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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

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Cheryl//she is my everything

Request: Hey can you do where the reader is a serpent and is dating Cheryl and Cheryl's friends likes the reader she brings Cheryl in since they're having a serpents Toni tells the reader what is Cheryl doing here so swangs and jughead makes jokes about Cheryl and she's tells them that she's dating her and they're not happy Toni makes her choose is it her or us she chooses Cheryl so she and Cheryl leaves but jughead tells If you walk out of the door your kicked out of the serpents she walks back she takes off her jacket she tells them "you guys were my family" but she's my everything. And leaves the serpents In shock thank you so much

hey! trigger warning: toxic/mean friends. it pained me to write my babies so mean, but it was kind of fun to do. apart from that, enjoy!

Cheryl squeezes your hand gently, her cold fingers jolting you into motion as you realize you haven’t moved from your position beside your bike.

She offers you a nervous smile and you mirror it, the two of you having a silent conversation in the dark parking lot of the Wyrm. The neon sign flickers unevenly, almost as if it’s trying to warn you, but you shake it off. Instead replacing your anxious smile with an excited one in an attempt to ignore the doubts creeping into your head.

Cheryl seems to pick up on your sudden excitement and you watch her visibly relax. Her faux fur covered shoulders fall and a giggle that sets your heart on fire passes her lips.

“They’re gonna love you!” You capture them in a sweet kiss, the taste of cherry leaving it’s mark on you and you cup her cheek in order to deepen it. “I know it.” You add once you pull away, but her eyes remain closed and her lips stay parted for a few seconds longer, still lost in the feeling of your slightly chapped lips against her painted ones.

In the low light, she looks like an angel, and you feel lucky to just be in her presence.

“You’re staring.” She says, slightly embarrassed and you blink at her.

“Sor-Sorry.” You stutter and look at the dusty ground in order to give you a few moments to recover. When you look at her again, she’s the one that’s staring and the two of you look at each other shyly when she tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Ready?”

She looks between you and the Wyrm, before taking a deep breath and nodding slowly.

The door opens with a creak and you poke your head around it before opening it fully. You smile at the warm atmosphere, the smell of beer and leather welcoming you home despite it making the air a little stale.

You say hi to a few of the older serpents and Cheryl follows your lead, putting on her politest smile and awkwardest wave. At most, you get a grunt in reply, but it’s more than you usually get so Toni must have given them half price drinks as long as they promise leave the bar clear so she can have her friends with her while she’s working.

Okay, deep breath. The first part is over, you’ve both made it through the door in one piece, maybe this won’t be as bad as you feared.

Ever since Cheryl officially introduced you to her friends, well what she calls the sad breakfast club, but in reality they are actually her friends, you’ve been waiting to introduce her to your own.

However, you soon realised that it may not be as easy as ‘hi, this is cheryl! you’ve probably seen her around. oh you have! great! she’s my girlfriend, now what are we doing?’

As much as you wished it would be.

Cheryl and the rest of the serpents have had a...complicated relationship, that you’re all still feeling the effects from. But you’ve been hyping Cheryl up to them for the past few months and they are your best friends after-all, so if you’re happy, they should be happy. Right?

Wrong.

“Hi!” You greet your friends, maybe a little too enthusiastically, however the only person that seems to notice is Toni, who stops drying the glass in her hand to make you your usual.

However the amused smile on her face is quickly replaced with a snarl once she sees the red head sat on the stool beside you, smiling anxiously back at her.

“What’s she doing here?” She asks through gritted teeth and slams the glass down.

Your eyes widen at her and Cheryl jumps a little in fear. The sudden loud noise causes Sweet Pea, Fangs and Jughead to stop their conversation and the three of them turn to look at Toni and then you, their eyebrows furrow in confusion until they notice Cheryl making their expressions harden.

“Oh God.” Fangs groans and downs the rest of his drink. Toni grabs him another and he mumbles a small thank you, but nobody looks away from Cheryl. Instead the four of them eye her suspiciously causing you to roll your eyes at them.

“She’s probably here to accuse us of being criminals, drunks or addicts.” Jughead mumbles and your eyes narrow at the dark haired boy.

“Maybe she should look a little closer to home then.” Sweet Pea adds and Cheryl shrinks in her seat.

“What the fu-” Your chest feels tight as their words rattle around in your head, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Cheryl is feeling.

“Come on, facist barbie, what do you want?” Toni cuts you off and they all look at her expectantly.

Her lips part and you notice the bottom one wobble as she fights to keep her composure. She knew this would be hard, the things she’s said and done have been cruel and she knows how lucky she is that you saw through all of that, forgave her and now make her feel more loved that she imagined was possible.

Your heart aches and anger bubbles in your chest. You knew your friends could be mean, but you never thought they could be cruel.

“We’re dating.” You deadpan, trying to keep your expression as unfazed as possible. They don’t deserve your hurt, and stupidly, part of you thinks that they’ll apologize and welcome her with open arms and a free drink for the inconvenience.

Now they look offended, betrayed even.

Sweet Pea scoffs and spins around so he’s staring straight at the bar. Fangs copies his movements and the two of them take a long sip from their drinks before shaking their heads.

Jughead’s eyebrows furrow as he looks between the two of you, but before he can say anything, Toni jumps in, her words laced with venom that sting as soon as they leave her lips.

“Really Y/n? After everything she did to us? She tormented us, accused us of all sorts and was just plain evil and you still decide to date her? Out of all the northsiders you could have had and you choose her?” She spits.

Cheryl stands, the wooden stool squeaking against the floor and causing all of you to look at her. She wipes her tears and grabs her bag, quickly mumbling a few apologies before walking away.

She catches the shoulder of an older serpent and adds another apology to her long list before stopping at the door and staring at you with pleading eyes. It’s only now that you feel the eyes of every serpent, young and old burning into your skin, but you’re not bothered by them.

You stand, just as quick as Cheryl had moments ago, but a hand gripping your arms stops you from moving and a small gasp leaves your lips when they squeeze, forcing you to look at the person attached to it.

“Choose. Us or her?” Toni says lowly and your eyes widen.

“You can’t be serious.” You scoff and pull your arm free, making your way towards Cheryl who offers you a watery smile.

“If you leave, you’re out for good.” Jughead says and your shoulders sag while you shake your head in disappointment

Cheryl squeezes your hand and shakes her head quickly. She knows how much the serpents mean to you, and she doesn’t want to be the reason you have to leave. She’d never want you to choose between her or them, but you’ve already made your decision. You did a long time ago.

You look at her with a reassuring smile before turning around and walking to where Jughead is stood, now surrounded by the rest of the people you once called friends.

You shrug your jacket off, the leather feeling heavier than usual and shove it into his chest.

“You guys may have been my family, but she is my everything.” You say, your voice low and full of anger before letting go and spinning on your heel.

Jughead scrambles to catch it while the rest of the serpents stare at you in shock as you leave hand in hand with Cheryl.

“You didn’t have to do that you know.” She says, worried that you’re going to regret it. But how could you ever regret anything to do with her?

“I know.” You reply. “I wanted to...because I want you.”

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@amberritonicole

#cheryl #cheryl imagine #cheryl x reader #cheryl x you #cheryl x y/n #cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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with-my-murder-flute · 3 years

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Sometimes you just have a really intense week and can’t stop thinking about how much trauma Lan Sizhui experienced by the time he was 5 and how being the Very Best Boy isn’t always healthy and then you need to write Lan Wangji the child psychologist and his incredibly anxious foster-son, y’know?

---

Bunny is on time-out again.

"You have to behave,” A-Yuan says in the voice of the potato-head, packing accessories into its body and shoving it into the bed of a soft plastic truck. “You get in the car now.” The Barbie van is already full, with a dinosaur and a fingerpuppet and one of the new larger Lego figures, and all their carefully packed luggage. A-Yuan does that. Over and over again, for each of his toys, he methodically packs and unpacks luggage. It’s his most common form of play, but not the most enjoyable.

A-Yuan’s breathing is rapid and shallow, so much so that he takes little gasps when he talks to himself. Routinely, predictably, he’s calmer when he turns away from the dollhouse. He’s most collected when selecting items to put into luggage, deciding on pieces of felt and Barbie shoes, but even with the vehicles he can lose himself enjoying the movement and progress of the cars. But underneath it all, there’s a jerkiness to his movements and a certain disconnected quality in his speech and body language that tells Lan Wangji that he’s pretty distressed.

It’s a step forward that Bunny is out at all, Lan Wangji knows. A behaviour therapist at A-Yuan’s last preschool made it a point to extinguish comfort-seeking behaviour towards the toy, which was becoming both careworn and grubby. A-Yuan’s had it at least since he was fourteen months old; it was with him when he came into care. Maybe his birth mother gave it to him. A-Yuan has obediently derogated the toy; if it’s left lying out, he can usually be trusted to throw it into a corner to prove what a big, grown-up boy he is.

Lan Wangji has very carefully gauged his son’s limits of tolerance for some things. When the car ride begins, he waves slightly and says, “Have a nice trip,” which makes A-Yuan glance back at him nervously, but it’s just mild enough, just unemotional enough, just tolerable enough, that it doesn’t provoke too much emotion. A-Yuan can keep pushing his vehicles around, and feel safe enough to drive one into Lan Wangji’s foot. He doesn’t persevere at that point, though; the trip has culminated and he gets up and walks to where he can see down the hallway to the front door, then wanders over to the slide.

A hundred million years ago, Lan Wangji thought he’d be a genetics researcher, like his uncle. Then he thought he’d be a neuroscientist, like his undergraduate thesis advisor. Then he thought he’d be a psychologist like his brother, who focuses entirely on assessment and the development of psychometric tools. For a little bit in grad school, he thought he’d counsel adults, like Wei Wuxian, until a classmate told Wei Wuxian that Dialectical Behavioural Therapy was “objectively badass” and he developed a fixation Lan Wangji could not follow. In retrospect his career path is absolutely obvious, resonating clearly through every bone of him, but it took him a very long time to realize he ought to work with children. It’s a little shocking that he, who was so bad at being a child, feels so prepared to be a father.

He smiles when A-Yuan looks at him anxiously from the slide, the moment of uncertainty as he lets go and begins sliding down triggering the need for reassurance. Lan Wangji is always waiting for that glance, waiting to return it. At A-Yuan’s last placement he’d been assessed as having an avoidant/dismissing attachment style, and despite its uncharitable and parent-shaming nature Lan Wangji can’t help but agree with what his husband had muttered over that one: “Were the parents even trying?”

The most vital task, and the hardest, is being present in the moment with a child. Not worrying about the future, not concerned with the past, not preoccupied with an external standard. He’s surprisingly bad at performing objective assessments with children, because he can see how unfair they all are. His greatest facility is something he built for himself, brick by painstaking brick: the willingness to sit with discomfort, and have faith that the chaos will not remain chaos. All his years of meditation have cultivated a still eye to see the world from, and the faith that patience and compassion will see him through.

Still smiling, still watching A-Yuan, Lan Wangji moves closer to the dollhouse. He carefully stars arranging its contents, righting knocked-over furniture and returning blankets to little wooden beds. He takes out a shark figurine, a couple of doll clothes, then puts Bunny on the floor near his shin. When A-Yuan comes close, magnetically drawn away from the slide, Lan Wangji reaches behind himself for the tea set they were using earlier, arranging cups and plates in front of him as though they’re going to have another tea party. He leaves the placement of the cups ambiguous; it’s not like Bunny is specifically invited, but there is a suggestive proximity, the way the other cup is in proximity to the shark. A-Yuan takes the teapot, and Lan Wangji solemnly holds his cup out while A-Yuan pours. For the sake of the ritual he accepts milk and refuses sugar and mimes stirring his invisible ingredients before taking a sip.

When A-Yuan is done drinking, Lan Wangji turns to Bunny, lifting a cup, and asks, “Would you like some tea?” A-Yuan noticed the moment that Lan Wangji’s hand moves, but as he addresses the rabbit A-Yuan seems to lose interest, which is to say, he slightly dissociates; blink and you missed it, but his eyes go a little glassy, he looks away, and then he acts on the adrenaline and gets up and wanders away.

The current theory about Bunny is like the theory of gravity, which is to say, it’s definitely pretty certain but it never hurts to be humble when it comes to knowledge. It’s honestly a little more speculative and psychodynamic than Lan Wangji is truly comfortable with, and A-Yuan’s case manager, possibly a little defensive over the last preschool placement, absolutely refuses to consider the possibility. But it still feels as essential and true as which way is up that Bunny performs the vital task of holding all the parts of A-Yuan that he blames for making the adults he cares about disappear. Bunny holds both the neediness and the hope for comfort that were so painful, his son shut them down in order to survive. Bunny was how A-Yuan mediated that desire, the source of his comfort, until he was three and a half, and the behaviour therapist.

A-Yuan knew his foster parents didn’t like him being disorganized and distressed and clingy, that they’d rather he behaved more like a six-year-old than four. Which he could, sometimes, because he had a ferocious intelligence which put him cognitively ahead of his emotional development. But he, well... adapted a little too quickly, one might say. Learned his lesson a little too well. Now they’re trying to reignite the behaviours that were extinguished.

