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#was working off the idea of 'the 11th hour' but that felt too on the nose to put as caption too. i take my shitposting seriously
mjulmjul · 1 year
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OUT OF TIME
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muffinninjafairy · 5 months
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Life Update
Oh my goodness, to be quiet frank I have no idea when was the last time I have actually sat down and made a text post. I one day was going through my archives and everything that was going on in my personal life from over a decade ago and never really spoke about what happened to me from then to now... so I guess I will.
I've personally have been more active socially on discord, and more so been using my socials as platforms for my work, but I also remembered , this is my blog so I'm gonna blog. I have no clue how many people from all those years ago are still on here but if you are, I hope all is well.
TIME CAPSULE TIME~ (These are all summaries of the time minimizing details because of personal reasons) I guess I would say my activity started to become less and less as of like 2015 - 2016, Like I was on here, but mostly reblogging and running off. To put it in the frankest of terms, I was having a sever mental episodes during that time frame. With a lot of personal situations happening with my family and not being in a healthy environment to properly regulate my emotions nor the proper support system to help me with what I was going through.
On July 11th 2015 I was admitted to the hospital for a mental breakdown that caused me to be taken away via ambulance. There I was diagnosed with BPD and Bipolar 1 (manic depressive episodes) . The health care system where I came from was not at all great, my phycologist over medicated me to the point where I would have black out spells and seizers (then given medication for those seizers) . My family still then refused to support me and so I clung to what ever I could for validation. As a result of this I tried to become hyper independent.
Months after being released from the hospital I moved out of my house and with an old high school buddy and their partner. Then after I entered a long distance relationship. Which in toe turned very toxic very fast. But being blinded by my BPD, I stuck with it for 2.5 years.
In February of the next year I was kicked out of my roommates apartment because of my job being closed down and had no income. So I was forced to move back home with my father. In those years from 2016 - 2018 felt like my absolute rock bottom, I would have extended periods of time where I never left the house and hid in my room. In fear of the world around me. My relationship was not helping if not hurting me more and more. They did not care about me or what was going on, only what they wanted out of the relationship. My father was becoming more and more verbally abusive and felt that I deserved nothing. I did have a new job then too but it was a dead end job and was paying very little (8.25$ an hour when I left I was being paid 10$ an hour)
2018 comes around, this is where I feel things starting to change, I met my DnD Group (March 2018) at this time but because of the toxicity of my ex, they left me because I would no longer isolate myself and wanted friends. (May 2018) Time goes by, me and the DM of the DnD start becoming closer and start our relationship in Sept. 21, 2018.
2019 Comes by and I get hit with reality, I need help. My episodes were coming back and I was hurting those around me, So finally I pulled my boot straps and looked for professional help. Once I found the therapist for me, I started to improve, my relationship with my partner and my friends increased in strength. I was still having problems at home with my family, but came to the realization that if they didn't want to be part of my healing journey then they didn't need to.
2020 is here and me and my partner are becoming serious, to the point of planning our future together. we scrounged and saved until the end of the year where we finally had enough to move in together in a new state. I quit my dead end job, and sent my stuff across country.
In Febuary of 2021 I finally said goodbye to my home and my partner and I moved to their grandmothers home temporarily until we secured an apartment. Once we did we collected everything and with the moving truck we drove to our new home.
we have been here ever since and I could not be happier. I have had a stable job for 2 years now, I've also been promoted within the company, I can actually go out now with out having an anxiety attack, I have friends both online and IRL, I have been in a 5 year relationship and still striving for the future. I can finally be myself without having to hide away in a room for years. I can actually be independent. It took some time but I feel much more mentally healthy.
Long Story Short: For a very long time I was stunted by my environment and did not have tools properly to grow until one day I was allowed to. Now I'm doing much more positive things for myself and receiving the support I needed. I am loved and cared for. Life can get better. I am doing a lot better.
I honestly do not know how many people are still here that knew me during this time period . But I am alive, healthy, and being the best I can be.
I also don't know why I felt the need to explain my life, I guess reflecting from then to now. I guess I wanted to share my progression cause I am proud of who I am now. And if throwing it into this void and someone sees this. Hope this lets you know that things can get better.
Love you cuties Shaylee
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crestfallon · 2 months
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✦ ・— [ riz ahmed. cis man. he/him. ] || OMG! Was that RAYAN RAFIQ wearing the new Chanel boots? Hard to believe that a INKOGNITO OWNER / FREELANCE MODEL could afford those. Ugh, I hate to say it but they kind of pull it off. When you’re THIRTY NINE, I guess you think you can do anything. They’ve only been in fashion for at least FOUR YEARS and I’ve heard that they’re SNARKY and DEEPLY ARTISTIC but don’t believe everything you read! According to THE WORD ON THE STREET, they’re actually BITTER and UNRELIABLE. Ha! Well, I hope they know a million others would kill to be them. They better be watching their back. That’s all. ||
Their Current Rank: 1 Star - though he personally has found some attention, through social media mostly by freelance modeling && pushing his tattoo career to the next level, guest appearing on specific shows, and performing artistry at conventions, etc, his name is unknown outside the direct, relatively small bubble of the community. he craves more.
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basics:
under co still, will fill out the rest later
nicknames:  ray, to his friends.
birthplace: texas, usa.
sexuality: bisexual.
religion:  raised muslim, not really practicing, mostly agnostic, tends to do a little more than he normally would around ramadan.
relationship: in a relationship with owen burr
date of birth: nov 11th.
zodiac sign:  scorpio.
extended traits:
hobbies: drawing (both sketchbook and digital, he loves to do pen drawings), tattooing, spray-painting, sometimes will blow the dust off his old, cracked skateboard and then shake his head no. he likes fashion-related reality tv, coffee in the mornings and a rolled joint to start the day. eating cereal for dinner. photoshoots, dancing, live music, taking pictures and memorializing everything. getting what he wants.
dislikes:
labels/inspo: the deadpan snarker, the artiste, the black sheep, the maverick.
BACKSTORY.
+ (subplot information) i would love for ray to have been involved in the robbery, somehow! possibly as a fence, a buyer, or even as a direct hand involved in the operation. he is willing, and desperate, to do anything to save his shop, his team, his career, and his reputation... and, hey, fame wouldn't be too bad, either. he has dreams, certainly. ADDITIONALLY, if he had to take a side in the suspicion thrown between the rivalling companies, he would loosely side with suberbia, as any/all attempts to get into the haus of red whatsoever has failed, and he may be bitter.. (subplot information ends).
big dream central for ray, honestly - his parents were immigrants from pakistan, and he was raised to work hard, never give up on his dreams, protect his own, and value his morals, above all else. he was taught to live humbly, comfortably, and his parents had little but love to offer their children, and worked long hours. he was the youngest, and the only to be born in the states, americanized from the beginning and always felt a little too large for their little life. none of their dreams seemed to fit his, but they were older, and they let him fly the nest after a few hard years of trying to tame his beast within. he never did allow it to settle, and he blossomed quickly.
full of ideas, of emotion, of thoughts, of energy, of beauty - rayan was everything that could fill a room, and he was every bit as awkward about expressing it. he fit like two left gloves, his dad would say, and he agreed. he just... was odd, in a way, that most others didn't understand. he worked for the year book committee, he loved to draw, excelled in any sort of artistic setting, and struggled with academics, but was relatively happy throughout his life.
jobs, and regular living, were always a bore. he just wanted to create, so create he did. bummed out throughout art school, bounced around jobs for awhile more, slept on couches, lived in a garage of a buddy for over a year, and finally started to figure things out.
when he bought inkognito five years ago, he didn't expect everything to change, but it did. he has a crew he adores, and he found some success on social media through his freelancing, becoming some sort of form of influencer type, tattoo artist personality in a smaller knit alternative industry... but he craved luxury. he always wanted more, so he tried and failed and tried a few more times to get into the industry as a model. or a photographer. or a designer. he doesn't care, he just wants to be part of the world he feels is so far away...
WANTED.
art hoes/creative friends; he went to art school, he hangs out in art museums, he will sketch while on the beach, he has digital art online that has gained popularity, he loves poetry - if it's anything deeply moving, artistic, or alternative/niche, he's there. a little art hoe crew would be a cute idea?
roommate(s), past; he's been a couch surfer before, and would proudly do it again, and has lived all over the place between texas and california, and especially los angeles. i would love a meredith grey/grey's anatomy situation in his life, where it's a revolving door to anyone who is fighting with their partner, needing a crash place, etc.
those rich, network friends; when you have a shop that close to the elite in the industry, and model at times when you get real lucky, you get to know people. these are ray's prized possessions; his ticket in, and in some cases, his genuine friends. others? nah, total marks. he'd use 'em in a heartbeat.
other freelance models/designers/etc; anyone else breaking into the business who he can scheme with, stragetize with, gossip with, etc!! would love some models he has worked with before in passing, or fellow social media budding stars.
exes/flings; he's never been one for commitment before, but he's been in la for at least seven or eight years at minimum, so i imagine within that time, he's tried to plant roots once or twice. probably almost fell in love once or twice, but they never worked out. we can plot why. now he is in a serious relationship for the first time, so maybe there is a chance at mending old bridges and regaining old friends?
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hatterhare · 3 months
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More Pauline Backstory stuff because inspiration strikes randomly and hard
Content Warning:
Abuse (general) / Misogyny / Murder (blunt force + beheading) / Death / Adultery
Pauline Margaret Tailor - later Pauline Margaret Dekker after marriage - was born on December 11th, 1942 to her parents Dolly Tailor (Mother) and Joseph Tailor (Father). She had an older brother - Daniel Tailor - and a younger sister - Juliet Tailor - whom she got along with well.
Joseph Tailor was not a kind man and would often enact strict rules on his wife and children - particularly Pauline and Juliet. This led to Pauline having an extremely close relationship with her mother. Her mother, being a seamstress, would teach her daughters how to sew and create things from bits of fabric left over from her projects. Pauline immediately fell in love with the idea of creation and especially all the different colors things could be made from. She heavily associated different colors with different emotions and would color code everything in her life accordingly - including her diary.
