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samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

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Coping with religious trauma

CONTENT WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSIONS OF MENTAL ILLNESS, TRAUMA RECOVERY, AND HOMOPHOBIA. The advice in this post is intended for an adult audience, not for those who are legal minors.

A lot of people find their way to paganism after having traumatic experiences with organized religion, especially in countries like the United States, where 65% of the population identifies as Christian. (This number is actually at an all-time low — historically, the percentage has been much higher.) Paganism, which is necessarily less dogmatic and hierarchical than the Abrahamic religions, offers a chance to experience religion without having to fit a certain mold. This can be extremely liberating for people who have felt hurt, abused, or ignored by mainstream religion.

To avoid making generalizations that might offend people, I’ll share my own story as an example.

My family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, better known as the Mormons, when I was nine years old. The Mormons are an extremely conservative sect of evangelical Christianity that places a heavy emphasis on maintaining a strong community that upholds their religious values. The problem with that is that Mormon values are inherently racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic. As a teenager in the Mormon Church, I was told that as a woman, my only purpose in life was to marry a (Mormon) man and raise (Mormon) children. I was discouraged from pursuing a college education if it meant delaying marriage. I was not allowed to participate in the full extent of religious ritual because I was not a man. I was not allowed to express myself in ways that went against Mormon culture, and I kept my bisexuality secret for fear I would be ostracized. I didn’t have any sort of support system outside the Church, which inevitably made the mental health issues that come with being a queer woman in a conservative Christian setting much, much worse.

I left the Mormons when I was seventeen, and by that time I had some major issues stemming from my time in the Church. I had been extremely depressed and anxious for most of my teen years. I struggled with internalized misogyny and homophobia. I had very low self-esteem. I had anxiety around sex and sexuality that would take years of therapy and self-work to overcome. I wanted to form a connection with the divine, but I wasn’t sure if I was worthy of such a connection.

I was attracted to paganism, specifically Wicca, because it seemed like everything Mormonism wasn’t. Wicca teaches equality between men and women, with a heavy focus on the Goddess in worship. It places an emphasis on doing what is right for you, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else. It encourages sexuality and healthy sexual expression. Learning about Wicca, and later other types of paganism, helped me develop the kind of healthy spirituality I’d never experienced as a Mormon. Although Wicca is no longer the backbone of my religious practice, it was a necessary and deeply healing step on my spiritual journey.

I’m not sharing my story to gain sympathy or to make anyone feel bad — I’m sharing it because my situation is not an uncommon one in pagan circles. The vast majority of pagans are converts, meaning they didn’t grow up pagan. Some had healthy upbringings in other faiths, or no faith at all, and simply found that paganism was a better fit for them. Others, like myself, had deeply traumatic experiences with organized religion and are attracted to paganism because of the freedom, autonomy, and empowerment it offers.

If you fall into this latter category, this post is for you. Untangling the threads of religious trauma can be an extremely difficult and overwhelming task. In this post, I lay out six steps to recovery based on my own experiences and those of other people, both pagan and non-pagan, who have lived through religious trauma.

While following these steps will help jumpstart your spiritual healing, it’s important to remember that healing is not a linear process — especially healing from emotional, mental, and spiritual trauma. You may have relapses, you may feel like you’re moving in circles, and you may still have bad days in five or ten years. That’s okay. That’s part of the healing process. Go easy on yourself, and let your journey unfold naturally.

Step One: Cut all ties with the group that caused your trauma

Or, at least, cut as many ties as reasonably possible.

Obviously, if you’re still participating in a religious organization that has caused you pain, the first step is to leave! But before you do, make sure you have an exit plan to help you disengage safely and gracefully.

To make your exit plan, start by asking yourself what the best, worst, and most likely case scenarios are, and be honest in your answers. Obviously, the best case scenario is that you leave, everyone accepts it, and all is well. The worst case scenario is that someone tries to prevent you from leaving — you may be harassed by missionaries or concerned churchgoers, for example. But what is the most likely case scenario? That depends on the religious community, their beliefs, and how involved you were in the first place. When making your exit plan, prepare for the most likely scenario, but have a backup plan in case the worst case scenario happens.

Once you’ve prepared yourself for the best, worst, and most likely outcomes, choose a friend, significant other, or family member who can help you make your exit. Ideally, this person is not a member of the group you are trying to leave. Their role is mainly to provide emotional support, although they may also need to be willing to run off any well-meaning missionaries who come calling. This person can also help you transition after you leave. For example, you might make a plan to get coffee with them every week during the time your old religious community holds worship services.

Finally, make your strategy for leaving. Choose a date and don’t put it off! If you have any responsibilities within the group, send in a letter of resignation. Figure out who you’ll need to have conversations with about your leaving — this will likely include any family members or close friends who are still part of the group. Schedule those conversations. Make sure to have them in public places, where people will be less likely to make a scene.

If you feel it is necessary, you may want to request that your name be removed from the group’s membership records so you don’t get emails, phone calls, or friendly visits from them in the future. You may not feel the need to do this, but if contact with the group triggers a mental health crisis, this extra step will help keep you safe.

Of course, it’s not always possible to completely cut ties with a group after leaving. You may have family members, a significant other, or close friends who are still members. If this is the case, you’ll need to establish some clear boundaries. Politely but firmly tell them that, although you’re glad their faith adds value to their lives, you are not willing to be involved in their religious activities. Let them know that this is what is best for your mental and emotional health and that you still value your relationship with them.

Try to make compromises that allow you to preserve the relationship without exposing you to a traumatic religious environment. For example, if your family is Christian and always spends all day on Christmas at church, offer to celebrate with them the day after, once their religious commitments are over.

Hopefully, your loved ones can respect these boundaries. If not, you may need to distance yourself or walk away altogether. If they are knowingly undermining your attempts to take care of yourself, they don’t deserve to be in your life.

During this time, you may find it helpful to read other people’s exit stories online or in books. One of my personal favorites is the book Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther. Hearing other people’s stories can help you remember that other people have been through similar situations and made it out on the other side. You will too.

Step Two: Seek professional help

I cannot overstate the importance of professional counseling when dealing with trauma of any kind, including religious trauma. Therapists and counselors have the benefit of professional training. They are able to be objective, since they’re approaching the situation from the outside. They can keep you from getting bogged down in your own thoughts and feelings.

I understand that not everyone has access to therapy. I am very lucky to have insurance that covers mental health counseling, but I know not everyone has that privilege. However, there are some options that make therapy more affordable.

There may be an organization in your area that offers free or low-cost therapy — if you live in the U.S., you can find information about these services by checking the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) HelpLine or visiting mentalhealth.gov. You can also look for therapists who use a sliding scale for payment, which means they determine an hourly rate based on the client’s income. And finally, if you have a little bit of extra cash you may want to look into therapy apps like BetterHelp or Talkspace, which are typically cheaper than in-person therapy.

If none of those options work for you, the next best option is to join a support group. Support groups allow you to connect with other people whose experiences are similar to yours and, unlike therapy, they allow you to get advice and feedback from multiple people. These groups are often free, although some charge a small fee.

Finding the right group for you is important. You’re unlikely to find a group for people recovering from religious trauma but, depending on the nature of your trauma, you may fit right in with a grief and loss group, an addiction recovery group, or a group for adult survivors of child abuse. If you’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community, you may be able to find a queer support group. (The LGBTQ+ club at my college was an invaluable resource in my recovery!) Depending on your area, you may also be able to find groups for specific mental and emotional issues like depression or anxiety.

Make sure to do your research before attending a meeting. Find out what, if anything, the group charges, who can join, and whether they use a curriculum or have unstructured sessions. See if you can find a statement about their values and philosophy. Make a note of where meetings are held and of who is running the group. Some support groups meet in churches and may or may not have a religious element to their curriculum. It’s best to avoid religious groups — the last thing you need right now is to be preached to.

Getting other people involved in your recovery will make you feel less alone and prevent you from getting stuck in your own head. A good therapist, counselor, or support group can help you realize what you need to work on and give you ideas for how to approach it.

Step Three: Deprogramming

“Deprogramming” refers to the practice of undoing brainwashing and reintroducing healthy thought patterns. This term is normally used in the context of cult survivors and their recovery, but deprogramming techniques can also be helpful for people recovering from a lifetime of toxic religious rhetoric.

To begin the process of deprogramming, familiarize yourself with the way organizations use thought control to shape the behavior of their members. I recommend starting with the work of Steven Hassan — his BITE model is a handy way to classify types of thought control.

The BITE model lays out four types of control. There’s Behavior Control, which controls what members do and how they spend their free time. (For example, requiring members to attend multiple hours-long meetings each week.) There’s Information Control, which restricts members’ access to information. (For example, denying certain aspects of the group’s history.) There’s Thought Control, which shapes the way members think. (For example, classifying certain thoughts as sinful or dirty.) And finally there’s Emotional Control, which manipulates members’ emotions. (For example, instilling fear of damnation or punishment.)

Here’s a simple exercise to get you started with your deprogramming. Divide a blank sheet of paper into four equal sections. Label one section “Behavior,” one “Information,” one “Thought,” and one “Emotions.” Now, in each section, make a list of the ways your old religious group controlled — and maybe still controls — that area of your life. Once you’ve completed your lists, choose a single item from one of your lists to work on undoing.

For example, let’s say that in your “Information” column, you’ve written that you were discouraged from reading certain books because they contained “evil” ideas. (For a lot of people, this was Harry Potter. For me, it was The Golden Compass.) Pick up one of those books, and read it or listen to it as an audiobook. Once you’ve read it, write down your thoughts. Did you enjoy it? Why or why not? Why do you think your group banned it? What was in this book that they didn’t want you to know about? Write it down.

Once you’ve worked on the first thing, choose something else. Keep going until you’ve undone all the items on your lists.

If you want to go further with deprogramming, I recommend the book Recovering Agency by Luna Lindsey. Although this book is specifically written for former Mormons, I genuinely believe it would be helpful to former members of other controlling religious groups as well. Lindsey does an excellent job of explaining how thought control works and of connecting it to real world examples, as well as deconstructing those ideas. Her book has been a huge help in my recovery process, and I highly recommend it.

Step Four: Replace toxic beliefs and practices with healthy ones

This goes hand-in-hand with step three, and if you’re already working on deprogramming then you’ll already have started replacing your unhealthy beliefs. This is the turning point in the recovery process. You’re no longer just undoing what others have done to you — now you get an opportunity to decide what you want to believe and do going forward. This is the time to let go of things like denial of your desires, fear of divine punishment, and holding yourself to unattainable standards. Get used to living in a way that makes you happy, without guilt.

Notice how each step builds on the previous steps. Therapy and deprogramming can help you identify what beliefs and behaviors need to be adjusted or replaced. Your therapist, support group, and/or emotional support person can help you make these changes and follow through on them.

These new beliefs and practices don’t have to be religious — in fact, it’s better if they aren’t. If you can live a healthy, happy, balanced life without religion, you’ll be in a better position to choose a religion that is the right fit for you, if that is something you want.

Your new healthy, non-religious practices may include: mindfulness meditation, nature walks, journaling, reading, exercise, energy work, learning a hobby or craft, or spending time with loves ones — or it might include none of these things, and that’s okay too. Now is the time to find what brings you joy and start doing it every day.

Step Five: Ritual healing

This is an optional step, but it’s one that has been deeply healing for me. You may find it helpful to design and perform a ritual to mark your recovery.

Note that when I say “ritual,” I don’t necessarily mean magic. Rituals serve a psychological purpose as well as a spiritual one. They can act as powerful symbolic events that mark a turning point in our lives or reinforce what we already know and believe. Even if you don’t believe in magic, even if you’re the least spiritual person you know, you can still benefit from ritual.

You might choose to perform a ritual to finalize your healing, or to symbolically throw off the chains of your old religion. It can be elaborate or simple, long or short, joyful or solemn. It might include lighting a candle and saying a few words. It might include ecstatic dance. It might include drawing or painting a representation of all the negative emotions associated with your old religion, then ritually destroying it. The possibilities are literally endless. (If you’re looking for ritual ideas, I recommend the book Light Magic for Dark Times by Lisa Marie Basile.)

One type of ritual that some people find very empowering is unbaptism. An unbaptism is exactly what it sounds like — the opposite of a baptism. The idea is that, if a baptism makes a Christian, an unbaptism makes someone un-Christian, no longer part of that lineage. It is a ritual rejection of Christianity. (Obviously, this only applies if you’re a former Christian, though some of the following suggestions could be adjusted to fit a rejection of other religions.)

If you’re interested in unbaptism, here are some ideas for how it could be done:

A classic method of unbaptism is to recite the Lord’s Prayer backwards under a full moon. (For a non-Christians version, use a significant prayer from whatever religion you have left.)

Run a bath. Add a tiny pinch of sulfur (a.k.a. brimstone) to the water. Get into the bath and say, “By water I was baptized, and by water my baptism is rejected.” Submerge your entire body under the water for several seconds. When you come back up, your unbaptism is complete. (You may want to shower after this one. Sulfur does not smell good.)

The Detroit Satanic Temple has a delightfully dramatic unbaptism ritual. For a DIY version, you will need holy water or some other relic from the faith you were baptized in, a fireproof dish, a black candle, and an apple or other sweet fruit. Light the candle and place it in your fireproof dish. Toss some holy water onto the flame (not enough to extinguish it) and say, “I cast my chains into the dust of hell.” Take a bite of the apple and say, “I savor the fruit of knowledge and disobedience.” Finally, declare proudly, “I am unbaptized.” You can add “in the name of Satan” at the end or leave it out, depending on your comfort level.

Personally, I’ve never felt the need to unbaptize myself. I’ve ritually rejected my Mormon upbringing in other ways. Maybe someday I’ll decide to go for the unbaptism, but I’ve never really felt like I needed it. Likewise, you’ll need to decide for yourself what ritual(s) will work for you.

Step Six: Honor your recovery

Our first reaction to trauma is to hide it away and never speak of it again. When we do this, we do ourselves a disservice. Your recovery is a part of your life story. You had the strength to walk away from a situation that was hurting you, and that deserves to be celebrated! Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come!

You may choose to honor your recovery by celebrating an important date every year, like the day you decided to leave the group, the date of the last meeting you attended, or the date you were removed from the membership records. Keep this celebration fun and light — get drinks with friends, bake a cake for yourself, or just take a few moments to silently acknowledge your journey.

If you feel like having a party is a bit much, you can also honor your recovery by talking to other people about your experiences. Share your story with others. If you’re feeling shy, try sharing your story anonymously online. (Reddit has several forums specifically for anonymous stories.) You’ll be amazed by how validating it can be to tell people what you’ve been through. `

Another way to honor your recovery is to work for personal and religious freedom for all people. Protest laws with religious motivations. Donate to organizations that campaign for the separation of church and state. Educate people about how to recognize an unhealthy religious organization. Let your own story motivate you to help others who are in similar situations.

And most of all, take joy in your journey. Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come, but know that your recovery is a lifelong journey. Be gentle and understanding with yourself. You are doing what is right for you, and no god or spirit worthy of worship could ever be upset by that.

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harryspet · 5 years ago

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dark peter parker x innocent naive reader (or ofc it doesn’t matter) non-con fic?

CAMP KISSLESS | peter parker

[WARNINGS] dark peter parker x reader (Y/N), virgin reader, noncon sex, outdoor/car sex (public?), peter isn’t very friendly neighborhood spidery in this

A/N: I’ve wanted to do a camp au for a little while so that’s why I chose this setting! This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. Read at your own risk.

In which your the new camp counselor and you’re excited to start your job but Peter has other plans for your summer.

word count: 2.7k

It was gonna be a great summer.

It wasn’t your first summer at Camp. No, your parents drove you to upstate New York every summer since you were eight and you stayed at Camp Moonfall for three weeks out of the summer. You always made the best memories there but, now that you were older, you were saving up for college next semester. Now that you were eighteen, you felt responsible enough to get a job and of course, Peter put in a good word for you.

You remembered the summer before, all the counselors had let you join them around the fire since you were older. That’s when the game of never have I ever happened and that’s when you changed the way you looked at Peter. You always thought he was cute but with him smiling around all his friends, the firelight illuminating his skin, you developed a small crush. He was a year older than you and you remembered saying how you were going to miss him during your Senior Year.

He smiled at you, of course, and your heart fluttered.

It was in that game that everyone learned your secret about how you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet. They looked at you, shocked, and you would’ve preferred if they had just teased you rather than pitied you. You didn’t care that you hadn’t had your first kiss because you were waiting for magic. You wanted to settle for nothing less.

“So who’s first on your list?” Peter had asked you and you raised an eyebrow. He turned his marshmallow over the fire, letting it brown, “Your kiss list? Who’s your dream first kiss?”

“Thor, I think,” You joke to Peter and he only rolled his eyes.

“Haha, Y/N,” He spoke sarcastically, “But I’m serious, who’s number one?” For a moment, looking in his eyes, you could’ve sworn he wanted you to say him.

“I don’t have one,” You slouched back in your chair, “Whoever it is, I want them to be the one I marry.”

All of their eyes turned to you, even Peter as if you had said something offensive, “What?” you asked.

“You should save it for as long as you can, Y/N?” MJ said across from you, easing the tension, “High school boys are Satan's spawn. And I hear college boys aren’t far off.”

For the first day of camp, your outfit consisted of a tie-dyed t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. You had dreamed of carrying the clipboard you now possessed. Along with the wooden whistle around your neck, you felt complete.

MJ pointed at a gray minivan parked in a long line of cars where parents were unpacking their kids, “Y/N, can you check them in?” You immediately nodded

She remembered her training, all eight hours of it, and took a deep breath as she approached the family. The Dad was lugging things out of the trunk and the mom was rustling around with her triplets.

“Good morning, campers! I’m Y/N” You greeted them with a wide smile, hands tight around your clipboard. The kids didn’t seem to care much about you but you could get used to that, not every child was gonna fall in love with you, “Hope you all are excited for the best three weeks of your year. Can I get the last name?”

“We’re the Nelson’s,” The woman muttered, clearly not excited to hear your chipper voice this early in the morning. She pointed to each child and named them off.

You looked down the long list of names and easily found the three Nelson’s. You took a look at each boy, knowing you’d have to remember all of them, “There, found ya! Are these all of their things?”

The father nodded, three suitcases and several pool noodles on the ground, “You got a bellhop, Betty?” He spoke, clearly not bothered to know your name.

You looked down, still trying to smile wide as you crossed off the names, “Uhm, if you carry your things over there, someone will be there to carry their things to their cabin. Someone will also be there to take the boys down by the lake and they can join in the welcome festivities. You guys can say goodbye there and that’s when your vacation begins, Mom and Dad.”

You expected a smile or a nod of approval but you got cold stares, “We want to make sure they get settled in and see where they will be living. You can’t expect us to say goodbye now.”

Your smile fell a little bit but you kept your composure, “Well, here at Camp Moonfall, we want to keep the goodbyes short. When you took the tour, you were able to see the campsite. It’s very safe. We just find it’s easier for kids to adjust without the big, emotional goodbyes. It helps the homesickness when you start the fun right away,” You thought your smile would somehow lift their spirits but it only crushed yours.

“Could you stop smiling like an idiot? You’re an adult, aren’t you? They must be hiring the mentally incompetent here, Diane,” The father said to the mother.

Your heart sank and your lips parted to say something but the words didn’t leave, “I’m going to that cabin, sweetheart. Do you know what it’s like to give birth to triplets? I spent nine months with these kids and you aren’t gonna rip them away from me. I was in labor for twenty hours!”

“I-I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just telling you the camp policy. We just find that it works best-”

The dad interrupted, mimicking your voice, “We just find that it works best. God, Diane, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“My mother said this would be a good experience for them!” The Mom yelled back at the husband, she held her boys closer to her, “The boys are not staying here. It seems like there’s something in the water here anyways …” The woman scowled at you.

“I-I can g-get my supervisor-”

“And now she’s stuttering,” The father rolled his eyes, starting to grab their things and put them back in trouble, “Get in the car boys.”

How could your first time at this have gone so wrong? You clutched the clipboard to your chest, tears stinging your eyes.

A second later you felt a hand on your shoulder, “What’s going on, Y/N?” He looked at the family then back at you.

You just shook your head. He could tell you were about to start bawling, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Go back to your Cabin and collect yourself,” You nodded and instantly walked away.

You heard Peter talking to the family, hoping to solve the issue so that the boys didn’t miss out on camp because of their crazy parents.

“I did it. I saved the triplets,” Peter entered the girl counselor’s cabin, a soft grin on his face. He saw where you were laying on your twin bed and sat down on the edge, “I might regret it later because the funny looking one with the mo-hawk looks like a biter.”

You didn’t laugh, just pressed your face further into the pillow. Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. You felt him start to rub circles there and that level intimacy enticed you as much as it scared you.

“I suck,” You spoke but it came out muffled.

“You don’t suck,” Peter insisted, “They sucked, hard,” That made you laugh. You turned your body to look at him and his hand moved to your waist, “You’re gonna have a good rest of the day. You’re gonna go swimming, eat hotdogs, and play way too many rounds of hide and seek. It’s gonna be awesome and you’re gonna have to perk up if you want to steal my title as everyone’s favorite counselor.”

You snorted, “Really? I recall Ned being everyone’s favorite last year.”

Peter faked a frown, “The man can make a mean s’ more.”

Absentmindedly, your hand touched his and you moved it away quickly. Too quickly, “You’re right,” you coughed awkwardly, “Today will be good.”

Something clicked, you could see it in his eyes that something had shifted.

“Do you want to come on a drive with me tonight, after everyone’s in bed. I have a view I want to show you.”

“Isn’t that not allowed?”

“I’m head counselor, Y/N. Plus, I’m Spiderman. Who’s gonna fire me?”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, but we’re back before midnight.”

For such a techy guy, Peter’s car was more run down than you expected, “What? She’s a passion project,” He said, touching the dash as if he believed the car was actually a person.

Peter was right, you had a great day. The kids loved you and you even had one of Ned’s famous s' mores. You had a feeling the night might even get a little better. The way Peter was looking at you was how you’d always wanted to be looked at by someone.

The car turned on onto a dirt road and it seemed you were on it for ten minutes before suddenly a valley opened up before you. Peter parked the car so the trunk was facing an amazing view. You got out of the rusty truck with your flashlight shining for extra light. You really didn’t need it because the moon was full and the stars were shining so bright.

They illuminated the valley and the beautiful mountain range in front of you, “Wow,” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and Peter looked at you as if you were the cutest thing in the world.

“Just wait,” Peter opened up the back of the pick-up trunk and there laid a bunch of blankets and pillows. He kicked off his shoes, climbing in and setting the lantern down. He patted the spot beside him, “You can see the stars better if you lay down.”