Lan Wangji takes a risk, while A-Yuan is pulling picture books off the lower shelf, and lifts Bunny to his shoulder like a colicky infant. He doesn’t do anything else, aside from stroking the rabbit’s fur. He leaves it in place, with a little guiding help from his hand, when A-Yuan brings a Franklin book over and climbs into his lap, demanding to be read to. With interest he notes, halfway through the story, that Lan Wangji holding and petting Bunny doesn’t distress A-Yuan; as the story arc gets as exciting as Franklin books ever do (which is not, to be clear, a criticism) A-Yuan turns in his arms long enough to distractedly reach up and pet Bunny too, before turning back and trying to grab the book for himself.

Wondering how far he can push this, he keeps Bunny in place on his shoulder when they leave the room to check the clock, and A-Yuan goes to the living-room window to watch the street for Wei Wuxian. He looks curiously when Lan Wangji leans down to dig the remote out between the couch cushions, but easily redirects when Lan Wangji turns on the TV and goes to prepare dinner. Having the show on limits his anxious glances out the window to three or four a minute only, instead of sustained attention followed by a meltdown if he had to wait more than five minutes.

Lan Wangji thinks it would be easier to keep Bunny in place, on his shoulder like a dishtowel, if he had weighted plastic beads in his extremities, or if he was velcroed. He’s wary of changing anything about such a strong comfort object, though, so he just learns to move and stand differently to keep the rabbit from constantly falling off.

A-Yuan greets Wei Wuxian with the kind of terrified delight that looks like general indifference if you don’t know better; he runs over, stands uncertainly within arm’s reach of Wei Wuxian’s legs, and then dodges away before Wei Wuxian can reach down to him. Lan Wangji helpfully muted the show when he heard the door open--it gives A-Yuan the space to sit with his back to the room and self-regulate while the adults say hello.

“New friend?” his husband asks finally, an eyebrow raised.

“Modelling it as appropriate,” Lan Wangji says. “I thought perhaps he could tolerate us demonstrating that it is not discouraged.”

“Nice rabbit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says seamlessly, in a voice meant to be heard from the couch. “I like it. Makes me wish I had a rabbit.”

“They are very good friends,” Lan Wangji agrees. “This one is not mine, but he is keeping me company.”

“Nice,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Maybe whoever you borrowed him from will let him hang out with me sometime.”

Their audience does not comment on this, but they didn’t need him to. Wei Wuxian sets the table while Lan Wangji cooks. A-Yuan’s palate is still pretty limited, so he’s used to making three separate elements of one meal, and can live with cutting up cooked hot dog into little coins so long as he doesn’t have to eat them himself. They just supplement their kid’s diet with a multivitamin.

A-Yuan looks askance enough, when dinner is ready, that Lan Wangji takes Bunny off his shoulder and asks, “Where should he sit while we eat?”

There is a fourth chair, albeit completely out of proportion, but he doesn’t dare try it. Instead A-Yuan thinks for a minute, and points to the kitchen counter behind the table. Lan Wangji props Bunny up against the wall, observing dinner if not participating, and after a second to think, A-Yuan accepts this as normal and climbs into his chair. He is meticulously well-behaved.

Lan Wangji aches for his son, and hopes one day he’ll feel confident enough in their love to break the rules around them.

They eat.

#the untamed #my stuff #lan wangji #lan sizhui #AU where everybody's a therapist #the colleague from grad school lan wangji consults most with is nie huisang the family therapist #never saw that coming

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hellpark · 5 years

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KENNY: Oh god...

KENNY: Ohhh shit-- pick up the damn phone for chrissake--

TOKEN: Kenny...?

TOKEN: You alright?

KENNY: No I ain’t alright!

KENNY: Karen hung up on me!

TOKEN: Oh...

TOKEN: Does that mean you’re done with my phone, then?

KENNY: N-no, no I gotta try n’ call her again.

KENNY: Just.

KENNY: Just gimmie a sec, she’s gotta pick up...

TOKEN: Right... take your time, dude..

KENNY: There’s no time to take!

KENNY: She hung up right after she said some damn stranger was in the house!

TOKEN: Oh, jeez...

KENNY: God dammit, I think she turned her phone off...!

KENNY: Oh god oh god, what the hell am I gonna do thirty fucking miles out of town?!

TOKEN: It’ll be okay Kenny, I’m sure--

KENNY: No, it’s not gonna be okay!

KENNY: Who knows who or what is in that house with her, look at where we are right now!

CRAIG: Hey.

CRAIG: Do you guys wanna shut up, maybe?

CRAIG: You’re distracting me from my shit.

TOKEN: Oh, sorry Craig...

TOKEN: Kenny’s having some issues with Karen, I think.

CRAIG: Uhuh...

CRAIG: I don’t care.

CRAIG: [grumble grumble]

CRAIG: (Can’t even browse tumblr without someone getting hay shoved up their ass right in front of me...)

CRAIG: (Why are either of them even still awake.)

CRAIG: (Why do I have to be cooped up in a stupid barn with all these people right now...)

CRAIG: (Why is--)

CRAIG:

CRAIG: Whhhh...

CRAIG: W--

CRAIG: That’s m--

CRAIG: That’s my blog.

CRAIG: This is on my blog.

CRAIG: Th--

CRAIG: ...

CRAIG: WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING ON MY BLOG???

CRAIG: I--

KENNY: Craig???

KENNY: What’s the matter, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell so loud in your life!

STAN: Yeah, shut the hell up over there, some of us are trying to sleep.

CRAIG: ...Y... you shut up...!

CRAIG: Fuck your sleep, I have a problem!

STAN: Yeah, I know, we kind of got teleported here by a freaking demon, dude.

STAN: We’ve all got problems right now, you’re not special.

CRAIG: I’ll kick your ass!

STAN: Go ahead, it’s already facing right towards you.

STAN: I’ll even wiggle it a little to make it a moving target, if you wanna make a game out of it.

CRAIG: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

TOKEN: Jesus, dude, what’s wrong?

CRAIG: Besides Stan Marsh being as stupid as ever?!

KENNY: We mean what the hell made you yell so loud, dude???

CRAIG: Oh, I’ll tell you!

CRAIG: This guy is posting shitty selfies of himself on my blog!

CRAIG: MY blog, and he has the audacity to post them with--

CRAIG: W-with...

CRAIG: With him sitting right next to him like it’s nothing!

CRAIG: There’s a circus in my house and I’ll bet you money it was that stupid Tweek demon guy who led us all away so they could party it up in my room!

CRAIG: We should have never let that stupid goat take us all the way out here.

CRAIG: Now they’re all fiddling with my shit and probably having a laugh about it, look at him in this picture!

CRAIG: Look at who’s in the fucking picture with him!!!

KENNY: OH GOD...

CRAIG: Oh god is right!

CRAIG: They’re messing with all my shit!!!

CRAIG: I’m freaking the hell out!

CRAIG: I’m so fucking close to kiCKING STAN’S STUPID ASS STOP SHAKING YOUR BUTT AROUND YOU FUCKING DELIRIATE.

STAN: maybe shut up first lol

KENNY: OH MY GOD, KAREN!

KENNY: SHE SAID SHE WAS HANGING OUT WITH YOUR SISTER IN YOUR HOUSE, CRAIG.

KENNY: SHE HUNG UP AND WON’T ANSWER MY CALLS!

TOKEN: They tried to chuck us all off the side of a bridge, who knows what they could be doing right now?!

CRAIG: TOUCHING MY SHIT IS WHAT THEY’RE DOING!!!

CRAIG: Touching my shit, putting pictures of themselves and Thomas’s corpse sitting in my bedroom!

TOKEN: Craig, I think this is a little more important than them touching your computer!

TOKEN: They could have hurt your guys’ sisters!

CRAIG: BUT LOOK AT WHAT HE POSTED ON MY BLOG!!!!!

KENNY: Craig, I know it’s probably goddamn traumatizing to see that shit right now!!!

KENNY: I know it’s hard for you to grasp this sorta thing during a meltdown.

KENNY: I’m sorry you’re having a difficult time with all of this crap, but there’s people actually in danger in your house right now, man!

CRAIG: Don’t tell me I’m having a meltdown!

TOKEN: Oh my god, okay--

TOKEN: Kenny, let’s just pull ourselves away for a minute here.

CRAIG: Don’t turn your backs on me like that!!!

TOKEN: Just ignore Craig for a second.

TOKEN: There’s demons in Craig’s house, Karen and Craig’s sister are in Craig’s house-- what do you think should be done?

TOKEN: What can we possibly do from here?

KENNY: I ain’t got a damn clue!

KENNY: We gotta get someone over there to help them out!

TOKEN: Okay, well maybe that isn’t such a good idea?

TOKEN: We’ve seen what they can do, right?

TOKEN: Is it smart to drag someone else into this?

KENNY: Token, you don’t have a freakin’ sister, you don’t know what this is like.

TOKEN: Okay. You’re right.

TOKEN: But I don’t know if--

KENNY: Wait.

TOKEN: What is it, man?

KENNY: I know exactly who to call.

KENNY: Ain’t no way he’s tangled all up in this mess yet, neither.

KENNY: Won’t gonna get his ass whooped neither.

TOKEN: Okay, well who’s that?

KENNY: My boyfriend.

DOGPOO: snrrk nsnzznnzzzzzzzzzzz...,.

[ ♫ I’M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WORLD ♫ ]

[ ♫ LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT’S FANTASTIC ♫ ]

DOGPOO: fhnfnhmmghfghg

DOGPOO: [yawn]

DOGPOO: An unknown caller disrupting my sleep, now...?

DOGPOO: Just who on earth could be calling me at this devilish hour of the night...?

DOGPOO: Mmhhello--

KENNY: Hushpuppy stain in the rug, we got some demon huntin’ to do!

KENNY: Grab yer damn shooter n’ get ready to pump lead!!!

DOGPOO: KENNY???

KENNY: Damn right!

DOGPOO: DEMON HUNTING?

DOGPOO: Y’AIN’T PULLIN ME, ARE YOU NOW?

KENNY: Hell no, I ain’t whistlin’ no dixie over here, I’m a gallon o’ gas aways from town and the fuckin’ devil’s stampin’ his hooves in town!

KENNY: Get your red ryder and get ready to shoot some damn eyes out!

DOGPOO: You sound oh so serious, I hardly recognize the tone, honeypot!

DOGPOO: Your words shot me wide awake quicker than the smell of pie in the morning, I just can’t resist a shootin’ with you!

KENNY: I’m serious!

KENNY: I’m cooped up in a barn outta town, and there’s demons runnin’ amok with my damn sister out there!

KENNY: She’s up in a heap of danger and I ain’t got nobody in the world I’d trust more than you to keep her safe right now.

KENNY: Never been more serious in my life, ragamuffin.

DOGPOO: Oh.

DOGPOO: Karen’s caught in the throes of the devil, is she now?

DOGPOO: Seems we really ain’t playing rockahorse.

KENNY: I don’t joke around when it comes to who I love, don’t go reckonin’ I’d do it to you.

DOGPOO: I see.

DOGPOO: Well then, I’d be duller than the heel of my boot if I didn’t think I could do something about that, wouldn’t I?

DOGPOO: A demon or two doesn’t quite sound like nothin’ a shell can’t handle.

KENNY: Dogpoo, these are serious folks you’re gonna be ditzin’ around with.

KENNY: Damn near chucked me n’ my friends off a bridge a couple hours back.

DOGPOO: I still don’t see the issue here, darlin’.

DOGPOO: You might have death’s hand hovering your shoulder, but one look at me and they’ll be wishing they were busy chopping onions instead.

DOGPOO: I’ll get your sister out of the slick, just you wait.

KENNY: Alright. I trust you, mudskip.

KENNY: You’re the rankest varmint this side of Colorado, if anybody’s gonna get them runnin’, it’s you.

DOGPOO: A threat is nothing more than a man who’s pride is in his hands, not his skin.

KENNY: You really grabbin’ your shotty, yeah?

DOGPOO: Would you expect anything less after you’ve excited me so?

DOGPOO: I’ve got an itchy finger just beggin’ for a trigger to pull now.

KENNY: Okay, good.

KENNY: But keep them earholes wide for me, water nugget.

KENNY: You gotta be real damn careful.

DOGPOO: I believe we’ve been over this already, Kenny.

DOGPOO: Am I to understand you’re doubting my abilities here?

KENNY: Not at all.

KENNY: These people ain’t just strangers, though.

KENNY: Well, most of them, anyhoo.

KENNY: You will know one of them, for sure.

KENNY: I ain’t got a clue on how many of them are there, but they’re all stuck up in Tucker’s house.

KENNY: Stick your barrel in the nose of any horned bastard you so damn please, but for the love of all mighty...

KENNY: Don’t let that poor bastard Thomas stick around them.

DOGPOO: You’ll need to be more specific than that, sweetie pie.

DOGPOO: There’s a few Thomas’ in this town that come to mind off of the top of my head.

KENNY: Look, I ain’t gonna dilly dally here-- you’ll know what I mean if you see ‘em.