As Pauline grew older, her childhood fascination with color and emotion grew more intense. She would spend hours detailing how different colors made people react - in a multitude of contexts. Writing all of her observations down in notebooks she kept under the boxspring of her bed. She wasn't very popular in school due to her bookish nature and she didn't have much interest in dating. She kissed a boy on a dare, but she either didn't notice when people liked her or outright ignored them.
Unfortunately, when she was in her senior year of high school, Pauline's brother got killed in a hunting accident. Their father brought him home wrapped in a quilt their mother had made and he was buried in the backyard. When washing the quilt, Pauline had what seemed to be a mental break at the time as she began to panic and describe in detail exactly what her brother felt in his final moments. She clung to the quilt as she was carted to the hospital, as even though it caused her distress, it was also somehow keeping her close to Daniel. Since then, Pauline has been fixated on the idea of quilts and quilting and began making blankets as a way to ease her mind when she begins to miss her brother or other things upset her.
Eventually, Pauline tried to apply for college, but found it difficult to get in as a woman in her time. She eventually brought all of her research on psychology and color to the Dean's office - who promptly laughed in her face. Saying, quote, "Doll, with a pretty face like yours, you shouldn't be writing about this sciencey stuff. Why don't you go home and worry about what's for dinner instead, hm?" Pauline left in a hurry, bursting into tears behind the head office. There she met George Dekker, a clean dressed man who offered her a hankerchief and asked her what the trouble was. The two immediately hit it off, despite some of George's odd behaviors. Eventually after a lengthy courting process, the two of them got married and moved to Gotham City.
George claimed the move was for work when Pauline questioned him why they were so close to so much crime. She felt uneasy, but accepted it as an answer. For a while she and George were happy, she was a homebody who was happy to be so and George brought home enough money to be comfortable and spoil his wife. But, as the years went by, George grew increasingly distant. He became cold to his wife, working extremely long hours at work only to come home in such a bad sorts that he barely acknowledged Pauline outside of barking at her to fetch his dinner. The money too was starting to inexplicably drain from their funds.
In such stressful circumstances, Pauline took up her old hobby of sewing quilts and soon the living room became a mess of random scraps of fabric and various pins stuck in the furniture. One day, George accidentally pricked himself on one of Pauline's thick needles. He used her current project to stop the bleeding. Proceeding to berate his wife, screaming at her and throwing her sewing supplies at her and into the walls. Eventually slamming the door as he left in his anger. Pauline cried as she picked up her supplies, eventually picking up the quilt her husband had bled all over. She was struck with the same kind of vision she had when she was cleaning her brother's quilt. A vivid play by play of George's memories. This time she stood strong as she watched the apparition of her husband - who had been secretely leading an underground mob and sleeping around with various women in the city.
Pauline became so blinded by rage that when her husband finally came home from work - she bashed his head in with a cast iron skillet. Proceeding to cut off his head and carrying it in her tote bag to where she saw the mob hanging out. She plopped it in front of the members, using it as intimidation to get them to follow her orders - which after some apprehension they eventually did. With the help of the gang, she avoided time in jail. Going to her husband's funeral stone faced under a black veil - it would be the only time wearing no color was enjoyable to her.
She continued to lead the mob for 40 more years. Using her men to do what she always dreamed of doing and amassing wealth and a reputation along the way. She learned to be a sharp shooter, getting scarily accurate with a pistol. She also found creative ways to use her memory seeing ability to dig up dirt on her enemies in a way few would detect. She also discovered that she could pull pieces of soul onto her needle if she pulled it all the way through someones skin - and she could trap them within her blankets if she used it to quilt with.
During her 40s, she met and fell in love with a lounge singer named Pearl Darling. The two had a secret affair. Pauline used her men to keep it private, silencing anyone who dared to try and out her. The two remained happily together until Pearl passed at the age of 68. Some of her soul now resides in a small felt doll Pauline keeps on her nightstand.
As Pauline has gotten older, her vision has started to decrease, meaning she can no longer see colors as vibrantly as before. She has become obsessed with the idea of becoming younger, kidnapping random citizens to steal souls as she researches the key to immortality.
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gisellelx · 1 year
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Twilight Advent 22, Day 13
Masterpost/prompts
Dec. 13- What college major did each one of Bella's human friends choose?
Okay so. So time for some realism. One of the things I hate most about the movies, and then how fandom has taken and run with what was in the movies, is the idea that somehow Forks is like a suburb of Seattle--the school is super multi-cultural and chic; everybody has college dreams, prom is at a gorgeous golf course, everybody has a car, etc.
Forks is nothing like that. I had the privilege, if you can call it that, of traveling there before Twilight took off (who woulda thunk, given how enduring the series wound up being in my life!). There's really fantastic, worth-driving-six-hours-from-Oregon hiking and mountaineering to be done there. But as a tourist, you use Forks as a basecamp and you don't stay long.
Without Twilight, there is nothing in Forks, y'all. There is a diner, and a TruValue, and a bank, and like, a laundromat? The hotel we stayed in was an apartment complex that couldn't make it because there were too few people living there and they finally turned it into a motel because that at least kept people from squatting in the vacant units. It is an economically depressed town and the kids who grow up there don't have many prospects unless they work hard at making them.
So. There basically are no college majors. Few of the kids from Forks go to college. Of those who do, even fewer stay there. Most of them can't hack it. This is actually one thing the books ironically got right (though it was no doubt due to SM not knowing the standard US high school curriculum; she did not do this on purpose). They were teaching Bio I to 11th graders and Romeo and Juliet to seniors, where both would be part of the 9th grade curriculum at a high school with a high rate of college matriculation. So that means there were two levels of science below introductory bio, and three levels of English below what is typically taught as English 9, and so the first two years at that high school are basically a middle school curriculum. Ergo, you have a whole lot of kids who are not going to college.
I think Tyler, Lauren, Mike, Eric and Jessica did not go. Jessica probably attempted to go to Peninsula Community College in pre-nursing but the science was too hard and there was no English there. Eric also went briefly--as the class valedictorian, he got into U-dub and went down to Seattle for most of a year. But it was too far and too hard and after having felt like the king of the hill at his high school, he got depressed and zoned out on the hot new game, Call of Duty, eventually developing a pattern of absences, failing or withdrawing from most of his classes, and having his registration privileges revoked. So he moved back home. They stay in Forks or Port Angeles and have perfectly respectable, pay-the-bills jobs as adults—Mike probably joins the police force, Eric and Tyler take up the trades, Lauren eventually works her way up in one of the in-home daycares in town; Jessica trains as a CNA and works at Forks Community Hospital.
Angela and Ben go on. Angela gets in to Evergreen State (Go Geoducks!) and goes there because it's not too far and Ben goes to Peninsula and completes the Bachelor's in Business Management there. Angela gets a degree in early childhood ed, and moves to Seattle to take a job at a montessori school. She eventually gets her master's and becomes an elementary principal many years later. She and Ben don't stay together, but they remain good friends and he eventually also gets hired as an account manager at Microsoft and every now and then, they get a drink together.
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lifewithoutmeds · 1 month
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February 26, 2024
feeling better, in general, about things, thankfully.
quick ... month's recap: Monday, February 5th: went to visit caroline in the hospital. also met up with grace, her husband, and patrick. grace brought delicious burritos from sonoratown and we chatted with caroline as if things were normal despite the fact that she had had a seizure, was hospitalized, and more recently, we learned that she had a large brain tumor that would likely need removing. i teared up seeing her in the hospital bed, in the hospital gown, but i eventually was able to stop. Tuesday, February 6th: Lorena swung by on the way to work and we chatted and caught up a bit. Later that day i went to a 6:30 showing of Poor Things at the local theater which i didn't love, but am still glad i saw, just to see. Wednesday, February 7th: In the office. It says ... lunch with Lana. what did we eat? Hmm, strangely no idea.
Friday, February 9th: Doctor's appointment, dinner with Lana, as she swung by with fish king poke and salads and we ate a nice healthy protein-filled dinner. then we ubered to Hot Goss in ... Cypress? and we watched Sophie Santos again and some other queer or allied stand up comedians, and it was great. i a bit avoided sophie as i had recently learned that she was in a serious relationship with a very reputable and older director, and so i wanted to stay out of the way, out of respect.
Saturday, February 10th: Matt K came over with some e-waste and we dropped it off in sunland, then went to Barcade to meet up with his friends, and then i rushed home to sprint out again for a speed dating event downtown. traffic and parking was horrible, but i met up with steph, met some nice people, and then we kinda went to town, eating at sushi gen, and then winding up at Eighty-Two, drinking too much, and making a new friend, who in retrospect I don't think i care to keep in touch with. Sunday, February 11th: No church as I was just too tired to do anything. Probably did nothing the whole day and regretted how a few hours of fun at night did not equate the entire waste of the subsequent day. Monday, February 12th: worked from home, then went to CVS to pick up photos of Rafa for grace's surprise visit. Wednesday, February 14th: In office.
Thursday, February 15th to Tuesday, February 20th: a whirlwind of airbnb's, hotels, meeting up with grace, her family, and her friends, antoinette, her family, and her friends. lugging a heavy duffel bag everywhere, taking endless subways and buses, taking my heavy jacket on and off, sweating, then shivering. there was some fun, but more crying, which i'm a bit too tired to get into at the moment and which i've rehashed enough to kind of be over talking about for now. i also watched three episodes of The Curse, and decided to watch it once i got home, even though it meant subscribing to the Paramount Plus channel. Wednesday, February 21st: In office Thursday, February 22nd: Dr. Sobhani appointment at lunch and Kelda afterwork. Dr. Sobhani was rather pleased at my progress so we pushed our next appointment out further than usual. i also felt some progress with kelda and i was calmer than usual, which was nice.