You would’ve thought this idea was the most romantic thing in the world if you didn’t get so terrified at that moment. This was like … a date. At least, to her, these weren’t things normal friends did. Not when they held your waist and looked at you like that.

You played with your fingernails, “Uhm..” Your voice trailed off.

Peter had already laid down, expecting you to join him. He sat up on his elbows, “Y/N?”

You could do this.

You climbed up into the truck, crawling beside him but leaving a few feet in between you. You let the small lantern keep you separated, “D-Did you only bring me here because of what happened earlier, Peter?”

You looked up at the stars and it was breathtaking.

“No,” Peter laughed nervously. “I just … It just made me realize something.”

“Realize what?”

You turned your head and realized he was already looking at you, “That I wanted to get to know you. You were still nice to those people even after they were so rude to you. It made me …” His voice trailed off and his eyes shut as if he didn’t want to admit what was next, “It made me want to protect you.”

Was this it? The magic you always wanted.

“You don’t … y-you, don’t have to protect me, Peter.”

He laid his hand out and you surprise yourself when you pressed your hands to his, “But I want to,” He said.

“I don’t know how to do things like this,” You admitted.

“It’s okay, I can show you,” Peter said quickly, “Not that I’m super experienced either. But, as you can see, I’m pretty good at choosing romantic locations.”

You blushed and he interlaced your fingers.

You laid there for a while, pointing out constellations and making jokes about the new ones you made up.

“There, I found it!” Peter pointed up but there were so many stars that you couldn’t tell which one he was looking at.

“What is it?”

“It’s you, can’t you see it?” You shook your head, leaning closer to him so you could try to see from his perspective. As you moved closer, Peter turned his head towards you, “Take my word for it, it’s as beautiful as you look right now.”

You looked at him too and you stared until Peter leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Magic. This was magic. You weren’t sure how to move your lips but you just pressed yourself further into him.

As you pulled away to catch your breath, you smiled, “Was that good?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah,” and he pressed his lips against yours again, his hand on your waist, “I’ve wanted to do that since last summer.”

You pulled away, “You’ve liked me for that long?”

He tried to kiss you again, pulling your body into his, “Of course, you’re so beautiful … and innocent.” And naive, you thought. You didn’t want him to think of you as innocent. You didn’t want that to be the reason he liked you.

You pressed a hand to his chest, trying to create distance, “Peter, maybe we should go back now. What if someone notices we’re gone?” He held you tighter and your heart raced, “Peter, I-I think we’re moving too fast.”

“This is what people who like each other do, Y/N?” He buried his head into your neck and began to kiss the skin there, “You don’t like me?” His breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

“P-Please, please, Peter,” You begged, struggling against him. He soon was on top of you and, as you tried to escape his grasps, he pinned your arms above your head. You screamed for help and Peter only frowned.

“No one’s gonna hear you,” He sounded annoyed. Who was this boy above you? Was he always a wolf in sheep’s skin? All these years?

“Peter, you saved me today,” You tried to reason with him, “Don’t do this.”

He held your legs down as he ripped off your shorts with ease, “White panties? I should’ve known,” This was what he wanted. To steal your innocence and to hold that title forever. He spread your legs with his own.

His eyes hovered above your own, his eyes staring right into, “What do you think people will believe? This story or that an innocent little girl like you wanted to lose her virginity with the boy she’s always had a crush on. Who do you think they’ll believe, you or me?”

You cried out but he shushed you by forcing his lips on you. You bit his lip and he pulled away, fuming and his grip on your wrist tightened, “We’re gonna have fun these three weeks,” He pulled off your panties next, stuffing them into your mouth to muffle your screams, “I’ll be gentle if you stop struggling, Y/N. I know it’s your first time.”

He positioned himself between your legs, pulling down his own shorts before feeling your sex with his fingers. He tested your reaction, watched you flinch as he stimulated that foreign part of your body, “I bet you haven’t even masturbated,” Peter growled, “Jesus.” He could probably finish just with the idea of you being so tight.

He positioned himself at your entrance and you felt just how hard he was. You closed your eyes tight but they shot open as he slowly entered you. You struggled but that only made it worse. You were still, the pain ripping through your lower region. Tears were spilling out of your eyes.

He didn’t need to hold you down anymore, his body was pressed against yours now and you felt too helpless to fight it anymore, “You’re gonna be mine, Y/N,” Peter whispered in your ear, tasting your tears with his tongue, “Only mine.”

As he rubbed your sensitive area and moved in and out, you hated that you were getting used to it. You hated that it was starting to feel pleasure. Peter noticed that you were getting wet and that only made him start to thrust his hips faster.

Something began building in your core and you thought you might explode. Your body convulses and your breathing becomes even more rapid. You tightened around Peter’s member, milking his climax out of him as you did the same but against your will. Peter slammed his hand down beside your head, groaning loudly as he finished inside of you.

You were his for the rest of camp and you were not to tell anyone what happened.

“This is gonna be such a good summer, Y/N.”

Feel free to request some drabbles! If you want more dark peter than check out my masterlist!

#peter parker x y/n #peter Parker au #dark Peter #dark!peter #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #fanfiction #dark fic #dark marvel #marvel smut #marvel #mcu smut #mcu #mcu fanfiction #harryspetrequests #camp au

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nctinfo · 5 years ago

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[TRANS] Johnny & Jaehyun’s interview with W Korea May 2020 issue!

Today was a day where we borrowed the cinematic imagination of the 1996 film <Romeo and Juliet" directed by Baz Luhrmann and created two Romeos. Both of you portrayed the 'Modern Day Romeo' well, how did you think the shooting went? Johnny: It felt like we came out to play. The setting too, it felt just like any small town in America. When I was leaning against the bed during the shoot, I danced excitedly while holding a bunch of grapes (laughs). Romeo, I think, is someone who is honest with his feelings and who wants to achieve love till the end. Thanks to this, regardless of what others might think, I had fun during the shoot. Jaehyun: From the Hawaiian shirts with palm trees to leopard print belts. Above all, the outfits were bold. The point of today was to act like someone who plays around and has always worn this kind of style. There was a scene [in the movie] where Romeo flips over the white blankets and plays around with Juliet, but it wasn't easy [to portray that scene] because of the blood that rushed to my face (laughs).

It’s a shame we don’t have a Juliet today. If you were to summon Juliet right now, what outfit would she appear in? And what do you imagine would be the first thing she says? Johnny: A simple outfit would be nice. For today’s shoot I was wearing a white short sleeved t-shirt and cream coloured jeans, so Juliet would have a similar vibe and would say ‘Are you doing well?’ filled with affection and excitement. Jaehyun: She’d appear in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. With a short ‘I missed you’.

There are two male leads in the movie <Romeo and Juliet>. There is Romeo who is a romanticist with rich emotions but who is hesitant in front of love, and there is Tybalt who is a calm strategist but sometimes emits fiery charms like a bulldozer. Between the two, who do you feel like you're similar to? Johnny: I think I'm similar to Tybalt who wants to be like Romeo. I'm the type of person to carry out something immediately when you decide on it. On the other hand, I want to learn from Romeo's attitude to be faithful and honest with your feelings the moment you fall in love. Jaehyun: I'm the opposite of Johnny. I think I'm Romeo who wants to resemble Tybalt's calm and analytical side. Normally, I'm the type to follow my feelings rather than reasoning, so if I had to choose between the two, it would be Romeo.

If some day your story gets made into a movie, what song would you want to be played in the ending credits? Johnny: On bright sunny days like lately the mood is refreshed and tender. If the movie will be about me in spring, then Mac Miller’s ‘Circles’ would be nice. If I ever get to make a movie in the future, any Coldplay song would be good. Coldplay’s music feels like home, music genres come and go, but in the end when I need stability I always seem to turn to Coldplay. Jaehyun: In my own movie, first of all I don’t think we need a post credit scene (laugh). I’ve always cherished Chet Baker’s ‘I fall in love too easily’. It’s a tasty song that you can listen to on repeat with an empty head, without thinking anything. Chet Baker’s trumpet performance and voice always strangely draw my ears in.

The title song 'Kick It' of your 2nd full album <NCT#127 Neo Zone> that was released in March actively incorporates the identity of cine kids hero, Bruce Lee. Taking over Bruce Lee's baton, is there a movie protagonist who you want to express musically? Johnny: Exactly two people come to mind. First, Brad Pitt from the movie <Fight Club>, I want to try a song with a strong beat with a fighter's unique fiery temperament. It would be great to incorporate the shocking twist of the movie. The other is Will Smith in the movie <The Pursuit of Happiness>. It's a 'life' movie I want to give five stars. No matter what twists and turns, it's a movie that eventually ends with a happy ending. It would be nice to sing [a song] with a message that even though it's hard now, you'll be happy in the end. A slow ballad would suit that, right? Jaehyun: Even though I acted as him today, Romeo would be fun [to express]. It would be a song that shouts love, but it would be perfect if it contains everything from joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure like in the movie. When I think of James Dean in the movie <Rebel Without a Cause> I imagine music that puts together spicey funky beats based on the old sounds of jazz bands. Recently I'm really into jazz, soul, and R&B, so a band sound is essential.

Even if it's not someone who everyone knows like Bruce Lee, is there someone you two consider to be a hero? Johnny: I don't really express it well normally, but my mom? I'm an only child that was born late, so I always stuck to my mother when I was young. Looking back, I think my mother was a person who sacrificed herself to her family but still valued her happiness. I want to resemble the way she always lives consciously while having fun. It was my mother who taught me how to feel and enjoy every moment. My mom often told me that the experience of 'trying' something is important. For example, I spent my childhood in the United States, and no matter what, we always celebrated the independence day, which is on July 4th, with family and watched the fireworks. On days when the moon was bright and full, we'd be outside watching it. Thanks to this, I think I've grown up as a person with rich emotions. Jaehyun: my grandmother. Despite nearing 80 years old, she had been a dancer until recently and is now retired. She doesn't miss the broadcasts I appear on and watches everything, and after the broadcast ends, she will always send me long KakaoTalk messages with feedback. Because she's a dancer, there are times when she points out my fingertips and neckline but in general, she tells me what kind of mindset I should have when it comes to life. I always get advice from teachers and people around me, but strangely, every word from my grandmother seems to really pierce me. [She tells me] Don't mind others, live enjoying everything you can take on. I still hold [those words] close to me.

It's been quite a while since the first stage you did in the name of NCT 127. What was the driving force behind you during this long time? Johnny: fans, members, family. Looking back, it seems like it was people that led me. Fans are the 'reason' for me to do something. The members are my companions who walk together for this reason, and wouldn't my family be my roots. Having a place to go back to is a completely different story. I think it's family that shows me that I can fall sometimes and that I have somewhere to go back to. Jaehyun: I was able to endure my trainee days purely because I liked music. It's the same now. Of course, our fans who like our music and who come and watch our stages are a great strength too. One difference is that, until now, I relied on the people around me and tried to lean my body on the 'crew', but I seem to have found a driving force within myself recently. I give myself strength by pushing myself or complimenting myself, that's how I find enlightenment within myself. In this sense, as a human, I feel like I'm going through a time of maturity.

If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself if you could pat yourself on the back right before going up on the stage for the first time? Johnny: ‘Have confidence. Even if your spirits fall, work on everything’. I don’t know how it might have looked on the outside but my state of mind now seems to be very different from then. I’m much more free now. I kept telling myself that I’m nice and confident, and now I think I am able to stand confident like this. I don’t know why I only saw the flaws in the past. Now, rather than trying to make up for my weaknesses, I tend to focus on maximising my strengths instead. Jaehyun: ‘Do what you want, what you think is right and what you like. Of course I know you’ll do fine, but it would be nice to be a bit more daring.’

What are 3 adjectives that describe you? Johnny: Energetic, romantic, selfish. The last word I chose because I think in order to make another person happy, I need to be happy myself and only when I have a sense of security I can care for other people. Jaehyun: I like classic stuff so first of all, classic, continuous because I always try to learn and grow, and firm in terms of trying to remain as stable as possible.

What were you born with, and on the other hand what weren’t you born with that you’re trying to achieve? Johnny: Seems like I was born with curiosity. Like I’ve mentioned before, my mom has influenced me a lot. On the other hand I want to make passion my thing. Sometimes I look at the members when I’m lazing around. Everyone has their ‘one passion’! Jaehyun: Ever since I was little I would always fix the TV at home whenever it broke down. I think I’ve been born with dexterity. I seem to be good at sports, but I really need flexibility (laugh). I also want to break up with my short lived resolve. To speak, I lack persistence a little. When I really like something or if I have a clear reason to do it, my body moves. If there’s neither, I fall into the swamp of one short lived resolve to another. (laugh)

As a listener of <NCTs Night Night>, a show that was hosted by the two of you in the past, I think you were compassionate and were counselors who had shown more empathy than other people of your age. Today, let's write the concerns of you two. What's your biggest concern now after passing April 12th, 2020? Johnny: Although it's a little embarrassing to say it in words, my biggest concern these days is how to be a strength for the fans who we can't meet because of the recent situation. Most importantly, I don't want to be distressed and spend this time more meaningful. Jaehyun: What the heck to do at home! I'm the type to be very active. Nobody can go outside so I'm working hard in trying to find something I can do home alone. I've watched movies, listened to music and cooked, but I can't help but still feel the itch [to do something].

When you watch your web variety show <NCT LIFE>, you two are often seen standing in the kitchen. Is there any dish you want to make for that one precious person in the future? I wonder what the specific recipe is and what the mood of the day will be like. Johnny: First of all, I wanna make breakfast. Omelets are good to eat in the morning. Omelets are well made when you think 'even though it's bad, it's good'! Stir-fry onions and bell peppers until they become sweet, then sprinkle some pepper to finish it. The time would be good at 09:30 am when the sunlight is strong enough to see the dust. That precious one would be sitting in a chair (laughs). The table will be set with cutlery and two cups of coffee. So that you can open the morning in a relaxed and simple manner. Jaehyun: Samgyetang and stir-fried pork, is that too native? (laughs) If I had to choose one, I will pick the stir-fried pork that was also complimented on <NCT LIFE>. Sometimes only red pepper paste or red pepper powder is used for the sauce, but I tend to use both. It would be great if there was a pretty plate with fruit too, it's the perfect dessert.

Even if it’s not a cooking moment, what’s the time, place, thing or person that makes you the most gentle? Johnny: From noon to 2pm. I feel the most peaceful when the sun is shining at that time. I don’t really care about the place. As for a thing, a scented candle that I have received as a gift while filming <NCT LIFE> in Thailand. For people, anyone! Jaehyun: Late night nearing the dawn. I really like watching the night view. I think the Han River could make me the most gentle. Personal things like earphones or speakers. Being together with family would be nice.

As a person and as a musician, what time do you think you’re going through? Johnny: I always feel like I'm at the starting line. Even when I do the same thing, I have to have a new mindset in order to grow. Jaehyun: It’s a slow process for humans but I seem to be slowly becoming more mature. As a musician, when the time comes I’ll be looking from a distance thinking I’m making ‘my own’ thing.

Translation: Alex, Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: W Korea Scans — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #johnny #jaehyun #t:trans #t:interview #W Korea #W Korea: May 2020

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vanillapie-80 · 4 years ago

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The Road To Recovery Chapter 2: Filling In the Gaps

Chapter two boisss. I suprised myself with this chapter because I thought it’d be shorter. So there’s that, anyways. Here the aftermath of last chapter as well as some new problems.

AO3

As the rain poured through the streets of Arcadia, the police station was crowded with officers. Detective Scott had some paperwork he had to fill out after finishing a case of his. After that, he hoped to go home and spend some time with his daughter, if she wasn’t out with her friends. But he knew that Darci was at home since both Claire and Mary were said to be in detention for most of the day, so surely there was nothing to worry about. From a few desks away from him, an officer saw that their phone was going off and answered it.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” They asked.

“Hello? Me and some students were in a car crash and one of us is missing.”

The officer tensed at what they heard from the person’s voice on the other line, they began writing down the details they were given. “What’s your name?”

“C-Claire Nuñez.” Crap, the officer knew that was the councilwoman’s daughter.

“Okay, and where are you?”

“Uh. I don’t know, somewhere around the campsite- Toby! Did you find Jim?”

The officer continued to silently listen to the other line. “Yeah, but he got seriously messed up! I- I think he might be dying Claire. Please tell me you called for help!”

Then, the other line hung up. The officer immediately began to contact dispatch to anyone who was close around the area and began to call an ambulance. By that time, Detective Scott was done with paperwork and was heading home.

Barbara looked up from her phone as someone announced that there was trauma incoming. She had been trying to contact her son for a while but to no avail, calling lead to voicemail and texting lead to no response. With a sigh, Barbara tucked her phone away and got ready to return to work. She anxiously waited for the ambulance to arrive, and in a matter of a few minutes, they arrived.

As the paramedics swung the door open, Barbara made her way to assess the patient they brought in. But when she got close enough to see who it was, the doctor froze in complete shock. The sight of her son bleeding out in a gurney made it feel like Barbara’s entire world was going to shatter right then and there. Her baby boy, her ray of sunshine, was now dying right next to her. No, she thought. This was the irrational part of her mind speaking, Barbara did not know the full extent of Jim’s injuries. But, she had to let another doctor take care of her son. Holding herself as tightly as she could, Barbara watched her co-workers take Jim away. They did not question why she didn’t treat him, because practically everyone in the hospital knew it was her son, and Barbara knew that because of this fact, they would do everything they can to save him.

“Dr. L!!” The doctor snapped out of her train of thought and turned around to see Toby making his way towards her with tears in his eyes. Barbara braced herself as the teen came to her for a hug.

She stayed quiet and let the tears stream down her face while allowing Toby to break down. A paramedic came through the entrance and spotted the teen. “Hey! You can’t go running off like that without a doctor examining you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.” Barbara muttered, her voice sounding dull and hollow. As more patients came to the ER, she began to recognize them to be students from her son’s class. “Come over here Toby, I need to examine you.”

“But Jim-”

“There’s nothing you can do right now except allowing me to make sure you’re alright.” Toby silently agreed, slowly making his way to one of the gurneys that were in the ER.

Barbara couldn’t do anything to help her son, but what she could do was to make sure these kids were alright and healthy. That’s all she could do, and the doctor hated that fact so much. As Barbara examined the redhead teen, she heard some commotion in the waiting room. The doctor saw Ophelia, shouting at one of the nurses to let her see her daughter while Javier was trying to calm his wife down.

Babara let out a tired sigh and told Toby, “Your injuries seem to be minor, but I want to run more tests to make sure you don’t have any internal injuries. For all of you.” She took a quick glance at the other teens before walking toward the waiting room. “Mrs. Nuñez, there is no need to cause a scene.”

“Cause a scene? My daughter was in a car accident! Do you know how common it is for someone to die in a car crash?!” Of course, Barbara did, she was a doctor. That’s why she was always anxious at the idea of her son riding a vehicle.

“How can you say such a thing? Your child wasn’t the only one in the accident and yet you don’t see us shouting at others like they own the place.” Detective Scott interjected, obviously offended by how the councilwoman was acting.

“Claire wasn’t supposed to be out there! None of them should have!”

Soon enough the other parents joined in on the argument while Barbara watched them with a tired stare. The doctor drowned out their voices with her own thoughts, not wanting to take part in this pointless bickering.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never broken the rules before! Going behind your parents’ backs for the sake of rebellion!”

It was very apparent that Jim needed surgery, but to what extent? She didn’t have enough time to see all of his wounds.

“Not when it comes to risking my own life for it!”

Should she call her family? They never gave the effort to be a part of her son’s life but that didn’t mean they never care about him. Barbara wasn’t sure how much of a support system he would need after this.

“Oh don’t give me that-”

What about his mental state? The traumatic experience will very much affect him in more ways than one. Does this mean she’ll have to get a counselor of some kind, or would her son be more comfortable with someone close to him? When it came to therapy, it was hard for Jim to adjust to such a change at a young age. But what if it wasn’t enough? What if thinking ahead was a pointless endeavor in the end? Jim not making it was still in the realm of possibility.

“People please.” The parents went silent by Nana’s stern voice, something that even Barbara rarely heard. “Arguing among each other will lead us to nowhere. Our children are hurt. This is not about you, so you must let Dr. Lake and the others do their jobs.”

Once the silence filled the room for a few moments, all eyes were on Barbara. “Some of them appear to have minor injuries as far as we know, and while others have more serious wounds, none of them seem to be fatal.” The doctor explained bluntly. She couldn’t have any emotion in her voice, otherwise the grieving mother in her would come out and that wouldn’t be so professional of her, she had to keep her emotions in check. “I will let you know when you’ll be able to see them.”

Each parent began to calm down and some of them took a seat. The doctor noticed someone she didn't expect to see from the waiting room. Coach Lawrence sat amongst the other parents. She only knew him as one of the teachers of the public highschool of Arcadia and nothing more. Barbara took a shot in the dark and guessed that one of the kids was one of his. She didn’t dwell too much on it, after all, their children were going to be fine.

Barbara took a deep breath and went back to the ER. The doctorly mask she’s been struggling to keep was still intact, but it was inevitable that it would have to come off, and she knew that.

After further testing, it is safe to say that Toby wasn’t suffering from any internal injuries, rather some lacerations and small head trauma. Barbara told him and the other students that some of them would stay here overnight for observations, just in case. The redhead didn’t want to leave with his nana just yet, he wanted to be there with his friends for support.

“You alright Claire?” Toby asked anxiously as he sat next to her.

“Yeah.... just the morphine that’s all…” She answered, her speech slightly slurred.

“Don’t worry Toby, in a few hours the drug will probably wear off,” Darci reassured, taking a seat on the right side of the bed. She had her in a cast on her arm and had a sling around her to support it. “Though I get the feeling that it isn’t Claire who you’re about.”

The redhead teen looked at the person next to him, her expression hesitant but still determined to obtain answers. He let a dry but quiet chuckle and said, “I would think that would be obvious by now.”

“Sorry. But you haven’t talked about it. I’m just trying to make sure that you’re alright, well that everyone is alright mentally, but for you specifically. Jim is your best friend and anything can happen. You might even have to brace yourself for the worst-case scenario.”

Toby cringed at the thought of losing Jim, grabbing the fabric of his pants with a tight grip. “Jim’s a fighter. You’d be surprised how much he can take.”

Darci couldn’t help but pity him, but she did not understand the true extent of Toby’s words. She did not know the countless fights the trollhunter faced with creatures that were twice his size.

“Did...did you see what attacked Jim? You and Steve are the only ones that found him and he won’t talk.”

The redhead’s eyes were glued to the floor with an intense stare. The image of one of his companions, his friend’s protector, slamming Jim deeper into the ground and leaving him there with no remorse. “I-it looks like a bear.” He muttered.