DOGPOO: Alright, so your shopping list here’s one Karen, one Thomas, and a face o’ lead for a demon or two, huh?

KENNY: Craig’s sister’s there with Karen.

DOGPOO: Only logical, considering what residence I’m being pointed off to.

KENNY: I don’t care what’s done.

KENNY: Just get those kids outta there.

DOGPOO: Anything for you, sunshine.

DOGPOO: Ain’t a day where you can’t count on me.

KENNY: I know.

KENNY: I love you.

DOGPOO: Love you too.

DOGPOO: Well, I suppose there isn’t anything like a two AM witch hunt...

DOGPOO: Oh, poor Kenny... whatever have you gotten yourself into this time.

#south park #kenny mccormick #dogpoo #dogpoo petuski #craig tucker #token black #stan marsh #hellpark

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 26: Accustomed

Chapter 25

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On August fourth, the actual date of their one-month anniversary, Claire was working until ten at night. When she shoved the key in the lock and shouldered the door open, she expected to see Mrs. Lickett on the couch with a book as she always was after Faith was put to bed. What greeted her had her frozen in the doorway. Mrs. Lickett was talking animatedly with Jamie.

He shot up from his seat immediately, swiping something off the coffee table. Mrs. Lickett silenced herself, looking back and forth between the younger people like she was watching puppies play together.

“Happy one-month, Sassenach.”

Claire realized through her bleary vision that he’d swiped up a bouquet of flowers. She felt like her bones were melting in her body, and she just wanted to throw herself on him and weep with exhaustion and tenderness.

“I’ll leave you two…” Mrs. Lickett said, getting off the couch. “Nice talking to you, Jamie. Goodnight, Claire.”

Claire stammered an incoherent goodnight, and Mrs. Lickett closed the front door, Claire having had it open this whole time.

“I came after Faith was asleep so she wouldna get all excited, so dinna fash about that. Mrs. Lickett texted me.”

In any other situation, Claire might have laughed at the thought of the two of them texting one another.

“There’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge if ye’d like. I can also go, if ye wish. I ken ye had a long day, that’s why we celebrated on Saturday, so if ye’d rather I — ”

He paused, and only then did Claire even realize she’d actually started weeping.

“Claire? What’s wrong?” The flowers dropped from his hand, landing on the couch, and in three quick strides he was upon her, hands gripping her shoulders. “What is it, lass? Did ye lose many patients?”

Claire sniffled, laughing at her own hysterics. “No...well, yes, a few but that’s not…” She wiped her eyes, then cupped his face. “You’re just….so sweet, Jamie.”

“Oh.” The concern wiped itself off his face, replaced by vague dumbfoundedness. “Ye’re alright, then?”

Claire nodded vigorously. “I’m...I’m perfect, Jamie.” She kissed him, wet snotty face and all. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She nuzzled her nose with his.

Jamie exhaled with relief, nuzzling her back. “I’m glad ye’re glad,” he said with a laugh. “I ken we celebrated already, but it felt wrong to not see ye on the day. Even if it’s just fer a bit. I couldna stop thinking about ye all day.” His thumbs rubbed circles on her shoulders.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

They kissed again, Claire threading her arms around his neck and Jamie threading his around her waist. When they pulled apart, Claire laughed wetly. “Shall we get out of the doorway?”

They did, making their way to the kitchen where Claire arranged the flowers in a vase while Jamie got flutes for their champagne. Claire remarked over and over how beautiful the flowers were, and Jamie retorted nearly every single time that they weren’t nearly as beautiful as she was. They clinked their glasses, toasting to one another, and they finished the bottle on the couch, intermittently kissing sloppily and laughing at the episodes of Friends that TBS was playing.

When the bottle was finished, Claire had herself wrapped around Jamie like a koala, and she found herself weeping again. When Jamie prodded, she sniffled and looked up at him.

“I don’t know, you just...you do so much for me.” She wiped her eyes. “I feel like I don’t...I don’t do enough.”

“Sassenach…”

“I just want you to know how much you mean to me,” she finished. “Even if I’m terrible at…”

“Claire.”

That stopped her. Not Sassenach. Claire.

“Ye’re no’ terrible at anything.” He wiped wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs, looking into her eyes.

“But do you know…? Do you really know that you’re...you’re so important to me?”

“Aye, mo ghraidh. I know.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “I know.”

And then, like the person desperate for physical connection that she was, Claire pounced on him, tearing his shirt off and letting him tear off hers, and her bra, as she straddled him. The blazing warmth of his bare chest pressing her breasts flat was almost too much to bear. They kissed fiercely, Jamie raking his nails up and down her back, causing her to shiver and groan. It didn’t take long at all for Jamie to stand up, carrying Claire bodily with him. He paused for a moment to adjust her legs around his waist so she wouldn’t slip, and they both giggled. Then Jamie walked into the bedroom, kissing Claire all the while, and he laid her on the bed like she was made of glass and meant to be worshipped.

She didn’t wait for invitation before stripping her bottom half, and Jamie did the same before joining her on the bed. He teased her nipples with his mouth and rolled her clit in his fingers for a while, until Claire was choking on her own moans, bucking her hips into the air, desperate for him. He entered her, and she came immediately from the sheer release after a long day and the build up he’d given her. Jamie let her get her bearings before moving within her, and then he was reaching between them, pounding and rubbing her mercilessly until they were both crying out their release into each other's mouths, biting on each other’s lips to keep each other quiet.

Claire was seeing stars, the darkness of the night around them consuming her senses. Jamie’s warmth was all around her, surrounding her. He rolled over next to her and gathered her against him, and without thinking, she threaded her legs with his, nuzzling into his chest and kissing his sternum. In that kiss, she said:

Please know. Please know how much I care.

Jamie’s answering kiss to the crown of her head, accompanied with a large hand rubbing up and down the smooth expanse of her back answered:

Aye, mo ghraidh. I know. I know.

——

A persistent banging noise was what woke Claire the next morning. She groaned with annoyance at first, pulling the blankets over her ears, but then she felt someone shaking her.

“Sassenach,” Jamie whispered. “I think Mrs. Lickett is here.”

Claire’s eyes shot open, and she sat up. “Oh shit,” she hissed. “That’s Faith outside the bedroom, isn't it?”

“Aye, indeed.”

“Shit shit shit…” Claire scrambled from bed and breathed in exasperation upon remembering she’d fallen asleep stark naked. Faith banged more insistently on the door, moaning in frustration. “Coming, lovie! One second!” Claire threw up a prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that Jamie had thought to lock the door behind them last night.

She tore through her closet for a robe and yanked it on, then turned to see Jamie was getting dressed.

“Don’t move,” she breathed. Jamie froze with one leg still halfway into his pants.

“Ehm…why?”

“I don’t want Faith to know you’re here. She’ll never let you leave.”

Jamie bit his lip to stifle a laugh, finishing with his pants.

“Just…get in the corner. Far away.” She gestured absurdly with her hands, pushing him farther and farther back from several feet away. “Don’t make a sound. She will figure it out, and there will be a meltdown.”

Jamie pantomimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Claire rolled her eyes before unlocking and opening the door, just a crack. Faith was way ahead, grasping the edge of the door the second she could, and trying to thrust it open.

“Good morning, Faith,” Claire said warmly. “No, no, we can’t cuddle this morning, I’m sorry darling.”

Faith groaned, giving another sharp push that would have had Claire stumbling backward if she hadn’t seen it coming. “Don’t push me, Faith,” Claire said softly, but firmly. “Mrs. Lickett is here, come on.”

Claire did a little pushing of her own, shuffling Faith away with her legs and prying little hands from the door. She quickly shut the door again behind her as soon as she was certain that no fingers would get crushed, and she scooped Faith into her arms.

“Coming!” Claire called as she settled Faith onto her hip and scuttled into the living room. She put Faith down so she could unlock and open the door, and she cringed to think how unhinged she must look to the poor woman.

“Good morning, so sorry,” Claire said, flustered. “I overslept, clearly.”

“That’s alright,” Mrs. Lickett assured, stepping inside.

“Ehm, just a few things,” Claire said with an awkward chuckle. Before she could continue, a scratching noise filled her ears, and she whirled around to see Angus scratching on her bedroom door.

Of course he knows.

“Angus! Come!” Claire said, her voice thin with panic. The dog obeyed immediately, of course, well trained as he was, but he definitely knew something was up.

“Uh…” Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So, there is, ehm…J-A-M-I-E is H-E-R-E,” Claire said carefully, deliberately spelling any words that might trigger excitement for Faith. Realization illuminated Mrs. Lickett’s face, and she nodded, lips taut with the effort of stifling a smile. “So I, uh…just need you to keep her busy while I get dressed and get H-I-M…O-U-T.”

“Right,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Have her feed Angus first and foremost and then…how about a bath? She never runs out of the tub.” Bath time was indeed one of Faith’s favorite activities; she treated it like her own little ocean, playing mermaid and squirting water with her bath toys. Getting her out of the tub was like trying to get her out of the Abernathys’ swimming pool.

“Sounds good,” Mrs. Lickett agreed. “I’ll shut the door for good measure.”

“Perfect.” Claire looked behind her to see Faith on the living room floor with her Barbies, arranging them on the coffee table using some filing system that Claire would never understand. She then watched in horror as Faith pushed a bra and two t-shirts off the coffee table. She darted forward and snatched them up before Mrs. Lickett could notice, though she likely already did. “Okay baby, listen to Mrs. Lickett, Mummy needs to get ready for work.”

With that, Claire shuffled away back into her bedroom, careful to only open the door just enough for her to fit in, locking it behind her. When she turned around, Jamie was just sitting on the bed, still shirtless for obvious reasons, grinning like an absolute fool.

“I’m glad you think this is funny!” Claire whispered harshly, throwing his shirt at him, but her own smile betrayed her.

“It’s like Jenny sneaking Ian out of our parents’ house,” he said quietly, biting his lip to contain a chuckle. “Couple of teenagers we are.”

Claire rolled her eyes, making her way to the closet. “You wouldn’t be smiling like that if she started crying when you left because she found you.”

“Aye, I ken,” he said. “It’s just…” He sighed, leaning back on the pillows. “Christ, Sassenach, my wame’s been doing tumbles since the second I woke up this morning, then watching ye fret and flit about…”

“Oh, stop…” Claire blushed, throwing clothes and fresh scrubs to pack onto the bed.

“And now ye’re just gonna flounce about in that wee robe like a temptress, to taunt me?”

“Please, you know I threw this on for any reason but to tempt you.” Claire rolled her eyes as she untied the belt, then she paused. “Do I need to make you turn around so you don’t get drool on the bed?”

Jamie grinned sheepishly, though he didn’t avert his eyes. Claire turned to face him, one eyebrow raised.

“I mean it, sir. I’m already running late, because of you.”

“I can control myself!” Jamie said in mock offense. “D’ye take me fer a heathen?”

“I might,” she grinned slyly, finally opening the robe and sliding it off herself. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and she huffed. “I can’t believe I don’t have time for a shower, I feel disgusting…”

“Dinna look it.” She chanced a glance up to see Jamie laying back, hands behind his head, taking in her body like a royal feast.

“I’m sure I positively reek,” she went on, pulling on underwear and clasping her bra.

“Come closer, I’ll check for ye.”

She looked up at him again, aghast. “You are shameless.”

“Never said I wasna.”

Claire scoffed and rolled deodorant on before pulling her shirt over her head. She looked up to see a tiny pout on his face, though the evidence of what her naked body had done to him was still plainly visible.

“Ruined your fun, did I?” Claire said, tutting her tongue in mock sympathy. “Poor lad.” She pulled her capris on and started shoving the scrubs into her bag.

Jamie chuckled softly, but she could see how his eyes had darkened, could see the strain that his arousal was placing on his entire body. The veins in his neck protruded, his face was red.

“You know,” Claire began, trying to straighten the absolute mess of curls atop her ahead in the mirror full length mirror on her closet door. “We do have to wait until Faith is in the tub. You’ll hear once the water starts running, and only when it stops are you all clear to leave.” She gave up on her hair and decided to tie it in a knot atop her head, shoving in a few pins and pulling on a headband for good measure.

“So?” Jamie said, cocking an eyebrow at her from behind her in the mirror.

“So…” she turned around slowly. “I might be able to take care of that little problem.” She flashed her eyes at the tent in his pants, and he visibly and audibly gulped. “But only if you promise not to make me a mess again.”

He nodded eagerly. “Aye, lass, I promise.”

Claire smirked and chuckled wickedly, approaching the bed. “Go on, take them off.”

Jamie gulped again and lifted his hips to pull his pants and boxers down. A rushing noise filled the air.

“Ah,” Claire said. “That’s the bathtub.”

Jamie’s cock sprang free, and Claire knelt on the bed. “But I’m not worried about taking too long.”

Jamie’s eyes flashed with dark indigence, as if he’d like to punish her for saying such a wicked thing, but knowing that he could not, given the promise he’d made. Claire ran her hand up the length of his inner thigh.