Saturday, February 24th: Just slept, for hours and hours. i think my mom briefly came over with some bread/pastries, and i ate it, chatted a bit, then went back to sleep. i felt a bit bad that i wasn't productive and didn't check off anything on my list, but i also felt that i really needed rest, and that my past week had been super draining and i kind of enjoyed just lounging about, knowing i had no real responsibilities, and zoning out to meaningless things on youtube.
sunday (yesterday), i didn't end up going to church, but a bit at the last minute, hung out with tracy, who is still reeling from the unexpected passing of her mom. she picked me up as i've been having car trouble, we went to Gap outlet in burbank so she could return something, meandered about the mall, did a brief hike nearby, and then got some sugarcane drinks and wandered a bit before she dropped me back off. it was weirdly ... like comfortable, and not stressful. it was ... easy. i think there are so few people i can be like that with. lana. maybe nida. and i guess her, which is weird because we've known each other for just under a year but somehow we're pretty similar and/or she's just so empathetic that she gets me regardless of how different we are. i also watched In the Mood for Love at the local theater at 7 and was struck by how much i still enjoyed it, and how it dragged less than i remembered, how effective the music was, and how gorgeous maggie leung was. new crush. although now she must be in her 50's or 60's.
today is monday, February 26th, and it's been a productive day of dishes, work, dropping my car off at the mechanic's, getting picked up by my mom, and treating her to pho. i just agreed to get dinner with Patti even though i subsequently remembered that i don't have a car, but I do have uber, so i'll just get driven over.
i'm feeling weirdly ... calm. is it the drugs? am i getting exhausted with the sadness? within a week the Sophie storm that had raged through me just as suddenly calmed down. this morning i took a brief walk in the morning as the sun rose, and i think even made my bed almost as soon as i woke up. i've been weighing myself daily and committing to losing a healthy and hopefully attainable 1 pound a week. i bought some apples and i ate one yesterday and one today. i'm trying to get in 1-2 servings of fruit/vegetables a day, and average 10,000 steps/day/week. i walked close to 20,000 steps yesterday, but today was significantly less, partly due to taking my car in during my lunch, and partly due to some random rain that prevented me from going after work.
but in general i feel more calm, less frenzied. i'm journaling, as can be seen, and i watched 1-2 episodes of The Curse each night until i finished it. i read a bit yesterday too and think that i might be able to finish this book by the end of the month, which would be fantastic as I started this in August or September and i've been having so much trouble reading, and just focusing on anything but my own misery in general.
although i'm almost always focused "on myself," i'm trying to just be mindful and intentional with how i spend my time, with my diet, my exercise. i'm trying to decrease screen time, see more shows, and experience things outside of my head, and outside of my condo. i've eaten at a bunch more restaurants and bars so far, so think i'm okay with that aspect, but am thinking now that instead of a bar/week, maybe i could switch it out occasionally with a coffee shop/weekend, and i'll sip some coffee and read a book for 30 minutes or so. and just be. that might be nice.
i'm also cleaning more, and noticing that there are things that could use a deeper cleaning. my flatware. the little dirt trapped around my windows that make it harder to open and close. my laptop. just finding little projects around the condo that make me feel mildly productive but also maddeningly dull.
and i'm remembering .... that i'm feeling more like a former version of myself, but one that i don't find so despicable. yes, i kind of just endlessly scroll for things i might like to buy at REI and random camping goods that once i purchase, i immediately forget, but i'm also enjoying movies again, i'm tracking things, which i weirdly like doing. i'm watching minimalism and frugal living videos instead of police body cameras. i also feel like i'm a bit funnier, a bit lighter, a bit more appreciative.
i'm hoping i'm on a bit of an upswing and this isn't just the minor blip before the inevitable fall. i want to be more disciplined, and feel like the central character in a story, in my story. i don't want to feel ashamed of the way i look, and want to be in a body that i'm proud of, and in clothes that i think flatter me. i want to make sure i get regular haircuts and massages and exercise and just ... all of the things. i want to feel and be healthier.
i think i'm doing a bit of a better job in trying to clean things up in my condo. i got rid of a few bags of e-waste, like jadai's old vacuum and my robot vacuum, some wires, batteries, etc., just things i've wanted to get rid of for a long time. i took some stuff over to goodwill, and to the animal shelter. there's a lot that i've left undone, that i just .... lost the motivation and lacked the wherewithal to address, but i can feel myself gradually starting to care again, noticing things that need repair and/or attention. like getting rid of the old line in my fishing rods, and giving them a rinse as they haven't been used since last june. steven t has been reaching out and updating me on his kids, and wanting me to spend more time with them. grace k's family apparently has lice right now, so can't be socialized with, but once they are, i'd like to see them too. i'm just .... feeling things other than negativity, which is such a relief.
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fatedwithmbc · 7 months
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Over the past twenty four hours, I've attempted to write this post in my head. When you're a writer, this is a bad idea, because whatever words make their way to the inevitable edit don't seem as great. However, I'm going to put that aside. Also, I can't believe that it has been almost a month since my last post. I only know that because tomorrow begins session/round three of Ibrance, Alas, what has been in my head and brought me here:
In 1999, my Mom-Mom was determined to see my sister and I confirmed. I'm an Episcopalian and making your confirmation is the Catholic equivalent of everything important. So, my soul was on the line and I couldn't disappoint her or damn my soul for eternity (despite my understanding that baptism would provide the forgiveness of my sins. I guess that needs renewal in your teen years). To help learn the fundamentals of the lessons I needed to understand to successfully accomplish Confirmation, I would go to youth group each Sunday either before or after church to get my extra dose of God. This particular year, one of the activities we, as a group, were signed up for the AIDS Walk in Philadelphia.
There wasn't much to do to as a participant except to fundraise a particular dollar amount to earn your t-shirt.
I remember standing in lines outside of the museum for registration and I must of met the fundraising requirement because I received a t-shirt and tiny me had an XS and was swimming in that. I remember waiting in line with others in youth group, hearing the key note speaker, but not really paying too much attention. Undoubtedly, due to my age and my greater excitement of standing with and then the possibility of spending the morning goofing off with my crush as we walked the course; he had the same idea, only with his crush (hence the term crush). Beyond that, I remember the walk, the t-shirt, the failed flirting attempt, and being slightly glad to have had a true reason for procrastinating my homework.
This was my first experience with a 5K. Lackluster. A requirement. Underwhelming.
Fast forward about 15 years and I was determined to run a 5K on my own just to say that I could. It was a 4th of July "Fun Run" the Red, White and Zoo at the Philadelphia Zoo. I spent the day wandering about the zoo looking at all of the animals especially the Hippopotamuses, or is it Hippopotami?? Any trip to the zoo for me will include the Hippo's (they are my undoubtedly favorite animal in case you didn't know). One year, I was gifted a behind the scenes experience to feed Cindy and Una and I am still convinced that nothing with top that experience (Thanks. Dad!). Overall, the "Fun Run" was terrible, the course was cut short due to rain and a flooding in particular zoo sections. So, my first 5K was only 2.5 miles. I felt like a failure but it was supposed to be for fun. So I shrugged my shoulders and vowed I'd do it "next" time. This began my several year foray into running. And my roommate avidly supported me. I’ll never forget my sign and balloon after my failed 5K which gave me more motivation to keep going.
Despite the imperfect race, I found the Bonnie J. Addario Lung Cancer Foundation 5K, which for several years I did hard work to fund raise (organizing Dine & Donate’s with local restaurants) and participate. As the years went on, my reason for races and the impact I wanted to make became stronger. Especially for this organizations that were close to my heart, like BJALCF, as they did much work for lung cancer patients, which most who know me, know me Pop-Pop succumbed to.
After needing physical therapy for sore and improperly strengthened IT Bands (and I went back to school), I hung up my running shoes.
Many may be asking why I’m giving my life’s history on 5K’s, but I have one coming up for me. For my disease. For my own program who has helped me. Unite for Her will be holding their 5K on September 23rd in West Chester. I have a group of friends to walk along with me and I feel overly supported in the best way. I have also pushed hard for my fundraising and have been so appreciative to everyone who has donated (there’s still time)! This 5K feels like the most important I’ve ever participated in because of my diagnosis and because it supports the organization that supports women in my condition. They offer a way for women to take some charge in their treatment path, offering eastern medicine practices like Reiki and Acupuncture. I want to help this foundation as much as they’ve helped me. I’ve recognized how important it is to me to do what I can to support the organization. So if my history of 5K’s helps, then I’m glad I rambled through them. Thanks for reading and as always the support!!