“A bear?” Darci repeated, who was having doubts.

“I think so. Look it was dark and I was still in shock, but to me, it seemed like it was a bear.” Toby couldn’t handle more of his classmate’s interrogation, he just didn’t want to replay the awful images in his head.

“Hey. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get something to eat.” He responded.

“But we’re at a hospital.”

“I’m sure I can find something around here.” With that, Toby left before Darci could continue their conversation.

The girl’s eyes then wandered to the blonde bully. Like she said to her departed classmate, Steve refused to speak with anyone the moment the ambulance came. He just stood frozen, sitting in one of the gurneys with a blank stare. Darci cautiously shuffled towards the unresponsive student.

“Um. Toby told me what happened.” She said nervously. As much as Darci wanted to believe Toby, the girl always liked to double-check her facts. It’s helped wash the worries away.

“Why do you care?” Steve asked, his voice quiet but somehow intense enough that it made Darci uncomfortable. But she stayed persistent because if today meant anything, it was that Steve was like everyone else. That there were people he thought mattered and wasn’t so terrible, or at least that was what she hoped.

“Police get involved in this kind of stuff, so they ask questions. I thought It’d be easier on all of you guys if I asked first so there wouldn’t be any added stress on talking about it with a stranger. ” She explained before continuing with, “Toby said it was a bear that attacked Jim. Is that true?”

The blonde teen blinked, then said, “A..... bear?”

Darci only nodded. She could see how Steve was reeling in this information. “Yeah. That’s what I saw, probably the biggest bear I’ve ever seen.” The intense tone of his voice never left, but only grew. What would Steve be mad about? Unless Toby’s statement was false. “Where ‘s Domzalski?”

She didn’t want to tell him, cause it felt like that would only stir the pot. But they were at a hospital, so Darci had nothing to worry about, right? “He said that he was going to get something to eat but-”

Steve immediately got up and pushed his classmate aside to leave the ER. Darci groaned in frustration, already feeling her regret. The young student looked around and saw the police. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off her nerves, Darci needed to be there with her friends for this. She tried reassuring herself that there was nothing between the two boys.

Toby sat on the floor next to a vending machine, all while staring at the amulet that dimly glowed a blue light. The redhead managed to grab it just before the ambulance took him away. He dreadfully waited for the small object to do something, for better or for worse. Suddenly, someone grabbed Toby by the collar of his shirt and began dragging him into a secluded area in the hospital.

He was then shoved into a wall and dropped the amulet from his hand. The redhead gazed upwards to see Steve in front of him, who had a furious expression. While rubbing his neck, Toby muttered, “Oh come on…” to himself.

“A bear? That’s what you went with?!” He shouted.

“So I see you’ve talked to Darci,” Toby remarked, trying his best to smooth-talk his way out of this.

“Are you stupid?! No one is going to believe that a bear caused all of this!”

“You’d be surprised. There’s a lot of bears in California, you know?”

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize bears had enough strength to flip a car over, let alone breaking trees in half!” Toby wasn’t sure why the blonde teen was so mad at him for doing it, it’s not like he did anything better or anything at all when Darci asked him what he saw.

“Listen. It’s a lot more believable than what actually happened. I’m trying my best here so cut me some slack alright.” The redhead tried to leave but he was shoved back again, only this time Steve didn’t let go. “Urgh! What is your problem?! I was trying not to make us look crazy and yet you’re mad at me?! You have no right to treat me this way!”

The blonde teen faltered and let go of Toby. Jim’s words began to echo in his mind, “You just have a reputation okay? And not a good one, but you already know that. I know you are capable of being a nice person.”

He was doing it again, and Steve didn’t realize it. He was going back to the school bully that tormented others, going back to the person that everyone hated. “I.......I’m trying to be a better person....” Steve muttered, but more to himself than to Toby. “Sorry....”

“Well, at least you got it out of your system right?” The redhead bitterly said back.

Of course Toby didn’t forgive him, why would he? The blonde teen would’ve probably hurt him if he continued.

“Steve Palchuck....”

Both of them froze at the new voice, Steve wasn’t able to recognize it. “Steve Palchuck.....” He turned to the right to see a small object on the floor, the hands ticking away.

Toby quickly fell to his knees and snatched it from the floor, his hands shaking. The redhead looked absolutely terrified. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” He got up and ran out of the room they were in, with Steve following behind.

This isn't happening. Jim was fine, he was fine. What Toby heard was just his mind playing tricks on him. His best friend wasn’t dead, he can’t. But the amulet said Steve’s name, that wouldn’t have happened if...... if......

The redhead stopped at a screeching halt at the sight of doctors blocking his path, one of them being Barbara. “What are you two doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the ER?”

“Uh,” Toby looked back to see Steve, who was glancing away at the group of people. “We... just wanted to grab something to eat Dr. L, but we got lost. It’s a big hospital you know.” He couldn’t hold back the tears, as the idea of Jim being gone finally settling in. “Sorry about that.” Toby sobbed.

“No. Don’t apologize, this all must be very hard on you.” Barbara took one of his hands while wiping her tears away. She then took him to a few corridors until they made it to the ICU. When Barbara led Toby to one of the rooms, he quietly gasped. “He’s still in critical condition. But there’s hope that Jim will make it.

The redhead felt a tidal wave of relief wash over him. He wasn’t dead, his best friend was still here. But if that was the case, then why did the amulet call for Steve. Toby began to worry, was the amulet just preparing for the inevitable. Can it even do that?

Barbara left the room to go talk to the doctors again. She saw Steve standing outside of the room like he was afraid to even enter with Toby. The doctor had heard a lot about him, with none of it being good. However, Steve was just a child, and just like the rest of his classmates, he was terrified about this ordeal. So, despite her hesitance, Barbara silently allowed the blonde teen to stay.

Steve had expected Lake’s mother to kick him out, he wasn’t close to her son, not by a long shot. Now that it was just him and Toby, he felt intrusive and out of place. Steve was about to leave until the redhead spoke.

“Something’s wrong.”

“What?” He asked while seeing Toby holding his friend's hands.

“The amulet. It won’t call someone unless the previous user has died.” Oh. Steve sensed a chill slowly running down his spine.

“But Lake’s fine. He has tubes in his mouth, but he's still alive.” The blonde teen rationalized.

“I want to believe that too. But there has to be a reason why the amulet said your name.”

“Maybe it’s broken.” Toby raised an eyebrow at Steve's suggestion. He showed the small object in his hand and tossed it at his classmate.

“Does it look broken to you?” Steve inspected it, there didn’t seem to be any cracks or anything out of place as far as he knew.

“It’s magic, right? It’s messed up and we don’t see it.” The redhead groaned in frustration and pulled his hair back.

“Look man, I don’t have all the answers. I’m just spouting stuff other people told me.”

The blonde teen was unsure if this was the right time, but at this point, he couldn’t stand being in the dark anymore. “S-so, you know what caused this?”

Toby stayed silent for a moment, the lump now in his throat made it difficult to get the words out. “Yeah..... I guess I do.”

“Then can you please tell me what is going on? Because you can fool everyone in this hospital, but you sure as hell can’t with me.” Steve was able to control himself from shouting this time.

Once again, there was a long pause from Toby. All he wanted to do today was to get his peers to enjoy themselves. He wanted Jim to have one day, one day where he was at peace and didn’t have to worry much about his responsibilities. The redhead had never expected this to blow up on his face this hard. Now Steve was the trollhunter while there was a huge possibility of his best friend dying.

“Well then, you might want to sit down for this part. Cause it’s a lot to take in.” Toby said with a sigh, his eyes focusing on Jim. Hoping that the universe will be kind enough to keep him alive.

After a few hours, the sedative the doctors gave Claire wore off. She began to feel extremely sore in some parts of her body, most likely where the more severe injuries she suffered were treated. At some point, her parents were able to see her when Claire was moved to her own room. Most of the time it was just her mother scolding the young teen while her father watched with a sympathetic look. Like always, the councilwoman had to make it about her instead of her own daughter.

At this point, Claire had learned to just tune out the lectures. She had heard it enough times to understand her mother. That she’d be disappointed in her no matter what if Claire didn’t fit the perfect image the councilwoman envisioned. Soon, the young teen had the room to herself. As she waited for some of her friends to come, her phone began to vibrate from the counter on the right side.

Claire picked it up and that it was Blinky. She took a deep breath and braced herself. “Hello?”

“Ah, Lady Claire. Is Master Jim with you? There is something important we need to discuss and he hasn’t been answering my calls.” The troll greeted, his voice sounding somewhat relieved but still worried.

The young teen bit her lip, before saying, “Blinky. We were in an accident and-”

“Great gronka morka! Are you alright?!”

“I’m fine, Toby is too, but Jim...... he..... he was hurt pretty badly. I don't know what happened to him yet but I'll let you know as soon as I find out.” Claire explained nervously. She had started to wonder where the redhead even was since there was no sign of him despite being hours since Claire last saw him.

“Oh dear. This.... this is not good. What are we going to do now?” By the sounds of it, Blinky was talking about something completely different.

“What’s going on Blinky?” She asked.

“I’m afraid that this night will not get any better. The Tribunal has requested for the arrest of Master Jim.”

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently Usurna has evidence that Master Jim has released Gunmar into the surface.” This could not be happening right now. Jim was not in any shape of getting out of this hospital, but knowing how stubborn trolls could be, there was no telling what the Tribunal would do if the trollhunter didn’t show.

“Can you just explain what happened and just postpone it?” She knew all too well that trolls weren’t so kind to humans, especially for Jim’s case, but surely they can give him some form of sympathy and stop this.

“I’m afraid with an accusation as severe as this, it cannot be dropped so easily for the Tribunal are very adamant for punishment. If it’ll not be Master Jim, surely they’ll find someone else who was involved in it to take responsibility.” Claire quickly dropped her previous sentiment once Blinky clarified that this situation was not going to be easy to get out of. “Telling the ordeal you’ve been through tonight could give you for a few days at the very least. However, that’ll make the Tribunal restless which might not help your case.”

The young girl pinched the bridge of her nose, their options weren’t great, but there wasn’t much they could do. “Well, you’re doing your best. That’s really all I can ask for. Me and Toby will try and be there as soon as possible.”

“Very well then. I wish the best for you all.” As Blinky hung up, Claire sank herself further to the mattress of the hospital bed. Too much, there was too much going on with little time to actually process it. She then heard a knock on her door and saw Toby standing in the middle of the door frame.

“Hey Claire.” He sheepishly said.

“Toby, you just missed a call I got from Blinky.”

That caught the redhead’s attention as slowly walked closer to his friend. “Really? What did he say?”

Claire sighed as she began to fiddle with her phone. “Nothing good really, but before I tell you, any word on Jim?”

A tired smile formed on Toby’s lips. “He survived the surgery. Dr. L says that he has a long way to go but he’s doing fine all things considered.” The young teen felt a lot of her anxieties washed away and glanced at her phone.

“That’s.... that’s good to hear. I’m going text Blinky about right now.”

“Uhh sure you do that, but while you’re at it, there’s just one more thing I need to say, or show you in this case.” Toby didn’t make it seem like it was anything bad, but he was good at sugar coating things.

The redhead looked outside from the room and made a small gesture to someone to come inside, and that someone was Steve.

Claire blinked in surprise. “Oh. Hi Steve.”

Toby scratched the back of his head while saying, “Sorry I didn’t come sooner. I was giving out some good ol’ exposition to our “buddy” over here.”

The tension then came back to her and lifted herself out of bed. “You told him?”

“Easy there. He saw Draal the moment we found Jim, so there was no point in lying.” Toby was leaving something out, she could tell by the tone of his voice.

“The stupid amulet called my name,” Steve muttered. “But I guess the person who had it before is supposed to die.” It was obvious that he was uncomfortable at the thought, and who would be?

Claire stayed silent with a blank stare before saying, “I thought you said that Jim was alright,” with a frantic voice

“He is! It’s just that the amulet picked Steve for some reason, but before you take the chance to freak out more, mind telling us the not-so-good news Blinky gave you?” Right, there was also that. Man does this day keep getting better and better.

“Uhh, he said that the Tribunal wants to arrest Jim for releasing Gunmar.” Toby’s eyes widened in shock while Steve’s shoulders tensed up.

“That’s bad, right?” The blonde teen asked.

“Yeah, it really is. So what do we do now?” The redhead moved closer to his friend and sat next to her.

“We have to go to Trollmarket as soon as possible. Or least until I get discharged. If we don’t show, things will probably get worse.” Claire explained with a sigh.

“Do I have to come?” Steve didn’t want to ask that question, he really didn’t. But this was starting to sound serious, and maybe there was a small chance that he could help. How exactly? The blonde teen wasn’t sure.

“It’s really risky, especially since you never had any combat training.” As much as a frustrating person Steve was, she would never wish any harm on him. And if what she heard about Trollmarket’s reaction when they found out that Jim was the trollhunter was true, then bringing him along could lead to the exact opposite of what Claire wanted.

“But what if the Tribunal thinks we’re lying about Jim? We’re not someone who they really trust, and he could be backup, a fancy sword made of magic can do much wonders as a defense.” Toby suggested with a shrug. “And if something goes wrong, he has you, me, and Aaarrrgghh to help him out.”

The two boys watched the young girl weighing the options. Sure, it was two out of one, but Claire was smart. And at this point, she was silently placed as leader until further notice. “I can’t believe I’m going through with this, but we’re all pretty much screwed right now. So, do you have any trouble sneaking out of the house at night Steve?”

“Not at all.” He had successfully snuck out a few times to go to some late-night parties, this shouldn’t be any different.

In one of the private offices of the hospital, Barbara laid head first on the desk. She was on break and finally had time to let all of her exhaustion set in. The information given to her about Jim’s condition and the outcomes it might lead to.

The worst of her son’s injuries was the one on his spine. The doctors stated that most likely that he will have permanent damage to his nerves. There was no telling he would regain complete function of his limbs or would have to deal with something else. Either way, Jim’s body won’t work the same way as it used to.

As Barbara put her hands above her head, an elderly voice called to her. “Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” The doctor straightened herself and turned her chair around to see Toby’s grandmother. “Mrs. Domzalski-”

“Dear please, how many times do I need to remind you to call me Nana.” The old woman teased as she entered the room.

Barbara let out a tired laugh, removing her glasses to rub her eyes. “Old habit I guess. Though why were you trying to find me? I discharged Toby a few hours ago.”

“He wants to check on the councilwoman’s daughter. They’ve been friends for awhile you know.” Nana explained. “And also wanted to see how you were doing.” “What you’d expect I suppose.” She wanted to grieve, to let all of those raw emotions free, but Barbara just couldn’t at this point. And she knew that there wouldn’t be enough time even to do that if she could.

“Dear, I don’t believe I know the answer to that. Only you do.” Nana placed her hand onto Babara’s left shoulder. “And if you’re willing to talk to me about it, then I’ll know. It’s never healthy to keep everything bottled up.”

Barbara allowed the old woman’s word to sink in. “ I will give anything to do that, but I’m just so tired right now. I don’t have enough energy to even fall apart and cry for hours.”

“You know for someone whose job is to take care of people, you don’t seem to do that for yourself.” Nana never understood that. She could forgive those who didn’t have any extensive knowledge of health, they just didn’t know any better. Doctors, however, did. The old woman could remember the countless times she has seen medical professionals ignore their health.

“Well, I’d like to think that we’re the biggest hypocrites on earth,” Barbara explained with a quiet voice.

It took two days for Claire to get discharged, the doctors told her parents that she just had to take it easy for a few days. That statement made the young girl second guess herself about going to trollmarket but pushed the idea aside. Sooner the better, because there was no telling when the Tribunal’s patience would wear thin. When the night came, Claire took her shadow staff and created a portal while a small changeling watched from behind.

“Remember NotEnrique, you have to keep watch to make sure mom and dad don’t know I’m gone.”

“I hear ya. And I’ll let ya know if they come running over here.” The changeling added. Claire smiles at him before entering the portal.

In Arcadia’s canals, Toby and Steve stood below the bridge there waiting for the young girl to arrive. The two never said a word to each other for a good while now. Something about being alone with Steve made the redhead uneasy, bringing back the memory of him and Claire trying to retrieve the bridge pieces. Meanwhile, the blonde teen was too anxious about seeing trolls to even talk to Toby. He tried to play it cool at the hospital when learning that there was an entire society hidden underground in their town, but when Steve made it home, that’s where he took the time to openly show his nervous breakdown in his room.

Everything that felt out of place in Arcadia suddenly made sense. But very quickly he wanted to forget it, the mantle of being a trollhunter sounded too dangerous for his taste. Steve had no intentions of dying, and going through with this sounds like the exact opposite of what he wanted. However, the blonde teen would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. And who wouldn’t? It’d be near impossible to just ignore the existence of magic and trolls and not look into it.

Steve’s were ripped away at the sight of a dark portal appearing in front of the two boys. Claire then hopped out of it and it quickly disappeared. She pulled her hair back and exhaled.

“Okay. We’re all here, now it’s time to face the music. Would you like to do the honors, Toby?” The redhead nodded and took out an orange crystal that had a wooden handle attached to it.

Toby made his way to the canal’s wall, with Claire and Steve following behind, and began to draw a curved line as big as he could. Once he was done, the redhead pressed his hand on the wall and in a matter of seconds, it began to break away into various pieces and disappear. Steve watched as Toby quietly went inside the glowy entrance. He extended his arm but pulled it away when it made contact with the magical wall.

“It’s now or never.” The blonde thought before jumping headfirst inside the canal’s walls.

What he was met with were massive blue crystal staircases that twirled around until they reached the ground. The blonde teen stared in awe by how beautiful the sight was, but had to divert his attention away to getting all the way down. Claire noticed her classmate’s reaction and decided to catch up to him.

“You know. I really wished this was under better circumstances.” Steve jumped at the sudden sound of the girl’s voice, almost falling off the stairs. He looked at her in confusion, so she continued as they walked. “Coming here for the first time, it’s a one of a kind moment. But the difference between now and before is that there were no lives at stake or trolls coming to arrest us. I just hope that when all this blows over, you get to share the same experience that we all had.”

It was very strange. Hearing someone genuinely talking to him, was it supposed to feel like this? First from Coach Lawrence, then from Lake, and now Claire, would he be able to get used to such a thing? As the three of them walked down the final set of stairs, two large creatures, which Steve assumed were trolls, pointed their spears at them. The trolls barely looked like the one he saw in the woods, but that didn’t make them less terrifying.

Toby and Claire stood in front of the blonde teen and took their weapons out with a defensive stance. It didn’t take long for more trolls to contribute to this ambush. They all looked the same except one, who came towards the group. Their appearance was formal and very fancy in Steve’s perspective.

“Where is the trollhunter?” Usurna hissed while glaring at them.

“Didn’t Blinky tell you? He’s at the hospital and is in no condition to come right now.” The troll scoffed at Toby’s notion.

“You could easily be lying. Trying to hide him from our grasp.”

The redhead glanced at Claire and muttered, “Told you they wouldn’t believe us.”

She turned to the blonde teen with a nervous expression. “Steve, take out the amulet.” He did as he was told and heard many gasps from the trolls at the sight of him. “Read the incantation.”

“Incantation?” Steve looked at the small object more closely and noticed there were words inscribed on it. “For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is Mine to Command.” He read slowly.

The amulet began ticking and its blue aura shined. Armor then appeared out of nowhere and was placed onto Steve. It felt tight at first before the armor adjusted to his size. With a flash, Steve was holding a sword, which made itself slightly bigger than before.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, amazed by such magic.

“So..... the trollhunter died, and amulet dared chose another fleshbag to hold the mantle,” Usurna stated, disgusted at that fact.

“Did not listen to what I said. He’s still alive.” Toby quickly corrected, but before he could say anything else Usurna spoke.

“I believe it does not matter at this point. Arrest the human trollhunter.” She commanded before turning their back on them.

“What?!” The three of them shouted in unison.

The troll guards grabbed Steve by both arms and dragged him away. A fight or flight instinct came over Steve, an instinct that has been proven useful to him countless times. “Let go of me! Or else I’ll beat the hell out of you!” He thrashed and kicked at the trolls, yelling with all his might. But it was futile.

Claire ran for Usurna and blocked her path. “You can’t arrest Steve! He had no idea about all of this! Wouldn’t it make more sense to arrest the people who took part in the release of Gunmar?!”

“You have no authority over me, fleshbag. If James is unable to attend to his own arrest, might as well let this new trollhunter to fill in the role.” The troll pushed past the girl with such force to almost make her fall to the ground. “And besides, it’s more than Gunmar’s escape that will be put into question.”

As Claire helplessly watched Usurna leave, Toby sprinted to Blinky’s library for aid. Because this was not going according to what they planned at all. God, could there be one day where everything went smoothly without any issues?

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #jim lake jr #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #darci scott #nana domzalski #barbara lake #blinky galadrigal #jeves #vanilla writing

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gamesception · 4 years ago

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So, the Infinity Train is bad, right? Not the show, the show is great, but the train itself within the show.

Spoilers, below.

Including spoilers for the end of season 3.

Like, ok, it's trying to help people work through emotional problems and maladjusted/antisocial personality traits. Benevolent intentions, at least when humans are concerned, seem sincere enough. And sure, it worked for Tulip & Jesse. But while maybe not deliberately malicious, the train is trying to serve a moral function with an automated, amoral system that doesn’t work and is fundamentally inhumane.

Especially to the denizens it creates. However artificial they may be, seasons 2 and 3 especially make clear that they are fully realized actual people, and the train just makes them up on a whim and suborns their entire existence to the passenger's personal growth. Life for a lot of denizens is pretty horrific. Not just Lake being hunted, but kick-me toad, the wind guy, several denizens seem created to suffer an existentially nightmarish existence so that their suffering can teach some passenger a moral. Even the ones that aren't created to suffer still face perpetual risk from ghoms, passengers, & other dangers of the train, and are still trapped in a single car, or risk being forever separated from that home by the movement of cars if they ever leave it. Even if the system works to help humans, creating an entire subordinate class of fully sapient creatures and then treating them as expendable tools in furtherance of that goal is kind of horrific & bad?

And that's before you consider that therapy train isn't even very good at what it does. Like, looking at the memory tapes we've seen, the things that land people on the train aren't that bad? Like, they're bad and all, but they're still things that people can and do work through and overcome in the plain old regular ass world. None of that shit seems like stuff that would be easier to work through with the help of isolation from human contact and regular mortal peril. The success rate among characters we've met isn't especially high, and one one himself has admitted that, statistically, passengers are more likely to die than they are to get their numbers to zero and get off the train.

