees you as a friend—or he’ll tell you not to, possible evidence that likes you.

➣  The response you receive is not quite what you were expecting...

➣  Once the words leave your lips his head immediately whips around in your direction, light brown eyes looking at you with a serious expression on his face, something you’d never really seen before. It makes you uncomfortable and you begin to regret all of your life decisions.

➣  Suddenly though, he is leaning into you, his arms coming up to trap you against the couch as you try to back away. Your eyes are as wide as saucers and face completely flushed as he continues to stare you down before speaking.

➣  “Even though I’m your best friend, I’m still a man, you know. You’re being awfully cruel right now.”

➣ You audibly gulp, suddenly feeling light-headed but he keeps speaking, close enough that you can feel his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

➣ “Asking me to watch the person I like show off in front of thousands of other men? Even I have my limits.”

➣ And that marks the day of you and Sugawara’s first kiss. ♡

↳ Nishinoya

➣  Your best friend, Nishinoya Yuu, is notoriously unabashed with his affections. 

➣ The two of you have an interesting relationship—Noya has no qualms with expressing how pretty he thinks you are, borderline flirting with you at times, and you frequently return the favor. 

➣  But you don’t take any of it seriously, of course, regardless of how much you secretly wish it were real. Everyone at Karasuno knows about Noya’s undying dedication to the volleyball club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, and he confesses his love to her at least twice a day. 

➣ Unbeknownst to you those professions became less and less frequent after he met you and now most of Karasuno thinks the two of you are basically dating

➣ The two of you are at the mall, a frequent hang out place where Noya can look at volleyball gear and you can browse manga at the bookstore, when you get the idea to prank your friend.

➣ “Hey, Noya? I’ve been thinking about finding a way to make more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so I decided to make an OnlyFans—I already have a few subscribers.”

➣ Nishinoya nearly trips and falls flat on his face. You would have laughed if it weren’t for how he immediately grabs at your shoulders, staring at you with a mix of anger and fear. 

➣ “Absolutely not! No one should be allowed to see your beautiful body like that but me!”

➣ You immediately fluster at his loud declaration, acutely aware of how other customers in the mall are giving the two of your strange looks as they walk by. 

➣ “B-but Noya, we aren’t even dating—”

➣ “Then let’s start dating!” 

➣ And what are you gonna do? Say no?

↳ Tsukishima

➣ Being friends with Tsukishima could be frustrating at times—a sentiment you and Yamaguchi frequently discuss when the blond isn’t around. 

➣ Tsukishima likes to think most things are beneath him and he’s too cool to find enjoyment in activities most other friends enjoy, ranging from mini golf to video games. The man seems content to waste his life away studying and listening to music if it weren’t for you and Yamaguchi forcing him out of his room. 

➣ Naturally, something like a prank war would be something Tsukishima would want no part of—not that that has ever stopped you. 

➣ Usually, your pranks are failures. Either Tsukishima easily figures out what you’re doing before it can happen or he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction, chastising you for wasting your time pulling pranks when you have a failing grade in mathematics you’ll later beg him to help you study for.

➣ He still helps you though, he’s whipped

➣ Your newest prank however, you feel exceptionally confident in. Not only is it simple to pull off, only relying on your acting kills, but it also might answer your curiosity on whether you have a chance in getting your dearest Tsukki to see you as more than just a friend.

➣ The day you decide to do it the three of you are hanging out in Tsukishima’s bedroom as usual, you working on the math homework Tsukishima forced you to study while he reads a book and Yamaguchi sits in the corner reading a book.

➣ You had already discussed your plans with Yama beforehand, to which his expression looked suspiciously devious, like he knew something you didn’t know, as he proclaimed his support. 

➣ You hear Tsukishima turning a page and decide to speak up. 

➣ “Hey, Tsukki, have you heard of OnlyFans?”

➣ You hold back a snicker as you see Tsukishima visibly tense, his eyes widening behind his glasses for a moment before he relaxes. From the corner of your eyes you can see Yamaguchi smirking behind his comic, watching the blond closely. 

➣ “...yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Tsukishima simply replies. 

➣ “I’ve been thinking about making more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so my friend suggested it. She said I could make over ten thousand yen a month.”

➣ “I think only the really attractive ones make that much.”

➣ You gasp, thoroughly offended, and Yamaguchi looks mildly annoyed by his friend’s response, already opening his mouth to chastise him for being so mean—but before he can say anything, Tsukishima is speaking again, still looking down at the book in his lap. 

➣ “Don’t do it though.” 

➣ “Why not?” You pout, refusing to look up at him when you speak. 

➣ “...I don’t want the person I like to do those types of things.” 

➣ You nearly choke on your own saliva, head darting up to stare at him in disbelief. Yamaguchi, for some reason, only smiles softly, looking unsurprised by the admission. 

➣ “W-what? You...like me?”

➣ “Oi, shouldn’t you be studying? One more F and you’re gonna flunk out of the class, dummy.”

➣ You’re slightly disappointed by the change of subject but when you notice the soft pink on Tsukishima’s cheeks you can’t help but to smile the whole time you finish your homework.

AOBA JOUSAI

↳ Oikawa

➣ Oikawa is a busy guy.

➣ You were well aware of that before the two of you happened to be paired up for an assignment and got to know each other, eventually becoming close friends. 

➣ Between volleyball practices, tournaments, magazine interviews, and appeasing a passionate fan club, Oikawa rarely has time for himself, let alone another person. 

➣ Despite all of that, you could tell he always made sure to spend time with you, dedicating a few weekends a month to hanging out, just the two of you, and constantly texting you in the times the two of you couldn’t physically be together. 

➣ From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost like the two of you were dating. 

➣ But alas, you know the sad reality is that Oikawa is most certainly not your boyfriend and you have no idea if he has any interest in your like that…

➣ ...Which is why you decide to try to make him jealous one day to push him towards confessing his feelings, if they exist. 

➣ The two of you are at a café, sipping lattes and gossiping about other students when you bring it up. 

➣ “Y’know...I’ve been thinking of making an OnlyFans.”

➣ To your surprise, Oikawa’s eyes seem to light up, his lips curving into a smile of excitement. 

➣ “Wow, really? Maybe I should make one too!”

➣ Oikawa immediately pulls out his cell phone and the color drains from your face as you realize your plan has completely backfired. 

➣ “My fans are going to love this—hey do you think we can do a collab? The two of us in one pic would make us top creators for sure.”

➣ You can only nod numbly with a fake smile at Oikawa’s enthusiasm.

➣ Oh god, you’ve created a monster…

NEKOMA

↳ Kozume

➣ Unless you’re Kuroo, becoming friends with Kenma is a nearly impossible feat. Actually making him want to spend time with you alone, even more so. 

➣ But somehow, you managed to work your way into Kenma’s tightly knit social circle more like a two point line segment of him and Kuroo and your evenings after his volleyball practice are usually spent in one of your bedrooms, playing Splatoon and Animal Crossing until your Switches die or your parents force you to come home for dinner—whichever comes first. 

➣ You love spending time with Kenma, his quiet presence somehow making you feel comfortable—but over time those feelings of ease have shifted into something more akin to nervousness and excitement as you’ve come to develop a crush on the setter.

➣ Every moment with him, watching the small smiles tug at his lips when he wins a match or his cute, frustrated pout when he can’t figure out how to defeat a boss makes your heart flutter and it’s becoming more and more painful to idly sit by without expressing your feelings.

➣ A direct confession, especially to a boy with nearly 0 social skills, is scary, so you want to be sure your feelings are returned before you even attempt to share them. 

➣ Thus, you’ve decided to take Kuroo’s advice.

➣ “Push him into a corner. Kenma will only act when he thinks he has to.” 

➣ You take a deep breath to steel your nerves before you speak, eying him sneakily from behind your Switch. 

➣ “Gamer girls and boys are kind of trendy these days; I’m thinking about starting an OnlyFans to make money to buy more games.”

➣ The only visible response you receive is a slow blink as Kenma continues to play his game, fingers tapping furiously on the keys. 

➣ “Ah...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

➣ “Why not?”

➣ There are a few moments of silence between you two, the room only filled with the SFX of your games as Kenma seems to finish his round. You recognize the victory music as Kenma pauses to finally raise his gaze to meet your own. 

➣ “It's your body so I can’t tell you what to do but...I would feel really jealous of all your subscribers.”

➣ And just like that, Kenma returns his attention to the video game, unpausing and starting a new match, blissfully unaware of you struggling to calm your racing heart and flushed cheeks. 

[clairecrive]

"Bookish talks"- Billy Russo x reader

A/n: again, not requested but the idea popped into my mind after reading @faulty-coding piece. (I think)

Warnings: a bit of angst, misunderstandings but fluffy ending

Word count: 1.5k +

Tagging: @thefictionalgemini , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx (if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

My masterlists are here.

"Yeah, she's been going on and on about this book. I've got five more minutes to go."

Well, the things you find out when you turn up where you're not supposed to be.

To be fair, you didn't mean to eavesdrop. When you got out that morning you had forgotten to take your wallet. Here explained why you had returned not even ten minutes from where you first walked out. You didn't even think that Billy would be still at home, so you didn't bother with announcing yourself.

And look what a surprise you were met with.

Taking your wallet, you hurried out of Billy's apartment set on not hearing anymore.

*+* *+* *+*

The day passed as it normally would. You had pushed back Billy's words in your mind because you had work to do. It wouldn't be smart to unpack what it meant so early in the morning when you had so much to do.

You weren't mad per se. You were rather hurt that he had never told you that he didn't enjoy your talks about the latest book you were reading. So yeah, let's add "stupid and guilty" under your current mood. You didn't want to put Billy in a position where he had to bear with something he didn't like. But how were you meant to know if he didn't talk to you?

This is not the moment, you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head.

Coherent with your routine though, at six, Billy's call came. Of course, he acted normally, nothing had happened for him, after all.

"So, you coming around tonight?"

"Nope, book club meeting tonight."

"Oh, right. Was kinda hoping you'd ditch them."

"They're my outlet for my book nerdiness, Billy. Wouldn't want to annoy anyone with my craze over books."

"Who said you do?"

"You did."

It wasn't your intention to confront him on the matter over the phone. It was an instant reaction.

Billy didn't gasp but the silence you were met with was more than enough to show you that he'd been taken aback.

"Y/n-"

"It's okay, Billy. I don't mind if you don't like listening to me talking about books. I just wish you would have told me. I wouldn't be feeling so stupid and guilty for all the time I've made you waste now if you had."

"You didn't waste my time."

From that moment, things between you had Billy went back to normal. Sort of. He hadn't confronted you on the matter anymore and of course, you wouldn't bring it back up. So you settled in your usual routine, without of course any mention of books.

"Mh," looking at the clock on your desk you noticed that if you only have half an hour to finish your last assignment and before you need to leave, " I've got to go now, Billy. I'll talk to you soon." You ended the call without waiting for a response.

*+* *+* *+*

You were currently on Billy's sofa, leaning on him while you watched a documentary on Ancient Rome. It was interesting and it made you think about a book you had read on the subject a while ago. You opened your mouth to share your thoughts with Billy but a flashback of his words stopped you.

What if he hated it when you did that too?

"You're awfully quiet tonight." His voice startled you from your thoughts.

"A bit tired."

"Haven't got any anecdotes for me tonight?"

"Nope."

Your eyes didn't leave the tv screen. Yes, the documentary was interesting but you also didn't want Billy to know that you were lying. He had the uncanny ability of sensing whenever you weren't being genuine.

Out of the blue, the documentary stopped and the sound of the control hitting the coffee table told you that it was Billy who had paused it.

His hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from him so that he could look you in the eyes.

"You're holding back."

"You're holding me back." Was your witty yet unnecessary reply. Billy's jaw clenched but the grip on your arms didn't tighten.

"Is this about the book thing?"

"We're watching a documentary, Billy. Why would it be about the book thing?"

"You always have something to say when we watch this stuff. Something you've read somewhere, some time ago." He explained, quoting you.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me stuff," he added more softly when you didn't speak.

"Oh, I know I can. You just bitch about it with your friends whenever I do though."

His eyes squinted lightly, if his hands weren't on you, you probably would have missed how his shoulders tensed too.

"So it is about the book thing," he murmured releasing your arms.

"Well, Billy, you've basically fallen under the category of the white man who complains about how annoying his girlfriend is to his friends."

"I've not said you're annoying."

"You might as well have," you huffed crossing your arms, turning away from him.

"I know I sounded like an asshole but that's not what I meant. I really don't mind when you go off for ten minutes on some book you're reading."

"Spare me the bullshit, Billy. You don't have to lie to not hurt my feelings. It's too late for that anyway."

"I'm not lying." he insisted offended by your accusation but you didn't bother responding to him.

Billy sighed, one of his hands wiped over his face as he, no doubt, was trying to think of how to make this right. But maybe it was your time to speak.

"I realise that me sharing every thought or little thing that happens can be overwhelming." Fiddling with the fingers of your hands, you tried to find the right words.

"When me and Karen chose our university major, I was sure that our friendship was going to end. It happens, you take different paths and suddenly you go from best friends t someone you say hi to whenever you meet them around." You stopped to look at him. Bily's eyes were solely focused on you, so you continued.

"To avoid that, we developed a sort of routine where we would tell each other about our days, what we did, the things that happened, people we had met and stuff like that. We'd usually met once a week if not more often and this way we managed to strengthen our relationship and here we are after ten years, still best friends."

"Even if we went our separate ways, neither of us felt left out or behind from the other's life. I knew her friends even if I hadn't met them and since she told me everything I felt like I was as part of her life as I was when we shared every class together."

"I'm a rather introverted and reserved person, Billy. I'm sure you gathered that by now. I guess sharing this kind of things, books I read, things I do and stuff is my way of making you an active presence in my life. Because I care about you and I wouldn't want you to feel left out. Also because I don't feel the need to filter myself around you." A pause. "Well, did."

During your soliloquy, you didn't meet Billy's eyes. It felt deeply personal to share this with him but you hoped it would help him understand. Not necessarily make him enjoy your bookish talk but to make him at least not think of you as annoying.

Billy didn't speak. He had let you have your moment because it was clear that there were things you had been keeping to yourself. You hadn't been dating for long, only a couple of months, so you were still getting to know each other.

Yes, Billy wasn't exactly a bibliophile but he enjoyed the thought of being someone you trusted so much to the point where you're not afraid of opening up.

He really wanted to kick himself for having ruined that. For making you feel like a burden.

Leaning towards you, he gently turned your face to him.

"What you've heard the other day was me explaining to Frankie what I was doing." His voice was soft as if he was afraid that he'd ruin the intimate atmosphere by speaking louder.

"I was listening to your message about that book and yes, it was seven minutes long and yes, you were going on and on about a character's motives and his psychology but I didn't mean to imply it was annoying." His eyes flickered between yours and he seemed truthful enough but you were still hesitant.

"It's okay if you don't enjoy it, Billy. My father hates whenever I do that but that doesn't mean that he loves me any less." You offered him another way out.

"Well, I guess this is why you told me you're not looking for a man like your father."

"Are we good?" He murmured, eyes flickering between yours. You nodded leaning into his touch.

"Trust me, you're nothing like my father." you chuckled, accepting his words for what you knew knew they implied.

Smiling at you, Billy's hands reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Do you promise to talk to me if there's something wrong?" You asked him, needing the reassurance.

"Don't I always talk your ears off when you leave your stuff hanging around?" True enough but you needed him to say it.

"I promise." He conceded, nose bumping into yours before kissing you softly.

"So, got any fun fact to share?" He asked you again, pointing to the tv with his head.

"I've got a few, yes." You shily smiled at him.

"Hit me." Leaning back on the sofa, he got comfortable as he encouraged you to speak.

[writingsbychlo]

put her together again (03)

word count; 6472

summary; after you’re making steady progress, mitch takes you on a trip to jog your memory, and you have quite the reaction to it.

notes; this is a really emotionally intense chapter, so take it easy. I cried while writing it AND while proof reading it.

wrnings; mentions of gore, murder, underage drinking, child abduction, breaking and entering, abuse, criminal activity, and child abuse.

The name revelation had been a snowball, one that had continued to roll and tumble until it had become a crushing avalanche of success and progress within your mind and personality.

You were making big and little breakthroughs within yourself, sometimes it was a sudden realisation about what your favourite colour was, and sometimes it was bigger. Sometimes memories came filtering through - good and bad - and he’d come to learn the tells of what each one consisted of. You’d taken to writing them down or drawing them, your doodle pad becoming more like a journal now, and you shared more with him. On the happier days when the memories you were able to now recognise as ‘good’ came through, memories of times on assignments when you’d soak up the sun, or a butterfly would land on your arm, you would tell him all about them, describing in in vivid detail as you relived every moment with him, and made sure to give so much detail he felt like he was sitting there himself.

Sometimes, on the days when something came to the surface that now made you shiver, it would have a different effect. Those were the quieter days, the days when he’d make you a hot cup of tea and give you a tablet for something herbal to soothe your anxiety, and would choose to sit beside you on the couch instead of working in his office, reading a book as he waited for you to be ready to talk about it. Sometimes, those days took a physical toll on you, you wouldn't eat or move, and there had been multiple times when he’d had to hold your hair back as your body was racked from head to toe as you emptied your stomach into the toilet bowl while shock and horror washed over to you.

The progress you were making was incredible, but not all the emotions you were finally tapping into were something to be celebrated, it was just something that had to be done.

The cold and emotionless version of you was something that was rapidly slipping away, and he could barely even compare you to the person you’d been when he’d first taken you in so many months ago. The way your face had been permanently stoic and lifeless was something he could barely picture now, you were never without some kind of expression, a lot of which made him laugh, or made his own chest blossom with warmth when you did. It was hard not to, watching you come into yourself, your smile was contagious, enough to light up the room when you’d knock on the office door with a wide grin and another story to tell him, or a joke you’d read in a book that you wanted or share, and the way he’d have to suppress his laughter as he watched your face change when you read.

You weren’t even aware you did it, your face flicking between joy, despair, judgement, horror, shock, with every word you read, letting yourself get immersed in the words that created a new world for you, and sometimes it was enough to distract him from his own work, simply to watch you.

In the first few weeks after you’d realised what your name was, he’d caught you mumbling it to yourself as you went around, written on the back of your hand, or on every page of your notebook as you tried to familiarise yourself with it. You did your best, and he felt like his heart had both broken and been strengthened as he found the open page of your name written, scribbled and scrawled in different handwritings, colours and types of writing tool as you tried to work out how you best associated with your own name.

You spoke it on a loop and left it written everywhere you could as you began to grow more comfortable with it, but after a month had passed, you had seemed to begin to find a connection within it. He did everything he could to help, making sure to say your name to you as much as he could, to reinforce it in your mind, and he had felt himself light up like the fourth of July the first time you’d said his name too.

You had said it so simply, a false argument that two of you had been having about a book you’d read and whether or not you agreed with the choices taken, and after you’d made a valid point, he’d used his foot to nudge the book out of your hand from where he sat at the opposite end of the couch, stretched out across it. You’d chastised him by using his name, laughing under your breath as you found the item under the coffee table and flicked through it to find the page, having not marked it before losing it at his shove.

Sometimes, you still messed up, when you were particularly tired or you’d had a nightmare, you’d slipped back into accidentally referring to yourself as unit eight in the mornings, a somber feeling following you around for hours until you snapped out of it, often with his help, when you watched a movie and had a hot drink to soothe you, or listened to the music he’d begun to introduce you to.