My fundraising link is still active:
https://runsignup.com/ashleysibley
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longcelebrity · 1 year
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Myschool dude
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I had been there several times - I had literally peed in the same room as one of the plaintiff’s attorneys, and he had had no idea the guy next to him was trans. And being allowed to use the bathrooms we choose is a way to show support and make us feel recognized for who we are.Īt one hearing in this case, the judge asked me how many times I’d used the men’s restroom at the courthouse that day. What happens at school can make or break their world. I’m lucky to have a supportive family and friends, but most transgender kids I know don’t. I was so shocked and angry when I found out that other students were suing the school to stop the policy of allowing kids like me from using a bathroom that matches our gender identity. In my last semesters of high school, I made the honor roll three times in a row - something I had never achieved before because I had been too distracted and stressed trying to hide who I was. And in the locker room, I really felt like “one of the guys,” something I had been waiting for my whole life.īeing able to be my true self is more important than I can describe. When I ran my last race on the cross-country team, it felt great to hear the cheers from the other guys, my teammates. I even got elected me to the homecoming court. I knew I was a guy, and everyone seemed to support me. In 11th grade, the boys’ cross-country team asked me to join, and my counselor told me I could use the boys’ bathroom if I wanted to.īy the time I first walked into the boys’ bathroom in 12th grade, I was ready. I began the process of changing my legal documents, including my birth certificate, from saying “female” to saying “male.” I stopped competing on the girls’ track team - but stayed on as a manager because I loved the team. I began the process of legally changing my name to Aidan Maxwell DeStefano. I immediately felt different in every part of my life. When I went back to school in the fall, I asked my teachers to call me Aidan and refer to me as “he” or “him,” which they did. I was already wearing guys’ clothes at home, school, work, and church. That summer, I started taking hormones to helpfully become the guy I was meant to be. In 10th grade, I asked my teachers to call me “A” rather than my birth name, a girls’ name. I had started seeing a psychotherapist who is a gender specialist, and I started taking steps to live in a way that reflected who I am. I asked school administrators if there was another option, and they said I could use the nurse’s bathroom. It was uncomfortable, and it was clear that I didn’t belong there. When I started at Boyertown Area Senior High, the first time I stepped into the girls’ bathroom, the girls stared at me because I looked like a guy. Less than an hour after arguments in a federal court yesterday in Philadelphia, three judges rejected that argument and said that treating transgender students equally does not hurt anyone else. I started using the boys’ bathroom my senior year.īut a handful of students and parents at my school, Boyertown Area Senior High in Pennsylvania, sued to stop the school from allowing transgender students like me to use the bathrooms and locker rooms that match our their gender identities - saying the presence of someone like me there violates other people’s privacy. I was the first openly transgender student at my school and the first to publicly transition. I came out publicly as a boy in high school and went through therapy, hormone treatment, and surgery to help the body I saw in the mirror reflect the person I felt I was. Then while I was away at Bible camp, I blurted out over the phone: “Mom, I’m a dude.” She told me she loved me no matter what. I don’t like what I have,” but I held off on giving it to her. In seventh grade, I wrote a letter to my mom: “I don’t like my body. I was basically a happy-go-lucky kid, but I was also different. I'm sure I have many more detentions to be ready for.Įdit: HOLY FUCKING SHIT I FOUND OUT THAT MY GREAT GRANDAD WAS A NAZIĮdit 2: yall need to chill.When I was growing up, I avoided dresses and had short hair. I'm telling you, the teachers are literally dictators and our history teacher was making Hitler sound like a good guy.Īnyways, I got DETENTION for doing a nazi salute. I'm making the school sound better than it is. So naturally, about 10 of us did a nazi salute. HALF A FUCKING HOUR JUST STOOD IN A LINE IN SILENCE OUTSIDEĪs we were "practising" lining up (we're not in year two you Irish cunt) our headmaster said (through a mega phone because he was stood on top of a fucking hill) that we have to put our hands up and fucking salute. We have to line outside the school (instead of outside our form rooms) from 8:30 - 9:00. RIGHT IN THE FUCKING MIDDLE OR WE GET DETENTION. Our skirts have to be in the middle of our knee caps. Like I'm not gonna fucking summon satan by wearing black, karen.
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ladyofthecrows · 2 years
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Diary Entries from lately
Wed June 8th
Had a weird long dream where a rich girl looted a boutique style store as lots of people were looting it for supplies for s coming store, but she only stole art. A mirror, a towering building set, a lion statue, ect. She got caught with a big diamond necklace around her wrist but had ditched the cart with the rest and two needy children got the rest of the pretty things, made a collage kinda state out of it in the street as the rich girl got all the flack. It was around just long enough for the rioting town to take offense before the storm took it out too. In that, the dollhouse was the mane, but in a mini dream I had when I closed my eyes again, I saw a A ferocious lion with french Cate for a mane, a pink lace dolly for a collar
Thursday June 9th
Had a weird dream where robbers were taking things out of our house in a weird convoy so I set a hoard of big dogs like all the big dogs I'd ever met on them because they were apparently ours but then the robbers had guns so I had to walk the kids back into the house one by one and they kept getting on the convoy and getting carried out
You had your second day of work today and met a very good dog, several good dogs but one with a big dumb black meat head
Also bobby finally felt well enough to come out and say hi while you were making dinner
Got my period though, really bad one. Most of today was spent in bed working on art ideas, studying a few artists. Favorite idea of the day is a slutty illustration of always sunny
You're starting to burn out on skyward sword on the switch and tomorrow you're gonna get some food from the food bank
We need to buy more kitty food, but I did the cat litter and changed the pads today. This is the second time ever we've been too broke to buy kitty food, and we can steal a bit to make up for it, so I'm not that worried. We buy such expensive food for them that it's kind of a source of pride
You've got 2y hours so far in skyward
Friday June 10th
Couldnt sleep after you woke me and I watched you do the lanayru boss in skyward, so I started my art blog around 5 in the morning and have been working on it since. It's about noon now, you've been at work since 730. I feel silly having nothing to show for my work. Oh well.
Lots of art done today, I'm proud. Feels a bit like an endless slog, NGL, but I posted a bunch for my first twelve hours and have some concepts I'm proud of. Hopefully it's worthwhile. I really, really hope so.
Please be patient, my thigh hair is unionizing by weaving itself together without realizing that I'm going to inadvertently rip out like half of it out when I stand up.
I wanna learn how to do risographs and ceramics
Kinda wanna do a secret in the Minecraft realm of a big yeti hiding its face in an old growth forest
Sometimes you just gotta have a toasted peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich
Sat June 11th
Awake and alone with Monty in your spot, he curled up on my shoulder and is purring and burning warm. I feel safe. I feel good knowing he is safe. You went to bed hours ago, but I only got a nap in. It was still nice to curl up besides you. You gave up your day off yesterday so you're unofficially taking tomorrow off, and I think you deserve it.
The sky is the same color as Boris today, a lovely calm rain day.
Sun, Jun 12th
Bobby is talking about doing keto and were trying to talk him out of it so he doesnt hurt himself. Otherwise- It's been a good day. You're off work, which is nice, and we've been lazy. Called with Cara for a bit, she's at an oddity fair and just got broken up with for being 'too perfect'. Also we found coke in the ceiling of the basement while trying to fix the light. Thanks ray and Karen. Love that for us. Bobby wanted to take it and we told him no ceiling coke, understandably. He grumped.
Monday June 13th
Today has been a Very Good Day. Bobby is about to leave so we bought him a cake (strawberry, with writing that said 'so long pardner' on it), some beer and some hot wings, gram sent a bit of money and we got great deals on some veggies. He visibly lit up after having woke up Grumpy, it was the sweetest thing. We both shared a ciggy with bobby before heading out to value village to do some searching, psyched about that. I'm gonna try and do your birthday present with stuff from the dollarama, but we ended dup not going- robbed the hell out of vv, petsmart, Michael's, and walmart though. Like 300 bucks worth? Most notably, my Aaonanai yarn, you intend on making a little moth for me with it. I'm still just an little sad Bobby is leaving. I'll miss him a lot. Highlight for me was getting 4 notes on my digi painting of Muffin without needing to fish for notes or anything. Made me really, really happy. Oh, and we got some cute new bowls for a buck at a garage sale. You took a day off of work, had to get a power bar for your top teeth tho, poor thing.
Tuesday, June 14th
Today was really great. Just. Wow. I woke up early and sketched in the garden, you came out and we got groceries and had a little ice cream date at the water front, drove around. Came home and watched paint your wagon, then you two played some video games and I worked. You're asleep now to drive bobby to the airport at the asscrack of dawn and I'm staying up to make sure you get up. Very pleasant indeed.
Sat, June 18th
Sorry I havent written. Rough couple of days. Had a big crying fit, you had some rough days at work. Still tight on money. We're okay.
Yesterday was nice though, technically today in our brains since we just went to bed but whatever. You had long gasp in your schedule so you got to come home for lunch and a nap, which was a lovely surprise. I love you. Right now you and Monty are snoring together so every time you breath out he breaths in and vice versa. Its 2 in the morning and I couldn't love you more.
Wednesday, June 22nd 
The last couple days have been nice. We've been ridiculously tight, but Ma sent us money, so we had burgers last night, made chocolate chip cookies today, and saw fireworks the night before by chance. Tonight you finished Skyward Sword and revealed that we can play some old 64 games through a neat thing the Switch is doing, which I'm jazzed about, and Gran is helping with rent tomorrow. Things are good. I love you. Oh, and we played champed up with the boys, which is always good. They're really in their element on the farm. Also Muffy was just suckling and twitching in her dreams again, sweet baby, then went to have a snack when she woke up. 
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nevernevadahq · 2 years
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Everyone suspects ISAIAH NASIR of at least one of the cardinal sins, but in Nevada, the worst sins are bound by blood and this is HIS: THE BROTHERS OF ICHOR’S ROAD CAPTAIN. HE rolled the dice FIVE YEARS AGO ago as a RIDER. Under the desert sun, he claims the act of TATTOO ARTIST. He’s often mistaken for RIZ AHMED before those crimson colored glasses slide down his nose. IZZY better get busy living, or he’ll get busy dying by the ripe age of THIRTY-FIVE. There are no second acts in a marked life, and it’s measured out by the melody of WHEREVER I MAY ROAM BY METALLICA.
DATE OF BIRTH: November 11th, 1987
GENDER AND PRONOUNS: Cis Man, He/Him
HOMETOWN: Brooklyn, NY
MARK: Jacket
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY [TW: DEATH]
Isaiah Nasir was raised in a three-story townhouse in Brooklyn, New York alongside other children not unlike him — other children who, for a variety of reasons, could not stay with their birth families. Some children had been given up, others had been taken away, others had been left behind. Some children were prone to outbursts, some were withdrawn, some were people-pleasing, some were rebellious. Isaiah was a little bit of everything. He was cordial and cooperative with those smaller or meeker than him, but those who were bigger or meaner were not so lucky. If a fellow child chose to belittle, ostracize, torment, or undermine an undeserving party, they had their head slammed into a desk, hand stabbed with a sharpened pencil, or skin marred by crooked teeth marks. Few staff members would admit it, but these actions were often deserved — and even more troubling, they regularly achieved their goals. Torment eased, balance was restored; and though he had to endure the consequences, Isaiah felt his actions were worthwhile.