Which would be bad enough if the passengers were adults, but most of them are little children! Which, like, of course. Because whatever inhuman system is choosing the passengers seems to key in on self centered behavior and uncontrolled emotional outbursts as criteria for passengers, and sure those are signs of maladjustment in adults, but they're also just normal conditions of children and young teens who are still developing socially and emotionally?

In season one, it could be readily imagined that the train only picked up people who were otherwise going to die. Tulip ran off into the snowy night in Wisconsin & easily could have frozen if not picked up by the train. Amelia, standing next to the tracks before the train even appeared, seemed like she could have been contemplating suicide. And based on that reading, the risk of death is slightly more forgivable. But implied in season 2 and explicitly in season 3, the train can pick up anyone at any time, so yeah, you could easily imagine a kid lashing out from some traumatic abuse they can’t process ending up on the train to become monster food when without the train some teacher or counselor could have intervened to actually help them.

We don't get to see Simon's backstory before the train, but according to the numbers, it wasn't as bad as what happened to Grace, and wasn't all that far removed from Tulip's issues with her parents. Could any bad thing he did before entering the train have justified the traumas he was subjected to from the moment he got there? Did he really have a better chance on the train than he would have had off of it? Yeah, he made his choices, I'm not saying he "didn't deserve" his fate, but how did any of the stuff he went through constitute helping him? Not all of this can be blamed on Amelia’s usurpation of the train. Even without One One, Tulip shows that the train was more or less working as normal outside of the cars Amelia directly tampered with, and even after One One was back as conductor, the dangers of the train - from flecs to ghoms to laval moles - were still very real.

And if the train wasn’t helping Simon, that only makes all the suffering that it allowed various denizens to experience at his hands by abducting him in the first place all the more unforgivable, since there was never a point to him being on the train at all. Unless he was only there to serve Grace's growth? There’s not a lot of reason to think that, but it is a possibility since without Simon reflecting her worst actions back to her, Grace might never have grown in the way she did. Was that an accident, or intentional on the train’s part, with Simon’s fate an acceptable cost of Grace’s redemption? If it was that would only be worse, since then the train then wouldn’t just be failing to recognize that it's own creations matter as much as humans that exist apart from it, it's also actively choosing to damn some humans to save others. Either the train is dangerously incompetent, or actively malicious here.

Or consider the flecs, the ‘mirror police’ antagonists for most of season 2. I doubt many felt bad for them when they died. After all, they chose to become flecs, and chose to repeatedly try to murder Lake just for wanting her own life. Unlike Simon we don't see a string of humanizing traumas driving them towards those choices. But did they actually choose any of that?

In s2e8, Mace questions not just Lake's existence, but the entire existence of the mirror world, implying that their memories and personalities are as artificial as their bodies, constructs created by the train to teach a passenger a lesson. He drives the questions at Lake, but the same reasoning could be applied to him. Did Mace become a flec after his prime died, or are those memories fake, and he was always a flec, created by the train to be a villain in a little morality play for Tulip's & later Jesse's benefit? Did Mace ever really have the choice to be anything other than the monster he was? And even if he did, would that absolve the train of a measure of guilt in creating Mace to be that monster in the first place? Did the train intend for him to catch and kill Lake after Tulip & Jesse had returned home, cleaning up loose ends? One One seemed to jump at the chance to let Lake off the train once her trick of reflecting Jesse's number provided an adequate excuse, but before that he also seemed perfectly willing to go with Sieve's suggestion of resolving the conflict by just killing her.

Again, that’s not to say the flecs didn’t deserve their fates, or that it was wrong of Lake to kill them. Mace in particular questioned the entire purpose and reality of the mirror world, which means he had the self awareness and philosophical insight needed to question and reject the role the train had created him for, and even while dying he instead chooses to use that insight as just another way to vindictively deny Lake’s person-hood. He chooses to be every bit the monster he was created to be, and Sieve makes the same choice even seeing the fate that it led Mace to. They didn’t “deserve better”, but them choosing to embrace their predetermined villainous roles doesn’t reduce the train’s accountability for creating them to fill those roles in the first place.

So yeah, Trauma Train is a fantastic show - imo s2 is still the best, but s1 and s3 are both very solid. But within that show the train itself is a dangerously negligent therapist and a willfully unjust deity, and if Infinity Train does get future seasons I hope that aspect gets further explored and deconstructed. And I think it will be. Like, I don’t think any of this analysis is an unintended edgy dark reading for the heck of it. Season one could have left you with a neutral or positive impression of the train, but the fundamental systemic injustice of the train is, like, the explicit text of season 2, and while Lake managed to trick her way free, the underlying system she fought to free herself from is still in place in season 3.

That said, I kind of hope one way or the other that the show is done with grizzly on-screen deaths. There's a lot of good lessons for kids in the show, important stuff about handling life changes, dealing with grief, the importance of self identity & self determination. And much like the train is a bad therapist for trying to traumatize its victims into self improvement, the show becomes a bad vehicle for the lessons it's trying to teach if the scenes of shocking violence are what stick most firmly in younger viewers memories.

#infinity train #spoilers #infinity train spoilers #call out post #for a fictional mass transit system

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mlpdestinyverse · 4 years ago

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“One November Eve”

One stormy eve, when Dream Flow mysteriously doesn't show for their meet up, Skychaser heads to his friend's home to find out what's keeping her. What he discovers isn't quite what he expected.

Feat. Skychaser, Dreamaria Flow

Related Chapters: Little Monster, Newcomer, Impasse

~Destinyverse Archive~

Skychaser isn't usually one to fuss when it comes to Dream Flow's occasional tendency to arrive late to their hangouts.

He's long accepted it as an on-and-off habit of hers, oversleeping or losing track of time. It's not like they've ever been in a rush, so it's never truly bothered him. Besides, it's easy to imagine her getting caught up in a busy, tiring schedule as an Emotion Counselor.

The latest he can remember her ever arriving was about thirty minutes past their designated time, and even then she came to him apologizing profusely before insisting on treating him to make up for the tardiness. He can tell that she's since made a more conscious effort to be more punctual, despite his assurance that he really doesn't mind.

An hour and twenty-two minutes late...now that's just plain out of character.

It's nearing 6 PM now, and it won't be long before they'll have to officially reschedule their sauna day for another time. Sky is still sitting at a cafe table, tapping his hoof against the wooden surface, the vibrations causing his long empty cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream to shake.

He'd been looking forward to relaxing within the embrace of hot steam on a chilly autumn day. More so than that was his eagerness to behold Dream's first heavenly sauna experience, as a mare who apparently had never even known of their existence until a week ago. She had mirrored his excitement, giving him a date where she'd be completely free. But that's all quickly becoming rather trivial compared to his growing bewilderment.

'Did she go on a last-minute errand run?? What is going on?'

It's only when a large droplet of rain nearly jabs his eye that he knows that the fall thunderstorm Ponyville ordered for the sake of building atmosphere towards Nightmare Night has begun. And it's at that moment that Sky knows he has a time limit before the rain starts pouring. So with a frown, he swiftly makes his way to a new location...

By the time he's in front of the door to Dream's house, the boughs of leafless trees have begun groaning and Sky's thick mane might as well be mauling his face, thanks to the whipping winds. Honestly, if it wasn't for the sheer absurdity that was the concept of being "stood up" by Dream of all ponies, he would have thought to arrive sooner to check on his friend. But looking at the house, the windows are completely absent of any light, and that becomes even more prominent with the darkening grey sky above him as the sun dips away and the clouds prepare to-

-drench him. Just...all at once. A waterfall-like sheet of rain crashes onto him, and he hisses a curse as he instinctively tries for the doorknob, despite knowing it won't open.

Except it does, and Skychaser has to blink a few times at that.

'Guess she went out and...forgot to lock it behind her...?'

A flash of lightning and Sky all but scrambles inside and shuts the door before the accompanying boom of thunder can deafen him.

As he enters the threshold, and his eyes adjust to the brief lightning flash followed by the interior darkness, he almost swears a separate faint light catches the edge of his vision. But it's gone before he can fully acknowledge it, and it leaves his mind as soon as he winces at the booming thunderclap.

"Hokay then..." Sky mutters. He shrugs off his hoodie and hangs it on the nearby coat rack. Having visited Dream's house numerous times before, finding and flicking on the closest light switch isn't too difficult. The warm lighting reveals the large, decently furnished living room he's grown quite accustomed to, as a place to spend time with his friend as well as a safe space for a few of their counseling sessions together: television and couch set up to the left, first-floor bathroom to the right, her open kitchen towards the very back, next to the polished curving staircase... "Wait for Dreamers it is..."

At least, he hopes Dream isn't still trying to make it to their sauna day. Once she realizes he's not at their meeting spot, she'll either look for him at the Cutie Mark Sanctuary if only to frantically apologize like the sweet doof she is, or she'll make the better call and head back home in this weather.

Unless she's forgotten their plans entirely. Then well...at the very least, she'll absolutely return straight home and they'll figure it out from there.

'Unless...an emergency...?'

Sky vigorously shakes the worrisome thought out of his head, only to flinch and curse again when water droplets fly everywhere and cling to the nearby wall. This isn't the time to go into Anxious-Brother-Mode™ when he should be hunting down a towel unless he wants to create a puddle in the middle of Dream's living roo- oh, a puddle's already forming, goddammit.

He carefully maneuvers himself towards Dream's towel closet on the right-most wall, right beside her bathroom door. But he sighs and gives up midway on tip-toeing when he realizes he's leaving a trail of rainwater anyway, making a faster beeline for it. Without pause he yanks it open and pulls out a fluffy towel with cute little sea motifs, aggressively drying his cursed sponge-like mop of hair; the true perpetrator of the puddles...a symbol of freedom and majesty now fallen from grace. For shame.

He sighs with relief once he feels sufficiently...less wet, albeit his feathers are sticking in almost every direction and his inner pegasus shrieks at him to preen- which, speaking of, is it weird to preen in your friend's house when they're not there?

Shower Thoughts with Skychaser.

Sky lets the towel hang around his neck and grins to himself over his dumb mental joke- but upon closing the closet door fully, something he hadn't noticed before immediately greets him.

A single orange sticky note, attached to the door at eye level.

He's genuinely confused at first, but once his eyes flit over the words written on it in black marker, he near-instantly recalls the counseling session he'd shared with Dream not even a month ago. In this very living room, funnily enough:

"Sticky Note Affirmations" she had called it, suggesting it to him like many other forms of therapy they've given a go through the course of their friendship. He remembers her explaining it as a method of using positive affirmations in one's daily life, to "move the mind away from persistent negative thoughts" and "set in a more positive way of thinking".

"Positivity takes practice!" he can practically still hear the confidence in Dreamaria's voice from that day, her beaming face forming in his mind. "We may be our own worst critic, Sky, but we're also the one person in life who can be our most faithful supporter. So try cheering your future self on!"

It sounded a little silly at first, the idea of sticking notes around his room and expecting them to do anything. Dream Flow did say the results varied for everyone.

Now, Sky has a small collection of post-it notes that have given him just the slightest boost needed to help deviate that self-deprecating corner of his mind; more often than not, at least. Who knew that reading something as simple as "I Am Worthy" on his bedroom door every morning could make a difference in his outlook for the day? He sure didn't.

But maybe Dream being the source of the idea made her feel a little present within each of his notes, believing in him just as much as he was encouraging himself.

Dream specifically offered the idea of writing down kind compliments for himself. There were also reminders and encouragements for daily tasks, saved for the heavier days where such chores often felt impossible or pointless. Now one particular note near his comb encourages him to brush his mane each day because otherwise, he'll deal with knots that resemble a pile of tangled earbud cords - or worst...Astral Dusk's spikes - and risk shaving it all off in frustration (Monochrome would have a field day).

Anyway, that aside, the note on Dream's towel closet reminds him of that sort of encouragement:

"Because a hot shower organizes thoughts and helps warm the soul!" it motivates, in curvy writing that he definitely recognizes as Dream's.

It shouldn't be a surprise that Dreamaria would practice her own suggestions, maybe to test the effectiveness for herself; but at the same time, how effective could testing it be? In his friend's case it felt hilariously redundant, like a mere flashlight's beam merging in with an already blinding sunray of optimism. Or...something. He's not as poetic with words and comparisons as Eventide.

Point is, the living embodiment of positivity just setting up more positive inspiration for her "future self" is incredibly funny to him and wholesomely endearing.

Skychaser backs his way into the middle of her living room, bumping up near Dream's couch there, and gives the room a good squint - and to his delight, his eye catches the pastel colors of more sticky notes dotting the mare's kitchen.

Well, at least he has something to distract himself with while he waits on Dream Flow. And if there's anypony he'd love to read some encouraging wisdom from, it'd have to be the counselor herself.

So he starts at one end and slowly saunters through her kitchen space, from one note to the next, feeling his grin and amusement growing with each one.

"Because an uncluttered sink helps with an uncluttered mind!" a pink note above her sink declares, where a few glasses and plates have been left to sit.

"Use me! Because you've come so far as a cook, and I exist for a reason!" the green note on her spotless stovetop-oven all but shouts.

"Because your body deserves nourishment, and Uncle wants you to eat well. Don't forget to keep a full fridge!" one blue sticky note insists on her refrigerator. Skychaser slyly opens the freezer door to better gauge the sorts of things his friend prefers to indulge in, for the noble cause of future birthday bashes (he genuinely half expects a compartment full of ice cream). His eyebrows fly up when he sees it's empty besides a tray of ice cubes.

'She REALLY must have gone out for some serious grocery shopping, geez...'

Now that he thinks about it, it's curious, really. Because while Dream's session on the notes had been held a month ago, Skychaser had visited just a week before and he's certain these little reminders hadn't been present that day. But the folded corners and slight creases on the notes suggest that they aren't recent either...?

Huh. Weird.

Sky hears the rain audibly thrum harder on the roof. He glances at the door, then at the time on her microwave.

6:42. Still no Dreamaria.

Hooves clacking across the tiles, Skychaser turns to leave the kitchen. In an effort to set aside his uncertainty, he considers what distractions he could find on Dream's T.V. That is until he finds himself pausing by the kitchen island.

Skychaser now notices that amongst a clutter of unopened mail envelopes, a single letter has been left out. Were it not for the rather official-looking white and blue mailer with a broken gold wax seal, or the fancy thick yellow parchment of the letter itself, Skychaser would have overlooked it.

He fights with himself, eyes flicking back and forth between the rest of the living room and the strange letter just...laying there.

...his need for answers wins over. Because surely a small glimpse and the quickest skim just to understand the subject of such an out-of-place letter couldn't hurt. It just may be the very clue he's been seeking as to the whereabouts of his friend.

'An emergency', his mind supplies nervously again, the feeling intensifying when he picks out on the envelope's face that the mailing address is from Reinsford; Dreamaria's hometown.

'Yeah, that's not comforting...'

So sure enough, he sets his now-folded towel onto the counter and leans over the parchment, giving the sentences a quick once-over. He searches for names, keywords, the last line of the letter-

He stops.

He reads the last line again. Then a third time, his eyes widening with each reread.

'Hold the fuck on, am I-?'

Sky swoops the letter up into his wings. He squints harder, darting his orange irises back to the beginning. Because maybe context would confirm whether he's crazy or he just read what he thinks he just read.

"Dear Madam Dreamaria Flow,

I hope this package and its contents have found you in good health.

It has been a lengthy two years since your departure from our beloved coasts. Your absence has been profoundly felt by your fellow residents and myself, even to this very day.

While I would not dare to take up more of your time than necessary, I first wish to extend my deepest apologies for not reaching out to you sooner. Your uncle has shared a tale or two of your exploits in Ponyville, and though I am sure you have found success and a great sense of fulfillment in your new career - a hearty congratulations to you, may I add! - I have felt that a hefty debt was left unpaid the day you left this town.

It is only right that I follow through on my word. It took some time, but after vowing to properly reward you for your unforgettable deed, I am happy to announce that I have made great use of my authority to finally deliver:"

Halfway through the letter, the storm outside gives another bright flash of lightning, followed seconds later by a booming crack of thunder that almost shakes the air. A barely present corner of his mind registers something...slightly different about it; like a subtle sparking undercurrent of sound had joined in for just a second. But right now he's focused on this letter, too immersed in speed-reading the sentences to consider it as anything but a one-off:

"Enclosed is your very own Reinsford-sanctioned Certification of Arcane Excellence. Please do brandish this certificate with pride as a prior member of Reinsford's community. I believe such high credentials could prove useful and bode well if presented and proven to Princess Twilight Sparkle herself.

While losing someone as gifted and valuable as yourself thoroughly saddens us, we are quite pleased knowing our talented Dreamaria is still putting her skills to good use.

Remember that this town will always be your home. It has been far too long since we have last seen you. Never hesitate to visit, and if anything goes wrong, know that we will gladly welcome you back with open arms."

And then finally, he reaches that line again. Except he isn't sure if context has at all changed the amount of bewilderment and awe his discovery has brought him.

"Nonetheless, Reinsford will continue to miss its - official, as of this letter - dear Wizard, and its citizens whole-heartedly wish you well with your personal endeavors.

With gratitude, Mayor Bight"

A thunderclap of merciless lightning shatters the sky, and in that very instant, darkness falls around him.

The blackout startles Skychaser enough that he drops the letter and braces against the kitchen island with a soft yelp. He's thankful that the nearby streetlamp is managing to stream in just enough light through the windows to allow him the vaguest visual of his surroundings; shapes and desaturated colors and shadows, more than anything.

But now there is an eerie, deafening silence, with the background whirring of every appliance coming to a complete hush. The rain, the slightest shifts of his body, and his breath are suddenly much louder, almost reverberating through the room.

Whatever sense of confusion and wonder over Dream's letter has momentarily fizzled out, replaced by goosebumps and an immense sense of vulnerability. He feels small and uneasy - a single breathing body in an expanse of black and greys.

'Maybe I've uh...outstayed my welcome... If preening in your friend's empty house is weird, standing around for them in the darkness of their home may deserve a restraining order.'

He'll just have to table his questions and intrigue for another day, as exasperating as it is to have even fewer answers now than before.

For the sake of his boggled mind, he settles that Dream is out shopping. Or doing awesome-secret-wizard-shit, if this letter and her disappearance aren't just some strange, elaborate prank Dreamaria has set up just for him. Unlikely, yeah, but he's also learned that Dream Flow is pretty up there in terms of surprise factor.

Maybe he'll see enough faces on his way back to the Sanctuary to ask around about his friend. But before that, if he wants to even make that journey, he decides that a borrowed umbrella might be a good idea right about now. Or ooh, a cute, tiny raincoat he can drape over his head as he elegantly races through the streets before ducking underneath an awning and meeting his soulmate? Surely Dream had one or the other around somewhere.

The attempt to lighten his own mood somewhat works as he's able to blindly locate her letter, replace it on the counter, and urge himself forward through the low lit room. The air has been quick to drop temperature without its heating unit, only adding to the strangely oppressive atmosphere.

Thankfully the street light bounces off of the far wall - the one he had previously borrowed his towel from - preventing him from running face-first into it. If he's remembering right, and he traces the wall towards those curving stairs in the back corner...

The wall stops short. Tucked into the large alcove that follows, he finds his sought-after mystery door right near the foot of the stairs.

While aware of its existence, he admittedly has never seen the room's interior nor ever had a reason to check it out. He's only ever assumed it to be some sort of coat closet, so naturally, any form of raincoat or umbrella would surely be stored within. Most likely??

But as he steps up to the door, all too ready to prepare for his leave, he yet again is brought to a halt. He makes out a familiar small square shape in this shadowed corner of the house, attached to the door a little higher than the usual eye level.

'Oh. Even here?'

He almost chooses to ignore the sticky note with his priorities at hoof. But something about it draws his eye - and he realizes that, even in this lighting, he can faintly make out words. It's due to the writing itself, displaying neat and meticulous letters, as opposed to the other affirmations that were more hastily scrawled.

'"Because"..."you"...?'

Sky has to lean in until the bridge of his scrunched muzzle is just inches away from the note. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, so he's able to read the bleeding inky words:

"Because you'll prove them wrong."

.....

Skychaser allows himself a moment to give the note a good, long stare.

Maybe it's due to his current circumstances: the storm, the week of Nightmare Night, Dream's absence, standing alone inside a dark, deathly still building on a cold November eve. But the sharp change in tone from Dreamaria's previous notes definitely forces Sky to acknowledge just how unsettled he feels.

One step back and he's boring his visible eye into the closet door before him. That eye then falls to its silver door handle.

...this....is a closet that he just found that note on. Right?

Sky very quietly, very weakly laughs to himself. He moves to turn the handle before he can overthink it.

'Maybe this is where Dream keeps all the dead bodies.' he jests, pushing the door open a sliver.

It creaks under his hesitant grasp. With that crack, Sky notices a light source within, out of sight, in a room bigger than he honestly pictured; faint. Orange. ...pulsating?

BANG!

Sky releases an indecipherable shout right as the door in his grasp SLAMS back in place in one explosive movement. He stumbles backward but he doesn't get far, because in a whirlwind there are glowing blue lights flying around him in literal ribbons, erupting from the floor, grabbing him, coiling around him so rapidly that he doesn't get a chance to even unfurl his wings as he rears up, because now they're being tied to his back and his forelegs are bound up securely against his chest-

He's lifted, hoisted right off the ground and jostled about in the process of being turned. At this point he's stopped thrashing and has kept his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth painfully clenched. Upon the movements stopping, he cracks his eyes open to look down at himself.

Instead, his irises flash to his lower left, where the end of one ethereal ribbon is gradually creeping around his neck without actual contact: a silent threat. He can't control the pitifully strangled noise he lets out, desperately leaning his head as far away as possible, which isn't far at all.

'What the fuck, what the FUCK, I WAS FUCKING JOKING-'

He would be breaking down into hysterical laughter right about now if he wasn't so shaken. The only reason he hasn't entered a full-blown panic is that the ribbons have completely ceased their motions, and while tight, it's not enough to restrict his breathing. He's fine. He's okay.

Look at him. Those positive thinking exercises have been working...haha. ...coping with humor at a time like this probably isn't the healthiest, though, even if it's working to keep his sanity intact.

Maybe it's not fully hitting him. It all feels too unreal, like some realistic fever dream-

Violently swishing fabric rolls through his ears next, too pitched and harsh to be born from his imagination. Skychaser jolts, because in a single blink, the safe beams of the streetlight filtering in from each of the house's windows have been cruelly snuffed out. The curtains have all been pulled shut in one sweep. He's been left in true, absolute pitch darkness.

And then he sees it.

A set of white, glowing pinpricks of light, waiting in the shadows straight ahead.

Staring right back.

Watching him. Sky registers that this is real.

Body and throat seized up in terror, he doesn't even scream. He can't find his voice, only listening to his own labored breathing while those two glows eerily sway and grow closer. He catches the sound of slow, careful steps. Hoofclacks.