It was a long road, one that the pair of you were struggling with together, and every day you seemed to be gaining miles, faster and faster. What had once been like a dam - tightly locked and making sure to allow only enough in and out to hold strong and survive - was now beginning to crack. Water was dripping through, little by little as the break widened and pebbles fell away, and as each little piece fell away from the barrier it was expanding more and more, gaining ground faster with each progression. One day it would burst entirely, there would be nothing left to hold you back, because the concrete would crumble away to let everything beautiful within you that was locked up so tight be allowed to roam free, instead.

Upon coming into yourself, though, had brought several troubles for him. The first of which was your curiosity, he no longer had to guide you in finding hobbies and telling you what to do, but instead, you were all but bouncing off of the walls while locked inside, desperate to get around to your weekly walks at night when there were fewer people on the streets and less of a risk to you, and so they had become more and more frequent, the two of you venturing out almost every other night, now.

With your arm linked through his as you strolled along, wrapped up in one of his coats that was too big for you and some sweats, he was certain that the two of you had walked every possible route around the neighbour over fifty times now, and that had led him to another issue. You wanted to explore, you wanted more, the searching on the laptop did no good, because you’d seen so many aspects of the world on the job, so much more than he had even, but you’d never experienced it.

You wanted to see the world, but you weren’t ready to be a part of it yet.

You were a killer, a trained mercenary, you knew more languages than he did, and you could use a spoon to kill him in more ways than he could kill someone with a gun, you knew the entire periodic chart by heart and you could do a backflip on the spot - something which the two of you had spent upwards of a week trying to teach him how to do, and failing. He couldn't contain the overwhelming sense of pity he had for you, though, because while you were such an incredible person with limitless talents and skills, you had absolutely no idea how to do basic things like set off a dishwasher or put through a load of laundry.

On a day when he’d been trying to assess your skills, you’d taken him down ten times in a row at sparring without even breaking a sweat, but he’d found you crying in the laundry room as you tried to figure out what all the buttons and symbols meant, and so his latest hobby had been teaching you the things that mother’s taught their kids from youth.

His investigation into your past hadn't ceased either, he would work with every fragment of memory you gave him and every tiny detail he could pick up from a story you told him, never wanting to push and risk upsetting you, or having you close back in on yourself.

You were becoming a seamless part of his life, taking you to the store and watching you sniff at shampoos and laundry detergents, or debate the health benefits of certain vegetables over others was something that he was too quickly becoming used to, and wandering around the library and holding your stacks of books for you while you chose a new week’s worth of reading was beginning to become the highlight of his Saturday nights.

The domesticity of it all was overwhelming, never in his life had he held this kind of life in the palm of his hands, a happy little setting that was nothing but serenity and peace when he was home. The old him used to go to pubs and bars, Katrina in a cute little dress on his arm as he wore tight skinny jeans and spent more money on drinks at clubs and hockey games than he did on rent. Half of his existence was hangovers and headaches, from booze or college textbooks, and he was looking a long and dull but successful office career in the eye, his sporting being something he’d keep up as a hobby until work hours got longer and he got that promotion that ‘everybody wanted’ and ‘it was a real honour, everyone was fighting for it’ and so he’d spend more time behind his desk instead of at home, gain a little weight, fuck his secretary when Katrina started to make eyes at the gardener instead, because he was still young and hot.

It was someone he wasn’t, he’d never seen himself before this as being the guy who was happy to read books quietly with his girl when her feet were in his lap or toes poking at his thigh like you did on a bold day, or cook recipes from a book you’d picked up as one of this week’s editions, the two of you trialing different meals from all over the world, because you couldn’t actually go there to get them.

With the more expanding into society you’d done, the more he’d invested in you, no longer being able to wrap you up in his own clothes as much, especially not with the looks the two of you received when you were in public places, and so he was left to buy you clothes. He didn’t know much, likes sizes or measurements, but he tried his best, and so with heated cheeks and a scowl, he’d pushed some bags into your hands after returning home from a midday excursion.

Leggings, sports bras, simple cotton panties, and a fair amount of pyjamas, because those were your favourites. He went for the basics, leaving you to roam around in his hoodies and shirts, but it was an improvement, to say the least, making you look a little less like you were still a project, and more like you were finding your place in a society you didn’t understand and had never been a part of. You’d managed to dig up a packet of hair elastics he’d had from his time when he had longer hair and couldn’t be bothered to cut it, and so you’d begun to style it like you read in books or saw in movies, ponytails and braids and buns.

Slowly but surely, everything about you was becoming less robotic and more unique, and he was simply along to watch you bloom like a flower in the sun, now.

“Do you want to go out somewhere today?”

“Somewhere like the library? Because we only went a few days ago, and we still have lots of food in the fridge.” You glanced up at him as he leant on the door for the kitchen, and Mitch couldn't help the grin that took over his face as you looked at him curiously, twirling a pencil between your fingers in patterns that confused him and yet you seemingly didn’t even know you were doing it, and the wondering as to whether you could do that with something like a knife flitted across his mind, but he shook it free. “Anyway, it’s only eight minutes past two, it won’t be dark for at least five hours yet.”

“I was thinking we could switch up the routine today.” You raised your brows at him, lips pursed as your eyes flicked over to the paper stuck up on the fridge, and he pushed himself up from the framing to take the seat across from you instead. “You mind that?”

You let out a dramatic sigh, pouting a little as you placed the pencil back into the case before you and zipping it up. “I suppose for you an exception could be made.”

“Wow, don’t I just feel honoured?” He grinned, watching as you giggled a little bit, before pushing your chair out, excitement taking over as you came to stand beside him, rolling on the balls of your feet a little bit. 

“We’re going out now? During the day?”

“Yes we are.”

What was almost a squeal left your lips as you nodded your head, hands clenching and unclenching from fists as your gaze faded away from his. “I’m gonna’ wear the black jeans!”

You were gone from his view before he could say anything else, dashing away towards your room and clicking the door shut as you left in a whirlwind of coloured pencils and fluffy socks that you’d dug out of his drawer, and he scooped up all the papers to tidy them away, placing the glass you’d been drinking from into the sink and getting rid of them.

He had been researching, using every bit of information that he’d heard from you to build a case, trying to find out who you were to try and help you expand on the life you’d lost, everything that you’d forgotten or been forced to suppress. How many girls at about age three could go missing with your name, from a state he was certain he’d hear you mumble in your sleep, from a house that matched all the pictures you drew?

Three-hundred and twenty-two. That’s how many. 

But only eighteen of them had been cases that were still open or never solved, and only one of them had the mysterious circumstances that would match you, and was exactly what he was looking for. He was confident in the decision, in his own sleuthing, and so the decision he had been pulling over for the past few days on whether or not it was actually a good decision, had taken over this morning. It was like a band-aid, it just had to be ripped off, but it was a lead on who you were supposed to be, not who they forced you to be, so he was willing to take it.

Luckily for him, and you, by some kind of blessing, it wasn’t actually that far away, only one state over, a few hours driving at the max, and so like some kind of emotional therapy or purge, you’d be able to go to the place you once lived, and find a piece of yourself. If his detective work had been accurate, that was.

It hadn't taken you long to change. You were flying out of the room excitedly while pulling up your hair to secure it back as your laces were still undone, waiting eagerly as he put on his own shoes and jacket, taking a little longer to pat down his pockets and find his keys just to tease you, as you hovered in the doorway, anticipating the journey out into broad daylight that you’d be venturing into. Everything seemed different to you in the daylight, he could tell, from the was you took anxious steps, buzzing slightly as the two of you chose to take the stairs instead, avoiding the security camera and the busy people shifting from different floors in the elevator, still trying to keep you as safe and secreted as possible. 

He’d parked the car close to the building on the last journey, and so it was barely a walk to get to it, blacked out windows hiding your identity much better now that you were venturing out into the light. He had already programmed the location into the SatNav in his car, only a few hours away to be taken to, and you settled into the seat, reading the back of the latest CD he had, and mumbling about getting a burger on the way there if it was far away, before the journey was beginning, and Mitch was doing his best to push down his anxiety.

The house was still just as it had been left, a little unkempt and the garden overgrown, the cobblestones leading up to the front door had become unstable with some missing and some just out of place. The weeds had taken over, mud and grass with thistles that had overruled it all, everything trampled down by kids who had wandered over the area. One of the windows had broken and there was graffiti along the walls, the front door kicked in and there were marks around the frame where repairs had been made, new locks and wood being put on, but it had only continued to happen. 

It had never been repurchased, it was a little town that the two of you had pulled up in, and you’d gone silent from all the chattering you’d done on the way over as you stared up at the building, unaware of the neighbours eyes peering on at the two of you as you sat in the large sleek vehicle. Rumours had spread quickly, he’d barely had to dig into your history before articles and news about your family were popping up, rumours about the things your parents had been involved in before tragedy had struck and the littlest member of the family had gone missing, a cold case that was never solved. 

Beer cans and burnt ashes were in the garden, but there was no movement inside currently, and so releasing the lip from between his teeth from where he’d been nibbling, Mitch rounded the car, opening the door for you and giving you the most reassuring smile he could as your gaze left the house to find his, and you stepped out of the car to stand beside him. You didn’t question him, or yell at him, but you lingered by his side, your shoulder brushing his for comfort as you shoved your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie, and followed him up the pathway when he took the first step. 

You paused by his side halfway up the garden, looking around anxiously, and that same blank look that he hadn't seen for months was back, and suddenly, the weight of the moment came crashing down onto him as he realised the weight of the mistake he must’ve made. The panic that he’d triggered something bad within you was crushing, that you might close back in on yourself and freak out, that this act may have been your entire undoing. 

Then, he was able to process the look on your face. It was recognition. You knew where you were, you knew what it was you were looking at. The blank look wasn’t you closing in on yourself, it was you protecting yourself, and he closed the distance between you both with a few quick strides, tipping your chin up towards him before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezing, fixing you with a look of questioning and security as he waited to know whatever you were okay. 

“I think I used to have a pink bicycle.” You looked over his shoulder, glancing along the broken pathway as you traced your gaze across the garden. “It had training wheels that lit up in all different colours.”

He could see it now, the fear in your eyes, and it was an emotion he'd never seen on you before. You were scared, but the cogs were turning in your head as the final part of you clicked into place, finding your roots and being reunited with your home, a shaky breath leaving you, before your eyes were searching to catch his own once again, and you gave him a weak smile, but he was sure it was the strongest you’d been able to muster. 

“Can we go inside?”

“Are you sure you can handle that?” 

You hesitated in giving him your answer, but there was determination washing over the fear, and you nodded, pursed lips and slightly trembling shoulders, but he could tell you were absolutely adamant in your decision. You were moving before he was, taking quick and steady steps up the front porch, and lingering by the front door, waiting for him to catch up, peering through the glass and past the ripped and yellowing fabric, that was covering the slip of glass, only an outline of the interior revealed to you. 

A simple nudge of his foot was enough for the door to swing open, the wood creaking under the strain on its hinges as it wobbled a little, scraping the wood flooring in motions that were clearly ingrained from a lot of breaking and entering. He lingered back, letting you take the first step, and it was like walking into a piece of your history, he didn’t want to invade, so he gave you your time to observe the place. 

It was a little torn up, massacred from the graffiti and break-ins, smashed glass and covered with damp and mold, peeling wallpaper that had yellowed and snapped or broken furniture. There were burns on the walls and floors from where kids had come in to smoke and set fires, broken bottles and crushed beer cans, litter and lost belongings, but it was still the place that used to be your home. 

The first room was the living room, couches that were torn, flat cushions with rusted springs and missing stuffing, but the faded pattern was almost still visible. There was a clear place where a television had once been, almost everything of value having been stripped from the room, and other furniture rearranged to make places for youths to sit around and talk, but it was enough for you to be able to put the jigsaw puzzle pieces together. You wandered around, running your fingers lightly over everything, and moving onto the dining room. You’d dragged the chairs back through, arranging them around the chipping and wobbly oakwood table, and adjusting the photo frames on the walls, even though the glass had shattered. 

The kitchen was a mess, broken cupboard doors and a leaky tap, the backdoor completely kicked in and the panels on the back porch broken, but you didn’t seem to care, a small smile flickering on your face as you crouched down, peering into the oven, despite the fact that you couldn't see through the glass of the door. “I think my mother used to bake cookies.”

“Yeah?”

You glanced at him, hands on your knees to push yourself up from your crouching position as you nodded your head. “Yeah. I just got the overwhelming urge to eat cookies when I walked in here.”

“Well, it won’t be the same, but when we go home, we’ll swing by the store and try and whip some up, if you’d like?” Your shoulder bumped against his as you walked through the room, before looking back, offering him a soft nod, and making your way across to the staircase, leaving him to follow you. 

“I would like that.” 

His offer was seemingly well accepted, and he was happy to have made a suggestion that was something positive for you. The stairs groaned and squealed under each step he took, and for a second the worry that the wood may actually give way underneath you both passed his mind as he felt each plank tremble under your weight, the disarray of the house entirely different to the upstairs.

The upper half of the house was more well-kept than the lower half. Less graffiti and broken furniture, it seemed far more well preserved, and Mitch would be willing to bet good money that kids just weren’t bold enough to try and climb stairs that screamed out in fits of protest at the first simple steps to be placed upon them. It brought a different mood, too. The downstairs was cheery for you, filled with sweet memories and happy times, thanksgivings at the dining table and christmas’ by the fireplace in the living room, but the upstairs was different. The first real room that you’d come across was that of the younger version of yourself, pink walls, pink furniture, everything must’ve once been bright and covered in glitter, and it seemed perfectly reasonable for a three-year-old girl’s room. 

Children’s toys still covered the floor, a tiny bed with a little desk, colouring crayons and old teddies that had become weathered and ugly, slightly torn apart but not entirely disheveled, and Mitch held his breath once again as he waited for your own reaction. There was no smile, or look of fond memories, only that of sadness and shock, his body reaching for you as you jumped and twitched with every eerie squeak of the flooring under your feet or the wind rustling through the open windows of the upstairs. 

It was dark, and unsettling, watching a grown woman relearn the room she’d been ripped from as a child, and something in the back of his throat burned at the thought as he wondered whether this was the last room you’d been in while holding your freedom, before being snatched up and cast into a life of horror and abuse. He watched as you moved around, kneeling down on the floor with an open plastic tub, picking up the toys on the carpet and tidying them away, before putting the glittery crate back where it belonged, the scratched off paint on the side revealing a part of a butterfly with purple wings and blue spots, and he had to look away from it all for a second.

He wanted to ask if you knew that you were tidying, or whether something instinctual had kicked in and taken over when you did so, but he didn’t have the heart to break what you were doing. Once you were satisfied with the straightened sheets and lines of rotten bears and plush toys along the pillow, you were kneeling down, brushing your fingers along the planks of a colourful wooden box, faded paints that had once been a rainbow, and your fingers lingered on the latch, but you didn't open it. For the first time, your lips flicked up at the corners, and you placed your hand flat on the wood, pushing it back into place but continuing to stare at it.

“Bumblebee dress.”

He cursed under his breath, listening to you mumble to yourself about your favourite costumes that lay inside, and he turned away to wipe at a droplet that had strayed from his eyes, blinking back tears on burning eyes as he tried to control himself. You were more composed than he was, but he couldn't help it. In the few months he’d known you, he had grown to care so much, you barely even knew yourself but he felt like he knew you inside and out, and he didn’t want any unhappiness for you. You were like the sun to him, warm and welcoming and loving, every day you became more and more like a star to brighten up the sky, but this was a significant dull moment in your history.

If he hadn't thought it could get any worse, he was severely mistaken. 

At least your childhood bedroom was preserved in its purity, you hadn't been harmed and perhaps you’d put up a struggle - the best struggle a toddler could - but that was not the same story in your parents room, and he felt himself stiffen up beside you at the same time your entire body had turned to one of stone.

It was a mess, the walls were spattered with blood in different angles and torn up yellow tape reading ‘crime scene’ was still hanging from some places on the walls, with white tape on the floors marking stained carpet. There was more of a visible fight put up in here, gunpowder shadows on the walls and furniture that was tipped over. The drywall was littered with dents and holes, and splintered wood still covered the floor. It was haunting, nothing seemed to be disturbed, and he wasn’t surprised, because even small town kids who broke into ‘haunted houses’ for fun had enough respect not to disturb the place a person took their final breath.

“My mother must’ve died here.”

Your voice made his head snap over to you, and he hadn't even noticed that you’d taken a few steps away from him, staring down at the dark mark on the carpet, taped off to avoid it having any disturbance from the people who would have been wandering around while it was still a fresh crime scene and open investigation. He barely had time to process your words, swallowing down the lump in his throat that felt like cotton as everything in his mouth felt dry, watching as you moved away, your shaking voice extending on again;

“This was my father’s side of the bed. I think he died here.”

Everything about being here with you was making the absence of his own parents feel like a raw and fresh wound, his eyes lining with tears once again as all of that pain came rushing back to the surface in his weakened state, and he wondered how you were still holding yourself together so well as you stared down at a bloodstained bed, the covers still pushed back as though he’d simply gotten up for a second to nip downstairs or to the bathroom, before coming back to bed. 

Just as he was thinking about it, your jaw dropped, head snapping up so that your sights could catch his own as your calm demeanour was washed away to be replaced with a horrified look, startled and tensing up as you came to some kind of revelation. “I’ve killed people. I’ve killed people who could have been other little girls’ parents.”

He knew where this was going, a familiar rabbit hole that he’d worked hard to pull himself out of before, his mind feeling slow despite how hard he tried to think about what to say as he watched the pain take over, and he could barely get his feet to move, feeling like he was trying to run through wet cement with every movement. 

“I’m a monster. Just like the ones who killed my parents.”

He couldn't take it, shaking his head as he finally managed to click into place, pushing away his boundaries as you stared at him with tears streaming silently down your cheeks. His hands found your shoulders, smoothing down until he could hold your waist, before pulling your body into his own. It was the most affectionate touch he’d ever given you, and he wasn’t sure if it was welcome, all he knew was that you needed it right now, and so he had no hesitations in tugging you in closer to him, arms wrapped entirely around your body, and your face was pressed into his shoulder, salty tears washing over his skin as you sobbed silently into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t think you’re a monster, it was beyond your control.” He lifted a hand, feeling you shake underneath him, and weaving his fingers into your hair. He detangled the strands delicately, running his fingers through the locks and scratching at your scalp lightly as you remained wrapped up in his arms, his own eyes sliding shut as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. “I think you’re lovely. You’re incredible, sweetheart; you are.”

Your arms came up to hold him back as he spoke, mumbling into your hair to reassure you. Your hands bunched up in his shirt as your legs went weak, a loud cry in distress leaving you as you held onto him, and his knees buckled a little, before he was leaning down. Scooping you up and into his arms carefully, Mitch made the decision for you that this little excursion was over, you didn’t need anything else, you’d had everything from this house that you could possibly get. With tentative footsteps he carried you through the halls and back outside, freeing up one hand to open the car as your trembling body clung to him, seeking comfort and affection to soothe your broken soul. 