However, the staff’s sympathy for Isaiah’s sense of justice faded along with his youth — a rambunctious child was one thing, a disorderly teenager was another (and in the eyes of the legal system, too). The staff knew they were likely powerless against Isaiah’s need to smoke cigarettes and tag blank walls with krink markers, but what they hoped to do was at least prevent him from “landing any real jail time”. Teenage Isaiah had scoffed at the idea of it, but once he realized “art therapy” meant “one hour a day dedicated to drawing WITHOUT anyone breathing down my neck or asking ‘can you draw me’ six thousand-fourty million times”, he was all for it. It was a mutually beneficial agreement, and calmed the tensions between Isaiah and the home staff. After all, the hours Isaiah spent at the home drawing were hours he was not spending in a holding cell.
Even as Isaiah and the members of his home aged and got their heads shrunk, chaos abounded. The values were simple — respect, responsibility, honesty, and caring — so why was it so difficult to abide by them? Years would pass, and Isaiah would come to understand it this way: each child (each person) was as complex as the circumstances which created them. Just because something worked for him didn’t mean it worked for everyone else — but even so, didn’t everything run smoother when people tried to agree? When people cooperated? When no one tried to assert themselves over the other? Isaiah learned that this attitude, while virtuous and not incorrect, would get him fucked up in a moment’s notice if taken onto the streets. Shit was tough — he had to be tougher.
“Peaceful methods only work on people who care about peace. People who conduct themselves violently, who do wrath for wrath’s sake, cannot understand and won’t be swayed by peace. Tolerance can only go so far.” Is what Miriam told him. Miriam was the head bartender and co-owner of Vig’s Bar, a dimly-lit dive where Isaiah got his first real job. For the three years prior, Isaiah had been making petty cash off drawing logos, show posters, and merchandise for the local heavy metal bands that played at Vig’s — but bar-backing there was the first steady situation he’d ever had. And he was 18 now, so he could not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. Miriam understood this — about a decade earlier, her girlfriend (a tall brunette named Claire who Isaiah had terrible a crush on, likely because she was so extremely unavailable) had been in a similar situation — so she took Isaiah under her strong, heavily-tattooed wing. Soon, Isaiah was living in Miriam and Claire’s spare room, riding and repairing motorcycles with Claire’s brother on the weekends, and learning to tattoo from Miriam’s go-to artist.
Isaiah loved Miriam for her kindness as well as her strength. Isaiah wanted to be like that. He wanted to be tough, fair, caring, generous, intelligent, and loyal. He wanted to do for others what Miriam had done for him. A handful of years after they’d met, he spoke these words at her funeral, crying as Claire held his hand.
Claire tried to hold Vig’s down, but she couldn’t make it work. Rent was rising. Bands were moving out west. Clientele dwindled. Vig’s closed. Claire moved to Oregon, leaving Isaiah with an apartment he could barely pay for. The veil of grief was thick and heavy — Isaiah wallowed for about two weeks before he began to hear Miriam’s gruff voice in his head, telling him to get his ass up and get to work. For her was the mantra. He’d do it for her.
Six years after Miriam’s death and 28 after his birth, Isaiah decided it was time to get out of New York City. He’d never been anywhere west of Massachusetts, and he was antsy (or as Miriam would have said, shpilkes).So why Nevada? Well, why not? He knew the bike ride out there would be phenomenal, and he knew he could make money tattooing there. He had fuck-all to lose, and a lot to gain — because, y’know, he’d say to anyone who asked, the venn diagram of people who like motorcycles and people who like tattoos is practically a circle.
Isaiah’s interest in motorcycles, tattoos, and leather led him (naturally) to the Styx. It was his sense of justice, order, and politics that led him to The Brothers of Ichor. He spent five years riding with them before being promoted to Road Captain. He strives to be a dynamic, honorable Road Captain; and faithful guide to his Brothers. He is tough, fair, caring, generous, intelligent, and loyal. He enjoys heavy metal, horror films, whiskey, and spending time with his black cat named Obituary.
Isaiah Nasir believes in the collective. Paramount to him now is the concept of family. Family is a moving, breathing thing. It is a group of people, willfully chosen or otherwise, who pledge adherence to shared values. Family is a group of people existing in intermittent states of vulnerability, strength, compassion, and firmness. This is the way to truth, to life. Self-reliance leads only to isolation, stagnation, destitution; without others, there is nothing. Family — the collective, the group, the whole, the unit of many —is everything.
ISAIAH NASIR IS WRITTEN BY OZZY.
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flokali · 2 years
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♢ Favorite | Childe
Alternative Title: Yours
Includes: Yandere, Slightly suggestive, Cult, D//rugging, K//idnapping, S/A, N-C kissing SAGAU
Warnings: Slight perv Childe, Yandere, talks of bruises/scares, allusions to past mistreatment (verbal and physical), Childe climbs on top of you and kisses you while ur dr/ugged… so yeah idk what to tag that?
Word count: 3.2k
A/N: closeted pervs, pervs… pervs who’re obsessed with you? mhm… yes, i like that. yes. anyway, i’m working of D.V pt 2 and other stuff but yeah take this for now </3 hopefully this isn’t too messy </3
Intended for mature audiences (17+)
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You wondered why you thought you had a chance in the first place – not once since you’d arrived had things gone your way, from the cruel words thrown at you in Mondstatd to the harsh blades that sliced you in Inazuma, ever since you’d arrived at Teyvat things had gone horribly wrong for you.
Now here you were, being chased by the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia, for sins unknown to you.
You’d stumbled upon the rough edges of Dragonspine and naively ran straight into the harsh temperament of never-ending winter, hoping the ginger would simply let you be but alas, fate had different plans, and he followed you into the freezing temperatures, bow and arrow in hand.
It had been almost an hour of being lost in the hellish winter lands, but considering he’d been chasing you for days – his patience shouldn’t be surprising.
“Stop making this harder than it needs to be, pal,” Childe mocked, his voice was rough as if he was scolding a child, “you got caught, now give up… this is starting to get really annoying.”
“I normally enjoy this sort of stuff,” he sighs, his voice muffled by the softened snow and fair amount of distance you’d managed to gain, “chasing and hunting, but you… God, you… you really messed up. Showing up looking like that, acting as if you had no idea what you were doing was… disrespectful, matter of fact, that’s what you are; disrespectful and ungrateful, acting like a little kid, and that’s coming from me.”
You wanted to ask what he was talking about, scream and beg him for answers – he spoke as if he understood why you were being targeted, almost as if he wasn’t the one with a finger on a trigger waiting for your next wrong move.
Your body felt weak, you hadn’t eaten in so long — you’d been rejected food and water — your body was fatigued, you were hurting and the freezing temperatures nibbling at your exposed flesh didn’t help. For reasons unknown, as most things were around here to you, you didn’t have to sleep nor eat as often as others — being able to spend the equivalent of days without basic needs, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t growing starved and tired.
The Fatui doesn’t stop talking, he had nothing to worry about — his clothes were warm and his basic human rights had been served, not only was he ridiculously strong but he had every and all advantages over you, from a fed stomach to a good night’s rest and a weapon, you were mere child’s pray to an experienced hunter.
His words were insulting, criticizing your character – which he’d never taken the time to know, you note – to your appearance, the way you moved and acted, nothing was off the table as he tore you apart with words as he waited to rip you apart later.
Is this how you die? — you muse, you decide to tune out his sing-song voice, his words hurt and why focus on more pain when death was basically inviting you over for a cup of tea?
The thought brings tears to your eyes, tears that had been piling up since the day you’d arrive to this hell-hole, you had been home one day – playing games and enjoying life, your life, as pathetic and miserable as it may seem to some, and now you were here; being prosecuted and sentenced for a crime you didn’t even know about.
The people you’d helped, stupid, brainless string of code and characters in your stupid, time-consuming game that didn’t offer any real life consequences (that shouldn’t offer real life consequences) turned their backs on you and left you to die a slow and painful death. How pathetic.
This is how you die — you think, certain of your impending doom.
You were crying, all of your strength now concentrated in your shaking form, tears now streamed down your face – you didn’t notice too busy in your worn self pity to realize, but the harsh temperatures further dropped with the evidence of your sorrows running down your face, with every tear the mountains seemed to weep alongside you; snow now fell at a more frequent pace echoing the water dripping down your face.
“What did I do wrong…” You ask the skies, no longer caring to hide — it was inevitable that he’d find you. Your sobs grow louder the closer he gets and the quieter he becomes, soon – you couldn’t make out whatever cruel remarks he was spouting, probably busy focusing on the meek sounds escaping your weakened body trying to get this over with, he was enjoying your suffering, wasn’t he?
He stops walking (something you vaguely note, too tired to try and escape now), in mere seconds he’s standing behind the rock he’s certain you’re hiding against – all he needs to do is ambush you, strike your chest with an arrow and things would be over with, he’d be back on track to Liyue and off to his next destination. And yet, his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the wooden handle of his bow – he couldn’t bring himself to aim.
But isn’t this what he wanted? He’d asked The Tsaritsa for a longer stay in Liyue for this exact moment, he’d even followed you through Liyue and up until this damned mountain. He would have finally gotten rid of the fake God, the pest that had been making its way around Teyvat making a fool of themselves and everyone around them. He wouldn’t have been so bothered if it hadn’t been someone impersonating you, but that wasn’t the case — the idiot, the absolute bastard, had the balls to make a divine comedy of you and it made Childe sick.
And yet, as he stood above you, only a few steps away, a lift of a finger from ending your life, he couldn’t.
Something deep inside him made him stall, he didn’t understand why until you finally spoke to him for the first time in the almost three days he’d been hunting you like sport.
“At least tell me what I did to deserve this, Ajax.”
Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax ,Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… you called him by his name.
Ajax.
No one knew his name – more like, no one should know his name, so why did you – some outlander, some weird, demented freak making a mockery of his God know his name?
He let the thoughts simmer in his head; an outlander that knew his name, that knew where they were without even looking at a map, one that navigated the hills and their surroundings like an expert, that had the soil and skies of Teyvat answer their cries, who managed to affect Dragonspine’s weather… you weren’t a freak, he realizes as horror sinks in, and he was the bastard.
He was the bastard that was about to kill God.