As his mind processes, the glowing orbs stop just outside of the light from his radiant restraints.

And they speak.

"...state your business."

The voice is low. Soft and husky, yet it carries in the quiet amongst a backdrop of rain. It's formal, frigid, and completely foreign to him.

Skychaser shivers.

"I-I..." he struggles out, his own voice hoarse but miraculously coherent despite his scrambled brain. "I was...l-looking-"

He snaps his mouth close when he hears a sharp inhale in front of him. It's followed by a much gentler, far more familiar tone.

"...Skychaser?"

Sky's eyes bug open, only for him to cringe away when a flash of light nearly blinds him. He blinks against it anyway, urging his pupils to focus in on-

Dream Flow.

The tip of her horn is illuminated with a small beacon of magical light - a beacon that closely resembles whatever the hell she's done to her pupils, filled at the centers with the very pinpricks of white that had shaken him previously.

The unicorn looks thoroughly dumbfounded. Wide-eyed, mouth open, head pulled back. When she seemingly confirms his identity for herself, her eyebrows knot even further.

"...you're...my intruder?" she slowly sounds out. "How did you...why are you here?"

Sky's remaining brain cell has long fizzled out by now, so he sputters at first before he exclaims back;

"Me?? I came here looking for you! You didn't show for our sauna meet! Where in Equestria have you been?!"

Cogs seem to turn in his friend's head for a few seconds before realization settles in.

"Oh." She murmurs, blinking owlishly at him. "That...yes. You're right. I...oh..."

More beats of silence pass. Sky shifts uncomfortably in the ribbons' grasp. Before he can even ask, the motion has Dream breaking out of her stupor. As if just realizing the state he's in, dismay flickers across her face. And yet she lets out a laugh, one he can only describe as stressed in this context.

"Oh Celestia, what a horrible...horrible misunderstanding!"

With a blue spark of her horn, Skychaser watches as the magical ribbons begin to shimmer and dissolve away, gently lowering him down as they do. He turns his head about at the rather pretty display, with sparkles left behind in the spell's wake before those dissolve in thin air too. Skychaser doesn't get to admire for long as he clumsily has to catch himself with his front hooves those final few inches to the floor.

He shoots her a perplexed look, but he doesn't think she sees it, because she's too busy aiming a secondary laugh at the floor. In his gut, he has the distinct impression that she doesn't actually find this humorous. Not with the way her shoulders have gone rigid.

"I am...so terribly sorry, Skychaser. I genuinely thought someone had broken into my house and...well, I was prepared for a confrontation!"

"I noticed!" he wheezes out, half-exasperated, half-jokingly. "You also look ready to shoot lasers out of your eyes, and I nearly peed myself because of it."

Dream winces, then squeezes her eyes and sets her horn sparking blue again. When she reopens them - thank God - her actual pupils have returned. The spectrum of colors in them are discernable again too - downcast, he discovers that the azure in her irises appears more pronounced. Or maybe it's the low lighting.

"They say intimidation leaves an impression," she quips, the corner of her mouth barely quirking up. She's still not looking at him. "Guess it worked, huh?"

Sky mouth pulls down into a deep frown, his gaze roaming over his friend. Dream's blue mane is unusually unkempt from what he's used to. The mare's form hasn't even moved an inch from its tight, almost closed off stance in the past minute or two - a significant contrast to the conversational cadence of her voice.

He doesn't think he's ever seen Dream so...physically withdrawn before. In a way, it was understandable in the aftermath of what's looking more and more like one very awkward, very startling mix-up. But it's also not like she hurt him.

"Hey, Dreamers, it's okay. You freaked me out, sure, but I'm WAY more relieved to see you. I was starting to think something serious happened."

Shortly afterward, Dream finally meets his eye, but only to offer a sad smile.

"I apologize for that! It seems I just..."

"Overslept?" Sky grins humorously, only to pause when Dream's expression dips into guilty. "Wait what?"

"I'd only meant to close my eyes for an hour or two at most-" she confesses, glancing up towards her stairs. "-and take a short rest before meeting up. But the murky weather must have lulled me." A chuckle bubbles out of her and she shakes her head. "I think my sleepy haze made me forget everything else once a 'threat' entered the picture. But that's no excuse. I won't let something this careless happen again, I promise."

Sky rubs his forehead. Not because he has a headache, but because the small puzzle pieces he now possesses are struggling to mash together. "So...you were actually upstairs? This whole time?"

Dream nods. "Yes, I woke up when..." Her eyes trail over towards the front door.

She goes quiet. Almost as soon as that answer fades out, another question begins. "....Sky, how did you get in anyway?"

"Your door was unlocked...?" he provides, letting the question in his tone voice his own confusion. "Which I thought was weird."

Dream answers with a short, disbelieving laugh. "Oh wowy! Seems I didn't lock it behind me when I got the mail today..." she breathes out a sigh. "I'm glad you got out of the storm, but I'll need to be more mindful."

Mail.

An opening presents itself to him. A way to find answers and ease tension, he hopes, as his buried intrigue and curiosity rises from the depths.

"Hey, don't sweat it! But I gotta say...that was a preeetty cool trick you did back there," A knowing grin spreads across his face, and he leans his head forward with a conspirational whisper. "Miss Wizard~"

Dreamaria doesn't respond right away. It takes her one steady beat before she slowly turns her head back towards him.

A blank stare greets him.

"...what?"

"You're a Wizard, Dreamy!" he chirps, bouncing between his hooves. "Congratulations! Even I couldn't believe it when I spotted your letter, but all that fancy-shmancy magic you did sure confirms it." He taps his hoof to his chin, humming playfully. "It sounds like you've had a bunch of snazzy spells up your sleeve for a while! Why'd you never-"

He's so lost in his giddy mental world of excitement and thrill that he almost misses the way Dream stiffens. Almost.

Because her smiles are gone now.

"You...read my letter."

It's less of a question and more a statement she's allowing to sink in. Caught off guard by her abrupt monotonous tone, he finds himself self-conscious in his reply.

"Yeah it was...lying on the counter, and I thought it could be a...clue...but um..."

With each word, Sky begins to recognize the breach of privacy he had committed and how weak of an excuse he really had to snoop on a clearly personal letter. Even if it felt justified at the time. It's his turn to wince guiltily. "Yeah no that...sounds pretty bad actually."

Dream doesn't react, gazing back vacantly in a way she's never done before. It makes him retract a hoof, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. "...Dream?"

She inhales, almost painstakingly slow and deep. The breath is held for a few seconds longer.

Then, after an exhale that's just as prolonged, the smallest smile ghosts across her muzzle.

"I see. You were worried and it just kind of happened. Right? I'm the one who left it out and created this whole mess. So really, it's my own fault."

What? Sky insistently shakes his head. "No way, it's your house. I should've held off...I'm sorry."

Dream reaches out to touch his shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Apology accepted! What's done is done, eh~?"

Uncertainty lingers despite himself; to think he managed to elicit that response, out of Dream, which made it undeniably that much more nervewracking. Regardless, Skychaser wills himself to relax.

How Dream can consistently be that quick to forgive will remain out of his realm of understanding. Good thing, too...he didn't think he could handle impairing one of his most cherished friendships all because of his own ever-present idiocy.

"...can I ask...??"

Sky's a little dubious on where to put his footing down from here, but he trusts Dream enough to be forthright with him about where her lines lie. Thankfully the corners of the mare's eyes crinkle back cordially.

"Yes, Sky?" she invites.

"...does that mean you're like that one guy?" He leans back in, side-mumbling to her. "Star Whirl the Bearded or whatever-"

Dream laughs, loud and hearty. "OH, heavens no! Starswirl was an arcane prodigy. I'm nothing like that." Dream Flow turns away from Sky to walk towards her front door. Curious, Skychaser follows after her. "In fact, despite what that letter claims, I'm not a Wizard."

"What?" Sky laughs out, shooting the back of her head a doubtful raise of his brow. "But they gave you-"

She smiles back at him over her shoulder, serenely closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I'm not a Wizard. Being a Wizard suggests that I'm some grand expert who plays with different fields of magic for a living! I'm just an Emotion Counselor who happens to have some extra prior study on the side." For some reason she begins to glide an absentminded hoof against the carved wood of the doorframe. "Reinsford legally naming me their pet Wizard doesn't change that."

...pet? "Now excuse me for a second!" Dream says, aiming her horn towards the entrance. "I really need to reset this before the mental buzzing gives me a headache."

Her horn illuminates - an odd mismatch of bright blue with tinges of her magic's usual orange - and Skychaser gapes as the unassuming decorative markings carved into the door's wooden frame begin to light up brightly, one by one, until it's covered with these glowing elaborate lines and shapes completely unfamiliar to the pegasus. Dream turns back to him, coaxing him with a nudge of her head towards the display.

"If you don't mind, Skychaser, could you please touch one of these runes? If I add in your magic signature, we won't have to worry about another silly mishap."

Sky has literally no idea what any of that means. But Dream looks composed and attentive, so he follows her instructions. This "rune" he touches brightens, casting a warm halo of white light around his hoof. Then it all fades away, dimming the room back to just Dreamaria's light spell.

He glimpses at the unicorn and takes in the unexpectedly soft way she's looking at him.

"...thank you for trusting me." She expresses with warmth, placing a hoof over her chest in some form of relief.

"I mean yeah, always, but that was...?"

Dream perks up. There's a playfulness to her demeanor as she casually shrugs.

"A magical alarm. Just in casies. You activated my runes when you walked in," she giggles. "That's what alerted me and woke me up! But now that I've included you into the formula, you're my trusted exception. No more false alarms if something like this manages to happen again."

Okay. Sky's mind is officially boggled.

"Wait, so you're over here trying to convince me that you're NOT a Wizard-" He gestures incredulously at the door. "But you can do crazy shit like that?!"

Her ears twitch back, enough to catch his attention. Just like that, she's back to averting her gaze.

"Ah...this isn't as complicated as it looks, actually!" Dream defends cheerfully, strain returning to the smile she's wearing. "The initial set up was more tedious if anything. But I appreciate the compliment!"

With that, she strides away from the front door and back into the house, presumably towards her kitchen. However, her attitude regarding the subject bugs him. It's not like he knows much about unicorn history and titles and whatnot, but still...

"I thought being called a Wizard would be like...the highest honor for a unicorn or something." He scratches his head, a little embarrassed over his own lack of knowledge. "So I guess I'm not getting why you're..."

"Being called a wizard is a compliment to a unicorn's abilities." Dream supplies for him, slowing her gait to a halt. She turns her head without facing him, choosing to speak into the air instead. "Being named a Wizard is different...just something silly they began labeling me one day." More jovial laughter shakes her shoulders. "It was a little much! So Ponyville became my home of choice."

Despite her light-hearted, almost whimsical tone, Sky's ability to read body language doesn't fail him. He sees tension retake her frame.

"So you don't want to be one." Sky notes with a frown, eyebrows pulled back. Hooves clacking against the hardwood floor, he stops just beside her to brush a soothing wing against her shoulder; something he realizes he's never had to do, because comfort has only ever been given the other way around. "Too much pressure?" He prompts quietly.

Dream Flow is staring off, a distant look on her face. There's a slight shift to her jaw.

"I...don't have time to..."

She's deep in thought. Contemplative. Choosing her words carefully as she lowers her head to one side.

"...humor their fantasy of me."

A tense silence follows, along with a creeping feeling of personal familiarity. Sky tries to work a response through his mind, but he doesn't get enough time to when Dream's gently pushing his wing away and beaming up at him. "But never mind that. This weather must be doing things to me. It's not like me to put a damper on the mood! I've never been the biggest fan of rain."

"It's not a damper..." Sky tries, because really, when has Dream ever opened up to him like this? It's never even crossed his mind that she even had things to open up about, as stupid as that was.

But it's clear to him that Dream's finished, with the way she holds up a hoof and how the curve of her lips eases. "I wouldn't want anypony getting the wrong idea about me here either, actually. So I hope we can keep this between us? No more ‘Dream the Magical Wizard'?"

Dream drops her pitch a few decimals just to exaggerate the title, and it's so out of the blue that it wins her a short laugh from him. "Of course." Sky answers without hesitation. If she's shared all she's willing to, enough to return to her usual self, he won't push it. That's how she's always been when it came to him, after all. "You're just 'Dreamers the Dork" to me."

A grin breaks across Dream's face at that. "I like that better, actually."

"Ooooh no, don't say that, or else I'll start greeting you like that. Everywhere we go."

Dream giggles and continues her trek to the kitchen with Sky in tow. He now sees that she's heading towards that little area directly beneath her stairway; a side room to her kitchen used for her laundry appliances.

...memory swears that the folding doors to this room were closed earlier.

"Okay, let's fix this..." she hums and steps into the crowded space, leaving Sky standing at the threshold. He never identified it until now, writing it off as some random metallic plate on the back wall, but Dream Flow snaps it open and reveals it to be a door to a breaker box.

Confused, he's about to stop what should've been a futile attempt at bringing back power, but just like that, Dream flicks the top-most switch and the house comes back to life around him. Light refills the room, the microwave lets out a beep of relief, and Sky meanwhile is whipping his head back and forth between the main room and Dream herself.

"Wait, I thought the storm took out the power, how did you??"

"Oh, no." Dream grins sheepishly, gesturing towards the circuit breaker behind her. "That was all me."

Oh, how the surprises never cease with her. When did she even get downstairs to pull this stunt on him?

Well, she could teleport. But even that made noise. How he never heard her even once is-

Oh. Thunder.

"This was...one elaborate plan, Dream."

"That's true. But when you've never lived alone before, you sort of...end up a little paranoid." Dream rubs her foreleg shyly. "I saw lights on downstairs, sensed someone I couldn't even see walking around, and had no clue what they wanted. Naturally I assumed a break-in, so I took the necessary precautions to keep safe and take action."

If Sky didn't feel bad earlier, he's certainly feeling it now.

"Damn...didn't mean to scare ya, sis."

"That goes for two of us..." Dream Flow sighs dramatically. "Causing fear in you...I'd never wish for that again."

"Hey, I'm just glad it wasn't anything paranormal!" Sky exclaims, backing up to let Dream join him in the actual kitchen. When she does, though, she turns her head towards her appliances.

"...oh. Well this is embarrassing." She says, looking straight at one of her sticky notes. "These were meant to be private, but wow does this explain why my 'intruder' was so entertained by my kitchen."

Skychaser snickers. "Hey, I for one appreciated your wise words. I think it's cute that you're messing around with affirmations yourself."

Speaking of...that reminds him.

"I was wondering, Dream," Sky motions his head back towards the very space their face-off had played out. "What's that room by the stairs? I thought it was a coat closet, but..."

He trails off, wondering if Dream will catch on.

"Oh, that? That's just my private study! I've stored a bunch of very personal memories from Reinsford in there." She smiles. "I take it you read my note. It's basically a little reminder for myself to keep moving forward."

Ah. Move on from a town of expectations? That made enough sense to him. And he sure was glad all of the wild threads tonight were finally ending with answers.

"And like everything else, I can only guess that creepy orange glow was you too?" he teases. "I only got a glimpse, but it definitely was a distraction before everything broke loose."

Dream doesn't say anything at first, as if waiting for him to continue or deliver some punch line. When he doesn't elaborate she gives him an inquiring eyebrow raise and a tilt of her head. "Wait, what glow?"

Sky stops. Just in case, he searches Dream's face, but she looks sincerely clueless.

"The...one inside the study?" He provides, hoping for any sign of recognition. "Something was glowing, but it was faint and I couldn't see anything."

Dream looks taken aback. Eyes darting sharply towards the door in question, she gives it one disbelieving look.

"'Glowing'...?" she whispers breathily, and the goosebumps that had long faded away are now returning to Skychaser's pelt. He blanches.

"Oh Gods it wasn't you..." Sky tugs at his hair and makes some sort of makeshift curtain to hide half of his face behind. "Oh Gods, what was that then?!"

Dream's multi-colored orbs snap back to him. "A-ah! Well-" her voice carries a slight tremor, one she catches and visibly swallows down (as if that'll hide how she's just as freaked out as he is, she's not fooling him). Then she laughs it off, giving him a playful grin. "It's probably not ghosts?"

"Probably?!"

"It's more likely some old runic project of mine! Responding to the electrical energy in the storm." She waves her hoof towards the ceiling. On cue, a rumble of thunder reaches them. "Elemental conversion and all!"

"Lady, I still don't get your magic talk, but if you say so..." He heaves out a breath. "Anything but ghosts...or dead bodies."

Dream gives him a quizzical look at that last comment, but apparently decides against asking. "Well hey! You know what'll lighten the mood?" Dream claps her hooves together, eyes glittering now. "The storm won't stop for another hour or two. So it's time for me to begin making it up to you, starting with a movie night! I still have popcorn in the cupboard and plenty of soda~"

Sky squints at her from behind his mane-wall.

"...'Dogs Don't Dance'?"

"A classic." Dream nods sagely.

"And you'll restock your dang empty freezer first thing?"

"Whoops...don't worry! I'll stop slacking and do that tomorrow~"

Skychaser carries himself to the DVD storage shelf her television sits on. It's thankfully on the literal opposite side of the room from Dream's private study, a place he's sure he'll now associate with tension and spooks after the events of the day. Keeping away is proobably for the best, especially right now. Because reassured or not, the pegasus doesn't think he'll be completely shaking off his jitters tonight. A scary movie would probably do him in at this point.

Dream must be experiencing something similar, because after tapping the popcorn setting on her microwave, he sees her lean against the counter and restlessly gaze off towards that very door behind him. Warding off any surprise demons with her magic stare, he hopes.

But enough jokes. He leaves Dream to it, turning his full undivided attention on the vital task of sifting through DVD cases and finding his favorite comfort movie of jiving animated dogs. They both probably need it.

_________________________________________________________ This...this is a dense chapter and I'm kind of living.

I'm so curious to know what theories and thoughts people have drawn from it, so don’t be afraid to hyper-analyze. Nothing brings me greater joy... I recently fell in love with a few different writing styles and decided to play around with it myself here! I had a lot of fun with it, HEHEH. These probably constitute a whole separate lore upload, but for now, below will be a list of headcanons on Wizards in Destinyverse! For those interested!

-----------------------

Wizard/Sorcerer/Sorceress are all synonymous and are used based on preference. “Wizard” is the go-to gender-neutral term of the three.

The title of “Wizard” has altered throughout time. In pre-Equestrian days, when the Unicorns were all competing to understand magic and develop their power and prestige, the original Unicorn Royal Family were quick to employ the most powerful and innovative mages as advisors. These were the first Wizards - they were gifted high societal status and became the first nobles, whose wealthy descendants still live in the uppercrust of Canterlot to this day.

Thereafter, Wizardry became a profession that certified one’s expertise and allowed a unicorn to work alongside the most prestigious spellcasters and researchers (sometimes working for the crown, but not always). Aspiring Wizards then only earned their own title if they were lucky enough to have their talents acknowledged by the royal family (in the special case of the mighty prodigy Starswirl himself), or by the authority of an existing Wizard (ie. the sorcerer Clover the Clever, first student of Starswirl the Bearded).

After the three pony tribes integrated into one society (and the Unicorn Royal Family abdicated for the reign of Celestia and Luna), unicorns stepped up in villages all across Equestria to offer magical consultation and arcane services to their fellow ponies. From time to time, an especially studied specialist with a wide range of knowledge would prove their skill or accomplish an incredible feat; thus began the practice of local governments certifying their very own Village Wizard for townsfolk to go to for any magical needs. Not all Village Wizards dedicated themselves to one singular town; in fact, it was considered an honor for a village’s Wizard to proudly represent their town and aid others across Equestria.

The decline of spellcrafting and spellcasting over the centuries has led to Wizards being few and far between. The desire to pass down arcane knowledge still exists, as seen with Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns; so these days, only those with a thirst for knowledge (or even rarer, the desire to pursue arcane advancement) study magic. Even fewer who graduate Celestia's school have gone on to become Wizards, either becoming professors at the princess' school or private tutors of upper-class Canterlot.

The modern Wizard is now defined as a certified practitioner of multiple fields of magic who is consulted for arcane services and/or researches for the sake of arcane advancement. Famous present day Wizards include!

Mage Meadowbrook and Mistmane (both once designated sorceresses of their respective villages). Meadowbrook was the very first non-unicorn to become a mage, and then named Sorceress for her potion-making and item-enchantments.

Starlight Glimmer (sorceress; professor at Twilight’s School of Friendship and occasional aid for Uni-Tech)

Sunset Shimmer (sorceress; royal scientist; founder of Uni-Tech who works for societal advancements in magitech)

Sunburst escapes the definition by a thin hair, due to not being an actual spellcaster or crafter. But he is a valuable magic advisor with his keen mind, and a proud member of Uni-Tech.

#mlp #mlp art #mlp oc #My Little Pony #Skychaser #Dreamaria Flow #destinyverse #story

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moonlightstars16 · 4 years ago

Text

A Brief Moment

It was the stereotypical Sporty Jock falls for the Nerdy Girl. Well sort of.

Steven Universe transferred at the beginning of the school year. While he wore varsity jackets and was on the baseball team, he normally just kept to himself. Was a friendly towards others? Definitely so. However after a certain incident involving a family secret, he became more cautious with who he allowed into his life. Even had meetings with the school counselor on occasion during his 'Study Hall'. Just to help keep him 'stable' from the haunting memories and traumatic experiences he went through. Though a lot was vague, these conversations helped him get out of his head. Soon he hardly had a need for it.

Connie Maheswaren was intelligent and excelled in all her classes. In fact she was not just intelligent but also athletic. In her own sort of way. Taking private fencing classes her parents signed her up for. She was a bit shy, but knew when to reach out and be there for others. Even if they were just strangers. Her compassion overflowed. However she also had a tendency to be a bit sassy when certain situations appeared. Just because she was a female, doesn't mean she was going to be treated like some 'toy'. It also helped to ignore the comments when she was so focused on a good book. Reading was more of an escape or a hobby. It was her life.

One day they met during theater class, a requirement for a passing grade. Connie assumed her role was apart of the tech crew. She knew her way around these things and thought it would've come in handy. However, when she landed the 'mysterious club singer' role in her audition(it was a play but had a couple numbers involved during the production), she was surprised beyond belief. She didn't even sing. Although the majority of this was purely in conversations so it was not impossible. Not the leading lady in it of itself but an important one none the less. Steven had landed the leading male role of course he fit the role perfectly. He seemed to be equally surprised but rolled with it naturally.