Placing you down in the car seat, the whimper you let out when he pulled away was enough to break his heart, but you soon realised your location, fingers unwrapping from his jumper enough to let him round the car, and find his own seat. The drive home was silent, the radio playing softly as you tried to calm yourself down, his hand in yours at every time he could as he smoothed his thumb over your knuckles to ease your pain, and you had snoozed off for almost an hour towards the end, letting him gently wake you as you arrived back at his apartment building. 

Your hand remained locked in his own as you wandered slowly up the stairs, pushing the door open as he twisted the keys, and he didn’t miss the relieved breath you let out as you stepped back into the place you were now calling home. There were no blood splatters and trauma, no bad memories that you’d have to hide from, just the warmth he’d tried to surround you with, and you shook his hand off of your own in order to take off your shoes, before you were collapsing down onto the couch, pulling a cushion to your chest and resting your chin atop it as you pulled up your legs, creating a ball out of yourself as you tried to work through fragmented thoughts.

Wandering to the office, the box that was hidden on the very top of filing cabinet was layered with dust that he brushed off, the label reading clear to him ‘another life’ scrawled in shaky handwriting that he’d completed while swiping thing sinto a box at three in the morning as a desperate bid to clear himself of the lost life. 

He braved it, though, and brought it back through to you, your head twisting to look at him as he carried it out and took a seat beside you, placing it down on the coffee table before you both and taking a deep breath. 

“I want to show you something.”

You didn’t move, just nodded, and he lifted off the top, a musty smell coming out as a pain burned in the back of his throat once again. The first items up before you both were his medals and certificates, sporting achievements that he showed you and explained each one to you, accolades from both college and highschool, things that had made him who  he used to be. Next up was a photo album, and he was shaking a little as he held it out to you, flicking through the pages and pointing out family memoirs to you, water splashing on the plastic when his parents stopped showing up. 

You had moved across the cushions a little closer to him, your arm pressing to his as you looked on with interest, and his heart felt like it was rebreaking when the pictures of a fresh-faced college kid with a beautiful blonde on his arm came into view, and the pain and longing for the simple life of who he used to be was enough to make him feel as though he couldn't breathe.  

“When Katrina died, I was so overcome with rage and jealousy. I hurt a lot of people, and I was ready to just slaughter hundreds until I got my revenge, before the CIA found me. I’m a monster, too.”

He let out a weak sound, trying to clear his throat to cover it as he left the book discarded on the table, and you shook your head, letting out a disapproving noise that prompted him to look up at you. “You’re not a monster. “You saved me.”

Your arms circled around him, holding him just as tightly, mumbling the same words into his hair that he’d used to try and placate you only hours prior, to calm you own when you’d bene in his position only a few hours ago, a cracked and watery laugh leaving him when you squeezed him in tightly, letting him rest his face in your neck as he held onto you just as tightly in return. You had made a breakthrough of earthshaking sizes today, and while it make him sad, to know that he had nothing else to offer you, that he'd made you into someone who could go out into the world as a real person now, and that he'd have to report your progress to his superiors, he didn’t have to do it tonight. 

He was more than willing to be selfish for the rest of the evening, shifting you to pull you to sit across him as your fingers weaved through his hair, holding one another in silence as the weight of the day threatened to crush you if you didn’t bear it together. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Yeah.” His breath washed over your skin and back into his face, warm and suffocating, but he liked having someone to hold so close again, to have even a snippet of emotional comfort once again, and not having to carry everything on his own, for the first time in a long, long time. “You choose us a film, and I’ll order us a whole bunch of takeout.”

[getbacktoworknovice]

🧣Pregnancy H.C’s; Aizawa

(full disclosure, Aizawa is my favorite so I may have gotten a bit carried away xD thank you in advance for dealing with my thirsty ass)

Aizawa is extremely overprotective and honestly, it doesn't seem like he’s all that excited at first and he seems more stressed than anything but he just assures you that he wants to keep you safe and will one hundred percent go to every class, doctors appointment and read any book he can on the subject to help you out. Like seriously, he’s calling or texting every few minutes at first because he’s worried not being with you. Eventually, he has to restrain himself and trust that you can handle things on your own sometimes and you don't need a hero with you every five minutes. Though Present Mic doesn't mind helping~ “You’re carrying my best friends baby! I call dibs on greatest uncle!” Class 1-A is shocked to hear the news of you being pregnant and being the sweet kids they are they, of course, do thoughtful things for you! Some come to visit, some cook or clean for you and others help with errands and chores in your later terms since Aizawa is busy with his teaching duties. But his mind is on you the entire time  “Don't forget your homework due tomorrow, keep training in your quirk usage oh, and Iida, Deku, Urakaka? Go make sure y/n is comfortable.” It's literally assigned homework at this point. You’d move into the dorms towards the more difficult parts of your pregnancy so Aizawa can be close to you and of course, the kids are happy to help out! You could teach them your recipes and mother the heck out of all of them~ Even Bakugo likes you! At night after everything settles down and he makes sure your comfortable he’ll settle in with you for a much-needed cuddle session and to be honest, sometimes you have to force him because he’s so busy bending over backward for you and the class and his job that it's overwhelming but he just buries it and forgets to care for himself but your more than happy to have him with you and you always thank him for everything he does. He’s always thinking about you and your baby and you know once the babies born he has them as his phone wallpaper. You can't convince me he doesn't 

His first reaction to his baby that's...a perfect human being...

After the pregnancy, Aizawa hovers. He trusts you completely with the baby of course but he’s there at the drop of a hat if you need him, sometimes even leaving class. Especially when his baby gets a fever and he drops everything and rushes to the hospital to be with them. (It's ok, we all know All Might will take over). Once he gets the hang of it it becomes easier to balance his domestic life with you and being a hero as well as a teacher at UA. There are plenty of sleepless nights and rough mornings but he wouldn't change it for anything. Especially when their tiny hands reach up for him demanding to be held or in need of attention. Aizawa rarely smiles but his truest and most genuine are when he holds his child and interacts with them. Aizawa tries to be as active as he can in his child’s life, even bringing them into class on some days when you have to work and shows them everything daddy has to do during the day while he’s away. The child is a hit in the teacher’s lounge, several teachers and pro heroes cooing at the small bundle while Aizawa answers emails and does paperwork. You’re never wanting for babysitters as the entire Class of 1-A LOVES Aizawa Sensei’s kid day! They love interacting with them and getting to show off let’s be honest and several of the more responsible ones like Iida and Momo are the ones who get to babysit. Not Deku, don't you dare let them go on any “adventures” with him, I don't care if it's just to the convenience store, that problem child gives me enough trouble already… but it's all in a good-natured way, and come on now, we all know Deku will get his chance to babysit and it’ll probably be one zany adventure.

As the child grows Aizawa becomes more involved, especially if they join a school sport or after school club or activity. He encourages them to go for what they really want and tells them that their happiness is what matters most. Even if you want to flip burgers for a living Aizawa is a very supportive father but is always sensible in the way he does things. They want money for a new gadget? All right, do good on their chores and make sure their schoolwork is pristine and their allowance may go up a bit. They want to go out with friends to a movie? He’ll give them some money for it but just remember to answer the phone if he calls and stay safe, don't answer his first call they won’t be getting an allowance from him for a month. Those are the rules. Aizawa believes in hard work, especially if you want something, you should work hard for it. Plus let’s be honest, if they tried sneaking out or getting into trouble Aizawa would be all over them, scarves out and an angry look on his face to boot. Of course, this is his kid we’re talking about so he may take it easier on them, it just depends on the offense. Sometimes he might be tougher. 

If the child is quirkless Aizawa is much more protective. After all, his child is basically defenseless in a world full of super-people so he has to be more careful than usual. Especially when they're small. He carries them more than he probably should and is always hovering, even when they go to school, watching over them and chasing away any would-be bullies. He’s a bit more hesitant about bringing them to the school, especially with all the trouble they seem to draw but he has to learn throughout fatherhood that it's ok to let go a little and let them be who they are. Quirk or not, he loves them and they deserve to have a normal and happy childhood. 

If the child develops a quirk especially one like his, Aizawa won’t ever show it but he is over the moon. So excited like whats an appropriate age to start training my child...He googled it. You’re going to have to talk to him about that. Of course when the time is right and when they show an interest he will gladly train them but his training isnt for the faint of heart so he may be a bit rough at first. Until you see your child with a bloody nose and you have to have a talk with him. His training becomes less severe after that and he learns to balance training and childhood well, taking them out for ice cream on the same day as training them how to be soundless in their steps, or taking them to a festival while also teaching them how to observe people and behaviors. He’s a bit serious as a father but there’s always a moment where they just look at each other and smile just glad to have the other in their life~ 

[queenofallwitches]

an update and primer:

so the last winter was weird. I had a complete breakdown, went into psychiatric hospital for 40 days in total. two seperate times.

learnt a heap of new things, met a tonne of cool people and had amazing conversations and few fights but overcome my own demons by that.

brain speaking-I have a scarred brain stem and neurological disorder is not a mental diagnosis, but a neurological disorder, proven by MRI scan, ADHD.

also damage to my basal ganglia, and prefrontal cortex.

neurological diagnosis means ADHD is not a "mental" health issue, as some believe, rather a neurodevelopment disorder caused by structural differences in the ADHD brain.

other neurodevelopment disorders include: Tourettes, Autism, Cerebal Palsy, Dyslexia and other Motor and Intellectual Disabilities. (Which recieve, in my view, a lot of insight, media information and stigma reduction by the advocacy networks surrounding these types of disability).

Over the last few years Autism has been over everything, I've seen mainstream media cover Tourettes and yet ADHD is still HUGELY misunderstood, misconceived and misrepresented in media, be in from the angle of documentaries, personal insight of a "typical" case, films, tv, and other media.

one of the first things my dr told me was "in females it rarely presents as hyperactive red-cordial OD child"

which is what my mother BELIEVES, that is because I have an adopted cousin with the ADHD dx who was that growing up, but the representation I'm told is also divergent for women with a higher IQ score than the average IQ. I come in around 142 and tested 123 at age 3 when I was unable to focus, pay attention and had severe trauma. I tested 142 in grade 8.

I'll share my experience as a female who is intellectually gifted, with higher IQ than average, and an adhd brain:

I've been told gifted and talented "genius" children are harder to diagnose because the symptoms present differently, we hide it better (camouflage) and our focusing can be "faked" by mediocre efforts of academic success.. this is true, I would do the assignment the Sunday night hours deadline, last minute, or have my parents half do it for me, plagiarise it (fuck I've killed my whole academic career now) copied but changed my words

from old 1970s encyclopaedias I KNEW they couldn't cross reference (I went through 15 years of school never studying doing homework or assignments and still had top grades).

I literally did not listen, and spent my classes planning the end of the world survival strategies with my GT friend who, basically helped me with my calculus and hard fucking maths, which was the ONLY 50 minutes of the day I put attention into my work.

now I'm going to be heading back to full-time study in the coming months, I get anxious as the pressure of a Bachelor level degree, and the pressure it takes me to perform, is enough to break me down. I've been advised it might be wise to start light (like a basic vet style diploma) and then build up, which is logical, but I keep thinking I'm meant to be doing my thesis by now. which is the kind of pressure one gets as a kid who is told repeatedly, "your intelligence is exceedingly the average and you can do ANYTHING you want"

I wanted to be an astronaut, a storm chaser, and an architect, a town planner and then a journalist. I always held to being a "FBI agent" or spy (I wonder why). so when I found psychology is really a blend of all these things, I kinda found a niche in a psych and social science double degree. but I'm thinking my academic career is LIFELONG, and due to the fact I also want to work in my field alongside my many written thesis coming, I'll be in academics for a long time. I may fail a few things, which I have to come to terms with. I do not fail easily, or readily, but I'm a perfectionist type-a academic who will put my whole life on the line to achieve "merit". I get exams, I get assessments, I read journals super-easy, I talk the talk and walk the walk so well psychologists who are at masters level compliment me on my "knowledge".

when it comes to mental health and trauma, I will always have the personal attachment, called lived experience, which will make failure and burnout, 100 percent realistic. I have to boundary up, bootstraps on, and prepare that yes, my personal "bias" will probably be entwined in this.

which is why I'm looking at the social science for the statistics and thesis writing side of things, and the counselling for the trained therapist side. either way, the degree of counselling requires so much self-insight, and then the social-science will back me away from personifying it. the other choice is criminology, which leads to forensic psychology, which is eternally fascinating. my main concern is the pro-pedophile content Ill be up against, which will look at the anatomy of a shoplifter akin to the devil, and leave the pedophile in the DSM-5 dx "paraphilia" box.

I'm not joining or jumping to anything.

either way I've got 2 year of credit, a heap of pathways and a lot of "academic momentum" from all my life being aimed to be "academic powerhouse". I went through my files and found a lot of awards I'd won in my high school, and top place in the competitions we would be entering in. I remember feeling so sad if I had a "credit" vs a distinction or high distinction, only to see now, a credit in university maths in year 9 is a skillset I don't have anymore so, good on me. or a credit in English, or Science at that age was pretty impressive, considering these tests were random and not studied for.

just a general skills assessment only the top 30 kids in the year were to take on a year by year basis and put out to vet from the top universities and taken by other kids in the same grade around the state.

it puts so much focus on my intelligence, because it's primed to be that way, I know that is true. I know I feel good being academically successful and it gives me a feeling of "achievement" but is it really for me?

I also found 2 letters from my local politicians offering me job placement, work experience and I was 1/4 kids in my 10th grade graduation tom get the letter, and due to my behaviour I pissed ALL the idiots who bullied me off. I was "too pretty to be a nerd" "too smart to be pOpUlAr".

so I made a group of misfits, who are all highly intelligent, creative and my group had the ONLY gay male in the school AND THIS IS BEFORE YOU FUCKING RETARDS MADE IT "COOL". he was bullied badly, so fuck you, you fucks claim "liberalism" but I bet you were the type of idiot who bullied guys like him in high school while you pretended to like my chemical romance and fake cut yourselves. I hate you all, forever.

my grade was full of idiots who were fake emo, who left the scene the moment the scene changed to dub-step and club music. I was there, watching you all, like sonny Moore, went from FFTL to that dubstep skrillex shit he started in 2009.

I dated you, hooked up with you and I went to your gigs. I know who was real and who was fake. I met some of you years later and realised the more emotive ones were the less "alternative appearing".

I can say 1/10000 emo guys from the 00s were genuinely Into the music and scene for the right reasons based on my dating history and this can and will be analysed statistically using SPSS one day to prove a lot. I've had too many relationships from each sub-culture and I have had 4-11 males at a time per public "output" of my energy pursue me over life.

I'm not being cocky when I say I have a long line of "suitors" and its banked back about 50 men. it's been a thing I've avoided as it seems to grow based on my body shape, attitude, appearance, so I am currently out of touch with dating scenes, no interest to try that ANYWAY, given the fact that I have had so many LONG TERM relationships ANYWAY. I can't see another one going well, and at this case, I'm living with an ex but we never went on conventional and now our families label this 3 things: "asexual", "polyamorous" and "open relationship". I'm also "bisexual" but this all to humans outside, looks ridiculous on paper. (wild orgies and lots of swinging or some stupid sex magick probably is what J brother literally thinks we do).

bc humans are intrinsically designed to need to label things they don't understand. we share a lease, not a relationship, and fucking polyamorous, I WISH. there are no girl-girl-guy 3 some, or orgies, or sex magic parties.

this has changed the attitude and perception of this "relation' which Is non-romantic, non-sexual. he can date and likely, will, as can I , and I likely won't date.

I would say 14/15 have had ADHD, or other mental illness and or trauma. which means to me, nothing at all.

I think this "open book" non romantic relationship style of "friends and roommates" not sexual.

attachment is misunderstood by others but works well fro my adhd, meaning I'm not expected to marry, or be a wife in any capacity. he is free to do what he wants, as I am, and open communication is a novel frontier I brought into this in the start, and stayed with for the duration. we fight, but I fight with a lot of people in my life over many petty things. also down to my adhd, I believe, I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, which makes me hypersensitive to rejection, perceived or real.

im not sure if this is trauma or adhd or both. but

I have used sexuality as a weapon in many relationships but it cannot or will not be used here, so I have had to resort to uncovering parts of myself which I never knew, which will stay with me even if he decided to marry and wife up in 5 years, which I'm okay and expecting him to do, and I would much rather that then be trapped in a situation where I cannot be that "wife/mother archetype" as I'm too "femme fatal/other-woman/sex-laced seductress and siren" a "FWB, unicorn, drug buddy, hook-up where im a therapist" or "intellectual and cognitive mind-bender work-study obsessed woman".

both at once and many types of human, including one who is a full-time ceremonial magician of 7 years. I will drink, drug, fuck, fight like males and still be more feminine and high maintenance than 89% of women. I grew up a tomboy and don't mind getting into fun, adventure based situations, like hiking, or anything adrenaline, I would only be reluctant to eat weird shit.

I also have many "neurological" issues including ADHD, and trauma which causes a rupture in the average human and I dating.

I'll tell you how many men have said "you are the unicorn" and then realised what that means, I went as far as canvasing the PUA world back in 2014 after reading the game, a book on PUA, which is essentially, pick up artistry, based on NLP and hypnosis. I did this after reading the copy my ex in 2008 handed me before we dated saying "I gave this up for you". it took me years to open the book, buy when I did I truly believed the only way I would fall in love again, was through PUA. that failed in so many ways but gave me a training foundation for men who were candidates for that, I have trained up J, and the way that sounds is BAD. I know, but I got a lot of value myself, I just don't see it how I wanted to see it.

but that was my original intent, and I achieved this he knows that, knew it was happening and evolved for the best self.

I am thinking we can modulate this into a business model for how I was operating in the BDSM world was mainly psychological, not physical.

I get told all of is incredibly intimidating (I am told) to women and men.

I don't really care anymore, because people have always seen this part of me in the wrong way ANYWAY, but I own who I am NOW. which is what I needed ANYWAY. so it cannot be stolen again, and sexual healing has come from abstinence ironically.

I also don't care what or who is trying to tear up my relations, toxic or not toxic, all people around me will be on a healing journey by default, or cut out of my life, for I am radiating that energy so brightly its impossible NOT to feel that pull.

I will drag your shadows into the light, and make your secrets spin from your lips into my consciousness. its not what I do but its what is design.

I make your weaknesses mountains to climb over. you cannot hide from these in my presence, I won't be this controlling or obsessive female who wants 24-7 attention as I have a life full of meaning without love or sex. I don't want to be wined, dined or expensively gifted, unless specially requested.

I don't want love letters or romantic declarations, this isn't some femnazi bullshit, but it triggers me. I appreciate the efforts and won't make you feel bad about your insecurities, for mine are probably 30 x more pronounced.