“Oh,” Claire said, pausing her hand right before reaching the desired destination. “And you must be very quiet.” She wrapped her hands around his base, delighting in his quiet hiss. “Can you do that?”

He nodded dumbly, swallowing again. She gave a few languid strokes before leaning down and kissing the tip.

“Good lad.”

——

Claire spat into the sink and checked her breath for the third time out of sheer paranoia. Mrs. Lickett was sitting on Faith’s little step-stool next to the bathtub while Faith was playing in the warm, bubbly water. Claire watched as she fully submerged herself for the millionth time, flapping her little hands as if she had an entire swimming pool’s room to do laps in there. Satisfied with her breath, Claire finally rinsed her mouth and straightened a few wild curls, even while fully knowing they’d pop out the second she stepped out into the humidity (humidity; something she’d never experienced in England, and decided she hated).

Claire waited on her knees for Faith to pop back up from under the water, greeting her with a little “Boo!” when she did. Faith started, blinking a bit, and Claire worried she’d actually given her poor girl a fright. But then her absent face melted into that familiar smile, and Claire laughed.

“Okay, baby. Mummy is going to work now. You’ll be a good girl today, yes?”

Faith ignored her, slapping her hands at the surface of the water and reaching for her Ariel mermaid Barbie.

“Hey.” Claire picked up the doll herself, redirecting Faith’s attention. “Look at my eyes.” Faith reached for the doll, quite unhappy with Claire’s decision to withhold it. “Be a good girl today. Yes?”

Claire gave a thumbs up, and Faith whined.

“Faith Julia.”

Faith gave a hasty thumbs up, even as she continued whining and reaching for the doll.

“Good enough,” Claire remarked to Mrs. Lickett, who chuckled softly. “Okay, kisses.” Claire kissed the top of Faith’s wet head, and Faith returned with a wet sloppy kiss to her cheek. Claire dramatically wiped it away, eliciting more giggles from Faith.

With one final goodbye, Claire left the bathroom, grabbed her bag from the couch, and was out the front door. She locked it behind her then turned around to see Jamie leaning on his car, arms crossed, like some high-school jackass stereotype. It looked much hotter on him. She shook her head as she descended the stairs, laughing.

She’d rushed him back into his clothes when the tub stopped running, and then she’d shoved him out the front door. He’d gone, but not without pulling her in for several sloppy kisses, even as she was attempting to shut the door in his face, and not without stopping to give Angus far too many scratches and pats.

Evidently, that rushed goodbye was not good enough for him, because there he stood, waiting for her.

“Still haven’t had enough, Fraser?” Claire teased, unlocking her car and throwing her bag in the backseat.

Jamie sauntered over to her. “Never.”

She hummed in amusement, and he pulled her in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“I really do have to go,” she said breathlessly. “I’m lucky if I’m even on time at this point, let alone early enough to get into my scrubs.”

“I’d apologize, but…” He kissed her again, and she groaned in either annoyance or something else. “I’m no’ very sorry fer any of it.”

“Hmph.” She gave him one final peck before getting into her car and shutting the door. As she started the car, he rapped on the window with a knuckle. She sighed with annoyance, but her smile betrayed her, as usual. “What?”

“Happy anniversary, Sassenach.”

She could literally feel her face melting into that stupid, soft expression reserved for only his most endearing moments (which was nearly all his moments, admittedly).

“Happy anniversary, Jamie.”

She leaned out the window to kiss him one more time, then started rolling in reverse, even with her head still craned toward him. He waved until she couldn’t see him in her rear view mirrors anymore, and she rolled up her window.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp…

Claire gulped and turned the air conditioning up higher.

One month, only one month…

And you are so, so far gone.

——

For cooking night that week, Jamie brought over ingredients for homemade pizza. Faith very much enjoyed rolling the dough, and it was difficult to simultaneously stop her from playing with it like play-doh and keep her from eating it. She also had fun putting innumerable slices of pepperoni on the pizza. The original plan was to split the pie into sections and have each of the three of them put on whatever toppings they wished on their own section, but Faith’s pepperoni could not be contained. Then when Jamie tried to put peppers and onions on his section, Faith pushed his hands away, whining, and no amount of coaxing could get her to relent. There was no reasoning with her; regardless of the fact that she would only eat two of the small slices, this entire pizza was Faith’s to dictate, end of discussion.

To compromise, Jamie cooked his and Claire’s vegetables of choice in a pan on the stove to sprinkle on once the pieces were cut.

“It’s a good thing I like pepperoni,” Claire remarked wryly.

“Aye. I do too.”

Claire did not even allow Jamie anywhere near the bedroom that night; they’d agreed no staying the night, accidentally or not, when Claire had to work the next morning. They’d already embarrassed poor Mrs. Lickett enough for one lifetime. For Saturday night, however, they had a plan. On pizza night, they’d both told Faith that Jamie would be “sleeping over” on Saturday night, meaning he would be there when Faith woke up in the morning, and that he would leave sometime in the afternoon. Faith hardly seemed to even be paying attention, but Claire was almost certain she’d retained it.

It was important to Claire — to both of them, really, to normalize Jamie’s presence in the home, overnight or no, so Faith didn’t bounce off the walls every single time. Come Saturday afternoon in Jamie’s car, Claire was satisfied that Faith was properly prepared. They’d just dropped Faith off at the Abernathy house in her bathing suit, ready for a full day in the pool with her friend while Mummy and Jamie went on their date. Claire beamed at Jamie in the driver’s seat.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said flippantly. “Just…excited. Happy. I don’t know.”

Jamie took her hand and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes on the road. “So am I, lass.”

Their hands remained intertwined for the rest of the drive until they arrived at Jamie’s chosen date location for the weekend: the stables.

He’d promised her that night on the carousel that he’d take her riding for real, and today he was making good on that promise. Staff rotated who had to come and care for the horses on weekends, and this week was Jamie’s turn, so they’d be alone.

“I’m there every weekend anyway,” Jamie had explained, “for Donas. But this way we ken we’re alone.”

The wink he’d given her sent a shiver down her spine.

Jamie had also packed a picnic lunch for them to have on the grounds, complete with a light whisky. They departed Jamie’s car in the parking lot, and Claire marveled at the lot’s emptiness with no one else around. Claire started to make her way toward the welcome center, then Jamie gently took her hand. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he answered:

“This way.”

They bypassed the building and he took Claire to a gate, then produced a clanking ring of keys from the pocket of his shorts.

“This is the more direct route to the horses,” he said, shuffling through keys. “But if ye need the restroom, dinna fash.” He unlocked the gate, removed the key, and held up a different key. “I’ve got the key fer that, too.”

Claire chuckled and followed him through the gate, waiting for him to lock it again behind them. Jamie led them past the stable that Claire knew Pippi was kept in.

“We dinna keep Donas where we take the bairns,” Jamie said. “That’d be a recipe fer disaster.”

Claire’s brow practically raised to her hairline; she was almost nervous to meet such a notorious creature.

“Spoiled beast practically has the whole stable to himself,” Jamie said it in a chastising manner, but his sheepish grin gave him away.

“You’re quite fond of him,” Claire said.

“Aye,” Jamie said, handing Claire the picnic basket so he could open the doors to the barn. “One of my best friends.”

He winked before he heaved the doors open, but Claire was not at all certain he was joking. The thought had bubbles rippling in her chest:

My boyfriend, best friends with a horse.

“Could you be any more endearing?” she said, following him inside.

“Huh?”

She chuckled. “Never mind.”

Claire noticed immediately that out of the eight stalls in this stable, only four of them had horses in them, where the other stable was always full. Claire took in the sight of a regal white mare, a beautiful brown and white spotted Appaloosa, a silver Andalusian, and an enormous, terrifying black stallion, the stalls next to it deliberately empty. In fact, the four stalls on that side were empty save for him; the other three horses all on the other side.

Claire gaped for a moment. “Donas, I take it?”

“Aye.” Jamie swelled with pride.

“He’s…beautiful, Jamie. Really.” Claire had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him, somehow convinced he would bite her hand off.

“Aye, bit rough around the edges to be sure, but sweet as anything when ye get to know him.”

“He…doesn’t look like he wants to get to know me.”

Donas huffed, stomping his front right hoof. Jamie laughed.

“He’d no’ get to know anyone if he had any say in the matter. Lucky fer us,” Jamie put a hand on Donas’s muzzle, looking into his eyes, and the beast leaned into his touch. “He kens who is master is.”

Claire’s heart warmed at the sight; they really did look like a couple of chums.

“Now, Donas,” Jamie said sternly. “I’ve a lass here, and I’d no’ like to be embarrassed. I ken ye dinna care what she thinks of ye, but at least fer me, could ye no’ bite her?”

The warmth immediately disappeared, and Claire’s eyes bugged out of her head. Jamie laughed out loud, and Donas tossed his head away from the sound. Jamie pulled his head back, holding it in place and stroking soothingly, even as he continued to laugh.

“I’m teasing, Sassenach. He willna actually bite yer heid off. At least I dinna think he will.”

Claire eyed him suspiciously. “Is this going to be one of those things where if this doesn’t work,” she gestured between herself and Donas, “then this doesn’t work?” She gestured between herself and Jamie.

Jamie barked another laugh. “Well if that’s true, ye’re no’ trying very hard to keep me!”

“Jamie…”

“Come on, Sassenach. Ye canna be so afeared. He can smell it on ye. It feeds his ego to ken that ye fear him.” He gave the thick, black neck a solid pat. “And that just spurs him on to be more of an arse.”

Claire straightened out, sticking her nose in the air. “I’m not afraid.”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “Then show me.”

She took a deep breath and then approached the pair of them, careful not to shrink or falter in the slightest.

“I can do this,” she said calmly, slowly stretching her hand out, taking a quick peek at his ears to make sure they were not pinned back (they weren’t). “This is just like trying to talk to the misogynist pricks at work. Can’t let him know he gets to me.”

Jamie made an amused Scottish noise. “My horse is a misogynist now?”

“Very well could be. Have you ever asked him?”

Jamie laughed, but pointedly kept himself still and quiet as possible so as to not sway Donas’s opinion of the hand approaching him.

“Don’t worry,” Claire said calmly and evenly. “I mean no harm. I care about your master very much.” She let her hand hover under Donas’s enormous, flaring nostrils. “I just want to be friends. Acquaintances, even. For Jamie’s sake.” She flicked her eyes to Jamie to find him grinning like a fool at her, his pupils blown wide. But then:

“Dinna break eye contact,” he hissed, and Claire immediately rectified it. “He doesna like that.”

“Of course he doesn’t.”

Claire had to repeatedly tell herself, he will not bite my hand off, he will not bite my hand off, in order to remain still and have any hope of keeping the smell of fear off of her. Then, like watching a miracle unfold, Donas tapped his wet nose into Claire’s cupped hand for a split second. Claire laughed triumphantly, and Jamie beamed with pride.

“He doesn’t hate me!” Claire knew better than to say he likes me; that would certainly be pushing it. She knew enough from riding with Uncle Lamb that if a horse touched your hand, it was an invitation to be pet, so she flipped her hand and reached forward.

She stopped, however, when Jamie swiftly grabbed her forearm.

“What?”

“He showed ye he doesna hate ye, an achievement in and of itself,” Jamie said, his eyes full of mirth. “Let’s no’ push our luck by trying to get him to like ye. No’ just yet.”

Claire sighed with annoyance, letting her hand drop. “Fine.” She carefully stepped away. “Pompous brat.”

Jamie laughed out loud, giving said pompous brat another solid pat. “Careful now, Sassenach, or he willna be so gracious next time.”

“Gracious my arse,” Claire grumbled.

Jamie clicked his tongue and left Donas’s side to gather her in his arms and kiss her gently. “Ye’re no’ gonnae be grumpy the rest of our date because a horse doesna like ye?”

“No,” Claire said, but even she didn’t believe herself.

“Och…” Jamie cupped her face in his hands. “Ye ken I canna resist that wee pout.”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Aye, ye are.” Jamie laughed through the words. “Come here.”

He tipped her face up into his and kissed her much less gently, immediately demanding entrance for his tongue. She obliged eagerly, even though somewhere in the back of her mind she was thinking about how the horses were all watching them. Jamie’s hands moved from her face to her hair, tugging greedily and groaning into his mouth, wanting to swing a leg over his hip right there in the middle of the stable.

An indignant huff interrupted them, even as Jamie’s excitement grew. They pulled apart, and Claire looked over Jamie’s shoulder to see Donas stamping his hooves again.

“Seriously?” Claire fired at him. Jamie laughed out loud again, untangling his hands from Claire’s hair and running them down the length of her arms.

“Come on, lass.” He took both of her hands and pulled her away from Donas, into a stall, leaving an empty one between them and Donas.

“What on Earth are you doing…?”

“Getting ye away from prying eyes.”

Jamie captured her lips with his immediately, his tongue resuming its prior task of exploring every inch of the inside of her mouth. Claire whimpered in surprise and then began moaning, threading her arms around his neck.

“This is…” Claire breathed. “We can’t do this here.”

“Why no’?” Jamie nibbled at her neck. “I told ye we’d be completely alone.”