At one point he had come up to her after the class and asked for her help memorizing his lines. Connie had a small reputation for memorizing things in less than minutes. So it was only a matter of time before he asked. However he was new there and she understood the feeling of being 'a fish out of water'. Agreeing to help they met every day after school to work on homework and the play. During the time they grew closer and closer. Becoming friends much faster than the speed of light....well perhaps a bit less with a sort of rocky start. Still they became each others 'besties' and it was amazing.

Even having nicknames for each other. 'Biscuit', for Steven and 'Strawberry', for Connie. That was the snack they devoured on there first study session. It was a long day for them both and each were starved by the days end. After exchanging numbers and shared experiences with many of each others interests it became clear that the two were inseparable. Steven in return for her tutoring, helped her practice the song for the production. Connie was a bit nervous to sing around him, well anybody really. However she soon relaxed into it and even was surprised with how okay she sounded. Though Steven insisted she had an angelic voice.

The night of the production came and he gave her a quick squeeze of the hand three times for good luck before heading out onstage for his cue. Connie just breathed and cleared her mind and focused on becoming the character and leaving her old self behind for a moment. Just like in the rehearsals and private study sessions. To say the entire audience was captivated by her performance and his in the scene they shared together, was an understatement. Connie poured her all into the song and the scene. It truly felt like Steven's character was her 'Only Hope' in that moment. Or maybe it was the real Steven after all. Once she sat back down and finished her number, Connie wasn't expecting what happened next. Steven leaned over and gently pressed his lips onto hers.

That wasn't apart of the original script.

Improvisation works but this was completely by surprise. In fact they curtain came down ending the scene after the fact(was going to come down anyway after her song finished). Leaving them both staring at each other briefly. Utterly speechless as the darkness of the absent spotlight appeared. After that it was a bit awkward. Though not terrible. A small smile spread across her face moments after the kiss. Letting them both know that the feeling was mutual though a bit taken aback at the moment.

They agreed to sneak away from the cast party later that night to talk about it more. Connie went to change out of her beautiful costume into a long flowy skirt and beautiful blouse with a long sweater. A pair of black ballet flats were heavenly once out of those awful heels. Her hair was curled and came down just below the shoulders for her character and she decided to leave it as is. Just like her makeup. It was a tab more dramatic than normal but it was the theater and she didn't care. The party was in the gym and as she stepped out into the halls she was greeted with applause and flowers. But all that was all on her mind was the kiss. It made her a bit twitterpated from the moments so she didn't mind the attention that was given.

Until she entered the gymnasium. Everyone had eyes on her and she was confused as to why they were all looking at her and snickering. The confusion replaced her previous emotion as her gut told her something was off. One of her cast mates who seemed sad and looked with empathy, hesitantly pointed to the projector and what was being displayed on one huge side of the room. Connie turned and instantly everything around her seemed to stop. Her breathing became more jagged and her heart pounded in her ears.

Someone decided to use a dress rehearsal photo of her in all her makeup and hair. Photo shopping it onto a picture of a very scandalous woman showing off way more than the average swimsuit model. on the side it had a question in bold print. "Virgin Mary?" A nickname they used to tease her about being a 'goody-goody'. Now weighed more of an insult to her. It struck her right in the gut as she felt the tears gather in her eyes and the roaring laughter's deafening her ears. Gulping she raced out of the room as quick as she could. Tears blinded her so much that she didn't realize she bumped into Steven. Until she felt his familiar embrace and his calming voice.

"Woah! Woah, woah, hey..." Holding her shoulders and rubbing her arms gently he leaned closer to wipe the tears from her eyes. "What happened?" All Connie could do was shake her head and point to the gym. Covering her face as the utter shame she felt set in. Steven looked over her shoulder through the window and gasped at what he saw. Giving her a comforting squeeze on her shoulders he let go and slightly rushed into the gym. Connie walked afterwords and stopped right outside the door.

Seeing everything that happened through the windows. Steven punched a guy, named Kevin who apparently was behind all this, right into the tables and then turned off the projector. Destroying it in the process as the one girl, who gestured about the picture to Connie, gave Steven Kevin's laptop. Which he deleted the picture from existence before crushing the laptop in a sphere of sorts. Connie's hand went over her mouth for a moment as he walked back towards her and held a hand out for her own.

He took them to where the director and principal was before explaining everything. Steven being his honest self confessed what he had done. Connie waited outside after his confession, telling them all she needed some air. However being in the halls, feeling completely exposed as she walked towards a more secluded bathroom in the backstage theater. Looking at the mirror her face was truly messed up from her crying. Makeup smeared all over as her hair was a bit more humid looking since she didn't use that much hairspray.

Using some makeup wipe and face wash she removed all her makeup and cleaned herself up. But as she dried her skin, her eyes landed on her true self. The image of herself flashed through her mind. Was this how they thought of her truly? Even so it still hurt and she found herself gripping the skin, slowly kneeling to the ground as she bent over in shame. One hand gripping her arm the other trying to wipe away the tears that just kept coming.

It felt like hours as she sat there in the bathroom light. Crying her eyes out. That is until she felt once more the familiar pair of arms holding her close. Pulling her into an embrace as one hand stroked her hair and the other around her waist. They stayed like that until her sobs became nothing more than slightly hiccups and shaky breathing. Though she assumed it was from the dehydration she was slowly feeling. Steven handed her a water bottle since he figured she would need it. Connie couldn't even look at him yet. Or anybody after this entire ordeal. And just thirty minutes prior she was feeling amazing and in high spirits. Not she felt the rocks on the lowest she felt she could be at the moment.

"Let's get out of here." He whispered softly as she nodded in agreement. Helping her to her feet, he kept his arm around her and her hand in his free one. Quickly taking her in his Dondai supremo and playing calming music to help ease the tension. He drove her to his home, far away from the town and of course the school. Explaining what happened. How Kevin got everyone in on this awful idea of a prank. They were going to punish him greatly for it. And how he himself got suspended for a day for the punch and destroying of another persons property. "I don't care if they expelled me."

"Steven" Connie spoke up a bit softly than usual. He might not care but she did.

"Connie I would much rather know you are okay than my own education. Sure I will pay for the actions later but I would not ever change a thing." Pulling up into the driveway he turned the Dondai off and turned a bit more to face her. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Don't leave me alone...please..." Connie finally looked him in the eye after a brief moment of silence. Her voice a bit louder than before. "I-...I don't want to be alone right now..." Steven smiled, reaching out and gently caressed her cheek.

"I won't leave you alone. ...Not unless you want to be later." Connie nodded with a soft smile before feeling all the emotions rise within her and holding a hand over her mouth to keep from crying all over. Steven stepped out of the car and rushed to her side. Helping her down the Dondai steps before carrying her in his arms. All the way up to his home loft where the roof retracted so they could see the stars. Blankets, snacks, waters and hot coco(currently after he set her down on the couch bed). Both of them cuddled under the stars.

"How long?"

"How long what, Strawberry?"

"How long have you felt this way...for me." That last part she spoke a bit more softly.

"You still want to talk about it?"

"I rather keep my mind focused on other things right now... But even so, I do want to know."

"Okay.... I knew when we first began your voice lessons."

"So it was my voice?"

"Oh no- well it's part of it but it was because of your smile. You just seemed so happy with everything and so passionate in all that we discussed. I've never seen you so excited like that before. So full of happiness.... That's how it began. The more I saw of you being happy...the more I got to know the real you... I just... fell." They let his words sink in as the stars twinkled across the night sky.

"Steven...oh my gosh..." Connie exclaimed with a small giggle.

"There's the laugh I love to hear." He whispered kissed her forehead gently. Her head resting upon his chest as his arm secured her in his embrace.

"I figure you want to know how I feel?"

"Well I can wait till your ready."

"Well what if I told you that I am because I feel the same way. Except I-...I kinda need to confess this one thing before I do."

"Oh?"

"I kinda had a crush on you ever since I saw your audition. Also how you encourage the one before and after you during said time." She sighed and looked into his eyes. "Your friendly but in a way no one else can ever recreate. There's your own unique flair in every kind action you give. Never once did I see your pride or arrogance take over who you are. You are the real you... I love getting to know you as well."

"Ah... so that smile was a victory in the back of your mind?"

"I suppose you can call it that." They laughed briefly before sharing a moment of silence. "Steven...I-... There is not enough words to express how much I really am great full for everything you did tonight. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't-..." She could've even finish the thought as he held her tighter and she gripped onto him in the same fashion.

"Connie, I would do anything for you. I'm glad we became friends and....more..."

"So would I, I'm happy your in my life and our relationship we share. Can I stay with you for the night...please..."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." They talked more into the night until a certain question pulled them into the new reality, both realizing they now get to live together in.

So can I officially call you boyfriend Biscuit Steven?"

"As long as you allow me to call you girlfriend Strawberry Connie." They laughed once more at the cringe they both participated in. But the implications did not go unnoticed. Though the night was shadowed by the horrible event from earlier, their happiness for one another comforted them like the warm blanket they laid under. Falling asleep in each others loving embrace. Enjoying the moment of right now and for the happy days to come.

#connverse #connverse one shot #steven universe #steven universe future #steven and connie #stevenxconnie #connie maheswaran

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

Text

The Convenient Groom: 2/12

@spartanguard, here we have chapter two of your gift - the wedding! Some of you asked what sort of advice Emma would give as a relationship counselor, and this chapter gets into a little bit of that. More about it will be revealed as the story develops.I also realize there are a lot of logistical questions involved in the whole "switching grooms" thing, and while I get into some of it here, the rest will be explained in chapter three. I'm just trying to avoid long exposition or info dumps, so hang with me!

Summary: (Is one even necessary? Haha!) Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that.

Rating: M

Words: 4,000 and some change in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @kday426 @ohmakemeahercules@superchocovian @teamhook @bethacaciakay @distant-rose @welllpthisishappening @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @tiganasummertree @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @stahlop @shireness-says @thislassishooked @hollyethecurious @branlovestowrite @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @ekr032-blog-blog @snidgetsafan @scientificapricot @let-it-raines @carpedzem @profdanglaisstuff @wellhellotragic

Not all brides handle the stress of their big day the same way. Some get emotional, some get stressed, some freeze. However, most brides don’t stomp around the room in their bare feet fuming. Of course, Emma Swan isn’t most brides, and this isn’t most weddings.

“Emma, seriously, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“The carpet is the least of my worries, Rubes.”

At least Emma’s dress was simple. No voluminous skirt or long train to trip over. Nor was it one of those mermaid styles that forced the bride to shuffle around like a Barbie doll. The simple chiffon skirt swirled around her ankles, and the long slit up her left leg allowed her to move freely. The top of the dress was off the shoulder with a plunging neckline. Emma realized how sexy it was, but that hadn’t seemed to matter when it was going to be Walsh waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Now it was going to be Killian Jones waiting for her. Killian Jones. Her carpenter. Surely this was all a bad dream. That had to be it. Surely she’d wake up any minute now and laugh at the ridiculous scenarios conjured up by her nervous brain.

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered as she continued to stomp around the room.

“You mean Walsh cheating, Walsh jilting you at the altar, or you marrying a random acquaintance?”

Emma wanted to snap at her assistant, but instead she collapsed onto a nearby chair and put her head in her hands. “All of the above,” she groaned.

Ruby sank to her knees in front of Emma and took both of her hands. Ruby hadn’t made the move to Storybrooke with Emma; she’d been too much of a city girl. She normally handled Emma’s schedule from New York - the wonders of the internet - but she had made the trip for the wedding. Emma was relieved to have her here. She wasn’t only Emma’s assistant, she was also her closest friend. Those were admittedly rare in Emma’s life.

“Walsh is an absolute jerk,” Ruby fumed. “I’d like to rip his throat out!”

The door to the bridal suite flew open and Regina, Emma’s agent, came striding in, her heels beating out a staccato rhythm. She stopped right in front of Emma and propped her hands on her hips.

“What is this? You’re falling apart over that bastard? That’s not the Emma Swan I know. The one who tells thousands of women every day to push back and refuse to let a man tell you who you ought to be.”

Emma scowled. “Well excuse me for being heartbroken when I get dumped on my fucking wedding day!” Regina’s no-nonsense approach to . . . well, everything, made her a great agent. It didn’t, however, make her a very good shoulder to cry on.

“I get that, and I’m sorry, really I am.”

Really, Regina? I’m not so sure about that.

“But we’ve got media here, Emma, and I can’t have you a sobbing mess on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life.” She let out a huff, then shoved a stack of papers at Emma. “He signed everything with no argument.”

“Seriously?” Emma took the stack from Regina and flipped through it, though the legal jargon made her already aching head spin.

“It’s a standard gag agreement. I also had a friend of mine write up a quick pre-nup. There’s literally nothing in this for him. It’s strange, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s in love with you,” Ruby teased, giving Emma a little shove and a grin.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Hardly. We bicker like . . . like . . . “

“An old married couple?” Ruby supplied with an arched brow.

“Ruby!” she groaned. “This isn’t the time -”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ruby quickly apologized as she rose to her feet.

“And the wedding license?” Emma asked.

“Taken care of,” Regina assured her. She turned to Ruby. “I need you to run over to the groom’s suite and get Mr. Jones set up with a cordless mic.”

Ruby nodded. “Sure thing.”

Emma rose from the chair as her assistant scurried from the room. She wandered aimlessly to the window that overlooked the strip of beach where the ceremony would take place. She sensed Regina coming up behind her, but the woman didn’t attempt to touch her. That just wasn’t Regina’s way.

“Look, Emma,” she told her sincerely, “I know this isn’t the day you’d dreamed of. But your career is hot right now, and this second book might make even more money than your first. You’d be set for life.”

Emma felt a sudden chill and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to dispel the goosebumps. Being set for life sounded nice, especially after all the years of hunger and homelessness in her past. Like it so often did, her mind also sped back in time to when she was sixteen, abandoned and alone with a baby on the way. She shuddered. What did she even know about this man, Killian Jones? Was Regina right? Would it be simply putting up with a roommate for six months to a year in exchange for the career she’d worked so hard for?

“I know that in my head, Regina. Just give my heart a minute to catch up, okay?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a minute,” Regina briskly replied as she glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, let’s freshen up that hair and makeup.”

Emma let out a long sigh as she sat at the vanity. Regina rushed out of the room to get Ruby, since fussing over a friend’s hair and makeup wasn’t really her thing. Emma watched Ruby’s reflection in the mirror when she came back in and fake-swooned against the door.

“If you ask me, Emma, you traded up. That man is some serious man-candy, especially in a tux.”

Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling in response, though she felt the traitorous blush stain her cheeks. Killian’s good looks weren’t lost on her - she wasn’t blind.

“Help me with these smudges, will you?” she deflected, leaning forward and frowning at where she had smeared her mascara.

Ruby rushed up to join her, swiveling Emma’s stool so she was facing her. She went to work on Emma’s eye makeup with confident precision.

“If you do decide to go through with this annulment thing, I’ll gladly take him off your hands.”

Ruby winked at her, and Emma laughed. “If?”

Ruby shrugged as she turned Emma back to face the mirror. “You could find worse to grow old with, that’s all I’m saying.”

Emma’s hair, which she was wearing loose and flowing around her shoulders, didn’t need much help from Ruby, thank goodness. No surprise, considering the entire can of hairspray Ruby had shellacked it with. Even so, Emma frowned at her reflection as the title of the very first chapter of her book flashed before her mind.

Seriously Ladies, I Don’t Care How Hot He Is!

*****************************************

Truth be told, Emma Swan’s staff had planned the wedding, not her. Stressing over calla lilies versus roses, satin versus silk, band versus DJ wasn’t really her thing. The only thing she’d gotten personally invested in besides her dress was that damn arbor. She’d seen the rocking chair Killian had done for the Nolan’s with its intricate carvings and beautiful, smooth stain, and for some reason she wanted that for her wedding. Something uniquely her - something real.

Something real - what a joke that was now.

A string quartet played the opening strands of Canon in D, and Emma stepped out onto the satin runner that led from the back of the mansion to the beach below. It felt like the longest walk of her life with all of the guests standing and staring at her - she didn’t even recognize half of them. Cameras clicked all around her, reminding her once again that this was all on display for public consumption.

Emma saw Killian up ahead, beneath the awning, but only through a haze. In a way it felt like an out of body experience. She didn’t really get a good look at his face until she was right in front of him. To her surprise, his smile was wide and bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners - as if he was actually thrilled to be pledging his life to her. She caught a glance at Regina over his shoulder, and the woman tipped her head surreptitiously, her eyes glaring at Emma. The message was clear - at least pretend you want to be here, for God’s sake! Emma bit her lower lip, then looked into Killian’s eyes and forced a smile upon her face. It wasn’t as if gazing into his eyes was a chore - far from it. She’d never seen eyes so blue. She had noticed it that very first day they met, despite her irritation over his loud music. But here beside the sea, his eyes were even more striking.

Like the sea after a storm. Emma bit the inside of her cheek as the line from The Princess Bride came to her suddenly. On its heels came the title of chapter three of her book.

Seriously Ladies, This Life’s No Fairy Tale!

The vows were over before Emma even knew she’d spoken them. Once, Killian even had to squeeze her hands and nod to prompt her. The guests merely chuckled good-naturedly, obviously chalking it up to normal wedding jitters.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant announced. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Kiss the bride! Oh shit, Emma hadn’t even considered this part. They should have discussed it, or . . . practiced maybe? Yet Killian didn’t hesitate, nor did he seem the least bit flustered. He cupped her face in his hands and tenderly bent to press his lips to hers. It was soft, yet deep, his tongue swiping gently against her lips. Emma found herself opening for him and melting into the kiss. Another movie quote flitted through her brain: church tongue. When he pulled away, her eyes stayed closed in bliss for a moment.

Damn, Killian Jones could kiss.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek again as they faced the cheering guests. Now she was thinking of the title of chapter five.

Seriously Ladies, When it Comes to Kissing, Make Sure He’s the One Who Can’t Handle It

*****************************************************

If the wedding was a blur, the reception was even more so. Emma had heard stories of the crazy things people do when they’re suffering from shock. Walking miles on a broken leg, yanking things out of a gaping wound, dashing through fire, and yet not feeling a thing. She could relate, it was how she made it through her wedding day.

Regina was doing facial gymnastics to get her to go through the motions. She hoped she smiled and faked a laugh enough to sell it. Killian certainly did. Honestly, the way he looked at her sometimes was enough to make her swoon like Ruby. Regina must have given him a hell of an acting lesson.

Chapter Two: Seriously Ladies, All Men are Actors

Killian’s most Oscar-worthy performance came during their first dance. She wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction when the first bars of Extreme’s “More Than Words” played. Killian frowned down at her, his hand at her waist tightening slightly.

“Are you okay, love?”

Emma sighed, “It’s nothing, it’s just . . . this was our song.”

Killian’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry, love. None of this can be easy for you.”

“It’s seems easy for you,” she muttered.

He chuckled at that and pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear. “Well, I’ve got an incredibly beautiful woman in my arms. What’s so difficult about that?”

A shiver ran down her spine and an embarrassing giggle escaped her lips. She heard cameras clicking, and saw Regina give her a satisfied smile and a nod. Killian leaned back and arched a brow at her before spinning her out. When he pulled her back against his chest, he began to sing.

“More than words is all you have to do to make it real. Then you wouldn’t have to say you love me cause I’d already know.”

His voice was . . . amazing, actually, but he accompanied the words with ridiculous facial expressions and wild spins across the dance floor, and it all made Emma throw her head back with genuine laughter. He ended the entire performance by dipping her, followed by a chaste kiss. The crowd cheered and the cameras clicked. When he righted her, he pressed his forehead to hers and lowered his voice so only she could hear.

“No offense to your ex, but this song is basically a guy asking for sex as proof of love.”

Emma’s eyes widened. She should have been pissed at the observation, but . . . well, Walsh obviously hadn’t kept it in his pants, so . . .

“Seriously Ladies, Sex Doesn’t Equal Love.”

Killian blinked. “Pardon?”

Emma laughed again. Cameras clicked. They probably assumed they were having some tender moment. “Chapter eight. Of my book. That’s chapter eight of my book.”

Killian laughed and lifted his right hand to scratch behind his ear. “I, um, must confess . . . I haven’t read it.”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You are?”

“If you were reading books on how to have a relationship with a man, then this marriage would really be doomed.”

He laughed again, and his eyes did that crinkling thing, and she noticed for the first time that he had dimples. The cameras clicked again. The media loved him already.

Too bad the bride barely knew him.

*****************************************

Emma’s agent had told Killian he needed to act like a man in love, had lectured him on it for about ten minutes, actually. As if he needed it. Truth be told, he was having a hard time reining himself in. The wedding kiss, for example, was probably pushing it. But bloody hell, when he’d seen her walking down the aisle towards him, his heart had almost flown from his chest. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away, with her hair in those soft curls and that dress . . . God, that dress! The way her shapely legs peeked out of the slit as she walked, that plunging neckline that not only hinted at the swell of her breasts but also showed off her creamy skin - it was enough to make a man lose his mind.

Emma hadn’t seemed to be bothered by the kiss though, and had actually kissed him back. Then again, she had to keep up the charade. It would certainly arouse suspicion if she seemed uncomfortable with his lips on hers.

And his tongue tangling with hers. Shit, he probably shouldn’t have gone that far. He couldn’t stop touching her either, finding excuses throughout the reception to press his hand to the small of her back, take her hand, or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He was in heaven.

He was a cad. Because this also had to be one of the worst days of Emma Swan’s life.

Or was it Emma Jones now? They had never discussed that small detail, though he assumed with her career, she would keep Swan. Not that it bothered him either way. Even in a world of his most wonderful, wildest dreams where Emma Swan decided to stay when the year was up, he wouldn’t care what name she chose.

He had made her laugh during their first dance, and he counted that a huge victory. He loved that he could make her smile after all she had been through with her horrible ex. Why the man would cheat on her, much less leave her high and dry on their wedding day was something Killian couldn’t comprehend.

“Killian!”

His back stiffened at the familiar voice. He had seen David at the ceremony, but he’d managed to avoid him so far. Killian’s arm tightened around Emma’s waist as he turned to face his friend. His wife Mary Margaret was at his side, and she was practically beaming.

“Oh, I am so happy for you two!” she gushed. “How in the world did you manage to keep this from us?”

“Yeah,” David agreed, his eyes cutting from Emma to Killian and back again, “how long has this been going on?”

“Oh David,” Mary Margaret admonished with a playful slap to her husband’s chest, “obviously he’s why Emma moved here.”

“Well, it does explain all those appointments to design that wedding arbor,” David laughed.

Killian scratched behind his ear and forced a laugh. “You caught us!”

“So how did you meet?” Mary Margaret, ever the romantic, asked in a sing-song voice.

“Um, well, I DM-ed her on Instagram.”

David narrowed his eyes. “You’re on Instagram?”