I appreciate small things, that most males won't or don't know how to do. like remembering things I've said and being thoughtful. or knowing my silence isn't personal, or a game, but a protective wall. I've had songs sung too me, guitars played, songs written, or things made in ways that are heartfelt. but I've always had them used against me too. so it is the context. I value time, energy, conversations of depth and reciprocal exchange. I also value trauma understanding, my alters and fragments being accepted and valued as me as a whole and a person who is not afraid, or scared of stupid stuff like sensitivity, emotions, feelings as raw as my own. men feel intensely too, lol.

but will only give oral sex 100 times before I don't recieve it, I can communicate now so that wouldn't happen.

but I won't be a bitch about this stuff. I am extremely feminine and care in ways other people, do not, I forget nothing people tell me, so it can be a reward or reverse uno card pull in a fight, but I am not evil or deviant in my relations. I react, depending on how you treat me. I don't need your money, or providing source of income to be okay as I am my own queen, however sharing resources is okay to build something. I don't need to be seduced, but will need to be shown a person is trustworthy.

few cross that.

that will always be time-endurance and testing. there are ground rules I don't play with, or play games. or like being forced or forged into something I'm not. I know abusive and I know safe, and I am a psychology expert, trained psychotherapist and study humans for fun, so I'll always be analysing things.

and I know red flags and I know ego, I know how to placate and please and pleasure, but will only do so, for a bigger and better reason than the mere act of seduction. which is without value and transactional to someone like me, I won't lie.

and I know every tactic in the book, for the book was written by someone like me, many lives ago, and my karma is being burnt for that book.

in terms of walls, I have many, may it be called a maze. or labrnyth.

I will teach you things you never thought you'd know, and change your life in ways you won't ever be able to go back to before. I will blow your mind, sexually, emotionally, intellectually, on all levels, and I'll make your friends and family love me.

I'll bring your walls down and you won't be able to understand this, because you don't understand me, and thats ok.

but I'll always understanding you and make your life better because thats what I do anyway, and people talk to me about things I will never share, as I keep secrets. I am jealous, of everything but, only because I am attached in a disorganised way, and working on that.(I won't even mention how man women or men don't know basic psychology of themselves). I also am a therapist , for my friends and family too.i should not be , but I am. I care, I listen, If you think I'm not listening, I'm still listening. sometimes I interrupt, because I have ADHD and I am horrible at resolute planning, or being "normal". but I don't want to be normal anyway. I need you to recognise and understand my shit, for that is what I do for everyone in my life, and I have helped more than I receive.

I'll probably accidentally give you therapy, but thats fine, because you will uncover your depths and find meaning in this. it's not something that goes bad unless you are fundamentally, evil, even the most abusive relationship I was in, was benefited from this process. yes he's still narcissistic, but he is self-aware. and did I benefit, never, just know the anatomy of self-proclaimed narc and I still can't hate him. will get my civil claim one day.

I will fuck your mind without meaning too. but thats because I fuck my own mind. but the meaning is made in the man- some find this highly offensive or personal (its not). I fuck minds by my own overthinking, or over perception on many levels of reality. so join the ride, or don't come along at all. because once the rollercoaster is in motion, I have no control of what may or may not happen. it's purely experimental.

I am experimental.

and the women who are judging me, are not any better.

look within, and shut the fuck up. self-improve and quit this jealous divide and conquer bitchiness. I HATE gossip, bitches, snitches and fakers.

I look to other women who are intellectually, physically and spiritually "individual". and find value in superior status to my own, which is something my narcissistic ex taught me.

I look for mentors, and teachers and people who will teach me how to improve myself, which I am fearful to reconnect after something is amazing and I can't give anything back of positive value. I am sorry I am working on that.

I won't devalue those below me, but I also need to be mutually benefiting from a relationship.

I dont drag people down, I may disappear if I feel I am doing this by mistake. I am flakey as fuck, and sorry for that. its anxiety and lack of perfectionism, so I am wrong and bad for this. I can change. will change.

if you can find value with my relation, personal professional or romantic, we can move into a symbiotic beneficial agreement based on mutual "terms". but many won't or cannot see this, nor do I impose my bullshit into the lives of randoms at this age.

I don't care if this is cruel, it's real.

I value loyalty, compassion, self-insight/awareness, someone who understands all parts-spirituality, metaphysics while still having intellectual & logical & analytical brain-sight.

I enjoy music, magick and learning new things.

I do not care about appearances I dont think ive dated based on one time. I do value connections and chemistry which is far-few between, I hate fakers. I smell insincerity miles away. but I do respect women who are well-presented, or beautiful, with hair beauty and makeup, I can't do this shit well, so I look up to those who are in professions who do it like art. I find them to be genius level queens who scare me.

I call out bad behaviour and make people uncomfortable if they are repressed. I will change you without even meaning too, I don't even need to date you. its just my presence, over time, amplified by the intensity of the dynamics.

I don't want simplicity, but I also don't need over complexity.

I value passion, independence, creativity, curiosity, problem-solving, deep-disscussions, shared adventures and some occasional risk-taking (lol), sensuality and sexuality for a common cause beyond physical pleasure. I like being taught but not micromanaged. I need my own independence, and need to be trusted with that. I hate being scolded for that like a child, or being pushed to change my ways to conform to societal values. which I will push back and refuse to do. which is not healthy. I don't adult like many others do, but I try to proceed in other ways. and learn to adult like normal people, accept me.

I also value myself, and how I can be celebrated, enhanced and improved vs. the opposite.

I give space, and have boundaries, and understand human psychology, sexuality and relationships in ways few others unless they are trained, can do.

I value MY time. so you can have space to value YOURS. I dont need to be in anyones pocket for a long time. I love being alone, and being around people who are stimulating, but draining people will be drained out of my life quicker than I intend. I am sorry for the people who felt I disappeared, when I was only trying to be 'fair', if I feel I'm a bad influence, I will work on myself until I'm not. I'm still working on it.

I also use this psychology awareness, to enhance communication, connection. you may or may not become an accidental guinea pig. I will be upfront that I am experimental, but that is part of the buy ticket and take the ride. lets work together. not apart.

I am coming from a place of love, and love is what I feel for my animals, which you will be adopting as children.which I want to stop experiments being done on. I love love, in all ways, but hate cruelty of animals and children, violence and suffering. I dont advocate justice, because I find life is fucking cruel, unfair and unjust. by default, so I focus on myself. what can be changed, and what I am able to do in my own locus on control. I will always find myself drawn to the outsiders, the misfits, the vagabonds, the misunderstood. I want to help people who are society, or socially, disadvantaged by trauma and mental illness, but only when I have ability to help myself.

it's a journey.

I will not date anyone who is cruel to animals, outside of specify magical sacrifice, there is not any place for that. nor will I date or fraternise with anything or anyone linked or associated with pedophilia. I won't judge anyone on anything that are outside animal cruelty and pedophilia. I don't and haven't. I keep on good terms with every ex, bar 1 whom I only apologised too this year. it felt good to do that. I change my behaviour.

I am open, but also highly attuned to both logical, factual, empirical , scientific worlds, and spiritual, intuitive, psychic and the "collective unconscious". I walk in both these realms, and I am "conventionally attractive". which puts a lot of pressure on me, to be "stupid". I am always dumbing myself down to fit into normality, but I look ridiculous if I do that so I peacock my intellect.

only to be misconceived.

I give up because I no longer care how anyone but MYSELF can see ME. I won't dumb myself down , but I can enhance you UP. prepare yourself for graded education, evolution and self-growth on mass scales.sorry not sorry.

that sucks for the people who want to be living vicariously through me, for making up to lost trauma years, for family who sold me out for the success I'd bring home, or fake trauma enmeshed friends, or whatever they want or need from me. I value my time and energy, and have given that in abundance, and if you want to be with nut only "one part of me that is alters". I can't provide that now. not sorry.

I have to work on something or not be in a dynamic at all.

I no longer can switch on demand to adapt for you, it will not be effective and that upsets a lot of people. especially now I'm sober. harder to handle this, as I see the world for its ways and why it is, more vividly. I haven't had alcohol for almost 2 months, although, I could drink, I haven't.

I can't do it, anymore. it, being, faking, my selves fronting to impress. I can't. I have no more left to give, and I'm expected by everyone to be a way I can't do it in the way they want.

I will go to another year long outpatient DBT, followed by 10 weeks of A-C-T therapy, and however many ECT OR TMS may or may not help. I'm told it won't (ect) work. but TMS, is something I am open too. but I am telling you, none of this psychotherapy, that will be based on dbt skills, day therapy, intensive skills training, recommencing my studying, and resuming "life worth living" will or can wipe the traumas I've "recovered" memories for.

I will also shut the fuck up, and tell nobody about this if you leave me alone, I told that to my family, and this is open letter to the watchers, stalkers and perps who read this openly as I track the hits on here and have 200+ visits a day every day for the last month. globally. no idea how or who you are but I think its the same people who called the police for the "ayreon song lyrics" seen to be a suicide not last October.

thanks for that wake up call, I have shut the fuck up, since December, more so now. I will burn the journals, or lock them up.

my recovery is not linear, not yet fully integrated and I trust nobody so I don't think my psychotherapy will be deep, I focus on things like ADHD AND my EDNOS. and dbt skills. I won't be talking about sexual traumas.

enjoy the update, and thanks for the "attention".

I have my goals, my work, my meaning and what my life should and could and will look like, but I will not share that with anyone. that means everyone right now.

I've been tested, traumatised and terrorised to the point of not-tolerant of anyone who may bring that back, and banish the fuck out of my sphere every moment I need.

take me as I am, or watch me as I go, which I will go, where I am not wanted I will remove myself, but I will find where I am celebrated because I create that.

I will rise up against all adversity every time but that is survival and that created a resilient and brave woman, in me. who will not be destroyed or decomposed by humans who are fundamentally fucking evil.

I gift you my truth, in progression, and give up the pain of the past.

[96thdayofrage]

Mrs. Douglas was the music teacher. Let me be clear: she was not a music teacher, she taught music at the three predominately Black elementary schools in my hometown. She taught at a different school every day and, if you lived in Hartsville, S.C. any time between 1968 and 2006, she was the music teacher. Mrs. Douglas is the reason everyone from my childhood knows the words to “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” the Black national anthem.

Being home-schooled at a young age, my mother hadn’t shielded me from whiteness so much as she surrounded me with Blackness. But I longed to go to school. I wanted to play on a playground and carry books in a knapsack. Having to raise your hand to speak and eating square pizza seemed like so much fun, which is why I cherished Wednesdays with Mrs. Douglas. On Wednesday afternoons, Mrs. Douglas gave me private piano lessons in her home and I was her prized student. I was a child prodigy and–if I could just remember to lift my wrists and keep my posture straight–I was on the path to becoming the next Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles. I was always eager to play for Mrs. Douglas because she had one thing that inspired students to perform at the highest level:

Mrs. Douglas was beautiful.

Even as a ten-year-old, I could see it. Everyone could. Perhaps the best way to contextualize her beauty is to say she was a combination of Thelma and Willona from Good Times. She had a pre-Beyoncé level of fineness that made little boys swoon and little girls belt their hearts out in perfect tune. And, she began every gathering with the Black National Anthem–“Lift Every Voice and Sing.”

It really is a perfect song. God must have laid that on James Weldon Johnson’s heart because, in 169 words, he somehow captured the entirety of the Black experience. The lyrics are at once painful and triumphant without wallowing in our trauma. And when we hit that “Sing a song...” part, we really spill out all of our Blackness. In the annals of Black music, “sing a song” ranks right up there with Frankie Beverly’s “Before I let you goooooooo....” or Ricky Bell’s confession that “it’s driving me out of my mind.” If there’s anything Black America can do, we can sing a song.

Mrs. Douglas did not teach me the Black National Anthem. I have never been in a setting where people actually learned the words or the melody. Everywhere I went, people just seemed to know it. Looking back, this was probably the work of Mrs. Douglas, but for the first ten years of my life, I assumed everyone was born knowing how to blink their eyes, do the Electric Slide, and sing “Lift Every Voice.”

One Wednesday, at the end of our hourlong lesson, Mrs. Douglas gave me a copy of the Maya Angelou bestseller along with the sheet music to “Lift Every Voice,” as if one were necessary to understand the other. She told me that she would be teaching me how to play the anthem for the next few weeks but we could only begin after I read the pages she had bookmarked. In the chapter, Angelou describes her elementary school class singing the Negro National Anthem. I’m sure my piano teacher was trying to stress the importance of the song to our history and culture but all I could remember is Maya Angelou describing her anger after a local school board official denigrated the entire Black race during her grammar school graduation ceremony:

We were maids and farmers, handymen and washerwomen, and anything higher that we aspired to was farcical and presumptuous.

Then I wished that Gabriel Prosser and Nat Turner had killed all whitefolks in their beds and that Abraham Lincoln had been assassinated before the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, and that Harriet Tubman had been killed by that blow on her head and Christopher Columbus had drowned in the Santa María. It was awful to be Negro and have no control over my life.

It was brutal to be young and already trained to sit quietly and listen to charges brought against my color with no chance of defense. We should all be dead. I thought I should like to see us all dead, one on top of the other. A pyramid of flesh with the whitefolks on the bottom, as the broad base, then the Indians with their silly tomahawks and teepees and wigwams and treaties, the Negroes with their mops and recipes and cotton sacks and spirituals sticking out of their mouths. The Dutch children should all stumble in their wooden shoes and break their necks. The French should choke to death on the Louisiana Purchase (1803) while silkworms ate all the Chinese with their stupid pigtails. As a species, we were an abomination. All of us.

Jesus. Was I supposed to be reading this? Were white people this bad? Was the song this good? And how would this help me play the piano? It did not help my posture at all. I know this was probably Mrs. Douglas’s attempt to ensure that I would thank her in one of the Grammy speeches that I would surely give later in life but, Ma’am...

I. Was. Ten.

Still, enthralled by her beauty and a little disturbed by her reading assignment, I committed to playing the fuck out of that song. And, by “playing the fuck out of that song,” I basically hit the keys harder and with more emphasis (Did I mention I was ten years old?). It was obvious that Mrs. Douglas was pleased. For the next few years, I played “Lift Every Voice” at all the Black functions around town, including Pastors’ anniversaries, cotillions and every Black History Month program. I didn’t even need the sheet music. I didn’t know any other songs. To this day, my entire piano repertoire consists of “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” It was the only song I could interpolate into other keys.

But my favorite time to play the anthem was when Mrs. Douglas’s Combined Glee Club performed. The Combined Glee Club was basically the best singers from the Black elementary schools combined into one choir. Led by Mrs. Douglas, the CGC was the number-one ranked glee club in all of the greater Hartsville area. Not just anyone could be in the Combined Glee Club; you had to be selected by Mrs. Douglas. It was the official verification that you had musical talent. I’m sure some people put it on their college application.

If there was something Black going on, they were invited and those motherfuckers could sing. All of my neighborhood friends were on the Combined Glee Club and my best friend played the drums for them. (Yes, they had a drummer!) The CGC usually performed the Donny Hathaway version of “I Believe in Music” (which, until a few years ago, I believed was a song Mrs. Douglas had penned herself). But their specialty was opening up with “Lift Every Voice.”

If I am being honest, I have to admit that I am a tiny bit afraid of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” in the way that I am afraid of the Holy Ghost or making potato salad for a family dinner. I know how important it is to us, so I am afraid to mess it up. Even though I hadn’t been around white people, I somehow knew it was our song. I had never seen it on television or on the radio. It was like a secret handshake or a fried chicken recipe–It belonged exclusively to us. Plus, if I messed it up, Mrs. Douglas might not consider the marriage proposal I was planning in a few years. Every time I played “Lift Every Voice,” there was a lot riding on it.

When I finally started attending public schools, my mother enrolled me at a predominately white school where I was assigned to a homeroom where I was the only black kid in the class. I’d like to explain how the white kids made racist jokes at my expense but, if they did, I didn’t even notice it. In fact, spending time around white people for the first time at ten years old, I learned more about Black people than I learned about white people.

I had not assimilated the subconscious deference to whiteness that often accompanies being Black. I became acutely aware that white people are not smarter or even more educated than any of the kids in my neighborhood. They were perfectly mediocre. They didn’t know how to double-dutch and they didn’t even have a glee club. In music class, the teacher just passed out instruments and let the kids have jam sessions. How were they supposed to acquire their daily recommended dosage of glee? I was a little ashamed of going to school there, so I led all my friends to believe that I was still being homeschooled until they discovered the truth at the annual Holiday Music Showcase.

Every year, all of the schools would get together for a Christmas program to show off their best musicians and singers. The white schools would have violinists, saxophone players and ensembles playing classical music with terrible basslines. As for my predominately glee-less institution, we learned a special super-Caucasian rendition of “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.” I was just thankful that we didn’t have to follow the Negro Mass Choir. They were last on the program.

My white classmates were unmoved as each individual school performed and, with each successive song, I slunk lower in my seat. During Washington Street Elementary’s performance, as they lifted up His name with a perfect a cappella version of “Children Go Where I Send Thee,” a kid sitting behind me whispered:

“Look at all those lips!”

Everyone giggled. I did not.

Our performance was predictably lackluster (probably because I refused to sing). It sounded like an episode of Little House on the Prairie. It sounded like long division. Rudolph’s nose had never been so unremarkable. Had he heard those flat notes wafting through the Center Theater, I’m sure he would have been as ashamed as I was. We trudged back to our seats as the Baddest Glee Club in the Land took the stage for the last performance. Of course, they sang “I Believe in Music.” Accompanied by Mrs. Douglas on piano and my homeboy James on drums, they blew the doors off the place. Even my classmates were impressed because, when they hit one particular a cappella refrain that every Black choir does, my classmates were clapping along. They were off-beat, but they still clapped.

After a rousing round of applause, Mrs. Douglas announced the next song from her piano: “Lift Every Voice.” Of course, all of the Black people in the audience—even the children—stood up. None of the white kids even moved. I was the only person in my entire class who stood.

Mrs. Douglas didn’t play that shit.

She stood up from the piano and glared at the audience as if to say: “You motherfuckers better stand up and show some respect.” I had never seen Mrs. Douglas express anger. And she waited. And the choir waited. She looked. And the choir looked. As she scowled at the audience, Mrs. Douglas saw me standing and smiled. She waved me to the front of the auditorium and whispered in my ear: “You wanna play?”

By the time I sat at the piano and she ascended to the stage to direct the Combined Glee Club, everyone was standing. She looked at me with her usual glance and in one microsecond, my back straightened. My wrists were raised to the perfect 45 degree angle.

And just like that, I was Black.

For the first time since I had read Maya Angelou’s angry words, I was no longer afraid of the song. I don’t know if it was the repetition of playing so many times, or the hand of some unseen thing, but I was suddenly able to play and sing the song simultaneously. And goddamn, did that Combined Glee Club lift their voices. They sang that song.

Our song.

I called Mrs. Douglas today.

I had so many questions. I wanted to ask her why she dragged me around town when I don’t have a sliver of musical talent. I really wanted to know why she made me read that book. I figured she’d tell me something about building my character, giving me a reason to socialize with people my age or how music helps the brain mature. Or maybe she’d make some perfect metaphor about birds in cages.

She did not answer.

I still have a song, though.

We are the song.

[brinaedwards]

Hi, my name is Brina... and I’m a workaholic

As the above title states, my name is Brina and yes, I am a workaholic. I don't think of that as a bad thing since I enjoy the self-motivation and the feeling of accomplishment when I get tasks done. However, my boyfriend thinks that I should focus some of that time getting more hours of sleep, haha. 

I attended Valley Central High school and graduated in 2017. High school was an okay experience, if I wasn’t apart of the band program I feel that I would have disliked it more and would not have an interest in the things I do now. I’m not trying to shit on the school, but I feel that it needed a deep cleanse on administration staffing and just an overall re-look on how to spend the funding. Just saying, I think the asbestos issue should have been handled before the  bleachers and locker rooms. But, not my problem anymore, Thank God. 