The realization comes to him and he almost drops to his knees, as if someone had punched the air out of his lungs, things suddenly made more sense – the reason he was so compelled to follow you, how you seemed to never run out of energy, how things always turned out in your favor even if they shouldn’t, you were God. His God. Of course he’d be moved the way he was, even if his mind didn’t know it, his spirit, his soul did, his body did.
He was about to kill God.
The only thing that had kept him going during his time inside the Abyss, the very thing that gave him hope for a better future, he had chased away and threatened.
You hear the odd sound he lets out – something between a scream and cry, a muddled laugh of pain and confusion – and you’re tempted to look around to see what had happened, you knew Childe was close, so why didn’t he just go and get it over with? Was he… was he mocking you? This had to be an attempt to make this more fun, have you crawl out of your hiding spot so he could pounce on you and kill you in the open so he’d have more space to be creative.
You still want to turn around, after all no matter what you did your fate was sealed — you obviously weren’t leaving the mountains alive, so would it really matter if he killed you against a stiff rock or soft snow? But he beats you to it and bright blue eyes meet yours much to your shock. You feel heart stop.
He doesn’t say anything, whatever episode that had previously consumed him gone, as his hand reaches out and you flinch, instinctively throwing your body back in fear, in hopes he’d leave you alone — his eyes widen and soon fill with sadness but he doesn’t take his hand back, rather, he reaches forward to pull you closer to him, his weapons are nowhere in his person as shaky hands explore you, almost as if looking for something.
He’s hugging you, and unbeknownst to you, while trying to get a feel for your body to see if the familiar warmth he’d feel whenever he acted as your vessel was there; it was, overflowing from your shaking body, further confirming that you were indeed who he thought, who he feared, you were.
“What are you…?” You want to question, your voice comes out barely a whisper above the sounds of wind pounding against the trees.
“Say it again,” he whispers, pulling you impossibly close to his body – effectively shutting you up, “say my name again, please.”
“…” You can’t move, afraid you’d upset him and cause him to shove a knife down your throat or whatever he planned to do.
“Please,” he squeezed you tighter, you choke at the sudden roughness, “I need to know if I heard you well.”
It was a lie, of course, he knew you’d said his name loud and clear, – Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… he could repeat the memory in his head forever and not get tired – with the most adorable pronunciation he’d heard, it was making him feel dirty for the thoughts that flooded his mind in regards to you. You had called him by his name in such a familiar way, a way he’d only heard in his dreams.
“Ajax?” You let out, your body was cold and you just wanted to get everything over with, “I… I called you Ajax.”
“So it is you,” he lets out, a dry laugh coming from his lips, gloved hands grip at your clothed body like a starved man, “hah… you should’ve said something sooner, it would’ve saved us so much time… your highness.”
Completely confused you try to push him off, what was he saying? Your highness? One second he was trying to kill you, then he was asking you to say his name, and now here he was – addressing you as some sort of divine figure? If this was part of his plan to torture you, it must be very effective because you’re soon growing exhausted at the way he’s acting, your time here had been pure and utter misery, and dealing with a two faced man who didnt know if he wanted you dead or close only aggravated you more.
No matter how much you tried to push him off and get him to answer your questions – mote like demands for answers, the Harbinger wouldn’t budge, instead opting to lift you off the ground and carry you. He lifted you without a warning, leaving you speechless for a good while as you try and reason what’s going on, still so caught off guard you don’t even realize you’ve asked him where you’re going until he’s giggling like a high schooler.
Your face might have been hidden under the fur jacket he was wearing, your vision being rendered useless, but you could still hear the smile, the fondness in his voice as he stated what to him must have been the most obvious matter in the world; “I’m taking you home.”
He says it like it’s some sort of joke you’re supposed to get, but you’re left to wonder what it meant as he provided no further context.
He doesn’t let you down, literally, for even a second – making the treacherous journey from your hiding spot to where he’d set up camp with little to no complaints, seemingly deep in thought at what had just transpired in the last hour, you don’t try to make conversations either as your own thoughts consume you.
“I just can’t believe it,” he mumbles, carrying you to what you presume to be his tent, “they had it all so, so wrong… hurting and attacking you, poor little thing. It’s okay, my love, I’ll make it up to you,” he doesn’t seem to expect any answers as he drones on, “so I’m going to heal you and keep you to myself while I figure out what to do with you. Doesn’t that sound nice? Your Ajax will make it all better.”
Oh how lucky he was, meeting and recognizing you before any other man or woman in Teyvat. So what if his original intentions hadn’t been as savory as he wished they had been, the past is the past and you’re safe with him now.
You’re carried inside the tent and immediately handed a bottle of warm liquid you don’t hesitate to down — you hadn’t had a drink or food in days, and even if Childe intended to dispose of you afterwards, who were you to deny yourself of being taken care of, even if it was for one last time.
There was no one around other than you two, you realize – no Treasure Hunters nor Fatui, nor guild members seemed to be nearby. But you didn’t mind, too preoccupied trying to figure out what the blue eyed man could want to do next — you’d accepted your fate but it didn’t mean it didn’t scare you.
It’s not even a few minutes later that you realize you can’t bring yourself to ask anything, your body slowly succumbing to a paralyzed state where you could only feel warmth – while there had been no previous attempts from either of you to talk, Tartaglia too busy buried in his own thoughts to speak to you now and you too scared of setting him off, you realize too late there’s a lot you want to say.
Realizing your now relaxed state (due to the concoction he had you drink earlier on - he knew you didn’t trust him enough to willingly realz around him), Ajax begins to look at your otherwise frozen body, you’re not able to resist as he slowly strips you off your clothes in favor of his spares; ones that left you exposed as he looked over and tended to your wounds, by the time he’s got to use the alcohol to disinfect the cuts on your body you’re inches away from being knocked out.
He was uncharacteristically quiet while assessing your figure, only letting out huffs and grunts when he caught sight of a particularly deep scar or bruised patch of skin he wished he didn’t have to see. He took the moment of silence to think, you must have suffered greatly in the last few months you’d been stranded here – alone, hated, feared, it must have been hellish. The severity of his actions slowly dawned on him, he’d been brash – he hadn’t taken the chance to properly asses you, out of everyone, he should have been the one to quickly notice who you were; he’d been surrounded by imagery and depictions of you for so long, he’d dedicated so much of himself to you and yet, when he stood in front of you for the first time, he acted harshly and like a savage.
His heart aches and he hoped you were as benevolent as he remembered you being, he would work himself to his bones if it meant earning your forgiveness and favor once more.
“I can’t believe they would’ve done this to you, my love,” he finally breaks the silence, caressing your exposed collarbone, a fire now burned in the tent granting his face a gentle orange glow as the sun began to set, “I’ll take you to Liyue where I can heal you better, maybe find a doctor who can do a better job than me, but we’ll be leaving for Snezhnaya soon after you’re better so you can meet… my boss, I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to finally meet you.”
His voice holds no strong emotion, he can’t bring himself to forgive his actions — he’d been so childish, you probably hated him.
The thought struck his heart cold, you hated him. How was he supposed to live if you hated him?
“I am sorry,” he whispers, finally making eye contact with you, his fingers caressed your skin as if you were made of fine glass, afraid you’d break further if he applied too much pressure, “I acted out, I was stupid, and I hurt you.”
Your eyes were glazed, your head felt like it was floating – but you could still register his words, and maybe it was because he was the first person who’d treated you well, like you were a human, or maybe it was because you were too high off whatever substances was now flowing through your body but you spoke (even though it was too much effort for you to try and say anything too long).
“I… forgive you.” You let out a broken smile, muscles too tired to try anything that looked, well, good but your words were enough for him.
“You’re too kind to me,” he mumbles, slowly intertwining his fingers with your own – ecstasy slowly pumping through his veins as your words settle in, “I’m so lucky to have such a kind God,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, “so let me make it up to you, my providence.”
“Before that though, I…” He pauses, if he took you to Snezhnaya you’d be able to be protected by the Fatui and Her Excellency, you’d help bring their plan to life faster than ever — you’d be able to enact your just revenge with the Fatui by your side, with him as your second in command, however he could always… “I need to make sure I’m your favorite, don’t you think? I still need to make up for what I’ve done.”
God, was he a selfish bastard — but you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d already forgiven him for being so cruel to you, you’d forgive him for being selfish too, right?
His cheeks earn a sudden pink tint, your favorite; you’d love him, you’d adore him – you’d rule over the land with him by your side, he’d be everything you’d ever need in a partner, in a man.
Once you’d regained your strength, you’d shower him in love, you’d ravage him with gifts, you’d dedicate yourself to him, you might even allow him a chance to worship your body — give him the privilege to explore and devote himself to you like no other had done before. He’d become your most loyal follower, your most treasured creations, he’d become yours. Sure, he would still have The Tsaritsa to serve but when even she worshiped you, she’d understand. He could become a bargaining chip, he’d become yours – your knight in shining armor, in exchange for your help.
There were so many ways he could become yours, he felt a perverted shiver run down his spine.
Hah… he really wanted to be your favorite, to be yours.
They’d all treated you so badly up until he came, he was the first to realize who you were and your worth so surely that allowed him some leeway to cement himself as yours, only yours and only for you.
He slowly climbed above your dizzied body, leaning down to press a soft trail of kisses down your cheeks, his hands still entangled with yours. A soft moan leaves your mouth, earning you a groan from the man, if only you knew how much he had waited for this moment.
“Mmh, ah,” a trail of saliva connects the flushed skin of your neck to his tongue as he speaks, “let me be yours, I’ll…,” a lick is planted near your ear and Childe can’t help but groan at the taste – you were so addicting, “I’ll make it up to you… I’ll become your favorite.”
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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years
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Please Don't
Summary: Hotch and Y/N have been pining for each other but everything changes after they go undercover for a case.
Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence, angst
Word Count: 2289
a/n: Thank you for this request!! I love a good Hotch moment. I hope you like it!
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"Alright ladies! Here's the first round." Emily smiled as she set the four glasses down in front of you all.
Girl's night had just started. It being Penelope's turn to pick the nights events meant you, Emily, and JJ were in for a long night of bar hopping.