“Of course he is, sweetie,” Mary Margaret laughed, as if her husband was way behind the times, “I follow him. Gorgeous pictures of all his work . . . anyways, so Emma, you broke chapter twelve of your book?”

Killian felt like his bow tie was choking him. “Chapter Twelve?”

“You know sweetie,” Emma said, elbowing him a little too sharply, “the chapter warning women against internet dating.”

“Oh . . . that, well,” his face turned red as she shot daggers at him from his eyes.

“What Killian means,” Emma said smoothly, turning to Mary Margaret, “is that he DM-ed me for relationship advice, not trying to flirt with me. A friendship grew from there, and then love.”

“Relationship advice?” David was crossing his arms over his chest now - not a good sign.

“Aye, mate. Being a widower is no picnic you know.”

David’s posture deflated, and he gave Killian a friendly slap on the back. “It’s good to see you happy again.”

Killian put his arm around Emma, pulled her close, and brushed a kiss to her temple. “Never been happier, truly.”

“I didn’t see your family here, Killian,” Mary Margaret said, concern creasing her brow.

Emma jumped in before Killian could even get his thoughts in order. “We’ll be doing a small, private ceremony for them. We just couldn’t risk the media figuring out Killian’s identity.”

Killian blinked as he looked down at her. She smiled at him in an adoring way and squeezed his bicep gently. She was quite the actress - impressive.

“So they don’t even know you got married?” Mary Margaret asked incredulously.

This was getting more and more complicated by the minute. “I didn’t want to ask them to keep such a huge secret,” Killian explained, “but don’t worry, I’ll be calling them soon.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret said on a sigh. She reached out to pat his hand. “I know they will be thrilled after all the pain they’ve watched you go through.”

Mercifully, the DJ announced that the bride and groom would be leaving for their honeymoon. Mary Margaret and David hugged them both and said their goodbyes, then Emma and Killian were whisked outside by Ruby and the wedding planner to a waiting limo.

Once inside, Emma collapsed against the seat, and her face fell. It was obvious now that her smiles, her gentle touches, all of it, had been a facade. She turned away from him as the limo drove away, taking them to Cape Cod. Uncomfortable silence fell between them, and the inches separating them on the bench seat felt like miles.

“Are you okay?” Killian finally ventured.

If she had snapped at him, he would have understood, but instead she looked at him wearily. “I woke up this morning planning to marry my fiance, and now I’m married to someone I barely know instead. How do you think I feel?”

He winced. “Fair enough. I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk.”

She ignored him, slumping further and resting her head against the window. He couldn’t help watching her, his heart aching that he could do nothing to ease her pain.

He was surprised when she spoke again, though she didn’t look at him. “I didn’t know you were married before.”

“I’m sorry, Swan, I should have mentioned that.”

“No,” she said, turning her gaze on him once again, “it isn’t that. I’m just . . . I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

They fell silent once again, and the stress of the day started to get to Killian. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but finally lost the battle and succumbed to sleep. It felt like only moments later when the limo driver tapped on the window. Killian’s eyes blinked open, and he was surprised to find Emma’s head against his shoulder. He shook her gently to wake her.

“We’re here, love.”

“Oh,” Emma said, voice still thick with sleep as she sat up, blinking. When she met his gaze, a blush stained her cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, I feel asleep too.”

She nodded, weary, and climbed out of the limo. The resort was a throwback to the heydey of Cape Cod with quaint shutters and bright red awnings. The staff fussed over them, which wasn’t surprising since they were both still dressed like figures on the top of a wedding cake. The bellboy got their bags and led them to the honeymoon suite. There was a small sitting room that led out to a balcony with an ocean view. Off the sitting room was a large master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite bath. Housekeeping had strewn rose petals across the bed, and a bottle of champagne on ice sat on the nightstand.

“Enjoy,” the bellboy said with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he slipped out the door.

The silence after he left was palpable. Emma shivered as she stared through the open door into the bedroom, but then she quickly squared her shoulders and spun on him.

“Look, I hope you didn’t get any ideas because we’re technically married.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he lifted both hands in defense. “I would never in a million years expect anything of the sort from you, Emma. Clearly, I’ll be taking the couch.”

Emma cocked her head at him, her eyes narrow slits. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman?’

He couldn’t help winking at her. “Of course. I’m always a gentleman.”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “We’ll see.”

It was late, and it had been a long and emotional day, so Killian wasn’t surprised when Emma grumbled that she was going to bed, shut the bedroom door behind her rather forcefully, and snapped at him not to bother her. He let out a long sigh as he toed off his shoes and started to remove his tie. He thought about calling Liam, but he just wasn’t emotionally ready for that conversation. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for he and Emma to get the details of their story straight before that happened.

There was a TV in front of the couch, and he flicked it on as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. He found blankets and a pillow on the top shelf of a closet and settled down with remote in hand. He flipped through the channels, but there wasn’t anything that captured his interest, so he shut it off and turned off the light. He lay there, his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, but sleep was elusive.

Then a sound caught his ear. Killian tilted his head and listened closely. It was Emma, and she was crying.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs modern au #marriage of convenience #slow burn #some angst #humor

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago

Text

Qualified

Based off this post by @stop-it-anxiety

Summary: Virgil’s usual therapist was... unique. The man who just slumped into his seat is even unique-r. Of everything Virgil expected from the stranger, it definitely wasn’t actual advice. Pairings: Platonic sleepxiety, romantic remile, background LAMP, background RED Warnings: Sympathetic deceit (mentioned), food mention (kinda), like one swear, fears of abandonment

Virgil hadn’t been thrilled about going to see yet another therapist. One too many bad experiences in the past had made him extremely hesitant when his boyfriends told him about Dr. Emile Picani.

True to their word, however, Emile had been… unique, somehow in a good way. His methods weren’t orthodox, in any sense of the word, but they worked. It helped that Emile had seemed so familiar almost immediately, a feeling Virgil later attributed to how similar yet different he was from his boyfriends- logical like Logan, yet extremely bubbly like Patton. And for Roman, so much Disney. So, so much Disney.

But it worked. Emile’s general kookiness and tendency to link problems to cartoons put Virgil more at ease than any clinical outlook at his problems ever had. It had been a few months since he first got asked, “Do you how do?” and he was doing surprisingly great.

So, of course, now was the perfect time for things to go upside down.

He had been anxiously checking the clock- it was normal for Emile to come in a little bit after the patient; he always had some dramatic entrance planned (Virgil was still finding glitter in his clothes from the time he had used a sparkle bomb), but five minutes late? The doc was normally very punctual- when the door opened. He glanced over, expecting to see Emile doing something positively ridiculous.

Instead, someone in a black leather jacket and sunglasses breezed into the room, flopping into Emile’s chair and throwing their legs over one of the arms. Virgil watched, bewildered, as the stranger took a long sip from their starbucks cup.

“So,” They drawled, letting their head roll to the side so they were actually looking at Virgil, “tell me about your emotional shit.”

Virgil frowned, confused. “...Who are you?”

“Emile is sick, so I’m your stand-in therapist.”

“Did you even go to medical school?”

“Listen, babes, we’re here to talk about you, not my qualifications.” They answered, taking another sip of their drink.

Virgil crossed his arms. “Yeah, because talking to a wannabe rock star whose name I don’t even know and has probably never seen a degree of higher learning is going to do me a lot of good.”

“You forgot caffeine addicted, sugar.” They replied, unfazed. “And if you want my name so bad, it’s Remy.”

“Great.” Virgil said sarcastically. “Random stranger Remy, wannabe rock star with a coffee addiction, wants to try and help me solve my problems.”

“Random stranger?” Remy repeated, sounding faux hurt. “I’m just a random stranger to you?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Yeah I got that bit.” Remy responded. “I’m hung up on the fact that you’ve never heard of me.”

“Should I have?”

Remy frowned, though he still sounded more amused than upset as he grumbled, “Figures Em would be responsible… not talking about his personal life with his patients…”

“Actually, that reminds me.” Virgil said, mostly ignoring the mumbles. “How do you even know Emile? Are you a past patient with an authority complex, or-”

“I’m his better boyfriend.” Remy said, cutting Virgil off.

Virgil scoffed. “Better? Oh, so it’s a superiority complex.”

“Nah, it’s just the truth.” Remy countered. “See, Dante’s a knockout of a man, but he’s not willing to step up to bat when it matters. ‘Em’s sick, we should cancel his appointments.’ ‘No, Rem, you playing therapist is not a good idea.’ ‘I think you drinking another coffee right now will kill you do you really think you can offer any form of sane therapy.’ He’s such a killjoy.”

“Did you ever consider he might have been right?”

“Very briefly, yes.” Remy admitted with another sip of what Virgil now suspected to be a supposedly fatal coffee. “But listening to him wouldn’t have been much fun.”

“So you decided to disturb your boyfriend’s patients?”

“Of course not!” Remy replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m here to disturb a patient. You’re the only person Em was seeing today, so here I am! To deliver you helpful emotional advice!”

Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, that’s going to go well.”

“Well it might if you actually told me something.” Remy said, shifting in the chair so his legs were hooked over the top and his head was dangling above the ground. “Spill the tea, hunny.” He ordered while, somehow, taking a sip of his drink and neither spilling nor choking on it.

“How- How are you doing that?” Virgil asked, thinking back to his one attempt to drink upside down. It had ended with a ruined shirt and a good two minutes of choked panic.

“It’s an artform. Now spillllllllllll.”

“This is extremely unprofessional.” Virgil responded before continuing, “But things are fine. There’s the fear of abandonment but that’s nothing new-”

“Don’t care if it isn’t new.” Remy said, stopping Virgil. “Sounds important. Let’s start there.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You actually want to try and do something helpful?”

“Did you think I wanted to hear about your most likely boring life for kicks?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“You give me no credit, babe. Just because I’m not certified to say helpful shit doesn’t mean I can’t.” Remy smirked. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but one of my boyfriends is a therapist. I’ve learned a lot from him.”

“I find that doubtful, but go wild.” Virgil said, leaning back into the couch.

Remy placed his cup down next to his head before pressing his hands together like a prayer beneath (or in this case, over) his chin. He wouldn’t have looked serious if he was sitting right-side up, but upside down just made him look even dorkier than his cartoon-adoring partner.

“Tell me, Virgil, why do you have abandonment issues?” He asked, sounding about as professional as a five-year-old playing doctor.

“The universe hates me.”

“Mmhmmm yes yes let me write this down.” Remy said, nodding as he dug into his jean pocket, pulling out a silver sharpie, rolling down his jacket sleeve and scribbling ‘universe sucks’ on his arm. “Could you elaborate on that? How does it make you feel?”

“Like I’m going to be abandoned.”

Remy nodded again. “I see… have you considered the possibility that you are, in fact, not going to be abandoned?”

“Miracle of miracle- my problems are solved!”

“No need to be so sarcastic.” Remy said, jabbing his sharpie at Virgil. “My solution is airtight. But if you insist on being ‘complicated’ and having ‘complex problems’ you should probably tell me why you think everyone is going to abandon you for reasons other than the general hatred of the universe focused against you.”

Virgil chuckled. “That’s a lot of big words you strung together.”

“And that’s some very good discussion redirection you’re doing.”

Virgil clicked his tongue. Mr. Indoor Sunglasses and Afternoon Coffee was smarter than he seemed. “Listen, I realize I’m worth a lot more than I thought before I started meeting with Emile. But I’m still nowhere on the level anyone I know is. The other shoe’s gotta fall and I am, stupidly, still afraid for it.”

Remy started writing on his arm again, making bullets beneath the ‘universe sucks statement’;

-’Imposter’ boi

-Sad boi

-Stupid boi

“Hey!” Virgil exclaimed defensively. “‘Stupid boi?’ I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better about my self-worth or something, not attack me.”

“You’ve clearly got that front covered, love, I don’t even have to touch it.” Remy replied, putting a little star next to the last bullet point for emphasis. “But while you cover the attacks, I’ll focus on the facts.”

“Nice rhyme.”

“I’m good like that. Now I’m not allowed to look at Em’s notes because patient confidentiality or something silly and highly technical, so you’re gonna have to lend me a hand here- who are you afraid will abandon you? Y’know, aside from everyone.”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. My boyfriends I guess.”

“How long have y’all been dating?”

“Two and a half years.”

“...Sugar, I don’t know how to explain the concept of ‘if they haven’t left yet they ain’t gonna leave ever’ to you but-”

Virgil cut him off, “That is not how relationships work. If it was the divorce rates would be a lot lower.”

“You miss my point.” Remy said with a sigh, righting himself in the chair and for the first time that day looking actually serious. “Do relationships fail? Yes, it sucks, but it can happen to a couple of fifty years. That’s just life, sweetheart, I won’t sugarcoat it.”

“Helpful.”

“Let me finish. When those relationships fail, it’s because a fight or an opinion they didn’t know the other had comes up. Or something, I don’t know, I’m not a relationship counselor.” Remy added with a shrug. “What I do know, is that relationships that have existed for longer than six months don’t break up because they suddenly think one of them is worthless or some other bullshit. If your bfs are that pretentious, they would’ve dropped you ages ago-”

“My self-esteem is doing amazingly, thanks-”

“-and you would have been the better for it.” Remy finished, waving a finger. “You really need to stop interrupting. You miss the best parts.”

“...What do you mean?” Virgil asked, pausing as he actually processed what Remy had said. Remy smiled, and it must have been the most gentle and genuine one he had worn all day.

“Whether or not you’ll admit it, Virgil, you have worth. A whole hecking lot of it, as my cartoonish partner would say. If your boyfriends had left you in the beginning, it would have been their loss. And I find it highly doubtful they’re going to let you escape them now.” Remy leaned in a bit, smile morphing into a more mischievous one as he added in a stage whisper, “And if they do, I’ll help you egg their house.”

Virgil laughed at that. “Y’know,” He started after a moment, still smiling, “you’re not as incompetent as you look.”

“The secret is setting expectations so low, any single thing you do right is an overachievement.” Remy told him as he stood up, dramatically stretching before picking his coffee cup back up. “Now, as much fun as beating your problems with a stick is, the session’s over, and I have two boyfriends to annoy.”

“Even the sick one?”

“Annoyance is my primary personality trait. He knew the sort of caregiving he was signing up for.” Remy said as he moved towards the door. He stopped in the doorway for a second to turn back to Virgil with a wave. “Toodles, babes!”

And then he was gone, just about as dramatically as he had come. Virgil remained seated on the couch for a moment, shaking his head with a smile.

When he finally convinced himself to head out to the parking lot, he found Patton waiting, sitting on the hood of his car. He grinned broadly and waved when he spotted Virgil, greeting him with a kiss.

“How was it today?” Patton asked while Virgil moved for the passenger door. “You were in longer than usual. Session run late?”

Virgil shook his head with a chuckle. “Nah. Today was just… unique.”

“Good unique or bad unique?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“Good unique.” Virgil reassured him. “I’ll tell you what happened once we meet up with the pen and the sword.”

Patton raised his eyebrows. “Oh, nicknames? Someone’s happy!”

“Yeah, Pat, I am.”

Patton smiled even bigger and turned on the car.

“Loves, your favorite bitch it back!”

The house quietly regarded Remy with no response. Remy frowned as he dropped his sunglasses on the small table in the hall. He wandered to the bedroom, finding Emile curled up and watching Steven Universe, not even noticing Remy’s entrance.

Smiling, Remy snuck around the bed, shrugging off his jacket before sliding into the bed and hugging Emile from behind. Startled, Emile turned his head, relaxing when he realized it was Remy.

“Oh, hi Rem.” Emile said, sleepy, before his eyes widened. He tried to pull away from Remy. “You’re going to get yourself sick.”

Remy just tightened his grip and laughed. “I have no immune system, love, I’ve been destined to get sick since your first sneeze. Plus, I will risk illness for attention and cuddles. Where’s Dante? I want triple cuddles.”

Emile gave up trying to escape the hug, instead rolling his head so he could partially tuck it into Remy’s shoulder. “He’s getting me ice cream.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick and I said please.”

“I thought ice cream was ‘unhealthy’ and ‘not for sick people.’”

“Dante said that because when you were sick, it was from drinking too much coffee.” Emile replied. “Speaking of, you didn’t pick up any on the way to my session, did you?”

“...No?”

“Rem.”

Remy chuckled and pressed a kiss to Emile’s temple. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to allow for a repeat of the Coffee Disaster of May.”

“Hmm.” Emile hummed, disbelievingly. “How was Virgil?”

“Pretty good. Worried about his boyfriends leaving him but I casually called him stupid and everything was fixed.”

“This is why no one believes you went to med school.”

Remy twisted his head a bit to smirk at Emile. “Hey, my complete lack of professionalism is the entire reason you get to be the psych doc without even having to think about student loans.”

“I know.” Emile said, moving up so he could kiss Remy. “It’s why I love you.”

“Oh, so all I am to you is a free bachelor's and master’s degree?”

“It’s one of the many reasons I love you.” Emile amended, yawning as he curled closer to Remy. “Along with the fact you’re a great hugger.”

“And to think you tried to escape my hug but five minutes ago.” Remy teased, but he curled in a little more as well, quietly watching Steven Universe with his boyfriend as they both gradually fell asleep.

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okaynicolette · 4 years ago

Text

Lunch Between Friends - Liam x Jacob

Jacob pulled up to the lunch restaurant, unsure if he had the right place or not. It seemed rather crowded and also rather pink. After he found parking, which was not an easy task due to the Saturday brunch crowd of locals and tourists alike, he checked his messages from Liam again. Yep, this was indeed the right place. Jacob sighed, why couldn’t Liam be happy with just meeting up at a more adult restaurant, rather than something he read about in some food blog, he thought rather discontentedly. Walking to the front of the restaurant, which had bright pink umbrellas shading the sidewalk tables, he saw Liam leaning up against the gold and black painted wall (which was no doubt intended to be a tourist photo op). Jacob gave a light wave to his friend as he walked up, hoping that Liam was actually looking at him behind the dark aviator sunglasses he donned.

Liam arrived early to put his name down, knowing that this restaurant would be crowded at this time of day. It was a popular brunch and burger spot in Venice Beach and it was constantly full of trendy LA millennials– so of course, Liam loved it. Though it was a Saturday, he couldn’t help but check his work email while he waited for Jacob to arrive. He didn’t become one of the most sought after CFPs at his firm by taking weekends off, after all. Just as he sent one final email, he looked up and noticed Jacob walking towards him. Liam gave a head nod of greetings and said, “I put our name in with the host about 20 minutes ago, should be any time now.”

Jacob was thankful that Liam arrived early to put their name in– neither of them were very patient people, but Liam tended to be the more proactive one. Jacob would likely just suffer and complain. The two of them were roommates at USC for the last two years of school, so they knew each other very well. Nowadays, they tried to hang out as often as they could, but things got difficult since Jacob got his girlfriend pregnant right after his graduation. Liam was finishing school then climbing the corporate ladder at his job, while Jacob was learning how to be a father. Liam did his best to be a good uncle though, and Jacob was glad for that as an only child himself– his son, Isaiah, loved his Uncle Liam. From the time Isaiah was born until he was around six, Jacob and Isaiah’s mom, Aidy, lived together and had a fairly normal life. That was until about a year ago. Out of the blue, Aidy decided that she was disappointed she missed out on so much of her life and needed to “experience more”, which was apparently code for “sleep with other people”. They did their best, tried counseling for a few months, but eventually decided to go their separate ways. Jacob originally thought it would be easy because they weren’t married, but they both wanted full custody of Isaiah. The custody battle dragged on for months, when finally, in January, the court decided that they would have joint custody, with Isaiah going back and forth every two weeks. Jacob wasn’t taking it very well, though he tried to put on a good face for his son. He was grateful when Liam called to invite him on a spur of the moment trip, because it felt a little bit like old times.

Moments later, the host called to seat them and they headed into the restaurant. The inside carried the same millennial aesthetic as the outside with mismatched colorful vintage furniture and gold mirrors and picture frames lining the walls. Jacob found quiet solace in the fact that Liam had good taste in food, which meant this whole Instagram-trap might be worth it. Once they were seated, Liam asked, “So did you book your flights?” He rarely beat around the bush, especially when he was nervous or eager. Something in his tone told Jacob that it was a bit of both.

“Yeah, I got them for the dates you told me and let Aidy know– not that she cared very much since it doesn’t affect her or Isaiah,” Jacob replied, unintentionally sounding bitter at the end of the statement. He was bitter, but he didn’t like showing it, even if it was just to Liam. “So, are we wedding crashing?” He asked before picking up the menu to try and find a decent lunch.

Liam laughed, idly skimming the offerings, even though he had already checked and double checked the menu before even deciding that this was the place they would be eating at. “I don’t know yet. I told you, it’s going to be a surprise for Nik– she doesn’t know I’m coming at all,” he replied, with a facade of excitement. Inside, he was beginning to worry about whether or not this was a good idea. Hoping that Jacob would have good advice, he asked, “Do you think I should tell her? I mean, I’m trying to be romantic and all that.”

Jacob was trying to read through the very long burger menu and make a decision about lunch, but everything sounded amazing since he accidentally skipped breakfast. “I mean if you want to be romantic, then showing up to surprise her at her best friend’s wedding is definitely that. It sounds like a fucking rom-com, for god’s sake,” he said, barely looking up. In all honesty, Jacob felt like the last person who should be giving advice on that sort of thing. He had been with one woman seriously for the last seven years and she had all but shattered his heart.

Liam sighed, setting down his menu. It was rare for him to let his guard down, but Jacob had seen him at his worst, so there was no image to uphold. “My friend from work, Riley, said that Maids of Honor usually have a lot of responsibilities. Do you think I’ll just be distracting her? Oh, and also the bride thinks I’m a dick, so that’s not great either,” he said, rather frustratedly.

Jacob decided on his food and set down his menu to face his friend. “Well I don’t know very much about weddings,” he began, again subtly playing the sad-heartbroken card, “but, like I said– it sounds like a rom-com. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the grand gesture and it’ll be fine. Also, you didn’t tell me Nikki’s best friend doesn’t like you!” He laughed a little bit, giving Liam a hard time. His attitude did rub people the wrong way sometimes, but that usually just meant they hadn’t taken the time to get to know him well.

Liam rolled his eyes as the waitress arrived to take their orders. Once she took their menus and left, he began, “She thinks I’m too showy or something. I get it, but like– she hated me from the jump, so what am I supposed to do?” He shrugged.

Jacob smirked, “Lease a Subaru, move to Arcadia, and become a high school guidance counselor, obviously.” The sarcastic response elicited a genuine laugh from both men. “Kidding, but who knows– This trip might show her friend that you’re serious about the relationship and she’ll get off your back,” he nodded, optimistically as the waitress dropped off their drinks.