When it came to deciding colleges and all that jazz, my high school was zero help in the whole process. Yes, they talked about it but at that age things should be more simplified to understand what needs to be done. I’m 22 and I just finally figured out how to build up my credit score? Like, HELLO, start teaching kids about loans and all the other financial shit that goes into college. Not to mention the absolute lack of help I got when picking my major. I knew I wanted to go into the music or media industry and of course, none of my advisors had a clue what I was talking about. I decided on OCCC for the pricing and that cushion of still figuring out what I wanted to do. I attended SUNY Orange Fall of 2017 as a liberal arts: music emphasis major. Fast forward a year later to find out that they actually have a music program! Got to love the help advisors give you right? More so, the help wrong advisors give you. That following fall I was a full Music: Performing Arts major and loved every second of it. I met amazing, talented people that I am very glad to still be in touch with. When I was on my last semester and was on the edge of graduating I had the moment of “Oh, God.. What the hell am I going to do after this”. I decided I wasn't ready to move on from SUNY Orange, since I had no idea what direction to go. I started looking into another major and that's when I found New Media! I was always interested on how content was made and what went into making a film. I remember my cousin and I used to make these little movie clips with the windows movie maker. We thought we were going to be these big movie-making hot shots at 8/9 years old haha. 

I am grateful that I took my time with school and by the end of this OCCC journey I will be graduating next Fall with two A.A.S degrees and a clear idea of where I want to go.

Aside from anything media related I’ve been on this reading kick. Genres from fantasy, horror and some history. This summer my boyfriend and I got really into reading/collecting comic books! He has way more comics than I do but at least once a week we’re at Middletown Comics seeing what new issues came out! Now with the fall/Halloween season fast approaching I have been planning some great ideas for this year! I know I may catch a lot of eye-rolls/ mini-hate from those not wishing summer to be over but I can’t wait for fall. Besides, halloween is everyday haha. I’ve been looking at Pinterest ideas on how to DIY some awesome decorations. I guess Pinterest is somewhat media related though? Ah well, since I'm back talking about it, I might as well talk about the last movie and TV show I watched. The last movie I watched was actually what had to be watched for COM 105. It was the 1995 movie Kids and uh.. it was definitely something haha. I understood the point of how it related to youth culture but I would not want to watch that movie again. As for the last TV show I watched, was again what I had to be watched for COM 105. It was Euphoria season 1 and that was a really good show. I know I only had to watch the first four episodes but I binged the whole season. The way the story was told was creative, I enjoyed the narrative back a forth style and how each character had their own stories. It made it worth getting a month of HBO Max.  

Being on the topic of last things done, I suppose the next order is the last book/video game played or finished. The last book I finished was A Map of the Dark by Karen Ellis. I got that book from Thrill Club. It’s basically a horror/thriller/anything dark and creepy book subscription. I canceled thrill club awhile ago and just now getting into the books I was sent. Anyway back to this book that I read. I found it a little empty. I just wanted more from it, it was very predictable and dry. I wanted more character depth, more suspense and just more of everything. The book is in the corner of my room at this moment because I’m going to donate it, that's how unsatisfying it was to me. But HEY if anyone is interested in a dry thriller let me know! Haha. As for the last video game played it would have to be Assassins Creed Valhalla and that was a few weeks ago. I do love to game but when I’m getting into a project or assignment, more of my focus goes into that rather than a video game. But my goal this semster is to take more time to myself and have self-care days, so Valhalla here I come! 

Going down the “Lasts” list I have to my right here is, the last thing I created. Um, I guess the last thing I created was a make up look, that I will post a pic of at the bottom!  I do have ideas I wish to create such as uploading my podcast and YouTube videos! Im a really big planner so when it comes to things like that I want to have clear, organized agenda. I do have a date that I want things done and released so there’s that! I will probably mention more of my podcast in future posts but for now things are in the works. 

Which now brings us to the last thing of the “Lasts” list. Im sure there is a tongue twister in there somewhere but I don’t have the brain capacity to think of one. My last meal on earth would have to be what I had for dinner last night. I ate cheese ravioli with a side of mozzarella sticks. 

I know this assignment was supposed to be a minimum of 500 words and I believe I exceeded that. I look forward to these blog assignments since I can let my mind go and word things as if I was actually speaking. Well with a post this long I guess it’s safe to say I was ranting. 

To future rants and of course the required MLA formatted references! 

[blankdblank]

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 33

“Ooh, this is nice.” You said inspecting the couch in the furniture store you had stopped at making Richard smirk knowing it’d fit with the armchair he had picked from the second hand shop to go with the old cabinet you had found he was curious as to why the doors and drawers wouldn’t open. That would be a project to distract him on nights you were gone back to train in New York, breaking that cabinet you adored into submission. One by one the boxes were ticked off the list of furniture to be gotten along with dishes he smirked in the teal and grey theme you chose to go with the wine glasses he wanted with silverware and knives to match. Nice and cozy you broke the apartment in arranging everything nicely for him with a very loving evening to part with for the taxi ride to fly back in time for your table read.

.

“Do you know how to juggle?” You asked once inside the salon to the woman behind the counter who shrieked in response noticing just who had arrived for their appointment alerting Cher and Lucy.

“There you are Lady Pear!” Cher said smiling on her way over as you stepped from the counter.

Lucy said, “Now our girl I do believe we are in for some more fun. And just what was Madge shrieking about?”

“Oh, do you remember who can juggle I need some lessons.”

Cher, “You need to talk to Emma then. I’ll give her a call. She’s in Jersey though visiting family when do you need the lessons by?”

“Well I’d like to get started soon, but I have some months before I’m set to film for that role. Up to Canada next week again then I have some premiers here then I’m off to England, won’t be filming till late spring for the juggling role. I’d pay-,”

Lucy shook her head after your trade of hugs saying, “Not a matter of money. Though by your skill I’m sure a couple tries and you could master it on your own after that by practice alone.”

Cher asked, “What role is this one now? Another sideshow based film?”

“It’s the King Kong remake, they have some Vaudeville scenes I wear a suit and fake mustache and juggle. Do the whole kick your hat and catch it on your head trick, might have to catch balls in it I’m juggling too, depending on what choreography we go for.”

Lucy, “Well you do amazing 20’s era, really have that whole doe eyes look they loved to flaunt and fake back then.”

“Thank you,” you said settling into the seat to be draped in a cape with Cher easing your hair out over your back after snapping the cape shut to your fingers clenching on the sleeves pooled into your palms.

Cher eased off her rings to ease through your curls saying, “I hear your film is doing well, off on Saturday and I am going to see it then, girls are under orders not to spoil it for me after prepping all week for the show tomorrow night.”

“That the costume one? Oh that’s always fun.”

Lucy smirked saying, “We could always use a guest judge.”

“That sounds like such fun, if you need me I’ll be there, could use some distraction with friends. Starting table reads in a few days.”

Cher smirked asking, “You don’t ever stop do you?” Making you giggle as she eyed the solution ingredients two aids brought over to the station while she and Lucy got to separating your hair into four sections.

“Real life energizer bunny at times feels like.”

Lucy said, “Now, ends first, and roots last since those lighten quicker.” Strip by strip they coated your curls making certain to get each ringlet in doing so to not miss any spots, foil covers for the tops of your ears were made to keep the bleach off them. The top half of your hair was next with roots done next from the bottom up using the long narrowed ends of the brushes to help divide the strips in a sort of grid. Closing your eyes however the itching was tolerated as it spread over your brows now coated in a thin layer of the bleach to match those closer to your new hair color. Up however you were helped to be taken to the rinse station, at which they carefully covered your eyes with a cloth to rinse your brows.

Cher, “This color is so pretty already.” Working the water through your hair as Lucy smoothed two drops of shampoo through your eyebrows Cher then rinsed out once she finished rinsing the solution from your hair allowing them to shampoo that as well. “Oh sugar this color is going to floor everybody. Still nice and chocolaty.”

Drying came next post conditioner rinse and up on the first chair again you settled watching your reflection to their towel drying task mingled with combing out knots before the blow dryers came out for the straightening ordeal aiding in the trimming of your ends to get it to the right length again. From boob level to chin surely your hair would spring up later and once paid you heard from one of the ladies that Emma would be at the show the following night. All morning to noon the appointment had stretched and when you finally got home you snapped a pair of polaroids of yourself and sent it off in a letter to the director for North and South to let them know on the shade your hair was now, one straightened and the other curly haired again. Giving them ample time to choose if you should lighten it more before filming or if that was a good shade to maintain.

Lee just about screamed lifting you into a hug excited on being a step closer to the filming while showing off the tips to his sideburns he had been asked to grow under his shaggy hair. And right beside you he sat at the club watching with a smile as you did the line of Drag Queens competing in an all out costume war thrilled to have you as a guest judge for the evening. Emma that morning had dropped by your place and with a trio of hackey sacks got to showing you the basics, having been a circus juggler before years prior used to juggling knives and flaming pins and such for talent portions on shows she took part in. True to the assumption roughly you had gotten the basics of juggling and with some practice you could easily master it. Daily with the balls she left with you you’d practice and weekly she’d come by to add in some more difficulty to the task to aid in whatever style of juggling they would ask you to do, promising to go over any others you would be asked to do after deciding on your routine.

.

*

Staring at the cabinet he’d hoisted down to the approved spots in the parking lot to the apartments assigned to you and Richard through your stay beside his rental he opened his tool chest and got to work on the cabinet. Around the back clearly marks of former tries to paint over the charred wood that clearly didn’t take the paint then sanded awkwardly he got to removing whatever coating they gave it with mask and clear glasses in place while he got to sanding the legs. Rough and chipped in a few places until he could wipe off the coatings to the body he smoothed those down and smiled after having added some wood putty to the deeper chips and gashes he would re-stain later.

Across the body the charred wood was a clue as to how the warping had come about and with the paint gone he caught sight of some hidden hinges he used to help wriggle some give in the front door until one of the doors slid out on the other end just enough for him to work a screw driver into it. Biting his lip carefully he wriggled the metal in the edge until an exhale worthy grunt like sound the wood gave in the door opening splitting a smile across his face. With that the second was opened, though view of the interior was not taken in full at the greeting from a neighbor on their way out for the day, returning the wave and good morning Richard chuckled in sharing a passing jest at picking up a second hand rebuild job, “See you picked up a diamond in the rough.”

“Oh ya, emphasis on rough. But my partner loved it, here’s to hopes I can get the drawers open too.” Chuckles were his answer with a wish of luck on their drop into their open car and Richard turned back to the open cabinet eyeing the somehow intact emerald velvet lined cubby beside three internal shelves with some odd papers and old pens inside.

With furrowed brows he pulled the top stack out of brittle old papers with ink well worn off, the remainder hinting at receipts with crests and names of the company long past readable. Each of the two mother of pearl and gold pens void of ink were tested on a bare notepad found on the second shelf he set under a spare wrench on the ground safe from the repair job. The third shelf with a silver folding frame with a black and white picture of a woman in a swing opposite a man in a suit with cane and hat in hand with a terrier tucked at his hip. Unable to help it he smirked and closed that adding it to the pile starting to use a small brush to try dusting off the velvet he would vacuum later before inspecting the drawer just below the lip under the belly of the cabinet.

Carefully again prying the seams with the screwdriver subtle wiggles enabled one inch to be managed. Enough for him to work his fingers in and jostle the sides enough to break whatever crud was stuck in the grooves locking the drawer in place to where he could not just ease it out but wiggle it off the groove allowing access to the second drawer as well. Excited and smiling again he sat on his stool with drawer on his lap eyeing the thin books he set aside with the papers from before his eyes fell to a brown paper wrapped parcel, lifting that he smiled in peeking inside to find a music rod for a music box he hoped to be in the second drawer. Old leather gloves too small for his hands could clearly be framed for display alone at their crafting he admired the style of. Both added to the pile to let him turn the drawer on end to use another brush to wipe out the grooves and see if the ends of the wood was warped and needed sanding to slide in and out smoother.

All the while that second drawer taunting him. Finally he got to wriggling this obstinate one free finding a metal money clip partly to blame wedged in the edge between the body of the cabinet and the side of the drawer that once freed eased out freely to be settled on his lap. The clip clearly bent beyond use was set down and his eyes fell to the glass topped music box stirring a pleased chuckle from him. “There you are,” he muttered lifting it and seeing inside a rod already. Setting that aside his focus turned to the handwritten note on the slip of paper above a worn advert for a play, softly he read the cursive French he could make out to himself taking in the meaning right away, a lover’s plot. “Call at five, something, something show, dinner at, The Grey Eagle?” Wetting his lips feeling his brows furrow unable to know if that was the right name or not. Then his eyes fell to the next line, “Ask the question, do not forget the ring.” The underlined and bolded letters for the second half made him chuckle to himself realizing this was a planned proposal. “Wonder how you managed old chap without your gloves.”

Again he wet his lips inspecting the play advert he set aside to eye the only thing left in the drawer, an odd indigo colored rock he lifted. “Hmm,” turning it over in hand his fingers clenched shut around it at his wide eyed notice of the split in the rock making him right it again and bring it closer to his face. Looking closely his palm eased open with his free fingers to settle around the top to lift it finding a hinge revealing the inner violet layer inside what his brain now classified as a geode box. Though those stones didn’t keep his focus long as the pair of rings drew his focus right off.

White gold bands, the female with a large emerald in the center rectangular with corners shaved off to allow the strips of diamonds around it accented by three sideways rectangular smaller emeralds shrinking in size down the band on either side. Heavy to lift on its own even without the geode he wondered how someone had forgotten about the pair in getting rid of this cabinet. However curiosity got the better of him and the male ring was inspected next. Another rectangular emerald, lined in white gold as were the other stones, each of which down the broader band like pyramids of two onyx stones surrounding diamonds, all in rectangular blocks for four layers on either side separated by similar thin white gold strips accenting each stone and their own beauty. Like the other he turned it over in hand feeling the heft of the clearly expensive beauty and chuckled seeing the word ‘spoon’ etched inside the band making him lift the other to find it there as well.

Placing both back into the rock he instinctually slid into his pocket he smiled getting back to work on the piece. Hinges were checked with doors sanded and ensured to open easily now with drawers tested to slide effortlessly as well before he got to giving the back of the cabinet another good sanding before staining the wood a deep mahogany how you had wanted around the decorative border to be left in its natural ashy tone. Once aired out and dry fully and he had carried the contents back upstairs he readied to take the cabinet back up on the dolly. With supplies cleared along with the tarp he used to keep the spot clean of any debris or stains as per the rules given by the landlord in the office who was pleased to see he’d been one to follow them.

All the same once it was settled back into place he photographed it and added that to the picture of the before pile from each angle then got to digging through the receipts again. with furrowed brows he used a torch to help write out what he could read off each until he got a name of a family he recognized from the remainder of a stationary pad. Horses, related to horse breeders up here in Canada he found the name Hercle Gibraltyr. To the phone book he went finding a number related to the eldest most notable relative certain to know of such a set of heirlooms missing and after about an hour of agitating reroutes to his call he finally got the bristly man himself on the line.

“What’s this about a ring purchased by myself?”

In French Richard replied, “No, Sir, my name is Richard Armitage. My Partner and I bought this cabinet at a shop and inside was some belongings. I found an old stack of papers with the name Hercle Gibraltyr on it. I was wondering if you might know about it?”

“Belongings? What sort of cabinet was it?”

“Just an old cabinet with some shelves and drawers in it, possibly from an office or sitting room.”

“Was it burned?”

“A bit charred on the back, yes.”

“Ah, must have been from his house then. After the fire his siblings pillaged the place and sold the rest. All you found was some receipts?”

“Receipts, some gold and pearl pens, a music box with a second song rod. Also some gloves and what looked to be plans of a proposal,” that had the man shifting in his seat making Richard’s chest clench a moment, “Along with this geode box with what look to be two expensive rings inside. Oh, and there’s a pair of photographs of a man and a woman in a silver folding frame, forgot that.”

“Emerald rings?”

“Yes sir, which was why I was calling. I’ve been researching rings for a time for my own partner and by their size they must be expensive and surely someone has missed them.”

A deep breath was taken and the man asked, “Would you be able to meet me somewhere today?”

“Yes, I’m free today.”

“You can keep the cabinet if you don’t mind bringing the things that were inside it.”

“Of course,” he said using his pencil from earlier to write the address to meet the stranger. Anxious beyond a doubt in a cloth messenger bag you had left there he settled it all carefully and shouldered it to get driving. It was a bit of a drive so he figured he could be early. And once at the upper scale bar he wet his lips and stepped out of his car he locked to approach the door where a bouncer seemed ready to kick him back off the curb until he gave his name that confirmed he was allowed to this exclusive establishment. Once inside a second man took his name and guided him to a glass encased side lounge decorated with black leather couches and tables to match with just the grey walls to offset the dim atmosphere even while the sun blazed its best outside between bouts of snow from days prior.

“Can I get you a drink?” A woman asked turning Richard around luring her grin out recognizing him in the drop of his coat onto the couch behind him.

“Soda, please?”

She nodded and without a word blushing her way back to the bar she went while he settled down onto one of the couches sighing in the internal screaming match with himself at how he was letting these perfect rings go knowing he could have easily kept them to propose the minute you got back to his arms again. Though earlier than he had expected the man who bid him here came strolling through the door. Silver hair brushed back with a suit putting Richard’s flannel and jean wearing self, with a pair of forced grins the men stood in the room closed off behind them by a second woman who had taken Jean’s order. In a shake of hands Jean said, “Thank you for meeting me so short notice.”

Richard shook his head, “No problem. Schedule is packed the rest of the week, this was our chance and I’d hate to have had to wait myself.” They sat and Richard opened the bag showing him the before pictures of the cabinet then got to bringing out the papers and pens along with the gloves. The former two Jean got to inspecting carefully. The music box and second rod was next, all unimpressive to Jean until the picture frame was out and Jean smiled in accepting the silver frame, “Ooh, poor great great uncle Hercule.” The playbill and to do list was next he chuckled at then looked to the geode box Richard offered in his palm.

“They are really beautiful, they’d be glad to have them back.”

Jean smirked saying, “Unfortunately he and his beloved Celeste passed ten years back. He had terrible luck all his life, absolutely adored Celeste, and she managed to help hold off the chaos of his life. He was successful with her at his side, used to tell me how a fire in his home office spoiled the perfect proposal he had planned while he was away in England. His family couldn’t find the right cabinet, as he built so many to try and perfect his household for Celeste’s taste and thought the rings he designed were lost to the flames. Though luckily for him,” he said lifting one of the two rings making him smirk at the engravings matching on both rings, “She preferred rubies and despised emeralds,” making Richard chuckle.

The doors opened and the blushing woman came back leaving their drinks on the table and backed out closing the doors again still smiling at Richard who said, “A bit lucky on that part then. Why spoon though?”

Jean chuckled saying, “When they met she was working in her family’s silver shop, polishing spoons. He always stopped in claiming he’d lost his stirring spoon for his tea, only wanted to speak to her. Had hundreds to pass down to their kids by the time they inherited his lot. How long have you and your Partner been together?”

“Few years now, bit rough at first, from different countries, we’re Mates actually, started talking online then managed to meet in person when she came to England for winter break. Took about a year to get settled into the long distance issue, but we’ve gotten used to working our schedules for time together between work.”

“I know the struggle, first two wives couldn’t handle my work, hated coming in second to my horses. I do hope that won’t be an issue for you both. Luckily my Mate and I are best friends and work so at least he helps to ground me between wives and moods.”