"Yes!!!" Penelope nearly screamed, grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp. "First question of the night goes to Y/N."
Your eyes widened as everyone turned to look at you. Whatever game Penelope was trying to play was clearly not going to go well for you.
"Oh, God. What is it?" You grimaced, eyes flitting between the three of them.
"When are you going to do something about your crush on Hotch?" Emily wasted no time in getting into the hard hitting questions.
"And don't even bother denying it! It's so painfully obvious." JJ added on, eyeing you skeptically.
"First of all, rude. Second of all, fine. I have a hopeless crush on our boss. Are you happy now?" You playfully glared, knowing there was no use in even trying to pretend.
"So? When are you going to do something about it?" Penelope was giddy, always one to celebrate new relationships.
"Uh, never." You deadpanned.
"Why not?" She whined in response.
"Pen, he's my boss for one. Plus it's highly unlikely he feels the same. I mean, how would I even bring that up?" You shook your head, trying to avoid the conversation.
"Y/N, Hotch is totally into you-" Emily's rant was cut off by the sounds of all of your phones buzzing.
You all shared a glance before confirming your suspicions.
"Another girl's night cut short." You shook your head. "Who needs a ride?"
The four of you quickly made your way out of the bar before piling into your car and heading to the Bureau.
-
"Damn ladies, looking good." Derek greeted you when you piled into the elevator together.
You hadn't thought about changing before coming in. None of you were wearing anything wildly inappropriate. Your outfit was just a bit more form fitting than a typical day in the field required.
"Thanks Derek." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the elevator and immediately heading for the conference room.
Aaron's eyes were on you almost instantly. He always looked for you first when a new case came in.
"You ever gonna tell her?" Rossi asked from next to him.
"I have no idea what your talking about." Hotch kept his face neutral despite knowing there was no real point in denying it to Dave.
"I see the way you look at her. You know, I see the way she looks at you too. you deserve to be happy, Aaron." He replied easily, a smirk on his face as he took a seat in the conference room.
Hotch merely shook his head, trying to supress the smile forming at the idea of you returning his feelings.
He quickly moved on to debrief the team ultimately telling everyone to meet at the jet.
-
Three days later, another couple was dead, and you were no closer to catching the guy.
"Wait, there's a new pattern." Reid jumped up, pointing out the abduction sites on the map. "He's moving south, alternating between 11th and 14th Street. Each abduction happened at a different club on those streets. If he follows pattern the next abduction will be tonight at Cameo." He pointed out the next club on the map.
"So we'll stakeout the club, stop him before he gets another couple." Morgan suggested.
"We can't risk a takedown inside the club." Hotch ran a hand over his face.
"What if two of us go undercover? Pretend to be a couple and then we can stop him when he tries to abduct us." You suggested a new plan.
"That could work." Dave added on, sending you a nod. "You and Hotch fit his victimology."
"What d'ya say, Hotch?" Your heart was beating rapidly, but you refused to let it show. "Wanna go on a date?" You playfully nudged his side.
"It's our best plan." He nodded resolutely. "Go with Emily to get something to wear."
You smiled at him before turning to see a mischievous look on Emily's face. She whispered in your ear as you walked out of the room.
"Get ready. Hotch won't be able to keep his eyes off you tonight."
-
"Are you sure I should wear this?" You pulled the dress down a bit, trying to cover more of your thighs.
"Yes. You look amazing, and this is definitely going to catch the eye of our unsub." JJ complimented as she added a few finishing touches to your hair.
"It's just now dawning on me why we don't do undercover work." You flinched away from Emily as she attempted to add a third layer of mascara.
"Oh, hush. This was your idea. Everything will be fine. Better than fine if you're lucky." She winked, capping the mascara and throwing it back into your makeup bag.
"Em, this is work. I'm absolutely not making a move on Hotch while trying to lure an unsub to abduct us." You deadpanned.
"I'm not saying make a move! This is your opportunity to flirt a little and see how he responds." She shrugged casually.
You were about to provide another rebuttal when a knock sounded on the door to the bathroom.
"Y/N, you almost ready?" Derek called from the other side of the door.
"Coming out now!" You nearly ran out before Emily or JJ could try to convince you to flirt with Hotch again.
"Damn, L/N." Derek smiled when you exited the bathroom. "Looking good. You know who else might think so?"
"Can it, Derek. I'm in no mood." You swiftly walked past him. You could hear Hotch arguing with Rossi about something as you walked up to the conference room door.
"Dave, cool it will you?" Hotch rolled his eyes, not noticing you yet.
"I'm just saying Aaron-" He tried again.
"Well, don't." Hotch's playfulness rarely came out on cases, but you could see a glimpse of it in the way he bantered with Dave.
"Ready to go?" You asked from the doorway, putting your comm's device in your ear. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at the way Aaron looked at you.
"Ready." He gave you a tight smile, diverting his eyes from your tight dress.
"We'll be right outside. All the exits covered." Dave reminded the two of you, nodding as you walked out the door.
-
"Here you go, one vodka cranberry." He winked when he passed the glass over, a subtle reminder about the lack of alcohol coursing through you.
"Thanks." You shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. You'd been by the bar for about an hour, and nobody suspicious had caught your eye.
"Do you want to dance?" You surprised yourself by asking the question, watching as Hotch's eyes widened slightly. "I just, the other couples? Didn't witnesses say they were dancing?" You whispered the last part, obviously trying to limit anyone overhearing your conversation.
"Right. Of course." He looked nervous, but you chalked it up to not doing undercover often.
You lead him to the middle of the dance floor, trying to find the best view of the doors. It took a few minutes of awkward swaying, but the two of you found your rhythm.
"Behind you, there's a man watching us." Hotch whispered in your ear sending a shiver through your spine.
You nodded slightly in response before turning around. You pressed your back to his chest to cover the movement, eyes flitting around the room to observe anyone suspicious.
It didn't take long for you to spot the man Hotch was talking about. You moved your arms up around his neck, pulling his head closer to you so you could whisper to him.
"Got him. How do we get him outside?" You suppressed the urge to grind your hips against Hotch's. It was hard enough to deal with the feeling of his hands on your hips.
He spun you around, pressing your chests close together. Again, he moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, "we just need to give him a show."
He pressed his lips to yours lightly, waiting for your response. You kissed him back with passion, relishing in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.
Your breath caught in your throat when he pressed a series of light kisses to your neck. You involuntarily tilted your head to the side, giving him more room to work.
"I think we've got his attention. Let's head out the back door." Hotch grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him toward the back of the club.
The cool night air sent a chill through your body, but you didn't have long before the man burst through the door behind you.
Hotch easily overpowered him, knocking the gun from his hands. He pulled handcuffs from his pocket, quickly securing his hands behind his back.
"Morgan, we got him out back." You spoke into your comms, turning slightly when movement in the shadows caught your eye.
"Y/N, get down!" Hotch jumped in front of you just as you heard a gun being fired. He fell into you, slumping against your body. Everything happened so quickly.
"FBI, drop your weapon!" Morgan yelled, running closer to the man in the shadows.
He quickly handcuffed the partner, leading him to a waiting officer while Emily collected the other unsub.
"Aaron?" You looked at him in your arms noticing the blood soaking through his light blue shirt. "I need a medic!" You called down the alley, watching in terror as two medics removed Aaron from your arms.
You were frozen in place as they put him on a gurney and pushed him into a waiting ambulance.
It wasn't until the ambulance was completely out of sight that you realized Reid was talking to you.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" He gestured to the blood on your dress and hands.
You nodded silently, pointing to where the ambulance just was.
"Let's get you to the hospital okay?" He spoke softly, not wanting to add to your distress. He grabbed a shock blanket from a paramedic before leading you to an SUV. Derek and Emily sat in the front, ready to drive as soon as you got in.
You don't remember the ride to the hospital. You don't remember JJ helping you wash the blood from your hands. You don't remember a nurse updating you on Hotch's surgery. You don't remember anything except the look in Aaron's eyes as he bled out in your arms.
"Aaron Hotchner?" The doctor called out into the waiting room. All six of you stood up, eyes fixed on the woman in scrubs. "His surgery was successful. I can take one of you to see him."
The whole team gestured to you, knowing how you felt and how much you needed to see that he was okay.
"Follow me." The doctor lead you down the winding hallways to a recovery room where Aaron was asleep. "He's still under anesthesia for now. It should wear off in a few hours."
You nodded as she left, still unable to form any words as you took in his pale appearance.
"Aaron." You whispered his name, eyes brimming with tears. You pulled the chair as close as you could next to his bed, both hands wrapped around one of his.
You must've fallen asleep because before you knew it, the hand in your grasp was squeezing you back.
"Aaron?" You lifted your head from the side of his bed, eyes focusing on his. "Oh, thank God." You felt the tears brimming again.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay." He murmured softly, moving his free hand to wipe your tears.
"No. You're an idiot who jumped in front of a bullet for me." You whispered back, voice breaking.
"I'd do it again." He took no time to craft his response, only causing more tears to fall down your cheeks.
"Aaron-"
"Y/N, I don't have anyone else in my life quite like you. I haven't in a long time." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. "You make me feel like I could be happy again. Like Jack could have two people to provide him unconditional love everyday in his life again. Like maybe, just maybe, I could love someone again. I would jump in front of countless bullets for you because I can't imagine my life without you in it."
"Please don't." You whispered, eyes still watery.
"What?" Hotch could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you not returning his affection.
"Please don't jump in front of anymore bullets for me. I don't think I could survive this feeling again." You took a deep, shuddering breath. "Watching them wheel you away on that gurney... it felt like my heart was being cut open. Aaron, there's not a day that goes by where you don't make me smile. Even if it's just the thought of you. I can't imagine my life without you either."
He continued to wipe tears from your face as you spoke.
"Would now be a good time to ask you out to dinner?" He smiled when you laughed.
"I think now is a great time for that." You smiled, leaning your head into his hand.
"Perfect. So, will you get dinner with me?" He nearly whispered.
"I'd love to." You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before setting back against your chair.