The thought sent a jet of heat to her core, and she stifled another moan. “Because…the…” She lost her train of thought as Jamie’s hand found its way under her shirt.

“The horses dinna mind, Sassenach.” He sealed his lips on hers again, squeezing her breast under her bra.

They moved together, back, back, back…until Claire’s back slammed against the wall of the stall.

“Besides,” Jamie said, palming her over her capris, eliciting a muffled groan from her. “I havena been able to hear ye since last week. Ye’ve had to keep far too quiet fer my liking.”

He squeezed her breast harder and increased the speed of his hand over her pants, and she sighed in ecstasy, kissing him hungrily and letting her hands roam to his fly. She forcefully pushed his shorts and boxers down, savoring the strangled cry he let out when she fisted him in her hand. His clothing fell around his ankles, and he reciprocated, unzipping Claire’s capris and forcing them along with her underwear down. Claire clumsily toed off one sneaker so she could get one foot out of her pants, and then hooked the leg around Jamie’s naked hips. She dug her heel into him, pulling him in closer. For a moment, Claire ground against him, savoring the friction, keening desperately as she did. And then, in one swift motion, Jamie viciously grabbed her thigh and lined himself up to enter her with a powerful thrust. Claire cried out loudly, breathing heavily.

“Aye,” Jamie rasped, kissing her sloppily. “Let me hear ye, mo nighean donn.”

Claire hummed in appreciation, her voice hitching with each of Jamie’s piercing, almost painful thrusts. Her back slammed and rubbed against the wood behind her, and somewhere in her hazy consciousness she thought she’d definitely have a bruise after this, and then that thought had her moaning louder.

The thought of him marking her.

Her increase in volume had him doubling his pace, grunting and groaning in her ear, biting her earlobe, her neck. Her grip on his shoulders became more desperate, her heel dug in harder, her voice grew higher and louder.

“Claire…” Jamie hissed, gripping her thigh harder. “Oh, Claire…”

The sound of her name on his lips like that was almost enough to undo her. Then his free hand began mercilessly rubbing her clit, and she made a guttural noise she didn’t even know she was capable of making.

“Aye, lass…” Jamie looked deep into her eyes and redoubled his efforts. “Let go. Only I can hear ye.”

It was a wonder to Claire that he was capable of speech right now, because if she’d tried to speak, only more shrieking moans would come out. And oh, they did. She felt herself tightening, and she dug her nails into Jamie’s back, and then she was falling, hard. She knew she was screaming, knew, and didn't care. Her walls gripped him so tightly he almost slipped out even though it would defy gravity in this position. Jamie was not far after, spilling into her with her name on his lips like a prayer.

Afterward, they sat in the hay on the floor, still half naked leaning against the stall, limbs entwined. Jamie kissed that spot on her shoulder where she thought she already felt a bruise blooming.

“I can’t believe you’ve already made me sore before we even get on the horses.”

Jamie snorted, then kissed the top of her head. “Wasna my intention.” Claire hmphed, and Jamie laughed again. “You just let me know when ye’re ready to go.”

Claire hummed, her eyes closed, and then felt consciousness slip from her against her will. She woke less than a half hour later, and after chastising Jamie for letting her fall asleep, and both of them repairing the state of their undress through endless fits of giggles, they made their way back to the horses.

Donas looked thoroughly disgusted with them, though Claire might have just been projecting onto an entity she knew had distaste for her.

“See that white mare?” Jamie said, leading Claire over. “This is Millie. Toni’s horse.”

“Toni rides?”

“Oh, aye. That’s why she works here.” Jamie let Millie sniff his hand, then began petting her. He gestured for Claire to do the same, and the process was much less painful (and terrifying) than it was with Donas. “They take a wee bit out of yer paycheck to keep yer horse here, but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than having the land yerself, or using a public stable.”

“She’s beautiful,” Claire marveled, running her fingers up and down the long nose. “Very gentle.”

“Aye, she’s bonny. Toni said ye could ride her for today.”

Claire looked up at Jamie, her gaze warm with affection for Toni. “That’s really nice of her.”

“Please, ye ken that meddling wee besom’ll do anything to get us alone. Since last September. This wasna done out of sheer generosity.”

Claire chuckled, moving on to the softness of Millie’s mane. “You tease her too much.”

“Ach, she kens she’s a good friend.”

“Where does she fall on the friendship tier? Above or below Donas?” Then Claire yelped, or rather squeaked; Jamie had pinched her arse. She swatted at his arm, and Jamie remarked that if she’d done that so close to Donas, he’d really have bitten her head off.

Introductions out of the way and teasing (mostly) finished, they got saddled up and led the horses out of the stable.

“Now, I ken ye said ye rode before,” Jamie said. “So it’s yer choice. D’ye want to use the riding hall and keep it moderate, or d’ye want to roam around the grounds, get a wee bit exciting?”

Claire smirked at him around Millie’s head. “I’m always up for a wee bit of excitement.”

In one swift motion, Jamie launched himself onto his saddle, that wide, lopsided grin dancing on his beautiful face. “That’s what I hoped ye’d say.”

Claire mirrored him, getting herself settled in Millie’s saddle and giving her loving strokes on her neck. “Shall we?”

They rode anywhere between a trot and a gallop, all over the grounds that Claire had become familiar with on foot. It did look different without tables or Easter eggs or dunk tanks and projection screens. Jamie was a bit of a show off on his glorious, enormous mustang, and as much as Claire wanted to smack him, she also found it endlessly endearing, his desire to impress her.

They stopped somewhere to have their picnic lunch, letting the horses graze while they ate slowly, sipped whisky, and of course, kissed each other until they were both lightheaded. Claire very nearly threw a leg over to straddle him and ride him right there on the picnic blanket, but it would have been far too much effort to remove her shoes and capris again. So she took care of Jamie’s still-new-to-sex-and-always-ready excitement with her hand, and remarked with a sultry smile that she knew he’d take care of her later.

They rode some more, joking and laughing — Claire tossing her head back so far she nearly fell out of the saddle, holding hands between them (despite Donas’s apparent disapproval), and even guiding their horses close enough to kiss one another. And then of course Jamie yanked Donas away before he could bite off Millie’s ear. Obviously there was a very good reason they kept the stalls next to that brute empty.

They reached the stable again and bid their horses proper goodbyes, Claire remaining a safe distance from the Brute. Jamie held her hand all the way back to the car, and her legs felt wobbly, her stomach fluttery. It was impossible to tell if she was swaying from straddling the horse for so long or from the way Jamie had slammed into her against the wall, but either way, it was not altogether unpleasant.

They picked Faith up promptly at six, having given her a hard stop time in the pool at five so she’d know what to expect and be ready to be picked up, and hopefully not have a meltdown when it was time to get out. Gail’s report was that she was very well behaved, though she’d had more snacks than Claire would have liked. Faith did not at all protest when it was time to leave, especially because it was Jamie who stepped into the room first. Claire could not help the twinge of jealousy when Faith wrapped herself around his legs and listened to him far better than she would have to Claire if she was alone, but she knew this was normal, for any child, let alone a child on the spectrum.

After Faith and Claire showered together, Claire made mac and cheese with dinosaur chicken nuggets for all three of them while Jamie showered.

“See?” Claire remarked when they were all sat down at the table, loading a stegosaurus with several little Frozen character-shaped macaronis. “Being a bad cook is fun sometimes.”

They watched the movie of Faith’s choice (Frozen, to no one’s surprise), and then Faith did not protest when it was time to brush her teeth and get into bed. She did not protest because Jamie had promised to be the one to tuck her in that night. He was not granted the honor of teeth-brusher or Risperdal-dispenser, but tucking in and turning on the nightlight were sacred parts of nighttime routine nonetheless.

And Claire knew that Jamie took it very seriously.

She stood back, watching from the doorway as Jamie pulled the blankets up to her chin, multiple heavy blankets despite it being summer.

“Sleep well, a leannan,” Jamie said softly, stroking back her wild curls. “Ye were a very good girl today.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and Claire’s chest ached. “I’ll see ye in the morning.”

That had Faith grinning, her eyes wild with excitement.

“But morning willna come if ye dinna sleep,” he warned. “So I willna see ye unless ye sleep.”

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, wrinkling the lids with the effort. He and Claire both chuckled, and Jamie shook his head.

“Alright. Goodnight, lass.”

With that, he patted Angus’s head and stood up from the bed, allowing Claire to say her own goodnight, and then they departed to Claire’s room.

Jamie did take care of her, face buried between her legs hooked over his shoulders, took care of her so well that she had to put a pillow over her face to keep from rousing the five year old they’d just put to bed.

When he was finished taking care of her, he rose up and tossed the pillow away, laughing no doubt at how positively insane she must have looked after flattening her face into a pillow. He kissed her anyway, insanity and all, and he lined himself up to take her.

“You didn’t have enough today?” Claire teased, breathless.

Jamie’s eyes darkened, and he wet his lips. “Never.”

And he took her.

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valley-of-the-lost · 4 years

Text

The Emotional Abuse of Eden Starling

I have a massive soft spot for Barbie movies. They defined most of my early childhood, from the music to the dress transformations. It was an intense nostalgia trip to revisit them when I was older and through a more comprehensive lens compared to when I saw them last. While I was doing this, one in particular stuck out to me. Barbie in a Christmas Carol. It was the version of the classic tale A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens that I had grown up with, and while my memories of it were fond, it didn’t trigger intense nostalgic reactions in me like ones like 12 Dancing Princesses did. So, naturally, I rewatched it to refresh my memory. And it immediately shot up to my favorite Barbie movie, at least, of the ones I have seen, because it handles surprisingly more mature and complex themes than you’d expect for a piece of early 2000’s kid’s media. I’d like to dissect one of these themes today: childhood abuse, specifically how Eden Starling, the protagonist of the movie, was abused by her caretaker, Aunt Marie.

Aunt Marie was emotionally abusing Eden throughout her childhood by overworking, socially isolating, guilting, shifting the blame, and asserting control over Eden through verbal manipulation. All of the above can be seen in the interaction between Eden and Marie in the Ghost of Christmas Past flashback section of the movie. While the conversation is brief and I am well aware that technically due to how short it is, it could possibly not be representative of Eden’s entire childhood, the movie treats it as the standard for their dynamic when Eden was a child, so that is how I will be treating it as well when analyzing the quality of Eden’s upbringing. So, without further ado, let’s parse out what tactics Marie employs on Eden throughout the conversation.

The scene opens with the Ghost of Christmas Past and Eden from the present (whom I will call “Present Eden” throughout the rest of this post aside from this scene summary) arriving in a room via a golden portal. Eden as a child (whom I will call “Past Eden” to differentiate her from Present Eden, again, aside from this summary) is sitting at a long table, resting her head on her arm and staring out the window at the snow falling outside. She has food in front of her, implying she was eating or expected to eat at some point, but she doesn’t touch it until her Aunt Marie says her name and walks into the room. Past Eden then straightens in her seat, looking more alert, and quickly eats all her food as her Aunt Marie enters the room while staring into a handmirror. After she is done, Eden asks if she can go to the Beadnell’s house for Christmas, where she had been invited by her friend Catherine Beadnell. Aunt Marie refuses, and says that after dinner they rehearse. Eden tries to press the issue, but is shut down and told to rehearse until dinner is ready.

Already the movie itself is calling attention to a major disparity in this scene: there is no indication of celebration within Marie’s household, be it Christmas or otherwise. The room Past Eden is sitting in is literally bare floorboards and blue wallpaper, with the only lighting being the dim sunlight streaming through the window. The decor itself is the epitome of the bare minimum; it’s wooden and matches the floorboards, giving the room a homogeneous appearance. Taken altogether, the dim lighting, cool color scheme, and general emptiness of the space gives the room a cold, lifeless feeling.

To further reenforce this, when the Ghost of Christmas Past thinks she accidentally didn’t send them to Christmas due to the room’s clearly lacking Christmas cheer, Present Eden corrects her by saying “No… this is right…” establishing that this is indeed how she spent her Christmases as a child. If that was not enough indication that something is definitely wrong, the Ghost of Christmas Past is still in disbelief, pointing out the absence of typical Christmas fixtures like a tree or stockings, but then she comes to a realization and says to Present Eden “Oh… you poor thing”. This expression of sympathy shows that there’s not just something off about this scene, something’s terrible about it that would warrant this sympathy in the first place. The conclusion from just this section of the scene would be that Eden was not very happy as a child, and never had what would be thought of as a “proper” Christmas growing up for one reason or another. So what was the reason for this? Why, Aunt Marie of course. Not just because she’s Past Eden’s guardian and therefore these responsibilities would fall onto her, but for other reasons that are revealed in the following conversation when Past Eden asks to go to the Beadnell’s house:

"Eden: I'm all done Aunt Marie. Can I go over to the Beadnell's house?

Marie: Of course not. After dinner we rehearse.

Eden: I know... But I thought we could... maybe make an exception today. Because it's Christmas! They all said they'd really love to see me there. Catherine even said it'd make her Christmas!"