“Oh no, it won’t be. I’m making sure of it. Couple years back, there was this car that came barreling at her in the park, her friend saved her life,” parting Jean’s lips, “But our mark bruised and it terrified me to no end. Thought I lost her, and we were on bad terms at the time I’d been in such a foolish mood about the distance and just nothing. But I flew out and since I’ve changed my ways making certain to not let my doubts in the lowest moments of my moping when apart to cause a fight or anything to damage our relationship. Her dad approves, had been hinting he wants us to get married in the near future, given his approval, loves us together. So I’ve been looking at possible designs, though with the jumble of ideas from her cousins I’m likely to propose with a pebble and then drive her to a jewelers so she can pick for the both of us.”

Jean chuckled again and while they sipped on their drinks he got to sharing the dilemmas his exes had given him on the rings they ended up trading for others anyways. Leading to his third wife where he just sent the jeweler to the house while he was away on a work trip to design both of their rings to simplify matters. Which didn’t in the end as she resented him for not traditionally proposing to her. More stories were shared of the couple that brought the duo together until a call had Jean sighing and saying, “Work calls. It was a pleasure to meet you Richard, honestly I must say I am more interested in the papers, pictures, pens and gloves. You wouldn’t be interested in the music box would you?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, my Partner would love it.”

Jean chuckled and nodded gathering up the rest he added to his own briefcase still holding the rings while he brought out a pad and pen and began to write something down using of his own pens. One tear later and he passed the page to Richard encouraging his eyes to drop to it until Jean spoke offering the geode box parting Richard’s lips, “I want you to have these. You will make better use of them than I could. Perhaps unlike Hercule it might bring you and your partner some luck. With a receipt of your own. All their living triple great grandchildren wouldn’t appreciate them half as much as you would. Far beyond the roots their ancestors would have preferred and found themselves cut off, more likely to pawn them in any case. Have a good day.” Hands were shaken again. Richard’s hand molded around the geode box Jean got up and headed for the door easing those gloves from the cabinet onto his hands for a perfect fit, leaving the stunned actor in place, ears ringing in shock at the stunning gift.

Carefully he bagged up the receipt, music box and song rod pocketing the geode box again on his own way out leaving a bill to go with Jean’s on the table easing his coat back on readying for the chill outside. Once in the car he smirked turning the engine over feeling a chuckle freeing itself from his chest at the odd sense of relief washing over him. In moving the geode box from his pocket to the cup holder for a more comfortable drive curiously he lifted the male ring and found himself easing it onto his left ring finger for what would be a fated perfect fit.

Back towards the apartment he went stopping at a jewelers he had strolled past a few times days prior to renting the place here trying to build up courage to enter for some ideas. The place was quite upscale, surely out of his price range leading to his evident refusal to enter until he had a larger pool of funds tucked away to draw from. All the same he parked bringing the bag with him inside where that out of place feeling crept back up again.

Forcing a grin he caught the eye of two of the blondes in the shop along with the buzz cut bearing man in a suit who came over to handle the tall man and bring him a bit away from the redheaded upper class housewife here to have her ring resized. While designing a new necklace to go with her lavish collection at home to go with the new Bently outside. “How might I help you sir?” The man asked with a feigned grin of his own adjusting the top button on his suit jacket that was sitting a bit crooked on him from a sideways lean a few moments ago.

“Well two things really,” Richard said easing the geode box from his pocket, “I just found these heirloom rings,” easing the ring off his finger again to bring it with its partner into his vision lifting his brows at the pieces, “I was hoping to have them possibly cleaned up a bit and appraised.”

“You are wanting to sell them?”

“Oh no, I was planning on proposing to my Partner but I know her family will be wanting details on it for stone sizes and such.”

“Ah,” he said with a creeping grin now readying himself to aid in what could be a future client apparently on a rough day out in the country explaining the casual clothes and lack of suit. “All of that will be quite simple, and should not take long if you wished to wait here for the cleaning to be through.” He turned his head and another man from the back, his senior in the cleaning aspect of the job came to collect the rings and pause in simply testing the weight.

“Lovely rings, don’t find quality work like this anymore, where did you buy them?”

“Found them in an old cabinet I’m refurbishing actually. Great Great Uncle Hercule thought he lost them in a fire at his house but the drawers were just wedged shut.” The story just slipped out and in their eyes the glint of old money flashed evidently calming the duo even more that this customer had been doing repairs earlier and came right over to see to these heirlooms.

The salesman said, “The good sir here was wishing for a full disclosure of quality and clarity as well of the rings for when he proposes to his fiancé to be.”

“Of course, sir,” the cleaner said stepping away, “Your rings are in the best of hands, sir.”

In his absence the salesman asked, “Have you considered wedding bands yet?”

“For myself, no, I do know her cousins said maybe hearts,” to another counter he was led and a series of choices from simple barely visible thin bands both with and without stones absolutely baffling him.

“As always when you bring in your fiancé to get the ring resized, if needed, we could get her input as well. Most of our clients do take that route since she would be wearing them, then she could choose if she wants a full band all its own or something to ghost up against the engagement ring. And color talks could go on for days if she is quite picky like most women are in this important piece.”

The cleaner came back and Richard flashed him a hint of a grin as he said, “Quite stunning pieces originally you have here, even more so once they are cleaned and polished up a bit. Starting with the male ring. Seven carats for the center with the others at half a carat each on a 24 karat white gold band. The center stone was appeared to be scuffed but after cleaning it is like new again. Same as the female ring. The center stone on hers is just shy of eight carats actually surrounded by one carat diamonds and emeralds on the 24 karat white gold band. Any woman will feel quite the Princess wearing this ring. Both by my estimation could fetch up to 750k a piece, and that is being stingy since being polished could fetch even more with this clarity.”

“I don’t think I could tell her that. She might be a bit scared to wear it then.” Making the men chuckle as Richard did to himself, “And with that she might try to go skimpy on a wedding band in that case. Thank you for cleaning them they do look fantastic now.”

With a passing of bills over he paid and accepted a card to book an appointment for when you might want to shop for wedding bands or to drop off the ring should it need resizing. And just buzzing Richard with ring in hand finally parked back at the apartment spotting Lee in his return from another day out with a few friends. Trading nods he joined their group to the lift and into the hall where they split to head to the separate apartments. Freeing the Brit to have a moment in silence to walk from his now locked door to the living room where he gave an excited wiggle in settling the bag down on the couch at having such a huge score landed for the next step forward with you. Back into the cabinet the box and spare rod were settled and to your room he went to find a place to hide the rings in their velvet protective pouches and the geode box where you wouldn’t find them.

“What do you think of emeralds?” was the first question out of his mouth in dialing a number he hadn’t expected to upon fixing himself up some supper to eat.

“Emeralds?” Your father answered and gave a soft sigh having gotten back inside himself from a long day on the ranch. “For,” the reason clicked in his head and he asked, “You picked a ring?!”

“We bought this cabinet that Jaqi loved and I managed to get the doors and drawers un-jammed and there were these rings inside. I found a relative of the old owner and he said I could keep them. Got them cleaned and they’re appraised at over 750k a piece.”

“I want you to describe them but take a picture and mail it to me. You could give her a block of cheese with a bow and she’d say yes, but think I would like to get a peek before the grandparents get to see it in the press.”

“I will, I still have to see if it fits her first.”

“Details Rich, details.”

Pt 34

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun​, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim​, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf​

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

1 and 9?

1. what is/was school like for you?

School was apparently stupidly easy throughout elementary school. In kindergarten, I’d finish the work before the teacher finished explaining the assignment because I could read faster than she could talk, and then I’d want to help the others or go do something else. They had a counselor come sit in on the class to observe me after a while (and the teacher complaining) and he promptly informed everyone that he was absolutely certain that I had ADHD, and that the solution was not to medicate me or switch classes, but for the teacher to step it up and keep me engaged. 

After that, they wanted to move me to third grade, but I was only five years old so instead, I did first grade half in English, half in Japanese. But the Japanese teacher really did not like me (because I was younger than the other students) and despite doing well in the class, she refused to teach me. She called me “the baby” and made me sit off to the side and “play” instead of lessons most of the time. Halfway through the year, they moved me back to an all English first-grade class, and I had the meanest teacher I’ve ever had. I got in trouble a lot. 

In second grade, my teacher was a gem and instated a rule that I could move around however I wanted, and sit in whatever position I wanted... as long as I could touch my desk. She incorporated singing into the lessons, which I found fascinating, and had a lot of student participation which helped. I have been reliably informed that this was the point when other students started to bully me, but I have very little or no memory of it. I asked a friend about it once, and she has vivid memories of it all. When I asked her why, she said, “People thought you were really weird”. I just said, “I am really weird.” 

In third grade, my teacher gave out “points” for good behavior, and had a separate area of the classroom for play once work was finished. She kept legos and other fun toys on hand which was great, and I started trying to build up good behavior points to buy little gifts for my mom in the student store. That year, I made student of the month for the first time and cried. 

In fourth grade, I broke my wrist and the boy next to me got mono so I sat alone most of the year. My teacher liked to read to us from The Hobbit or the Chronicles of Narnia. Not many memories from that year. 

In fifth grade, my teacher was a tiny amazing woman who encouraged me to write stories once I had finished my work. My friends and I formed an author’s club and a book club, and that’s when I really started writing in my free time. 

Sixth grade was the first year I had multiple teachers (in middle school you change classes). It’s also the first year I remember struggling with math. 

Past that point, it’s really hit or miss. Sixth grade was the year I was formally diagnosed with OCD and major depressive disorder. It’s very common for folks with ADHD to hit a breaking point and suddenly struggle immensely, and most of my memories of middle school are of sitting at the dining room table in tears, radio on in the background because I needed a dual focus point, trying desperately to do my math homework. 

For the first time in my life, I felt stupid. I had always been “the smart kid”, the “gifted child”. As I failed to comprehend basic math concepts, my self-esteem plummeted. Something in my brain interpreted this as a loss of control, and I started washing my hands until they bled. I started self-harming. I wasn’t sleeping well. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, and all I could see was that everything I had ever thought myself to be was a lie, and everyone was going to be so disappointed that I failed to live up to all that supposed potential. 

My mom found me a therapist (whom I still see to this day). We figured out how to keep my hands from looking like desert battlegrounds. I joined student government, but for the first few years, people didn’t like me much. I made the National Honor Society but had to drop out in tenth grade because I couldn’t make an A in math class. I was on track for the College Prep. Honors diploma, but I missed it by (you guessed it) one math class. 

I found choir and theater, and I excelled in English. I struggled a lot, but I found my niche, and I threw myself into art subjects with everything I had. My graduated class was really small, so we all go to know each other really well and I got along well with basically everyone (though I was still very weird. I just knew how to own it and roll with it). 

I couldn’t afford a university (my family went through a really hard financial patch), so I applied for community college. I had a lot of angst about that because, at 17, it felt like failing somehow. (It’s not, and don’t let anyone tell you it is. Community college is dope, valid, and budget-friendly.) I did great in my classes... but bombed math. Totally failed it. Straight “F” for the first time in my life. And I burnt myself to the ground. 

In nine months I did six stage productions and 20 classes. I got to school around 7AM and left after midnight sometimes. Other unfortunate circumstances occurred (cough trauma cough) and I ended up leaving the school for a gap year, but I was suicidal and struggling a lot. 

A year later, I made it into my dream school and I moved out of state to attend. One of the first classes I had to take was a math class, and I was distraught. But something about this teacher, and the way he taught, and the type of math it was... it clicked. I passed the class with a B+, and it fulfilled my math requirement forever. I called my mom sobbing. 

I had a great first year, went back for the second... and burnt myself out again. More unfortunate circumstances occurred, and between the harassment, the social abuse, the verbally abusive director I had for the show I was in that year, and a roommate who wouldn’t speak to me, I burned myself out again. 

I dropped out after that year. It took five years to gather up the willpower to try again. Last year, I finished my degree via online classes. Somewhere in there, I stumbled upon ADHD characteristics and got curious. Asked my mom and turns out they had me unofficially diagnosed when I was five and no one informed me. They did their best to help things along, though. My mom interviewed and hand-selected my teachers where she could. The administrative staff was onboard to work with me instead of against me. I just had no idea. 

TL;DR: School was interesting, I had no idea I had ADHD and just kind of muddled along wondering why I was so weird/couldn’t shut up half the time. Gifted kid burnout, college blew up in my face, lots of mental health stuff and pain later, ta-da! AA. 

(If ya’ll could see the face Grammarly is making at me because of the tone and wording of this post... it’s like O_O-- “bitch is you ok?”). 

9. favorite stim / one you do most often?

I only very recently became aware that I stim. I’ve always done it, but again, I was not aware that I had ADHD until last year. Most common ones are leg bouncing and-- if I’m playing an instrument, reading, or thinking-- rocking. I do think there’s something to be said for... I don’t know how to say this and not make it weird, but... having something to chew/suck on? Because I bite the inside of my mouth a lot, and if I have a lollipop, I’ll first finish it, then chew on the stick, etc. but I won’t seek things out to... put in my mouth, if that makes sense? I also sing basically constantly if I’m alone. There are more, but they don’t come up as much. 

[therainroguefanfiction]

⍚ HaikWeek!! 2020 ⍚ Day 4 (Kuroo & Kenma) Best Friends

📑 Table of Contents | « Previous Day

Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Slice of Life, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3,225

Pairing: Kuroo, Foreign Reader, Kenma

World: Haikyuu!!

Prompt: Favorite Pair/Duo + Childhood Friends  

Author’s Note: Here is the next entry for @haikyuuweek2020​~ Huge shoutout to @lanaaize​ for informing me that Kenma was seven and Kuroo was eight when they first met! I wasn’t sure of this information since the wiki just says “when they were kids” and I was thinking seven but a friend was thinking five, so I was originally gonna go with six!

━━━━━━༻⍚ 🏐 HaikWeek!! 2020 🏐 ⍚༺━━━━━━

Being the new kid was never an easy task, but it seemed even worse when you came from a foreign country. Everyone knew you were different – they could tell from the way you looked and the way you talked. You were just a kid and, while you were doing your best to learn Japanese, you were clearly a beginner.

The other kids tried to interact with you but you shied away from them because people made you uncomfortable and because you couldn’t understand what they were saying. Even when they purposely talked slow, practically screaming into your ear, you only caught a word or two. The lessons were also hard because you struggled to understand what the teacher was saying.

All of this led to you being fairly isolated in your new home. You had no friends, which you weren’t too fussed about, but learning the language was hard. Even if you didn’t want to interact with others, you still wanted to be able to understand what they were saying. Without friends to hang out with, you had more time to study the language and to read your favorite books.

The teacher was concerned about you, though, constantly trying to include you and encouraged you to interact with the other kids. You weren’t alone, though, she did the exact same thing to another kid in your class, a boy named Kozume Kenma. This boy had black hair that stopped at his chin, bangs straddling his eyes like a curtain, those cat-like golden eyes that were always observing.

He was a quiet boy, always keeping to himself and playing on his portable gaming console. After months of trying to get the two of you to participate with the rest of the class, she finally gave up, much to the relief of the two of you.

The first time you interacted with Kenma was when the teacher paired the both of you for an assignment one day. It was fairly simple – both of you had to choose a subject and then draw what the other person chose. You ended up choosing a library while he chose a gaming console.

Neither of you had much talent when it came to drawing and the items you had drawn didn’t even resemble what it was supposed to. You had both tried so hard at it, too, but the scribbled mess had you both giggling. For the first time, Kenma had found someone that he felt comfortable around.

After that, the two of you started to spend time together. You wouldn’t classify each other as friends, but you certainly felt comfortable in each other’s presence. There was no need to talk between the two of you – he would sit and play his game while you sat and read. Things were peaceful and the two of you were content.

“Class, please welcome Kuroo Tetsuroo! He’s just moved here, please treat him kindly,” Aiko-sensei smiled kindly, her hand on the boy’s shoulder.

You tilted your head as you observed the boy. His hair was as black as night, sticking up in multiple directions like a bunch of weeds, and his eyes were a beautiful shade of dark brown. He was fidgeting beside the teacher, his cheeks a soft pink as his eyes settled on the ground.

Honestly, you felt for him, really. Just a few months ago you were that awkward kid at the front, everyone’s eyes on you. It certainly wasn’t a fond memory and you felt bad that he was going through it, as well. You wanted to reach out to him, to let him know that it got easier, but you were far too shy to do so.

The first week that he was at school, he did better than you in the respect that he could actually speak with the other kids, but his replies were short and soft-spoken. You often found yourself observing him, too scared to approach him yourself so watching him was enough. Even if you did have the courage to approach him, you doubted he would understand your broken Japanese.

It was recess and you and Kenma had been forced outside, leaving the two of you to curl up in the shade of a nearby tree, shoulders resting against one another. He was playing on his game system, some fighting game that you had tried and failed at, while you were reading a book about witches and wizards that he found boring. It was just another day for the two of you, until Kuroo slowly approached, his hands clasped behind his back and eyes trained on the system in Kenma’s hands.

“Hello,” he called out softly, shifting his weight. “Whatcha playing?”

Kenma glanced up, debating on whether he should ignore the boy or not but, finally, he answered. “Kombat of Mortals III.”

Kuroo’s eyes lit up. “I love that game! I have it at home, it’s lots of fun.”

“Yeah…”

The ravenette squatted down in front of you both. “My name’s Kuroo Tetsuroo. What’s yours?”

“…Kozume Kenma.”

“Nice to meet you, Kenma-san!” Kuroo looked at you expectantly and you bit your lip, eyes shooting to Kenma who sighed in frustration.

“This is L/N Y/N.”

He smiled at you softly, “Nice to meet you, Y/N-san!”

You nodded, managing out a “You too,” in broken Japanese.

He tilted his head, observing you for a moment before settling down across from you, a kind smile on his face. When he spoke this time, he was speaking in heavily accented English. “Do you speak English?”

Your eyes lit up and you nodded frantically, closing your book to give him your attention. “Yes, I do!”

“I can help you with your Japanese if you want.”

“I-If you don’t mind,” you smiled shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’d like that.”

Something changed for the three of you that day, shaping the future to properly handle the three of you together. It wasn’t long before the three of you became inseparable.

Something that Kuroo loved to do was play volleyball. It made him happy like Kenma’s games or your books, but it was a sport that simply couldn’t be played alone. Because of this, you encouraged him to join the school’s volleyball club which he did without hesitation. While he still made time for the two of you, he spent a lot of time with the club.

Kenma wasn’t really bothered by this, but you were. What if he found new friends and left the two of you behind? He had become an important person in your life and the main reason you had advanced so well in learning Japanese. You couldn’t imagine your life without him in it, or without Kenma. They were your best friends, your only friends.

When you brought this up to Kenma, he told you that you were worrying for nothing. Kuroo wasn’t the type to just abandon his friends because they didn’t share his interests. You still worried, though, because that was what you did best.

You weren’t sure if Kenma had relayed this information to him, but Kuroo started to try and get the two of you to play with him by teaching you the basics of the game. You tried desperately to enjoy it, but you had no athleticism in your body. You hated the experience, but you plastered on a fake smile and never complained.

Kenma also didn’t enjoy the experience, but he was much more vocal about it, constantly complaining about how it was too much effort and he didn’t like how tired it made him feel. Despite this, the three of you continued to play volleyball together, well into your middle school years.