“Damn, I never even thought of that,” said Liam pensively, realizing that Jacob had made a very good point. He was now somewhat reassured in his plan to go on the trip. “So how are you doing, man? I know these past few months have been shit,” he said somberly, genuinely feeling for his friend. Though Liam didn’t have any desires to be a father in the near future, he did love Isaiah like a real nephew, and was really disappointed to see how things turned out. He had even helped Jacob get a lawyer through his parents, but it was no use.

Jacob raised his eyebrows and sighed before responding. “It’s fucking lonely, dude. Like how do people our age even meet other people? I’ve gone out a few times with people from work, but bars and clubs… I’m just so not used to that scene anymore,” he shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you tried dating apps?” Liam asked, unsure of what to say to his grieving friend. Emotions weren’t his strong suit, but he was trying his best.

“If one more person asks me that, I think I’ll explode on the spot.” Liam said sharply. Just that morning, his mother had asked the same thing over the phone. Apparently it was time for him to get back out there again, or something.

Liam raised his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, so no dating apps,” he resigned. “Well, weddings are a great place to meet people. Who knows– maybe we do score some invites and you meet someone there!” He said, trying to cheer his friend up. Just then, the waitress brought by their meals and topped up their drinks. “And if you don’t meet anyone, then I can always take you out. If you want to, that is,” he nodded, unfolding his napkin and setting it on his lap.

“I don’t feel a particular need to meet anyone, has anyone ever considered that?” Jacob muttered, following Liam’s lead and placing his napkin on his lap.

“You just said you were lonely, J. Even if it’s just a friend you meet, that would help! I know you have me, but it would be nice to have other people you can lean on right now and whenever, you know?” Liam explained before beginning to eat.

“I have friends!” Jacob said incredulously. “I have… Aidy?” He offered sheepishly, realizing that his social circle had been pretty nonexistent these days.

“Your baby-mama who you just got out of a five-month-long custody battle with? That’s your other friend? You might need this trip more than me, dude.” He chuckled and shook his head as he took another bite.

“Ew, God. Don’t call her that.” Jacob rolled his eyes, “But fine. I guess I do need to get out more. This trip will be good for that. And even if Nikki is super busy, the two of us can still go out and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, of course! It’ll be like a revival of the good old days– an Apartment 121 Renaissance!” Liam said excitedly, lifting his glass as if making a toast. Jacob laughed and lifted his glass to touch his friend’s. Their glasses clinked and Jacob felt slightly less hopeless than he had while he was driving in.

#para #liam x jacob

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mimimosas-blog1 · 4 years ago

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2021: Day 1, Reflection Journal

What new coping skills did I learn or emphasize to help me through 2020 (meditating, seeing a counselor, walking daily, eating healthier, being more financially responsible, being more honest with others about my emotional experience, getting help for an addiction, joining or starting a support group, performing spiritual rituals) that I plan to keep in my self-care first-aid kit for 2021?

Some coping mechanisms that really helped me get through the year of 2020 were cooking, socializing, cleaning, exercising, being financially responsible (created an Excel budget sheet), being honest with others, setting boundaries, alone time, reading, and keeping up with my hair and skin care. These are all really great tools that helped me throughout the year. I would definitely try to continue all of these listed items because even though the year wasn’t so great I didn’t complain too much... maybe because I knew I had to enjoy the little moments and my precious time that I couldn’t get back. I made the most of the majority of situations and always tried to focus on the positive. I would try to think about all the things I’m grateful for (which I should really be journaling but I just keep them in my thoughts). I am hoping that this is my new tool to help me journal more often. I am so bad about writing everything down because I have so much to say and my mind races faster than my hand writing it all down.

Towards the end of the year, I slacked off on exercising because my life got so busy, so I really want to get back on my fitness routine at least 3 days a week. I was even proud of myself for trying to work out at least once or twice a week with an extremely busy schedule. I know I can complete at least 3 workouts every week for at least 30 minutes. The hardest part is starting and so I just need to get my routine in place. I should workout after work and then cook dinner. That’s a good plan.

Also towards the end of the year, I slacked off on reading books. I really want to get more books and really read them through. I also have ebooks but I find it so hard to sit here and read an electronic book... there is something about a physical book. However, I don’t have enough storage space to be buying a lot of books. I should try to read ebooks more. I will aim for one ebook and then finish my physical book that is half way finished.

I found so many tasty recipes that I want to try cooking! I am really excited about that. I never knew how much I enjoyed cooking. This year has really taught me how to cook (well sort of towards the end of 2019 but got really into it 2020). It all started with prepping my lunches for grad school since I was there all day long then it led to cooking with my boyfriend and then we ended up trying different recipes and cooked more often. I used to “hate” cooking, at least I thought I did! I am trying to find a dish that many people enjoy and I can bring that to outings haha! I also aim to be a great cook because living on my own will really test me.

Those are a few things that I really want to implement starting today. I have plenty of goals and things I like to improve on. I don’t like calling them new years resolutions though. Of course, there will be times where I don’t follow through and I won’t be so hard on myself. I will continue to love myself and my efforts and give myself credit for all the things I have gone through. There is a lot to endure in a day and I think we should all be proud of ourselves for making it through another day. Life isn’t easy.

Side notes: Crazy how 2020 flew by so quickly. So much has happened this year. I am so grateful for every single little thing that happened even though I was in a dark place at times. I am human and there will be ups and downs. I don’t need to hold high expectations of myself. I am not perfect and don’t promote perfection.

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spacespazz101 · 5 years ago

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Train Wreck Meets Dumpster Fire Part 1

Train Leaves the Station

Agent Washington was leaving the mess hall when his coms alerted him that he was needed in the briefing room in 10 minutes. Wash let out a groan, he had 10 minutes to make it to his room on one side of the Mother of Invention and get to the briefing room on the other side. He would have to run. It would the first mission they had given out since Agent Texas had joined and York had been hurt.

Wash was the last agent to make it to the briefing room. He entered the room with a burst of energy managing to barrel into Agent Texas in the process. “That hurt-OW!” Wash hadn’t even been down for thirty seconds before he was being hoisted up by North who immediately began to berate him for his recklessness. He caught sight of Agent Texas as she stood up. Although she was wearing her helmet, she seemed to be looking at him through her visor.

“C’mon Rookie, the Director and Counselor are on their way!” South whispered to him as they all moved to stand at attention in a line. They heard the two coming before the door opened, that by itself was out of the ordinary but by the time they were standing outside the door they could hear the entire conversation.

The Director and Counselor were arguing! Or as close to arguing the Counselor ever got. “-we don’t know if it was just a malfunction with communications, there have been reports of solar storms in that region. That could have caused a loss of communications.”

“Counsellor, my mind is made up they have missed three check-ins I am sending the team.”

The Director ended the conversation by entering the door. He turned towards the gathered Freelancers, all doing their best not to look like they had been eavesdropping. Without a word of greeting the Director started the briefing, “Last week we lost contact with a satellite training facility. All communications have been shut down and we have yet to re-establish communication. You will be investigating this base to see what is going on.”

“What’s housed inside the satellite base sir?” Carolina questioned. Her entire body was tense.

“The counselor has taken up a pet project, called Bravo team. They are a mix of SIM soldiers and retired UNSC troops. They aren’t at a level everyone here maintains which is why they have never been on the Mother of Invention but they are skilled enough that they served as beta testers for some of the more dangerous enhancements and have some intelligence on our operations. Which is why it is imperative that what they know not fall into the hands of the Insurgence.” The Director answered his tone clipped as he pulled up a hologram of a standard SIM boxed canyon.

“Your mission will be to go to their outpost and find out what happened to them. If there are any survivors bring them back. We do not have any blueprints of the satellite base beyond the standard SIM bases. Since you will be going in blind the entire team will be going to ensure maximum success. That will include Agent Texas.” The Director paused to look at the entire group. No one spoke, not daring to be the one to anger the tightly wound Director.

“Carolina you will be leading this mission, Agent Texas will be your second in command.” That got a response. Carolina began to object. “But sir-” “But nothing Agent Carolina. The accident was not Texas’ fault and with Agent York still in the Medbay healing from Agent Maine’s grenade you are down a man already. Besides the experience will do her some good for when the time comes for her to lead her own team.” The Director cut off Carolina sharply before he began to go over the base’s layout and defenses.

Everyone looked away from Carolina to pay closer attention to the Director’s briefing. But Wash kept looking at Texas. Although he couldn’t see her hurt expression through her visor, he couldn’t help but feel for her. He had been the unwanted rookie before she had joined up. But he had managed to go past that when York and North had taken pity on the confused newbie. Texas hadn’t had that chance. Since she had been introduced to the Mother of Invention she had been avoided like the plague. Whispers and rumors had prevented others from approaching her unless strictly necessary. Even other freelancers had approached her with caution. Only working with her for training when necessary. Otherwise she sat alone during lessons, ate in her room alone, and trained alone.

“Agent Washington will provide any support that Agent York may have provided…” Wash jerked bask to the briefing hearing his name. He resolved to approach Agent Texas before this whole thing started. It was the least he could do.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_TRAIN_WRECK_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The Briefing couldn’t have been over soon enough. It was bad enough that the Director hadn’t spoken to her before he informed the team of adding Texas to the roster, but she had to lose control in the middle of the meeting over it. Texas had left immediately, rushing to catch the Counselor before he left.

“Wait! You forgot your commlink!” Wash called after her, holding the com unit she had lost in their collision at the beginning of the meeting.

“Forget about it. I’ll get it to her tomorrow when we leave.” Carolina growled, snatching the device from his hand and walking out before he could protest. She could meet with York and tell him that he wouldn’t get any company for a while.

As she walked towards the Medbay Carolina examined Texas’ stolen commlink. She had a different com unit than everyone else. Of course she did. She was a special case. Carolina made it to the Medbay before she could investigate what made Texas’ commlink so special.

Taking a breath to center herself. Carolina put all thoughts of Texas and the Director to the side. She needed to focus on not stressing York out. Or it would hinder his recovery. Carolina took off her helmet and opened the door. Carolina tried to put something resembling a smile on her face only to freeze.

York wasn’t in his bed.

Carolina was about to call a search party when she heard a voice behind her. “Wow isn’t this a nice surprise. I was hoping to surprise you with my recovery in your room, but I guess you beat me to it.” York’s voice coming from behind her had Carolina relax minutely.

“You’re ok.” She scolded herself for sounding so relieved, but York had been touch-and-go for a while. “Yea, I should be released in a few hours. So, I should be ok enough to join you on the mission tomorrow.” He was right behind her now. She would only have to lean back an inch and they would be touching. Carolina still hadn’t turned towards him. She couldn’t show emotion right now. She needed to be the best and the best didn’t get emotional.

“Are you sure you are alright to go on this?” That was a good, professional subject. No way to drift into more personal waters. “I wouldn’t push it, I’m ok.” He repeated. Not crossing the few centimeters needed to make contact that both of them craved. “But I will be well enough for a recon mission.” York kept the discussion professional, never straying into topics she didn’t want to go into. Carolina was thankful for that.

They spent maybe an hour just like that. Not touching, not looking at each other, only talking only about the upcoming mission. Finally, a medic came in to discharge York. They gave him one more look over and told him he was ready to return to normal activity as long as he didn’t push himself too hard.

They went their separate ways after that. York to get the green light from the Director and her to get ready for the mission in the morning.

The night passed uneventfully York had messaged before she had fallen asleep. her the Director had no problem about letting him on the mission.

As Carolina was getting ready for the mission in her room when she heard a beeping coming from a commlink. Scrambling for her own commlink Carolina realized it wasn’t coming from her com.

Carolina still had Texas’ commlink and it was unlocked.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_MEETS_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The plane was prepped and ready for the mission. They were supposed to leave in ten minutes.

So where was Texas?

CT, South, and North were standing on the ramp. They were trying to talk a surprisingly stubborn Agent Washington out of something in their own unique ways. Whatever it was he wanted to do must be a bad idea because South kept repeating “rip your arms out of their sockets” as CT and North tried to get him to forget about his plan. Wyoming and Florida had been strapping in for the ride but had traveled to the top of the ramp to see what all the noise was about.

“Sorry I’m late but I was trying to talk an idiot out of doing something stupid.” Agent Texas’ voice cut through the squabbling. There was a grunt of agreement from Maine as steps signaled that their wayward teammates had joined them. “Hey! I am ok enough to be on this mission I was discharged, and the Director gave his stamp of approval.” York’s voice protested.

“Are you sure that you should be up?” Wash had apparently abandoned arguing with the others and had moved to stand beside York, as if afraid that he would collapse with the slightest breeze.

“Yea, I’m doing ok. I should be good enough for a recon mission. Beside I can’t leave the Rookie to fuck up when I’m available.” York’s voice was light and teasing but Carolina took a moment to back up and look at Texas’ commlink again.

She hadn’t had much time to investigate but she had found a massive amount of saved messages dating back to about a week after she went aboard the Mother of Invention up to the time that the satellite went off grid. If she had more time, she could have listened to some of the messages and get rid of her listening. But as it stood, she couldn’t risk letting Texas know that she was on to her. The entire thing was suspicious, and Carolina resolved to meet with the Director and Counselor after the whole thing was over to ensure that Texas was watched. Because Carolina probably found their mole.

Carolina couldn’t help but smile under her helmet as everyone moved to join her. That was probably why the Director had made Texas the second in command. So that Carolina could keep a close eye on the potential mole.

Afterall on an easy mission like this. What could go wrong?

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_DUMPSTER_FIRE_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

#Red vs Blue #Agent Texas #agent washington #agent carolina #agent york

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adhdtoomanycommas · 4 years ago

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Emotional Disregulation, Privilege, and White Girl Tears

Hello all, it has been a few months since my last ADHD essay, and what a few months it has been. In case you’re reading this in the future (since tumblr has no date stamps), I am writing this in June 2020 when in the midst of a global pandemic, police are responding to massive protests against police violence with even more police violence, and a lot of white people are thinking more than ever about the privilege we have experienced. I have been thinking about writing about my (cis white female) experience with privilege where neurodivergence, race, and gender intersect for a while, and have hit the point where these ideas have been bouncing around in my head long enough I need to write them down.

Small disclaimer: Right now I'm not sure if I should be writing anything about anything since we all ought to be listening and amplifying black voices --I'm there are much better resources out there about race and neurodivergance especially, and I have no intention of talking over anyone, especially given my limited experience. But given that the audience for my last essay here was in the single digits, I doubt I need to worry too much about talking over people at the moment. Please know that I am writing this now primarily for myself, and if it ever gets an audience later, forgive me for writing it now when there are so many more important things going on and more important people to listen to.

I will do my best to stay in my lane here, so I'm just going to talk about how my privilege has affected the perception of one of my ADHD symptoms If you don't want to read some rambling white/cis anecdotes about how white privilege and gender norms affect the perception of ADHD, by all means skip it. If you're still here, maybe it can be the start of a conversation as I would love to hear some other perspectives and experiences here. And maybe, just maybe by the end of it I will learn to spell privilege right on the first try (I really want there to be an A in there, or maybe a D. Privaledge? Sounds about right.)

As I mentioned in my previous ramble, I’m a cryer. I cry a lot, not just when I’m sad but sometimes when I’m happy, when I feel guilty or ashamed, and especially when I’m angry, or frustrated, or overwhelmed. I learned recently, as I was seeking my diagnosis, that emotional disregulation is a hallmark of ADHD. We feel things strongly, and uncontrollably and have trouble restraining ourselves from expressing those feelings. This is experienced by almost everyone, if not everyone, with ADHD and it’s only not part of the diagnostic criteria because it’s hard to quantify—there are a lot of good general resources out there to learn more about this, I’m not an expert, I’m just here to share my own experience.

Story time. When I was in fourth grade, I punched another girl in the stomach. For what felt like the millionth time, when the teacher told everyone to find a partner for some activity, everyone partnered up and I looked around to find that I was the left-over. I was an outcast for a lot of reasons at that age. I told myself for a long time it was solely because I was the lone atheist (actually agnostic but I didn’t know the term at the time) in a deep south bible-belt school, but with the benefit of hindsight I have also realized that (partially probably due to the ADHD) I was also pretty weird, and probably very annoying. But whatever the reason for my ostracism, it was already weighing heavily on me when the teacher assigned this girl to work with me, and she gave me the biggest exasperated sigh and eyeroll like she would rather do anything else. So I punched her.

I now realize that this is probably a pretty normal response for a kid with untreated ADHD—the combination of emotional disregulation and poor impulse control means we often lash out. But with none of the adults in my life knowing that at the time, surely I was disciplined for my seemingly-random violent action, yes? No. I cried, and I got away with it.

That’s not the whole story, I did get several weeks of sessions with the school counselor, and I was made to write a very thorough apology letter (and made to rewrite it repeatedly as the teacher thought of more things I should add and repeatedly declared my handwriting not good enough, to such an extent the exercise definitely felt more punitive than reconsiliatory), but I ultimately I didn’t get expelled, I didn’t get suspended, I didn’t even get detention.

The girl I punched was black. This wouldn’t be relevant to the story at all, except that in retrospect I have to wonder if the consequences would have been the same if our roles were reversed. If a black girl (even a neurodivergent, ostracized, and frequently bullied one) had lashed out the way I did and punched a white girl, I expect there would have been a lot more consequences for that, even if she cried afterwards. And if a black boy had done the same, he wouldn’t have been perceived as troubled and in need of help, he would have been perceived as dangerous. And as we all (hopefully) know by now, that perception can have life or death consequences.

I’m sure that was neither the first nor the last time that crying, and people’s perception of me crying (as a cute little white girl with freckles and big brown eyes) has gotten me out of trouble, or gotten me what I wanted one way or another, but it is the most dramatic example I can think of. I want to emphasize that I have never cried to get what I wanted on purpose—I have spent way more time trying not to cry than trying to cry, the only time I’ve ever cried on purpose has been in theater exercises. But I’m sure a lot of white girls in the same position I was in (with or without the undiagnosed ADHD and emotional disregulation) have realized the way they could use peoples responses to their tears to their advantage. They probably grow up to be Karens who use their tears to get out of traffic tickets, get free stuff from store managers, and to sic violent police on black people who inconvenience them. (Aside, the only time I have been pulled over as an adult, I was trying so hard not to cry that the cop thought I was acting suspicious and asked a bunch of extra questions. I still got the ticket.

I tell myself that those people use their emotions on purpose to manipulate people, that I'm different, I would never do that. But I have to wonder if some of those same women tell themselves the same thing after the fact. I don't think it's enough to avoid intentional manipulation and intentional harm-- not anymore. We as white women need to do be conscious enough of how our emotions are perceived and prioritized to act proactively to avoid unintentional harm as well. For those of us with ADHD, this may be harder than for neurotypicals, but that makes it all the more important for us to think actively about this. I'm not sure yet what this means for me personally, besides removing myself from a shared space if my emotions threaten to become the focus where they shouldn't be, but I would welcome input on this.

I want to talk about gender more generally here as well. ADHD is dramatically underdiagnosed in women, and I have to wonder if some part of this is because emotional disregulation lines up so nicely with the stereotypes of women’s emotions in the first place. Oh, you cry a lot? Of course you do, you’re a woman. One can only wonder how many oldey-timey diagnoses of “hysteria” were actually ADHD. Even now women with ADHD are usually misdiagnosed several times with things like depression or bipolar disorder before we are tested and diagnosed properly. This wasn’t my experience, but after basically doing a bunch of research and self-diagnosing I was able (thanks to a great deal of economic privilege) to pay to go directly to an ADHD specialist. I also walked into that office with an extremely thorough bullet-point list I had compiled of reasons I suspected I had ADHD—it was probably the easiest diagnosis the doctor ever did. So obviously having ADHD while female isn’t the best combination, but when it comes specifically to crying easily that being treated as relatively normal definitely meant I had an easier time with it than my brother did.

My brother (who is nonbinary and uses a variety of pronouns—I’ll probably alternate between they/them and he/him here because it is important to the story that they were perceived as male at the time) cries just as easily as I do, and just as often. When we were little kids, this didn’t make too much of a difference. They’re a couple years younger than me, and little kids are expected to cry more. They haven’t been diagnosed with ADHD, but they and I both strongly suspect for a variety of reasons, this included, that they have it too—I believe they were flagged for it in school, probably for frequently talking out of turn, but I don’t think they were ever tested formally. He got in trouble in school a lot more than I did, for similar outbursts, and while he got quite a few of those same counseling sessions (white privilege at work again), he got more actual discipline as well. But the perception of our tears landed differently, especially as we got older.

For the most part, the scorn leveled at my brother’s tears didn’t come from our parents. My mom, (who, while also not officially diagnosed, I can almost guarantee is where we got the ADHD genes from) cries as easily as they and I do, so she understands it. My dad would certainly prefer to think of himself as an enlightened modern man who would say it’s ok to cry, but he has his share of ingrained toxic masculinity despite himself. I don’t think I ever saw him tell my brother directly to “suck it up” or “act like a man,” but I do think after puberty or so he started responding to my brother’s tears with a sort of exasperation that he never directed at me.

The real difference was in how we were treated by our peers. By the time we got to high school, if I would cry at school, my peers (even ones who weren’t necessarily my friends) would probably ask what was wrong and try to help or provide comfort, or at least would leave me alone and give me time to pull myself together. When my brother cried at school, he was mocked. Relentlessly. Once bullies figured out that he cried easily, he was targeted and goaded specifically for it. They would find any little thing they could to get under his skin (right down to the most childish with rhyming nicknames) and troll him for fun. I wish I could say that I stood up for him, but I never did. I can tell myself this was because I didn’t see it happen in person, being two grades ahead, but I could have made an effort. Although, since he was almost certainly targeted at least in part for perceived failure to live up to masculine gender norms, I’m not sure if having an older sister try to come to the rescue would have helped or made things worse. At this point it’s years past, so I suppose speculation on what I could have or should have done is pretty moot at this point. Suffice it to say, this particular symptom which rarely did me any harm made my brother’s life a lot harder.

I may talk more about different perceptions of my brother’s and my ADHD symptoms in a later essay/ramble/entry/whatever, in particular how it affected out academic performances, but that’s for another time.

Again, I’m not sure if there are any greater conclusions here. There are a lot of ways emotional disregulation can present, and I really only addressed this one small aspect of excessive crying, but it is a good example of how even lesser-known ADHD symptoms can affect our lives in cascading ways, and the way people perceive those symptoms (due to various more visible identity factors) affects us as well. If you read all of this, thanks, and if you have any experiences you’d like to share with how your emotional disregulation has been perceived by others, I’d love to hear them. Until next time!

#actuallyadhd #adhd #actually adhd #emotional disregulation #privilege #white privilege #neurodivergence

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