This immediately ticks off two red flags: social isolation and overworking. Marie is preventing Past Eden from spending Christmas with Catherine and Catherine’s family, and by extension, denying her positive social interaction. In the context of the date being Christmas, Marie is also denying Past Eden a better Christmas with this action, as when Past Eden sneaks out to the Beadnell’s house, it can be seen that they celebrate a more typical Christmas. They have family, food, decorations, a tree, and presents, even some for Past Eden. This shows that Marie shows a lack of regard for Past Eden’s mental wellbeing, as positive social connections and interaction is critical to a child developing into a healthily functioning adult. In addition to isolating Past Eden, there are implications that Marie is overworking Past Eden as well. It is obviously cruel to make a child work through a holiday when they obviously do not want to, but Past Eden’s wording (“...maybe make an exception today…”) insinuates that working through the day with no known breaks under any circumstances except to eat is the norm for her. Barbie and Kelly, the former of which is telling Eden’s story to the latter, also confirm this:

"Kelly: Wait... Aunt Marie is making Eden work on Christmas?

Barbie: Well, every day. But yes, on Christmas too.

Kelly: But that's not fair!

Barbie: It's not.

Kelly: And there's nothing Eden can do about it?

Barbie: affirmative noise"

Forcing a child to rehearse day in and day out with no time off except to eat against their will is not natural; it’s controlling. It’s a bad sign for their future development and mental health, as this constant pressure to rehearse and by extension be good at this thing they are rehearsing for will likely end with them pinning their sense of self and self-worth on this one thing they’re working towards. Thus, they will have a harder time coping with failure at this one thing, or have no other emotional rapports to fall back on if something happens. Marie is not setting Past Eden up for a healthy adulthood here in any way. She has no regard for Past Eden’s mental wellbeing, and is not above employing manipulation to force Past Eden to agree to her demands, as she proceed to do when Past Eden tries to press her request:

"Marie: Make (Catherine's) Christmas? Make her Christmas? What about your Christmas? More importantly, what about your future? You want to be a star, don't you?

Eden: I do, but-

Marie: More than anything else in the world?

Eden: Yes, but-

Marie: Then what Catherine and the Beadnells want doesn't matter!..."

Now, what happens here is that Marie guilts Past Eden for considering Catherine’s feelings and manipulates her answers to shift the blame for the circumstances onto Past Eden. This is all designed to browbeat Past Eden into submission so she will do what Marie wants. First, with the guilting, Marie shifts the conversation from spending time with Catherine to Past Eden’s future (“...What about your Christmas? More importantly, what about your future?...”). Her word choice of “what about” and “don’t you” suddenly imply that Past Eden is putting her future singing career in jeopardy by wanting to spend one day with Catherine. In essence, Marie is saying Past Eden is putting her entire future at risk just for the sake of catering to what the Beadnells want, completely ignoring that it’s what Past Eden wants as well, and thus making her feel guilty for putting something so important as her singing career on the line just for the Beadnells and their feelings.

Marie also shifts the burden of the situation onto Past Eden over the course of the conversation, by suddenly placing it on Past Eden’s shoulders. “More importantly, what about YOUR future?” and “YOU want to be a star, don’t YOU?” both imply that Past Eden herself is responsible for the perceived obstacle (her singing aspirations) blocking her from going to Catherine’s house, and thus absolve Marie herself from any of the blame she has for creating this situation for Past Eden in the first place as her guardian.

In order to guarantee that Past Eden will comply, Marie manipulates the conversation in her favor. First, she poses a yes or no question to Past Eden (“You want to be a star, don’t you?”) giving Past Eden reflexively predictable answers, so she can more easily get the response she wants and shut Past Eden’s objections down when Past Eden clearly has more to say by interrupting her (“I do, but-”...”Yes, but-”). She employs the same tactic again with “More than anything else in the world?”, except when she gets the affirmation she wants, she uses the absolute of “anything else in the world” to dismiss what Catherine and the Beadnells want, and by extension, what Past Eden wants. The message from this she’s sending Past Eden is that by her own desire to be a star more than anything else in the world, it’s her own fault for not being able to spend time with Catherine or the Beadnells because they fall under “anything else in the world”. In short, the problem is Past Eden’s fault. Which it isn’t, but Marie wants Past Eden to think that it is, so she bends to Marie’s will more easily. And eventually, she wants Past Eden to bend to her way of thinking too:

"Marie: Then what Catherine and the Beadnells want doesn't matter! What do I always tell you?

Eden: In a selfish world, the selfish succeed.

Marie: That's right. And if you want to succeed, you must use every second of your time selfishly.

Eden: Yes, Aunt Marie.

Marie: Good choice. I'm proud of you. Now go work your scales until dinner's ready."

Marie defines how Past Eden should feel, and then tops it off with a dose of conditional affection. She makes Past Eden repeat a mantra she has told her in the past (hence the “always”): “In a selfish world, the selfish succeed”. Her goal is to make Past Eden internalize this value and eventually have it dictate her life, so she shuts down any other avenue for Past Eden to deviate from this. No Catherine, no Christmas, no disagreeing with her on any level.

Ironically, it should be said that Marie is telling Past Eden to be selfish and to “use every second of her time selfishly”, yet there’s no room for Past Eden herself to define “selfish” for herself. How can Past Eden truly live selfishly if she’s not allowed to define what selfish is for herself? She can’t, it’s a contradiction, and it exposes that Marie doesn’t want Past Eden to live selfishly with regard to herself. No, Marie wants Past Eden to live selfishly with regards to her, and wants Past Eden to only think she’s living selfishly for herself. A line earlier in the movie supports this and puts Marie pushing Past Eden to practice in a new light: “(In a selfish world, the selfish succeed) was my excuse for not having the talent to become a star myself!" This makes it seem like Marie was living vicariously through Past Eden due to her failed aspirations, like those dance moms who live through their daughters.

Of course, Past Eden finally relents to Marie as she’s no longer being allowed a voice in this conversation and Marie rewards her with “Good choice. I’m proud of you”. The “good choice” sounds vaguely threatening, as if implying there was a BAD choice in the first place, but the small bit of praise in “I’m proud of you” is an example of conditional affection, especially in the context of Marie giving it. Past Eden bowed to her wishes, thus she “earned” Marie’s affection. This is a bad message to send to Past Eden, as it says to her that she’s only worth the affection when she agrees with Marie. Essentially, she’s not worth loving as her own person, only as what Marie wants her to be.

After this, Past Eden sneaks out when her Aunt is asleep and sleds to Catherine's house. She briefly gets to celebrate Christmas with her friend and the rest of the Beadnells, but then a knock comes at the door. Aunt Marie had woken up and is there to yell at Past Eden and drag her back home.

When the knock comes, Present Eden’s reaction is worth noting, especially to determine how the following events affected her long after they initially occurred:

"Present Eden, to the Ghost of Christmas Past: Take me home. Now.

Ghost of Christmas Past: Why? We're having so much fun!

knocking gets louder and more insistent

Present Eden: NOW!

Door opens to reveal Marie standing in the doorway

Aunt Marie: Where. Is. EDEN?!"

Present Eden’s immediate distress with the smile vanishing off her face to be replaced with a scared expression at the sound of the knock and her increasingly insistent demands for the Ghost of Christmas Past to take her home before the door opens signifies that this particular part of the memory was traumatizing for her. It also implies that Eden, both Past and Present, is afraid of her Aunt Marie. This isn’t the first time Present or Past Eden have shown fear in Marie’s presence. Earlier, in the beginning of the flashback, when Aunt Marie addresses Past Eden, Present Eden recoils with a fearful expression on her face at the sound of Marie’s voice. Past Eden also has trouble keeping sustainable eye contact with Marie, especially when Marie is looking directly at her, which could be a sign of intimidation or anxiety.

The traumatizing part of this event wasn’t just Marie angrily demanding to know where Past Eden was though, as is revealed when Present Eden relays the rest of what happened in her bedroom with her knees pulled up to her chest:

"Present Eden: She ruined the whole holiday. Just stood there, screaming, for what seemed like forever. At me, at Catherine, at the Beadnells, oh, it was horrible. That was my last Christmas there. Aunt Marie never left me alone for a second after that.

Ghost of Christmas Past, placing a hand on Present Eden’s: I'm so sorry, Eden.

Present Eden, shrugging off the Ghost of Christmas Past’s hand and getting up from the bed to fluff her hair: Don't be. Aunt Marie was right! I wasted time on those silly Christmas pageants for the Beadnells. After that, I concentrated on myself. And you know what happened? I made my Covent Garden debut at thirteen. Thirteen."

According to Present Eden, Marie screamed at not just Past Eden, but everyone present. Not only is it already traumatizing for Past Eden to be yelled at by an adult figure she’s already shown signs of being scared of already, but it would also be mortally humiliating because she’d likely think the Beadnells are being yelled at because of her. As if Marie hadn’t already heaped enough undeserved blame onto Past Eden, intentionally or not.

This event also marked a turn for the worse in Past Eden’s life. If Marie wasn’t controlling enough before by depriving Past Eden of social contact in favor of having her rehearse, she apparently became worse by “not leaving (Eden) alone for a second after that”. That, coupled with that being Eden’s last Christmas at the Beadnell’s, likely means that Eden was completely socially isolated for the rest of her upbringing, except perhaps in special Marie-approved and supervised interactions.

As if this wasn’t all bad enough, Present Eden also reveals two key pieces of information through mentioning her Covent Garden debut at thirteen years old. It confirms that Past Eden in the flashback was at the very least younger than thirteen, as Present Eden speaks about the debut as if it happened after Marie forced her away from the Beadnells, and that Eden was a child star. The abuse has been happening at the very least since Eden was younger than thirteen and she was a child star, which she does not have the proper support system to manage the stress that would come with that. And even Present Eden herself doesn’t seem too happy about it either for a split second.

While the peek into Eden’s childhood is brief, dissecting it reveals that it is far more insidious than it appeared to be upon first glance. Marie’s methods of molding Eden into what she wants is terrifying as she’s willing to sacrifice Eden’s happiness and agency as a person in order to further that end. And the worst part is that she succeeds. The Eden at the beginning of the movie is the result of years of being subjected to Marie’s abuse, someone who was never allowed to grow into her own person and probably doesn’t even know how to express herself properly beyond the toxic methods that Marie taught her. But the extent of Marie’s damage to Eden’s life will have to wait until another post, since that’s another deep hole I want to dive into but for the sake of staying on topic we’re leaving that for later. Thanks for reading!

Loose ends:

- The hell was Eden eating in the flashback? It looked like burned potatoes and toast. I remember being baffled by this even as a kid, because I was confused that I was supposed to see that as food. The implication seems to be that Eden didn't have good food and nutrition growing up, which @/barbie-movie-reviews pointed out in their review of this movie could be why she was so passionate about her crumpets. I plan to expand on that later for another post, but Marie apparently can’t be bothered to get decent food for Eden.

- Aunt Marie's handmirror and her looking at herself in it is likely a visual shorthand for her being a selfish person like how she wants Eden to be, especially since she is supposed to be the Jacob Marley of the story and the mirrors are her “chains”. Though now I get more of the impression of "narcissistic tendencies", which are apparently common in emotionally abusive parents.

- Aunt Marie tells Eden that after dinner they rehearse, implying Eden just ate dinner, and then later orders her to practice her scales until dinner is ready? It's either an inconsistency or awkward wording.

#meta of the lost #barbie #barbie in a christmas carol #barbie a christmas carol #eden starling #eden starling meta #aunt marie #catherine beadnell #cw: emotional abuse

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sokkas-honour · 4 years

Note

#17 for the spotify wrapped with zuko! <3

prom queen - zuko x reader

pairing: zuko x fem!reader

wc: 1k (it’s a short one, i didn’t feel like exploring this song too much as i associate it with a certain sort of my life. i also didn’t put too much effort into tbh, again for the same reason)

warning: if you’re sensitive to body image talk, possible diet talk, possible starvation mention, please don’t go any further. i tried to keep it as light as possible but i did project onto it a bit.

notes: i cherry picked lyrics that work best for this, and the least triggering ones. its kinda of a part two to detention as requested by @aangsupremacy (hopefully this works for you), just not a direct one.

wish i was like you, blue-eyed blondie, perfect body,

she was everything you could never be. with beautiful long black hair and an elegance that you only wish you could have. but most of all, she had the firelord’s attention, she had his heart. she had his attention ever since they were children and it was foolish of you to ever imagine things going differently.

it was foolish of you to think he’d even fall for you, the waterbender who’d been tasked to be his bodyguard ever since you two were children. it was foolish of you to think that, even though you two had been through so much together, you still would never even cross his mind as anything more than a simple friend.

all the nights you two spent on that boat, giving him a space to talk when he needed it. you had always been there for him, you were with him every step of the way from the agni kai to ba sing se, to joining the avatar and defeating ozai. you two had grown close during that time and you genuinely thought that something was happening between the two of you, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. you had forgotten that the affection that zuko felt towards mai transcended any relationship that you had built up with him. spirits did you wish you were her.

maybe I should try harder, you should lower your beauty standards,

you remembered the comments you used to get while on the boat, your body constantly being picked apart by middle aged men who didn’t have any better to do then to bodyshame a teenager. being away from the crew, a weight had been lifters off your shoulders when you found a group of friends that never said anything about your appearance nor found anything wrong with it.

you should’ve realised that when you agreed to join zuko as his advisor that the picking apart would get worse. his cabinet was still very closed minded and judgemental, none of them liked the idea of a waterbender from a watertribe to be the one advising the leader of the firenation, none of them seemed to remember that your whole childhood was spent in between these walls.

most of the time, words were never said directly to you but usually were whispers strategically placed to make sure you heard what they all thought about you. it hurt a lot but you were able to push down all of your emotions until one day, when someone who used to be a part of zuko’s crew, came to help him around the place. the crew had caught on that despite how much he aggravated you, you had a thing for zuko, so he of course made fun of you for it in front of the firelord’s officers who knew of his current relationship status. and that’s when things started to go down hill.