Kuroo convinced the two of you to try out for the team.

It was frustrating for you, really. Kenma didn’t try at all, yet he was so good at the game, able to read the slightest movements of those around him. They happily accepted him onto the team which he was visibly unhappy about. Meanwhile, you did your absolute best to keep up but you didn’t have Kenma’s observational skills or Kuroo’s intelligence and athleticism.

While they weren’t allowed to turn students away who wanted on the team, the captain did ask you if you wanted to be their manager instead. It was obvious to you that you were terrible at the game and stood no chance of standing on the same court as your two best friends. You had heard the older kids snickering behind your back at how bad you were.

In the end, you decided not to join the team.

Kuroo was sad by this and he asked multiple times if you were sure about the decision, but you assured him that you had given it a lot of thought. Sports just weren’t for you, you’d rather be reading and learning instead of running around chasing a ball. Kuroo accepted this answer, but Kenma knew better. He could see it in the way you were subtly pulling away from them.

Although Kenma wasn’t really one to confront people, he knew he had to in this case. He skipped practice one afternoon, heading to the roof where he knew you liked to hide and read.

You were surprised to find him there, knowing that he was supposed to be at practice. “Ken-chan? What’s wrong?”

He settled down across from you, scooting closer until his knees bumped against your own. His chin was propped up against his palm, eyes scanning yours. “Why are you pulling away from us?”

“Eh?” you quickly flicked your gaze back to the book in your lap, hoping that if you didn’t look in his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to read you. That was a pipe dream, of course. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You think we’re going to leave you,” he stated, pausing to observe your expression. “So you’re pulling away from us slowly thinking we won’t notice. You think it will hurt less if you’re the one that pulls away.”

You lowered your head in shame, slowly nodding. “I’m sorry, Kenma. I just…”

“You’re negative like me,” he shifted closer, settling down beside you until his shoulder bumped yours. His head tilted back to look up at the blue sky, squinting at how bright it was. “You’re my best friend, though, so you won’t be losing me anytime soon. I don’t like speaking for others, but I’m sure Kuroo feels the same.”

“Feels the same about what?”

Both of you snapped your heads toward the roof entrance where Kuroo stood, panting softly as he wiped sweat from him chin, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the two of you. Kenma exchanged a look with you before nudging you in the side, a silent sign to tell him how you were feeling.

Taking a deep breath, you explained your feelings to them, putting your heart onto your sleeve. “I love you both so much, you’re my best friends, my only friends but… I’m scared that you’re going to leave me behind. I tried so hard to get better at volleyball but I’m just not good at it and I don’t enjoy it. You seem so happy out there, Kuroo. And even you do sometimes, Ken. I didn’t mean to but… I guess somewhere deep down I thought it would be easier on me if I pulled away from you instead of waiting for you to leave me…”

Kuroo frowned, squatting down in front of you just as he had the day you had first spoken, and he took your hands into his own. “You and Kenma are my best friends! How could you think I’d ever abandon you? No matter what happens, I will always be by your side! You too, Kenma!”

Kenma jumped, nose wrinkling. “Why are you including me?”

“You’re part of this, too!” Kuroo grinned, dropping one of your hands so he could take one of Kenma’s. “No matter what, the three of us will be together forever. That’s a promise!”

“You… you really mean it?” you questioned softly, feeling tears sting at your eyes.

“Yup!”

Using your free hand, you scrubbed at your eyes to get rid of the tears, smiling brightly. “Thank you, Kuroo!”

“You can use my first name, you know,” he stuck his tongue out, poking you in the side.

“Tetsuroo,” you tested his name before nodding. “I like it!”

He giggled, throwing himself forward with one arm around each of you. “My best friends~”

You returned the hug without hesitation, rubbing your cheek against his while reaching out your hand to take hold of Kenma’s. “My best friends!”

Kenma sighed, not into the overly sappy expressions of love but he eventually gripped your hand, free hand lightly patting the older boy on the back.

The house was silent, the lights turned off to blanket the living room in darkness. Everyone was waiting with bated breath for the teenager to return home – his family, his volleyball team, and, of course, you and Kenma. The two of you were at the back of the room, sharing the large charge sitting in the corner and holding party poppers.

Today was Kuroo’s birthday and he would be returning home from a shopping trip with his grandmother any moment now. The cake sat on the table, the candles just waiting to be lit. Surrounding it was several plates of grilled salted mackerel, his favorite dish.

The front door clicked as the handle was turned and everyone held their breath, preparing to jump out at him as soon as he stepped through the door. His tall silhouette appeared in the doorway, followed by his confused voice. “Why are the lights off?”

On cue, his mother flicked the lights on and everyone chorused, “Happy birthday, Tetsuroo/Kuroo!!”

His wide eyes scanned the room, feeling his heart jump within his chest at the sudden screaming. His face heated up, brow furrowing as he tried not to cry at how happy he felt to be surrounded by his friends and family. After hugging his parents and grandparents, he headed straight for the two of you.

You jumped off the chair, throwing your arms around his waist. “Happy birthday, Tetsu!”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he pecked your cheek before smiling at Kenma.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Kenma. Come on, it’s time for cake!”

“Aren’t we supposed to eat the food first?” Kenma’s brow furrowed as the older boy tugged him toward the table.

“That’s no fun!” Kuroo grinned in reply, watching his mother lighting the candles.

“Make a wish, darling,” she spoke softly, resting her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, closing his eyes. He could feel the warmth of you on his right and the warmth of Kenma on his left and he couldn’t help smiling. He knew exactly what he wanted to wish for. ‘I hope we stay best friends forever, even when we’re old and wrinkly.’

Sucking in a breath, he blew as hard as he could, extinguishing the flames in one go. Everyone cheered him on before his mother handed him a knife to cut the cake with and he cut a large slice, sliding it onto the plate she offered him. He then stepped backward, holding the plate between the three of you.

His mother handed the three of you a fork each and, together, you took a bite of the delicious cake his mother had made. The rest of the afternoon was spent with the two of you, though he didn’t ignore his other guests, he just forced you both to follow him as he thanked them for coming and caught up with them.

After opening his presents, minus the ones that you and Kenma had gotten him, and saying goodbye to the group, he asked his mother if the two of you could spend the night. She forced you both to contact your parents who gave the okay and the three of you headed up to his room, the presents tucked under his arm.

Kuroo plopped onto his bed, setting the two boxes in front of him before tapping his chin. “Which one should I open first?”

Feeling a bit nervous about your gift, you decided to put Kenma in the spotlight first. “Open Ken’s!”

Kuroo snapped his fingers, giving you a grin. “Okay~ I’ll open yours first, then, Y/N.”

You pouted as you crawled onto the bed, settling down across from him. “Cheater~!”

He snickered, tugging at the ribbon that you had tied around the box. Your heart raced as he tugged off the lid, pushing aside the tissue paper before pulling out the necklace inside. The chain was a thin black rope, holding a black cat with golden eyes. Held between its tail and its back was an amber gem in the shape of a volleyball.

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling the tips of your ears heating up. “It’s, umm… it’s not much but I saw it and thought of you…”

Kuroo’s expression softened as he unclipped it before placing it around his neck. It hung down just beneath his collar bone, settled in the center of his chest, the metal cold against his skin. He smiled softly as his fingers brushed over the pendant. “I love it, thank you so much, Y/N.”

Pride swelled within you and you nodded cheerfully. “You’re welcome!”

“Okay, your turn, Kenma!” Kuroo grinned, grabbing the larger box and pulling the lid from it. “No way! You got me a Mikasa volleyball!”

Kenma nodded, scratching at his cheek. “You said they were your favorite…”

“Aww, you remembered.”

“You said it every single day for the past two months…”

Kuroo ignored that comment, reaching for his laptop. “How about we spend the rest of the night watching movies?”

“Ooo, can we watch horror?” you questioned, eyes gleaming.

Kenma’s nose wrinkled at you. “I vote for anime.”

“Horror anime?”

“Shounen.”

“Eh~ that’s no fun,” you pouted.

Kuroo laughed loudly, sounding more like a hyena than a teenage boy. “We can watch both!”

You stifled a yawn as you stepped out of your house, finding Kuroo and Kenma waiting outside for you, just as they did every morning. Your mood instantly brightened upon seeing them and the tiredness you were feeling seemed to melt away. With a smile, you ran over to them, throwing your arms around their bodies.

“Morning, guys!”

“Good morning, darling!” Kuroo pecked your cheek before ruffling your hair, laughing when you swatted at his hand.

“Morning,” Kenma glanced up at you before turning his gaze back to the gaming console in his hands.

You threw your arm around his shoulder and Kuroo took up your other side, his hand slipping into yours. To outside parties, it may seem like you were dating one, or both, of them, but that’s because they didn’t understand the bond that the three of you shared. There was a strong love between you three that couldn’t be expressed with words and that was fine.

From the very beginning, you didn’t need words to enjoy one another’s company or to express how deeply you cared for each other.  You smiled happily as you turned your gaze to the rising sun, tightening your grip on the two boys. Life just seemed so much brighter with these two by your side and they felt the exact same way.

━━━━━━༻⍚ 🏐 HaikWeek!! 2020 🏐 ⍚༺━━━━━━

» Next Day

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[hqolympia]

chicago’s very own 𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄 has been spotted on madison avenue driving a chevrolet corvette z06 , welcome ! your resemblance to 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒏 is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒅 birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 , but being 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆 might help you . i think being a 𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 explains that .  3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 ,  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . 

hi ,  peachy !  my  name’s  char  &  that  smile  of  yours  is  making  my  heart  melt !  🥺 allow  me  to  introduce  u  to  my  fren  over  here !

full name :  olympia  giselle  hargrove

nickname :  oly ,  pia  (tho, the latter one is reserved for her grandmother)

date of birth :  may  22nd , 1997  (23) 

birth place :  chicago , il

sexual orientation : pansexual

occupation :  competitive diver

labels :  the  crimson  /  the  icarian

𝐢.  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

one :  picture a little girl with bright blue eyes, pigtails bouncing with every step she takes as a grin makes its way upon her face . she seems happy ---- and in the moment she truly is, despite the fact that the people she needs the most, her parents, are a few thousand miles away and aren’t here to see olympia say her first words or take her first step. she is too young to understand --- honestly, too young to even think about the reasons why they left her.

two :  she is a little bit older now, a full-on eleven years old --- taller, thinner and, most importantly, rowdier. she has quite a few friends, although they all seem to be having picnics with their barbie dolls and sleepovers dedicated to watching princess movies whereas olympia wants to run around and jump all over the place. the girls just don’t seem to match her energy, the boys aren’t exactly welcoming towards her, having this stupid, “ew, but you’re a girl!” mindset. she just wants to find something for herself, something that will keep her interested for longer than three hours ---- that something turned out to be diving.

three :  it’s a few years later, and now she’s standing at the 10m platform. it’s her last dive, and she needs to get it exactly right to win the gold medal. olympia would honestly be lying if she said her legs weren’t shaking because of how nervous she was --- but there’s a camera right in front of her face, therefore she has to keep it together. she turns around, takes one last breath, and then she’s up in the air. fifteen seconds later she’s fully submerged into water ----- and fifteen minutes later she has tears coming out of her eyes. she did it. she’s the world champion now.

four : it’s exactly a year later, and a lot has changed. olympia finds herself in the sunny city of rio de janeiro where she’s come to compete in her first olympic games --- which is exactly what she’s always been meant to do, judging by the name her parents gave her. except this time she’s nervous for an entirely different reason --- she’s now a successful athlete, this season’s leader and the one to watch out for. she’s the reigning world champion, for god’s sake, so she has to prove every single person out there she didn’t win on an accident. a lot of things seem to be going wrong; from oly flubbing her first dive to her coach coming up to her before her final one to say that her parents have showed up at the arena. eventually she finds herself in the same exact position as she did back in Russia ---- her palms are sweating, her legs are shaking, but there’s no turning back. the only way is down, so she has to dive one way or another. a jump, two somersaults, a twist ----- she’s back in the pool, and as she immediately drowns in the roar coming from the audience, tears start coming out of her eyes. she did it again. she’s lived up to her name.

five :  ever since she got back home, her life has completely changed. interview after interview, a campaign after a photoshoot, an event after the other ---- all of that mixed in with her training routine has it ups and downs. her schedule keeps her busy yet there’s something missing. she’s looking everywhere in the hopes of finding that missing piece, and at some point she feels like she’s found it in the face of a stranger who ends up in her bed that night. it brings her a sense of serenity, that lasts a few weeks ---- but olympia knows it’s all too good to be true, and it’s proven to be that way as she stumbles upon a certain page on a random night. it doesn’t seem real at first, but when she spots a tattoo on the girl’s ribcage, a realization hits her ---- she’s plastered all over porn sites, and that particular video featuring her has generated a few million views in a span of two months. she doesn’t remember the night at first due to her drunken state, but she recognizes her bedroom, particularly a personalized louis vuitton gym bag sitting in the corner. details like that help her piece the night together, and from that point on there’s nothing but fear of it all coming out and ruining her career.

𝐢𝐢.  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀

basically ! this intro is all over the place so here are some bullet points to get u up to speed !

oly was born in chicago but grew up and spent most of her time in toronto with her grandmother, since her parents were setting up their business overseas. they were coming by to visit her maybe once or twice a year, so she isn’t as close with them.

she is a competitive diver (a quite decorated one bc .... why wouldn’t she be 🥺🥺🥺)  representing canada bc of her upbringing despite the fact that she now lives in new york (she moved here in 2017, after the rio olympics)

astrology wise, she is a gemini sun cancer rising .... so sorry to all of u for this

her placements mean that she is quite creative, capricious and may appear manic sometimes --- but really she is just downright STUPID bc she is always trying to get her ass into trouble. like, you can’t even imagine how many times her coach had to drag her out of the mess she got herself into ... 

she is very much about having sympathy for others and helping them and whatnot, but unbeknownst to her, these tendencies can be explained by the “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” mindset. she has to keep her act straight, so getting onto someone’s bad side isn’t in the cards for her --- god knows what kind of shit she may end up in now that she’s a part of ... this world of glamour and fame, u kno?

olympia also really loves to talk, preach, argue --- just do whatever to be heard

in her free time (the time when she doesn’t feel like wreaking havoc tbh) she usually cooks deserts (vegan banana pudding? blackberry sorbet? key lime cheesecake? u want it, u got it!), reads books (painted veil by somerset is her ultimate FAV) and ... drives around town whilst listening to some cheesy music 🥺 

other than that her usual routine consists of training, clubbing and messing shit up due to the chaotic stupid personality !

𝐢𝐢𝐢.  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

i promise this intro won’t be that long ... after this ! 🤠🤠🤠these are just the few ideas i can get off the top of my head so ... there’s always room for brainstorming ! :-)

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐃 / close friends --- everybody needs some sort of a support system in their life, and oly is no exception to this rule. she’s never really had a big family, therefore she’s always surrounded herself with people in the hopes of filling the empty space in her heart. and honestly, if it wasn’t for these people, she would’ve quit diving right after winning the olympics, moved to the suburbs of toronto and just lived a quiet life --- but the pride for her friends just gives her enough motivation to move further and become better.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 / best friend --- we all have that someone who’s impossibly close to us; who we cannot imagine our lives without. the bond is so crucial to them both parties that it feels as if there’s never been a moment without each other. the general public and tabloids, though, feel as if there’s more going on and will not stop nagging them about the details.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 / friends drifted apart / exes --- as weird as it is, oly is very much a yolo person. in addition to that, she has a ton of love and devotion for every single person she’s ever had in her life no matter what happened between them or what caused them to drift apart. though, her ever-changing nature is known to drive people away which, tbh, happens to be a blessing and a curse -- it helps oly sort of “filter” through her circle of friends, but then again, if someone enters her life, they leave and undeniable impact on it. therefore, she misses whoever left her life more than they could ever imagine.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / rival (?) --- olympia isn’t perfect in any way, shape or form. she knows that, but most importantly, the public knows that and will not stop critiquing every little thing that she does. this person, though, is the exact opposite - the public LOVES them to the point where even olympia’s parents would probably say things like “ugh, i wish you could be more like that!”. this makes the relationship between the two quite ... strained. because as much as olympia may love them as a person, there’s always this lingering sense of jealousy that just enables her petty side.

𝐢𝐯. 𝐎𝐎𝐂

ok so ! if you’ve reached this part of my intro ... i cannot thank u enough bc this ?? this is long as HECK but i wanted to actually try and describe the kind of muse i envision in my head. i love u all a latte & if u feel like plotting w/ my dumb kid, leave a like on this post or feel free to mssg me on discord under futurenostalgias#1692 🤠sidenote tho: i’ll probably get to the mssgs in a few hours seeing as i have a few assignments to complete and i’m sorta braindead ... love u , cannot wait to write w/ u ! xoxo ur friendly neighborhood trash char  

[jomeyers83]

As an employer, you must be very often overhearing conversations of your employees about their nearing empty bank accounts at the end of a month and their problems related to handling their finances. A lot of them must be struggling to keep up with their expenses and eventually must be thinking that they could have taken a different approach. Well, one of the hardest steps is also one of the easiest steps when it comes to saving money.

If your employees want to save money, the first step is getting serious about it and getting started. There are several save money tips that can be incorporated. This will allow them to get into a habit of saving money regularly and not getting caught in the spending trap. And savings will never go in vain; money saved today will be helpful in the future or during any unprecedented situation.

Top 23 way to help employees save money in 2020

You can suggest some ideas to save money to your employees that will help them to take the first step in the right direction and slowly build on it. All of the save money tips and tricks suggested by you may not be applicable for all of your employees but some of them if implemented can bring a positive change gradually.

Here are different ways to help employees save money:

1. Open a savings account

This is a rather simple and conventional technique which you can suggest for your employees. There are several banks out there that offer great interest rates on different products and savings accounts as well. It might be a good idea to quickly scan the different banks that offer better rates than the current bank. If your employees believe in having cash in their bank accounts, this move can help them earn a bit more in the form of better interest rates.

Expert Tip: To save money in India, a lot of newer banks are offering much higher interest rates than the existing banks.

2. Prepare a budget

This is probably one of the most commonly advised techniques by an employer for his employees to save money. Setting aside a budget for monthly expenses will help your employees to curb unnecessary spending and get into the habit of saving regularly.

One of the most classic breakdowns to save money is 50/30/20. According to this technique, they can use 50% of their income for necessities, the next 30% for some needs that they might have and utilize the remaining 20% as savings.

Expert Tip: The smartest way to “save” the 20% is to first save the money and then use the remaining 80% for the expenses, instead of the other way around.

3. Set financial goals and milestones

If serious about saving money, to save money expert advice would be to set saving goals. Setting goals is usually a good idea; where your employees can feel that they have accomplished something post each milestone. The idea of a short term or midterm goal and working towards achieving these goals can be helpful in the long run.

A short-term goal can be a trip to a new place, down payment for car, accumulating emergency funds, etc. And midterm to loan term goals can be down payment for a house, children’s education, etc.

Expert Tip: Setting goals help in keeping a track of the accomplishments and also helps in planning strategies for achieving future goals.

Also read: What are goal based savings ?

4. Setting up of priorities

A penny saved is a penny earned. This is one of the more famous save money quotes. If your employees have budgeted their monthly expenditure, it is important to prioritize their savings. Some goals might need a higher allocation of funds, while others might not. Depending on the priority of the same, they can assign a specific amount or percentage every month.