“i’m going to find the firelord and see what he thinks about it.” it all started when you were having a meeting with some of his esteemed generals and admirals, he was absent so you took his place which meant that some people thought it was fun to try and take advantage of your lack of authority. the only way to settle the current argument was to grab the firelord himself and drag zuko into the mess that only he could clean.

“wouldn’t want to do that, his girlfriend might think you’d want to steal him.” a misplaced teasing rang from general tao, one who seemed to always be against you.

“please, mai would take one look at her and not even think that she’d pose a threat. i mean have you seen her body?” another voice inserted himself into the conversation and you started to feel like you’d wish that you could just evaporate into thin air.

“not to mention that marrying someone from the watertribe would be absolutely dishonourable.” general sho added, a smirk on his face as he knew that all of their comments were affecting you. sho was definitely someone who liked to pretend that he didn’t miss ozai, just like half of the people in the room that laughed at the jokes.

“meeting adjourned.” you exclaimed, not wanting to even deal with them any longer and just go to your room and cry about what had happened. you were the first to stand up and go to the leave the room but right as you were about to leave, you heard one more comment.

“go cry about it, maybe you can waterbend it or, even better, loose a little.” it was the last straw and you felt your eyes prick with tears but you couldn’t show total weakness so you held your composure and scurried to your room, making sure to avoid absolutely anyone.

im no quick-curl barbie, i was never cut out for prom queen,

when you closed the door to your chamber, you threw yourself on your bed and just cried, letting all the words that everyone had ever said get to you. you knew that you weren’t ever going to make a good ruler, which is probably for the best that mai is a good contender for the position seeing as she and zuko are madly in love.

but spirits did you wish you were. you weren’t the regal type, you weren’t elegant, you weren’t raised as someone important, you were raised as a bodyguard who’s entire worth was based on wether or not you could protect the future firelord. not matter how much you tried to get over him, you couldn’t. your entire self worth had been based around him since a young age so of course it continued into your early adult years. your whole life had been intertwined with zuko and your destinies, at least that’s what you thought, were always going to be shared in a way.

maybe that’s why you tried your hardest to always be nice to him, be there for him, be a friend for him even when he didn’t want one. sometimes you wondered if you actually did love him or if it was just that if he did love you, you would actually feel like you had a place. you’d always conclude that it was the first, just seeing him happy and smile made your heart race as a fast as a rollercoaster. no one else had ever done that to you.

you remembered the one time you had ever lashed out at zuko. you were grieving and he was being selfish. you had always given him the space to talk about his feelings so you expected the same, only, it took you ignoring him for a couple of days for him to finally understand that friendship was a two way street, even when he was banished.

after that, zuko always listened to you when you needed it and spirits did you wish he was there now. you don’t exactly know what you’d tell him but in right now, you craved him just rubbing your back soothingly and letting you air out what was on your mind. those moments weren’t too common but they were precious.

you were ready to just recompose yourself in your room alone but you jumped a bit when you heard someone knock at the door.

“shit.” you mumbled, quickly trying to find somewhere to look at your reflection to wipe the tears and boy was that going to be a problem. your eyes were red, cheeks were puffy and heavily tear stained, and your hair was disheveled from gripping it as you sobbed.

there was nothing you could do but pray that whoever was behind that door was just a guard coming by to tell you something, they never commented on your current appearance as they were used to seeing the firelord in unpleasant circumstances.

you took a deep breath in and went to open the door. you felt your heart stop when you saw your best friend with a huge smile on his face.

“hey y/n, i-" zuko started off his greeting with the cheeriest voice you’d ever heard from him but the tone quickly switched once he registered that you had been crying. “are you okay?”

“yeah zuko, i’m fine.” you lied, fully aware that he could see that you weren’t and the lie was useless, but you couldn’t talk about what was going on with zuko.

“y/n i know you’re lying, you’re my best friend. and you look like you’ve just been crying.” zuko placed his hand on your cheek and rubbed his thumb gently from side to side. you sighed and leaned into it, savouring the affectionate moment.

“it’s fine, it’s nothing important.” you mumbled after a couple of seconds were spent in silence, not knowing if this was the time to tell him about the treatment that you’d received from his generals and the love that you had for him.

“you know you can tell me anything, right y/n? i learned that a while ago thanks to you. i come to you for help and advice, and vice versa.” he insisted, removing his hand, much to your dismay. his eyes filled with concern as he wasn’t going to just dismiss your feelings like the last time he’d found you crying.

“i don’t want to talk about it right now, maybe at another time.” you compromised, figuring that in a day or so you could finally come forward about it without breaking down.

“deal.” he smiled, glad that you had accepted his help.

“but you had news to tell me, so don’t let the way i look keep you from telling me.” you returned his smile, changing your tone to one of intrigue at the wonder of what got your friend so excited.

“mai said yes to the trip!” he announced giddily.

“the trip to?” you asked confused, if he had discussed this trip with you, you had completely forgotten.

“the trip where i plan to propose to her! i’m pretty sure i told you about this the other week.” he clarified, slightly confused as to why you didn’t remember as in his memory, he had talked it out with you a couple of weeks prior.

“oh yeah, that trip.” you felt your heart drop, you completely forgot about that, it was the last hope of zuko ever loving you as more than a friend, it was already small to begin with but now it was nonexistent. she would say yes and you’d have to live with the knowledge that you never said anything to him, you’d have to live with and help the new firelady, you’d have to see them rule the nation as you’d just think about your unrequited love.

“we leave the day after tomorrow, do you think she’ll say yes?” the firelord was nervous about a girl, your heart broke a bit knowing that you never had that affect on him but it was to her fault for keeping your feelings to yourself.

“of course she will zuko. the two of you are perfect for each other. you’re handsome, a great friend, you’re always there for your friends, you always want what’s best for everyone, and youre a great ruler. and mai, mai’s just drop dead gorgeous.” you rambled, not realizing that you might have raised his suspicions at your listing of his qualities but all it did was make him more confident, he must’ve only seen your small confession as a planotic one.

“thank you y/n. and when i get back, i’ll find someone for you so we can have double dates!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“yeah zuko, that’d be great.” if only he knew that the only person for you was him. you only gave him a half smile before he turned around to do whatever, leaving you alone in your room with something more to cry about.

if im pretty, will you like me? they say "beauty makes boys happy"

a little while after he left, you went out of your room to go clear your mind next to one of the turtle duck ponds. as you sat down to watch the adorable animals, you saw mai pass down the hallway that opened to the courtyard. she spotted you and waved, not bothering to stop as she probably had somewhere to be. you waved back but it made you realise something.

as you looked at your reflection, you thought of how beautiful mai was and how average you were. you’d never compare to her beauty, meaning zuko would never look at you and think ‘woah’. maybe no one would ever see you as the most gorgeous person in the four nations, all you’d be was someone who let the love of their life live with his life without knowing about your feelings.

maybe it was time to move out of the firepalace, the guards didn’t seem to like you and the comments started to get too much to hide the way it hurt you. you wouldn’t have to watch zuko and mai act all lovey dovey. youd finally move on from your life where your whole worth was based around the banished prince turned firelord. maybe you’d find love with someone who saw you as their whole world just like zuko did with mai.

maybe your life would be better.

atla taglist: @draqondance @biqherosix @missmorosis @firelady-jay

zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik

#atla x reader #zuko x reader #prince zuko #atla zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko x y/n #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender x reader #gaang x reader #firelord zuko #zuko x you #fire lord zuko #firelord zuko x reader

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fallout4reactsblog · 4 years

Note

companions react to news of the institute christmas party courser revolution and the fact that the institute is now apparently populated entirely by festive rogue coursers in elf costumes and also what ramifications this has on the politics of the commonwealth as a whole. father's drowned corpse, still in his silly santa hat, is now impaled on the antlers of the fake reindeer on the sleigh prop by the institute's metaphorical front door as a warning and a symbol of their casting off chains.

Cait: “You have to at least give them some points for creativity.”

Cait pulls a face, but says, “I guess.”

“Come on, Cait. You could at least admit it’s a little funny. I’d have paid good money to be a fly on the wall that day.”

“It’s fucked up, is what it is. How are you so calm?”

“How are you so stressed?” They lean back in their chair, folding their arms contentedly. “They basically did our job for us. No more Institute.”

She sighs. “You’re nuts.”

“Maybe. I guess all we can do is wait and see what happens, huh? Maybe they’ll retreat to their underground hidey-hole and leave the Commonwealth alone.”

“Not countin’ on it.”

“You can be as pessimistic as you like. The way I see it, this is a good thing both ways. Either the Institute collapses without strict management- which would be good- the coursers decide they don’t believe in what the Institute was doing before and stop- also good- or we go in there and only have to kill half of what was there. A win-win-win situation.”

She shakes her head. “Whatever you say. I’m not buyin’ it.”

Curie: “The absurdity of the situation is certainly not lost on me, Madam/Monsieur, but surely there are still, ah, consequences for this?”

“Oh, sure, yeah, definitely. I mean, they’ve basically got my son on a pike on the CIT lawn. But, you know, don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things, as the old saying goes.”

“I... do not think this is a ‘petty thing’ anymore.”

They wave a hand dismissively. “We’ll wait for the dust to settle, then go check it out. Until then, I’m not jumping to any conclusions.”

“I am merely saying that, given the evidence, this seems quite disastrous, especially in terms of political instability.”

“Ah, who cares about politics? Unless they or someone else starts a war, it’ll be fine. Let ‘em live a little. Everybody’s gotta have a rebellious teenager phase at some point.”

Curie wasn’t sure this counted as being a rebellious teen, but if that was what brought sole comfort, she would let them have it.

Danse: Listening Post Bravo is quiet. That’s how he likes it, and how it’s going to stay.

Courser uprising. Of course, it was a courser uprising. What else could it have been? Those things are killing machines; death is everything they were designed for, and now they’ve taken the reigns and can do as they see fit across the Commonwealth with no masters to keep them in check.

He pulls himself a little tighter into his corner. God, what a mess. This is over. They needed to go back to DC and forget they had ever heard of the Institute. Tactical retreat. If Arthur wasn’t so far on his warpath, he might have even suggested it, but he was six feet deep in his “now’s the time to strike” speech with no sign of stopping to think about the hole he was digging.

Well, Arthur could do what he wanted. Danse has had enough of this, enough of the goddamn Commonwealth, enough of the synths, enough of it all. This was his home, now, and he was going to sit here and plant potatoes and forget anything that happened outside. Especially the fact that coursers even existed and could, presumably, come knocking on his door at any moment.

He was going to make an effort to forget that first.

Deacon: He lets out a long, low, whistle, then turns to Dez. “We should’ve thought of that one first, Boss. It’s genius.”

“It’s madness.” Desdemona pinches the bridge of her nose. “But I suppose it works in our favor, at least for now. There should be chaos in the Institute right about now.”

“Other synths probably saw the carnage.” Glory pipes up. “They might be getting some similar ideas. This could be our moment.”

“Who would’ve predicted this, though?” Deacon grins. “It’s so out there that I can’t even be surprised that it happened. I mean, tell me “Holiday Office Party Leads to Destruction of Commonwealth Boogeyman” doesn’t sound like a headline you’d see in the Publick these days. It’s the perfect brand of Commonwealth crazy.”

“The Brotherhood is going to want to get on this,” Carrington says, shooting a glare Deacon’s direction. “We need to act before they can get there.”

“I’ve reached out to our man on the inside,” Deacon replies, glaring back. “But until we hear back, we might as well enjoy the show.”

Dez shakes her head. “I suppose so.”

Gage: “Honestly? Can’t blame ‘em. That holiday party sounds like an actual nightmare. I’d kill someone if they stuck elf ears on me, too.”

“Damn. There go my plans for next Christmas.”

Sole’s tone is dry enough he can’t tell if they’re joking. “I’m serious, Overboss. You even look at me with a costume-”

“I value my life, thanks.”

“Just providin’ fair warning. I don’t think any of the others would take kindly to it, either.”

They shake their head. “Mason wouldn’t mind. He practically dresses up in a costume every day.”

“Are you shitting me? He’d be the one that hated it the most.”

“Absolutely not. Mags would hate it the most.”

He thinks about it a moment, then replies, “Fair point, but what about Nisha?”

Sole sucks in a tense breath. “Oh, that’d be a mess. A bloody, ugly mess. Moral of the story: no holiday parties.”

“Good advice.”

Hancock: “I mean, good for them?” He stares at the ceiling, still a little baffled. “I guess?”

“But what does this mean, John?” Fahrenheit lights up a cigarette across from him.

“Well, we’ll be fine. I have that on good authority. Everybody else...” He makes a face.

“Exactly. No one knows.”

“No one even knew this was an option.” Smoke hisses between his teeth. “I mean, it’s fitting that they’d go up in smoke because of their own arrogance, but still.”

“People are losing it.”

He snorts. “Think of the Brotherhood. They must be havin’ a real heyday over there. But us? We’ll be fine. That’s what matters, right?”

“That’s what matters.”

MacCready: “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

Sole shrugs. “Then don’t say anything. I’m still not sure how I feel about it myself.”

“This is a good thing, right?” He looks to them for some explanation. “Right?”

“It’s too early to say, yet.”

“’Too early to say’? It’s a courser uprising for crying out loud. Forget what I said. This is bad.”

“Could turn out to be good, though.”

“Okay, it could, but...” he shakes his head. “What the heck. You’re right. We’ll see.”

Still, it’s a messed-up way to go. The only thing worse than being killed by a courser, he imagines, is being killed by a courser dressed up as a holiday elf.

Nick: He blinks slowly, purses his lips, then carefully folds his newspaper and puts it to the side.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I know. Crazy, huh?” Sole pops the cap off a Nuka-Cola and takes a seat on his desk. “All it took was a Christmas party.”

“I gotta say, this wasn’t among the ways I thought the Institute would go. Up in a firey ball, sure, but at the hands of killing machines dressed as Santa’s elves?”

“That’s what makes it so great! No one saw this coming, the Institute least of all, I assume. Can you imagine the mess that must be happening at Boston Airport right now? The Brotherhood is shitting their pants as we speak.”

He just shakes his head. “We can close that case, I guess. I’m not sure if I should be happy for them or horrified at the circumstances. Still, we should be careful; it’ll be hard to know what a change in leadership means for us.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’ll give ‘em credit for creativity, though.”

Piper: This is the best thing to happen all year.

For once, papers are flying off the shelves. She’s selling copies right off the press, selling them before they’re even printed. She’s on backorder for the story of the festive courser rebellion, which she’d heard all the details about from a Diamond City guard wearing suspiciously Deacon-like sunglasses. But forget him.

People have traveled to get here and get their hands on the Publick. There’s someone from Bunker Hill sitting next to someone from Cambridge next to someone who said they came from the Glowing Sea, of all places. The caps she’s making is more than she could have ever imagined, and she’s glad she faced sleep deprivation to make this one a Publick Occurrences exclusive. It’s been well worth it so far. Nat doesn’t even have to stand on the street to hawk the paper, people are coming right up to her door and knocking, no joke.

She knew the war would be profitable, but it’s made even better by the way it all went down. A holiday party gone wrong is the perfect headline, and if she could find a courser, she’d kiss them for their genius. Because this is the best thing to happen to her since she not-so-subtly implied McDonough was a synth.

Bless the coursers of the Institute for their impeccable sense of style.

Preston: “I have to say, I didn’t expect to be crossing ‘take care of the Institute’ off of my to-do list so quickly.”

Sole cocks their head to the side. “I mean, it’s not gone yet. Just... under new management.”

“New management, new threat in my opinion. You can’t really believe everything is going to stay the same after this. The Institute is going to change in at least a couple of ways.”

“Fair.” They lean up against the workbench. “Kinda crazy how it all went down, though.”

He chuckles. “I’d call that an understatement, General. No one could’ve seen this one coming. Trigger-happy Brotherhood goes on the warpath? I thought we might see that one, but blowing up from the inside?” He shakes his head. “That’s a new one.”

“They kinda had it coming, though. Who thought making killing machines play Barbie was a good idea?”

“Someone who came to regret it, no doubt.”

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 6*

Fair warning, this chapter starts fluffy/sexy and takes a hard left turn, idk a “trigger” word for that. 😐 Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

Your parents shower wasn’t that big, after all it was the Barrio. It was almost like cramming two people in a bathroom stall.

“Maybe this wasn’t a great idea,” You winced as Rafael’s elbow nearly missed your eye.

“Well, maybe we can’t go for round two, but I can still pamper you hermosa,” He lathered shampoo in his hands and began massaging your scalp. It was like he had magic fingers, the way they moved all around your head, hitting pleasure spots you were unaware you even had.

“Mmmmm,” You purred. The head massage with the warm water, all of your stress just melted away. You weren’t thinking of the kids, or the restaurant, or even the Diablos. It was just you and Rafael, here in this moment.

“Now rinse,” Rafael instructed, and you obliged. As the water cascaded over your face, he began massaging your shoulders with soft kisses mixed in.

“You’re killin me smalls,” You groaned with a laugh.

There was zero way you were having sex in this shower without someone breaking something. Still, it was too enticing. You turned to face him, lathering shampoo in your own hands and rubbing it into his hair gently, pulling him in to kiss you as you did so. Pretty soon you could feel his erection against your naked thigh.

“How’s your upper body strength?” You asked devilishly.

“It’s...adequate,” Rafael saw the wheels turning in your head.

“Well then I better work fast,” You grabbed him into a hard kiss and jumped into his arms, pushing him inside you.

“Mmmph!” He knew what was coming, but it still took him aback as he tried to distribute your weight in his arms without slipping and killing you both. However once he got a rhythm going, the feeling was intoxicating. He bounced you up and down while you had your legs tightly wrapped around him like a tree.

“Are you almost there baby? I really oversold myself here,” He grunted, making you giggle.

“Aw honey, is the arthritis kicking in?” You teased him, pulling on his hair as you bounced.

“Ha ha,” He couldn’t even come with a witty comeback, he was at capacity all around.

“Alright alright, let mama help,” You balanced on him with one hand, as your other reached down and went inside you, between his ball sack and your clit. You started rubbing it around as hard as you could, encouraging completion from the both of you. You must have done a hell of a job, because one moment you heard you both moaning in pleasure, and the next you were waking up on the floor of the shower, Rafael still inside you.

“Fucking Christ! What happened?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of this whole thing.

“Shit, fuck are you ok Y/N?” Rafael pulled out of you and frantically searched your body for injuries.

“Yeah...I think I bumped my head,”

“Yeah I um...we both...and I dropped you,” He turned bright red, making you laugh harder.

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, helping you to your feet.

“Aww, baby I know, I know,” You giggled as you rinsed the suds that were all over him.

“Are you sure you’re ok? That was a pretty hard thump on the head,” He searched your eyes for dilation, making sure you didn’t have a concussion.

“Trust me, my hard head can handle a lot,” You assured him.

“Okay, good. Now no more shenanigans, I can’t end up in the hospital over sexcapades,” He chuckled as he finished cleaning himself.

“Oh yeah, what would the people say?!” You feigned shock.

“They’d say that’s still pretty tame to some of the other government officials' dirty deeds,” He chuckled as you rinsed off and went to grab some towels off the rack.

“Oooh scandalous,” You giggled, turning off the water and handing him one of the towels. You both dried yourselves off, then stopped to look at your reflections in the mirror.

“Well, this is one image I never expected to see in this mirror,” You smirked, reaching and ruffling Rafael’s hair. As you turned to face him you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah this is a whole 180 from kicking me out of your place,” He smirked.

“I didn’t kick you out! You were already outside!”

“Semantics,” He rolled his eyes as he walked over to his clothes and began to put them on.

“So you really, never thought--?” You perched yourself at the foot of the bed, still wrapped in your towel.

“In the middle of you screaming at me? No, I can’t say that it did,” He chuckled.

“I’m really sorry about that,”

“Don’t be,” He kissed your forehead. “It’s far behind us,” You smiled and pecked him on the lips.

“Speaking of,” He glanced at his phone. “I am FAR BEHIND schedule, I better go. I still have to go home and get into abogado mode,” He chuckled as he grabbed his leather jacket and walked out of the room into the hall. You trailed behind in your towel, down the stairs and to the back door where he paused and held you for a moment.

“I hate to say it, but next time you see me…”

“You’ll be abogado Rafael Barba, not Rafa,” you finished with a sad smile; you rolled the R as he did the night before.

“Yeah…” He played with your hands in his, looking sadly at the floor.

“Well it’s good we got that out of our systems then,” You half smiled, making his head jerk up.

“....Seriously?” He asked with so much hurt in his voice.

“I was feeling you out, guapo,” You pushed his shoulder playfully as he let out a sigh of relief.

“But seriously, that’s gonna have to last us for a while,” You stroked his cheek. “I can’t have the kids thinking…”

“I know,” he put a hand over yours on his face. “I can’t have people talking either,”

“But as SOON as my parents are home--” You batted your eyes.

“Oh it’s on, mi amor,” He pulled you in for another kiss, you smiled into his lips.

“Alright, well have Mr. Barba call me later, yeah?” You chuckled as he mounted his bike.

“He will definitely be in touch, Miss Y/N,” He winked before driving out of the alley way and down the street.

You leaned against the doorway, drinking in the whole night/morning. You were so lost in happiness, you didn’t notice the shadow figure emerging from down the alley.

“Hola, Y/N,” Diego’s voice startled you so bad you almost dropped your towel.

“D-Diego,” You whispered, unsure what to do.

“I knew it, the abogado wanted him some nice chicano ass, those boring gringa Barbies ain’t shit,” He chuckled.

“That’s NOT--”

“No you know what it’s not? It’s not okay for you to disrespect me like this,” He shook his head.

“Ay, mami. I tried to be nice, I really did. I gave you a nice warning and everything,” He put hand to your cheek but you jerked it away.

“You leave us alone, Diego,” You summoned all the courage you had to stand up against him.

“Ohhhh, kitty’s got claws now!” He laughed harder. “That’s cute,”

“Rafael already put one of you away, he could finish the job,” You got way too cocky for your own good. Diego got in your face, his hands almost around your throat.

“Or I could finish him, puta!” He growled.

“Rafa thinks he’s chico grande because he climbed up out of here, and yet look at this, he’s still slumming it,” He nodded at you with an evil smirk. “I think he needs to be reminded who still runs this place,”

And that was it. You didn’t remember anything else until you heard Mari screaming at you.

“Y/N!!!! Oh my God… Y/N!!! Are you ok? Please wake up, please wake up…” She was shaking you. It took you a moment to return to consciousness, but as your brain started to wake up, so did the pain.

“Ow…” You muttered. Mari let out a breath of relief as she threw her hands around your neck and pulled you up.

“What the fuck happened?!”

“Diego…” You muttered, still not quite able to form full sentences.

“Diego? Why would Diego beat the shit out of you?”

“Rafa…” You mumbled back, walking over to the mirror of your backroom. Your hair was disheveled, gravel all tangled in it. Your face was black and blue, your lip was bleeding. You removed your towel to asses the damage to your body. Black and blue bruises were forming on your rib cage. It was obvious once Diego had punched you out he literally kicked the shit out of you.

“Jesus Christ...we should get you to a hospital,” Mari came up behind you with tears in her eyes as she saw just how badly you were hurt.

“No!” You spun around to face her. “That is the LAST thing we need to do,” You hobbled up your stairs.

“Seriously, Y/N? Look at you, you can barely walk!”

“I’m fine,” You walked back into your parent’s bedroom, Mari trailed right behind you. You winced in pain as you sat on the bed. You looked over to the spot where you and Rafael had just been together hours before; how did it go from that to this?

“Wow, it looks like you had sex in here....” Mari trailed off, looking at you. “OH MY GOD,”

“Can you not yell, please?” You held your ear in pain.

“That’s why Diego came after you! Rafael was here, wasn’t he?” Mari was starting to get angry.

“Maybe…”

“Oh that son of a bitch,” Mari started pacing angrily. “I can’t believe he let him do that shit to you!”

“He didn’t,” You winced more as you tried getting dressed. “He left, and then Diego jumped me,”

“Where’s your phone? That pendejo is getting a piece of my mind--” Mari started going for your phone on the dresser.

“NO,” You grabbed it before she could. “If you call Rafa, he’ll just come right back down here and he can’t deal with all of...this,” You gestured to your bruised body. “He has a job, he doesn’t have time to worry about me,”

“He did this to you!”

“I did this to myself, Mari,” You sighed. “He came over last night and I should’ve told him to leave-- but I didn’t,” Tears stung your eyes as you spoke.

“And now the universe is severely punishing me for it,” You threw your hands up. “I should’ve known not to fly close to the sun-- I got burned,”

“And then some,” Mari looked at you sadly. “Well, obviously you can’t see him again,”

“Obviously,” You sighed, doing your best to keep a brave face. “Can you...Would you go downstairs and open for me? I need a minute,”

“Absolutely babe, you take as long as you need,” Mari nodded and gave you a hug as she left and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You collapsed onto the bed in sobs; pathetic, loud, carnal sobs.

How could it end like this?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafa #rafael #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #my fairy abogado #angst #warning

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