Expert Tip: Prioritizing expenses and spending accordingly is a basic step towards saving money.

5. Shop around for Insurance

When your employees are looking for some save money plans, they must shop around or compare insurance policies on insurance aggregator’s before buying them. They should do a thorough research before purchasing an insurance policy. This will help them to save on premiums considerably without missing out on any benefits offered by the insurance plan.

Expert Tip: Insurance policies should be bought online as online purchase is convenient and even less expensive due to no commissions and brokerage.

Koppr helps you get the right corporate insurance for your business.

6. Utilize tools

There are a lot of financial instruments available which can help people in meeting their goals and in saving money as well. However, you might advise your employees to put in some effort and find out which instrument works out the best for them. There are a lot of online tools and mobile apps available that can help them to do the same.

A few of the instruments will help them in their money grow without any risks, while others will help it grow at a faster rate. You can also suggest them to opt for tax-saving schemes.

Expert Tip: Financial instruments can enhance the initiatives for saving money and should be used more promptly by individuals.

7. Automated systems

The presence of several automated systems means that there is no longer a need to worry about each and everything. Automated deductions from your bank account towards saving schemes can be set up and this can help in saving money without forgetting about it. As soon as the salary is credited, the automated system would deduct the amount.

Expert Tip: By the automated system, saving money is guaranteed in every month without a fail.

8. Review financial goals

While it is important to set financial goals to help people save money, reviewing them regularly is equally important. Reviewing goals and contributions regularly will help your employees to be on top of it. If there are circumstances in which the expenditure appears to be more rather than savings then the financial goals can be modified and initiatives can be taken for increasing savings.

Expert Tip: Review of financial goals help in analyzing if any changes need to be implemented in the save money ideas or strategies.

Share this beginners guide to financial planning with your employees.

Other personal saving strategies that your employees can adopt include:

9. Create a shopping list before shopping and stick to it

You can advise your employees to create a shopping list before they head out for shopping. This will help them in avoiding impulsive purchases.

Expert Tip: Your employees can take advantage of cashback reward cards which helps in providing bonus cash at the grocery stores.

10. Avoid overspending for kid’s entertainment

Spending of quality time with kids is much more important and beneficial than overspending on their entertainment. It is quite obvious that we all work and earn for our kids and their comfort, but time spent with kids would be worthier than spending money unnecessarily. You can give ideas to your employees for kid’s entertainment by some creative methods which will make the kids innovative and also entertain them. This will help in avoiding unnecessary expenditure and also strengthen their family bond.

Expert Tip: You can advise your employees for making their kids play outdoor games like cricket, football, hide and seek, etc. They can also take them for walks in the evening or encourage them to garden.

11. Save electricity

Saving electricity is one of the major responsibilities of every citizen. Unnecessary use of electricity and electrical appliances should be avoided. The electrical appliances like fans and lights should be switched off whenever not in use.

Moreover, you can give save money ideas to your employees by suggesting them to regularly clean up the electrical appliances. This will help in the efficient functioning of the appliances and save the expenditure on electricity bills as well.

Expert Tip: Installation of LEDs and CFLs wherever possible is a good step for saving electricity.

12. Restriction on online shopping

This is a very common habit with the millennial. Some of them do online shopping for fun and some do it as a stress buster. You can advise your employees to restrict the habit of online shopping.

Even though online shopping has its own set of advantages like convenience, numerous choices, lucrative offers, etc. but the habit of online shopping can dent a big hole in their pocket and this would be harmful.

Expert Tip: Reading books, painting, listening to music, etc. can be practiced as stress buster rather than opting for online shopping.

13. Air filter of car

One of the better save money ideas is to keep the air filter of car clean. Doing so on a regular basis can help your employees in saving money. A clean air filter can improve the mileage of a car by as much as 7%. If they drive around a lot, it can result in considerable savings.

Expert Tip: Air filters are available at affordable prices and changing it regularly should be preferred rather than using a dirty one.

14. Regular maintenance of devices

Most of the mechanical and electrical devices require regular maintenance. Regular maintenance and cleaning of devices should be taken care of. Simple stuff such as clearing off the dust, providing ambient ventilation, cleaning of filters, etc. can be helpful.

Regular maintenance would ensure that the appliances do not breakdown, thereby helping in saving money.

Expert Tip: A maintenance run for all your devices at regular intervals should be included in your household budget.

15. Cancellation of memberships

We are already amidst the middle of subscription-based models for various products and services. If your employees have taken up certain memberships and are no longer using them, you can suggest them to cancel them. For example, some employees might be paying dues at a club which they might not be using even. These types of unnecessary memberships can be canceled and it can help in saving some money. Expert Tip: Even if memberships are canceled, they can be renewed later as per convenience. So, cancellation of membership should not be considered as a serious problem.

16. Opt for carpooling to workplace

This is an excellent option for saving money and fuel which your employees can follow. If two or more of them are staying nearby, then they can opt for carpooling to the workplace. This is economical as it will save money, reduces the pollution level in the atmosphere and also reduce the traffic on roads.

Expert Tip: Carpool is an excellent option to save the vehicle from regular wear and tear as well.

17. Purchase term life insurance policy

A life insurance policy is a must to ensure the financial security of our near and dear ones when we are not present with them. It is always advisable to start a life insurance policy at a younger age as it would cost a low premium. If your employees are planning for the purchase of a life insurance policy and also save some money; then you can suggest them for buying a term life insurance policy. This will provide maximum coverage at a low premium and hence is an excellent save money plan.

Expert Tip: Term life insurance policy should be purchased online after comparison by insurance aggregator.

18. Purchase of efficient cars

Buying a feature-loaded car or a car with a bigger engine might incite the decision of an individual. However, opting for a reliable and efficient car can help your employees save money. A reliable car would bring down regular maintenance expenses and an efficient car would help them in keeping the running costs down.

Expert Tip: Good research should be done before the purchase.

19. Affordable Locality for Housing

The rent of a house is one of the larger expenses that one must be incurring. For saving money, moving to a more affordable locality can be a good option. The expenses are mostly affected by the part or locality of the city in which one resides.

Expert Tip: Cutting down expenses related to housing and its rent contributes a big amount towards savings.

20. Keep your tires inflated

A lot of car owners usually do not pay enough attention to the pressure of their car tires. Keeping the tires of cars inflated to the recommended levels can help in saving money. To find out the recommended tire pressure, you can suggest your employees for reference to the car manual or look for the information on the driver’s side door.

Expert Tip: The car manual can be read and the pressure of the tires should be maintained accordingly.

21. Gardening

Creating and taking care of an own garden can help in relieving some stress while growing some organic food. A lot of resources are not needed to start gardening. While it might not meet all the vegetable requirements in the family, some common vegetables can be grown in a healthy way. This will act as a stress buster; can turn into a hobby and even lower grocery expenditure up to a certain extent.

Expert Tip: Kids in the house can also be encouraged to participate in gardening. This can be fun and a great learning experience for them as well.

22. Use of mobile applications

Given the ever-increasing internet penetration and growing smartphones, individuals can use both of them to save money. A save money app, as the name suggests can boost savings. There are a lot of such apps available.

While some provide information about the best deals available nearby, others help in providing tips to your employees about managing their money more efficiently. Installing one or more of these apps might consume some memory, but certainly will help your employees in saving money.

Expert Tip: Mobile based Applications are the best way to gather information on any happening related to any field.

Do read: Top personal finance management apps in India

23. Money box

You can suggest your employees about inculcating a good habit in their kids i.e. to give them a save money box. This will give them a sense of responsibility and build a habit of saving. A piggy bank acts as a perfect starting point for kids to start saving money.

Expert Tip: Money bank helps in inculcating the habit of saving in kid’s right from their childhood.

The above are some of the save money ideas that individuals can start implementing in their daily lives. As said earlier, all suggestions and save money tips given by you might not be suitable for all of your employees. They will have to pick and choose the ones that best suit their style of saving and the nature of saving. These are certainly not the only saving techniques or ideas that can be implemented. Even further research can help in providing many more save money ideas.

However, you can assure your employees not to worry as they have already taken their first step. The fact that they have given this matter a thought shows their seriousness towards saving money. For the next steps, they can assess the aforementioned tips to save money and pick the ones that they feel would work out for them. You should try and encourage them with this initiative by putting forward better ideas. With smaller and valuable steps taken and the review of goals at regular intervals, your employees can end up saving more money than ever.

[quirkykayleetam]

Coach Daniel Wei

Check the tag #High School AU if you want to see how our other Broken Pieces characters fair in this setting.  Beth seems to be the most overwhelmingly popular.  Many thanks to @stoic-whumpee and @burtlederp for their inspiration.  Apologies, I have a lot of feelings about public school gym classes and this got long.

Coach Daniel Wei’s gym class seemed normal for the first few weeks.  Or at least, it did for most students.  The only real difference was that he joined in with the class for 80% of their exercises and dressed out when they did.  He never asked anyone to do anything he wasn’t willing to do first.

The whispers began when people started talked to the Gym Abstainers, the folks in every class who refuse to change into anything other than skinny jeans, sit on the bleachers gossiping through class, and wear their Fs with a badge of pride.  For them, the first week was anything BUT normal when, instead of ignoring them or bellowing at them, Coach Wei approached them with a smile.

“Fantastic!  I’m glad we’ve got so many folks to work with this semester.”

The group of students exchanged awkward looks as he pulled out a list.

“I get that failing gym is kind of a tried and true thing.  If that’s what you really want, fine.  But I’d rather ask you, is there any sport or other physical activity you’ve ever wanted to learn more about?”

“How about kicking your ass?” a voice from the back said to a chorus of laughs.  Daniel grinned with them.

“I’ve got more martial arts certifications than you can count.  I’d be happy to teach you, but I would caution you NOT to make that your final exam.”

The group quieted and he turned back to the paper in his hand.

“This is a list of all the sports in season right now.  I’ve talked to the coaches and they’re looking for strategists.  That means going to all the games, learning the rules inside and out, and figuring out where the teams can improve using stop action reply, statistics, basically anything we can get from the VR club.  I’ll have laptops in here starting tomorrow for anyone who is willing to give it a shot.  Any takers?”

Slowly, the list got passed around.  He got back a lot of names plus a folded note with some scrawled initials reading: “Can you really teach me martial arts.  I don’t want to fight you, but I’m really into Mortal Kombat and think it might be cool.”  Daniel smiled.

The whispers increased two weeks later when Daniel showed up to class in full army fatigues.  Sure, most of the kids new he was ex-military, but he had never gone out of his way to SHOW it before.  He gathered everyone into the bleachers.

“As you know, up until now our units have been about basic physical exercises and team sports: stretches, push-ups, basketball, that kind of thing that I’m qualified to teach.  Today, I’d like to introduce a guest speaker and teacher, Ms. Angelica Turnfeld from the School of Performing Arts.  She is here to lead us in our unit on ballet.”

Daniel gestured and a beautiful woman with chestnut brown skin and pure point shoes burst into the room.  Even on the cheap gym floor she was grace incarnate and Daniel smiled at the few gasps he heard from the bleachers.  Angelica was a performer; she knew how to make an entrance.

“Uh, so what are we gonna do while the girls work on their twirly-twirls?” Trent said flatly.  He was the star of the football team and never let anyone forget it.  Daniel just smiled.

“Good question.  You’ll be with me, working on the male parts of the routine.  I can understand if you’re hesitant--ballet takes an incredible amount of stamina, dexterity, and upper-body strength--but I think you can handle it Trent and Ms. Turnfeld is here to help us out whenever we might need a hand.  Now,” he clapped his hands and music started playing from the back of the gymnasium.  “A demonstration!”

Daniel had to concentrate with every fiber of his being through the next five minutes.  Ballet was not his strong suit, but that was fine.  He was mostly there for the lifts and to make Angelica look as amazing as possible.  By the time the music ended, he could see most of the girls looking in wonder while some of the guys were contemplating the idea of holding a beautiful women in their arms and the rest were impressed or at least resigned.

By the time class ended, a few shy girls who had yet to excel in anything else, but took dance in their spare time, lead the class.  They left with a gaggle of cheerleaders asking about their footwork.  The football players’ jaws dropped as Angelica recounted her training schedule.  Someone from the bleachers who had yet to say anything asked Daniel if they could study Angelica’s dance group for their “coaching statistics grade thing.”  Daniel kissed Angelica’s hand and smiled.

---

Then came the breaking point: Final Exam Assignments.  Instead of judging all students by the same state standards that all the athletes passed with flying colors and everyone else dreaded with stones in their stomachs, Daniel handed out what they would each be tested on in one month’s time. 

 Austin, who had extreme asthma and would likely pass out if he was forced to run the traditional mile test, was assigned weight-training exercises and research on ways to improve health other than extensive cardio.  Brittany, who could cartwheel like nobody’s business but struggled with body image, was asked to do a back-hand-spring and research how many calories professional gymnasts ate every day.  A note at the bottom of her assignment said:  You need fuel to do beautiful things and what you do is beyond beautiful.

“What is this bullshit?” Trent demanded, waving his slip in Daniel’s face.  Daniel studied it.

“I believe it says that you’ll be graded on ballet, Mr. Johnson.  I’m not looking for you to choreograph your own routine, but you should be able to do the basic forms and maybe stretch for something more advanced.”

“And how am I supposed to learn this shit?”

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t call it ‘shit,’ but I’ll help you out.”

Daniel glanced over to where the cheerleaders were gathered, comparing assignments.

“Dana, would you mind helping Trent for a moment?”

She ran over, her brown ponytail bobbing with movement and for a moment Trent looked mildly pleased.

It didn’t last very long.

Less than ten minutes later, Dana and Trent got into a screaming match that Daniel pretended not to hear.  It ended with Dana stalking back to the bleachers to talk to her friends while Trent, naturally, headed to Daniel.

“Dana won’t help me.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.  I can get you some books from the school library tomorrow, but it really is easier to learn from someone who knows what they’re doing.”  Daniel shrugged.  “I guess you’ll just have to get by.”

Trent’s face turned white, then red, then a rather startling shade of magenta.

“Is...Isn’t she gonna get points off?  For like, not helping me, Coach?”

This time Daniel looked Trent straight in the eye.

“Do you remember our basketball unit?  When I asked you to help Austin with his free throws?  You said it would be unfair to grade you on how much be improved because his natural talent had nothing to do with you coaching him.  I thought I’d apply the same idea here.”

Trent looked away first.

“You’re welcome to try to find someone else to help you,” Daniel continued, “But knowing Dana, rumor would have spread by now that you did not treat her very well.”

Trent looked up.  The girls in the gym stared daggers back at him.  He gulped.

“Good luck, Mr. Johnson,” Daniel said, turning back to his paperwork.  “I would hate to see you get a rough grade in gym.”

After that, all Daniel had to do was watch Trent struggle and wait.  In two weeks, Kelsey, a freshman with a bit of a stutter, started correcting Trent on his forms.  He yelled at her.  She shrugged him off.  He tried her suggestions--which worked.  She looked at him until he couldn’t get the next step down and finally broke.

In three weeks, Trent himself ran up to the coach.

“Look, I get that I was being an asshole.  Can I go back to something that will really help me now?”

Daniel smiled at him.

“I just talked to your football coach, Mr. Johnson.  He says your footwork has improved immensely and he’s even more excited about your college prospects next year.  You’ve got another week and a half left.  Why don’t you see what else you can do?”

[katliners]

by kat, a rising highschool senior who’s been through this highschool stuff a few times

• use your damn locker. i don’t care how far away it is or if you “don’t need it”. save your back some stress and your bag some space. keep all of your heavy books and binders in your locker and then work out a schedule on when you can go to your locker and grab what you need.

• don’t buy supplies until you have the syllabus. i know it can be tempting to run out and buy all these cute supplies before school starts, but sometimes tecahers can be picky about the supplies you use, or sometimes they say you can share a binder/notebook with a different class. just wait until you find out what your teachers want. but obviously you can go buy the basics like pens, pencils, paper.

• take notes. and handwrite them. blah blah blah studies have shown that writing stuff down helps you retain information and i don’t know but it’s helped me. when i started taking textbook notes for ap euro my test grades went from 50s to 100s. oh and read the textbook/readings it might actually help you. if you need to type them you do you, just find a note taking method that helps you.

• make friends with your teachers. or at least be respectful. they’re more likely to be easier/more lenient with you if you’re nice.

• use a planner. it doesn’t have to be a nice, fancy one or a bullet journal, as long as you write down your homework assignments, upcoming tests, club meetings, etc. you’ll be good. it’s so crucial in highschool to stay organized and know whats going on.

• put specific tasks in your planner/on your to do list. don’t just write “read” or “write essay”. say “read chapters 1-4” or “write paragraph one of history essay” it gives you a specific goal to reach and you’ll feel like you accomplished more if you finished a specific goal over a general one.

• buy a nice, sturdy backpack. i know tote bags can be cute but you should really invest in a nice backpack with two straps to take the stress off your back. i bought an adidas one for like $30 and it’s so nice. the one i used last year was a $45 jansport marley backpack and yeah it was cute but it didn’t have any support in the straps and it was really small. a nice bag will save you.

• stop procrastinating!!!! i know this is so vague and basic but it’s so important in highschool. your gpa matters a lot in highschool and you cannot slack off, obviously everyone has days where you forget to do your homework but don’t make it a daily occurrence. this goes back to writing everything down!! don’t wait til the last minute to finish projects and essays, make a plan and do a little every day until the due date. also turning in half finished homework is better than turning nothing in at all, just try your best!

• learn how to be independent, you don’t need your friends with you at all times, but also ask if you need help, want someone to go with you somewhere. just know that it’s okay to walk around alone or take some time for yourself and eat lunch alone.

• join a club/sport/organization!! find something you’re interested in and join it!! you’ll make tons of friends and memories! plus you’ll be involved which is just really important in highschool, just don’t get too distracted from your academics.

• spirit week is fun but don’t feel obligated to join in and spend a lot of money on outfits. don’t feel pressured by your classmates, yes it can be fun but i understand if you don’t have the money/time/means to dress up everyday!

• always pack your school bag/lunch the night before. make sure you have all of your homework, books, and stationery for the next day. pack your lunch and maybe make your breakfast the night before so you don’t forget about it. also plan your outfit the night before so you don’t waste time in the morning.

• don’t feel the need to own a bunch of expensive stationery. yes, it’s nice, but you don’t need it to make good, helpful notes. all you need is a sheet of paper and a basic pen or pencil and you’re good to go. (but nice stationery does help with motivation so maybe treat urself to some muji pens or mildliners they’re the best for notetaking in my opinion)

• make group chats with people in your classes!! or discuss the work with your friends in those classes. my sophomore year we had an apush group chat where we discussed projects, shared homework answers (not copied, but shared and compared), and asked each other questions. it’s a lifesaver to have a group chat or at least a friend you can ask so if you’re absent they can fill you in on what happened and you can be a little more prepared. and it also helps if you’re confused because most of the time at least one person will understand.

• and most importantly, take care of yourself. take breaks when you need them and don’t overwork yourself. drink water, eat before school, take a nice lunch. just be nice to yourself and body and don’t stress yourself out too much.

okay this post has been in the works for like three months and i’m finally happy with it, feel free to leave your own tips!!! have fun this school year i believe in u!!!!