It didn't take long for him to fall back asleep. This time, when you leaned your head against his leg, your heart felt full.
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astrolovecosmos · 2 years
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Neptune: Deep Dive
Pink petals
fallen onto
night shaded
waters.
Nothing is ever as it seems.
Wood turned to metal.
Reality turned to dreams.
-Natasha Reeves 
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The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive. 
The Sea’s Love and Wrath 
Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow. 
Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies. 
Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea. 
Enlightenment and Madness
Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves 
There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog. 
The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding. 
Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power. 
It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see. 
Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes 
“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall. 
When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive. 
Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around. 
I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.
“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle. 
Alice: Imagination and Dreams 
Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality. 
Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams. 
Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence. 
Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit. 
What about Healing and the Spiritual? 
Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises. 
Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity. 
Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others. 
Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions. 
While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it. 
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raggaraddy · 3 years
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Play Pretend
Summary: When the chance comes to escape you're are going to play it smart to make sure you get away.
Trigger Warnings: Murder, gun usage, abuse, violence, kidnapping, imprisonment.
Jungkook
Yandere!Jungkook
Mafia!Jungkook
It's been about a week since Jungkook locked you in. Only now were the bruises on your ribs going down. And no matter how quickly he shifted back to normal and calmed down the damage was done, he’d shown you a truly terrifying side of himself and you knew he couldn’t be trusted anymore. The worst of it was that he never even feigned an apology. He didn’t think he was in the wrong to react like he did. He just went from one day to the next like nothing was different.
You felt so stupid. You had thought there was something not right with him the first time you met him. But instead of trusting your gut, you got swept up in his good looks and charm. And that lack of discernment is the reason why you've been trapped in his house for a week now. You tried to tell him that people would be looking for your eventually. But with full certainty, he assured you that wouldn’t be the case. You weren’t sure why or how, but you knew that he 100% believed it. And that made your situation even more despondent.
This evening, for the first time in 8 days, Jungkook finally left the house.  You had thought it might be a chance for you to look for an escape, but to your disappointment, he left one of his ‘employees’ with you.  You still can't pinpoint what he does exactly, but all of the people you have seen with Junkook have a similar dangerous vibe. This one is no exception. Tall, strong, large and mean-looking. It completely dashed your hopes of getting away.  That was until you heard the clear and threatening order Jungkook gave him.  For the second time, you were seeing this sweet kind young man have men double his age, who were larger and tougher looking than him, look weak and fearful. The exact wording slipped your mind, but the gist of it was if anything happens to you while he is gone, Jungkook will violently kill your guard.
After a few hours of stirring, half hesitant to try and half trying to perfect the idea, you finally decide you need to at least attempt a prison break.
Calling the guard, you drop to the bedroom floor, curling yourself tight, clutching your ribs. You knew your bruises were still purple and black there, so it would be the most convincing place to say you had pain.  After a few screams, the man dashes in his face draining at seeing you writhing on the floor in agony.
“What happened?” He barks.
“I fell. It hurts.” You wheeze, knowing it's best to keep your details simple to maintain the act.
He bends to help you up and you wail a faked cry of pain, applying your years of watching dramas into practice. You’re not sure how believable your act is, but the man is so swept up in the panic of the moment, it doesn’t really matter.  As he gets you onto the bed, you pull up your shirt slightly exposing your marks and bruises and it's the tipping point.  He goes from worried to frantic.
"Sh-" he whispers the exclamation under his breath. He looks to ponder his options, and you hope your theory is right and that he is too afraid to call Jungkook first. "Alright, you need to go to the hospital." He declares. You have to lean more into the pained acting to stop a smile from coming onto your face, thankful that your plan is so far working.
The guard picks you up bridal style and carries you downstairs with an urgent patter to his steps. Getting you into the back seat of the car, he rushes into the front and begins driving. Despite his craze, you're surprised to see him driving so steadily and rationally. Abiding the road rules and sticking to the speed limits.
You think your best, or only option would be to get some privacy with Doctor at the hospital and tell him everything. Beg him to call the police. The one risk for going to the hospital is the possibility of the guard not leaving you to talk to the Doctor.
"Fuck." The man hisses under his breath as his phone begins to ring.
The call connects to the cars Bluetooth as he answers, blasting Jungkooks voice in surround sound.
"I'm at home, but you're not. Where are you?" He questions with an ominous tone. The drivers head flicks back to you, his uncertainty flashing through his eyes as he decides what or how much of the truth to tell.
"She hurt herself. Her chest. So I am taking her to the hospital." He reveals everything with a shake in his voice.
Jungkook bursts into a sharp laugh, the sudden piercing of it through the speakers making both of you jump. "She's fine. Bring her back now."
You spring upright, eyes wide. The car rolls to a stop at the traffic light, the man's gaze meeting yours in the rear-view mirror. Jungkook knows! He knows you're faking it. He's going to hurt you again when you get back. You can't let him take you back.
The second the car stops, you don't pause to think, yanking on the door handle and throwing yourself out of the car. Because it is nearly midnight, the suburban area is desolate, but there are a few houses that still have lights on. You know your best option is one of those.
Breaking into a sprint you run across the main road over the island and towards the first house you can see any sign of life in. In a mad frenzy, you begin to pound on the door, calling and screaming for help, begging for them to open. Behind you, you can feel the guard quickly catching up and your pleading gets more desperate.
Giving you pure relief, the front door opens on a middle-aged man looking nearly as petrified as you. You don't wait to explain or discuss anything instead barge past him, hurling yourself through the open door. You spin on your heels, slamming the entrance closed. It doesn't shut though. The full body of the guard powers through the door colliding into you and the homeowner, knocking you both onto the ground in a painful blow.
With a heavy breath and a wild look in his eyes, he stalks over top of you, sealing you all in. The guard pulls a gun and his phone from his pocket, the call to Jungkook seeing to still be active. "Alright, I have h-" he speaks into the receiver, pointing the weapon at the man, rendering him frozen.
"Where are you?!" Jungkook yells, making the guard pull the phone from his ear. Even from a few meters away you can hear his hostile voice loudly and clearly.
For 10 minutes you are sat in the living room numb with fear. You could hear how furious Jungkook was. You can see how mad and nervous your guard is, and you can feel how confused and terrorised the older man is. Without movement, the three of you are stuck in a tense stare off, none able to speak.
On the 11th minute, there is a knock on the front door. The guard peers through the side window and his breath catches in his throat.
You start to physically shake as Jungkook comes in with two more men at his back, looking like an uneven, unsettling mix of calm and intense. Walking in with his hands in his pockets, he takes the size of all three people in the room.
"You left the car in the middle of the road?" He asks the guard, his gaze staying fixed on you.
"Yes. I had to chase her down." He tries to explain shortly.
"Ah," Junkook muses with a click of his tongue. "Get rid of it." He orders one of the other men who came in with him.
The guy nods, rushing to follow the instruction. As the door slams shut, Jungkook walks towards you squatting to your level. "Your ribs hurt Kitten?" he asks with a faked sweetness. He leans down digging his forefinger and thumb into your ribcage. It brings back the true pain of your injuries, making you squeal and writhe while trying to get away from him. His hand wraps around your side, keeping you in place and pushing you to the floor, crushing and gripping your wounds, bringing shortness to your breath and tears to your eyes.
After tormenting you for a few miserable minutes, Jungkook scoffs out a short laugh, standing back up nearly stepping on top of you. "Pick him up" He orders your guard, gesturing toward the homeowner on the floor behind you. He does so, having to hold a lot of the man's weight to get him to his feet. "Anyone else in the house?"
"No, I don't think so." The guard replies with uncertainty.
"Well you're not exactly reliable, are you?" Jungkook sneers.
You jump as two incredibly loud bangs echo out. One after the other, both the guard and the older man drop to the floor. Looking up at Jungkook horrified, he is standing over you holding a gun having just shot the two men. Your stomach is churning at the realization of what he just did. There is only a weak grunt and then silence from the older man, his body slumping still and lifeless. But from the other, there are continued struggled and gasped moans. Jungkook coolly walks to him, another shot firing and the pained sounds stop. Only silence and the pulsing ringing in your ears from the sudden blasts remain.
You're motionless. Panting broken breaths. Too in shock to move. Too scared to do anything. You can't believe this is happening. You're sure you're about to die.
"Go check the house." Jungkook kneels down beside you again, throwing the order to the second man that came with him.
With just the two of you left in the room, he comes closer, speaking lowly and gruffly in your ear. "See what you did Y/n." He motions to the side of you, to the murderous and violent display. You can't bring yourself to look. You know the sounds of those two men will haunt you for the rest of your life. You don't want to add the gruesome image of it as well. "Do want to play? You want to pretend to be in pain?" His hand roughly brushes the hair from off your face. He switches the gun from one hand to the other, his now free left hand digging tightly into your jaw, turning you to him. "Well, we're going home Kitten. And you won't need to pretend when I'm done with you."
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that makes four.
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PART 4
Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.
It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.
But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.
“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”
Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”
“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”
“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”
You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”
“What? Nothing.”
“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.
“She made a weird face when you said that.”
“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”
“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”
You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.
“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.
You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.
“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”
Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”
“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”
“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.
“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”
“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.
“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”
“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”
“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”
“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.
Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”
You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”
“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”
“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”
“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”
They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“Even if he’s younger than you.”
“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”
“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.
Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.
“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”
“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”
Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”
“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.
“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”
Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”
“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”
“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.
You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”
“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.
“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.
“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”
**
Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.
Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.
“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.
“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.
“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”
You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.
And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.
She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.
“Uncle Jeff?”
She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.
“Hi--are you here?”
“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”
“Oh god, Jeff, no!”
“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”
“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”
“Zoey?”
You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”
“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”
You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.
Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.
But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.
“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.
“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.
With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”
“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”
She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.
“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.
If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.
“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”
She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.
“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.
“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”
“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”
You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.
“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”
Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”
“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”
CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.
You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”
“What ledge?”
The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”
You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”
“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.
“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”
The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”
“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”
You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.
“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”
“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”
“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”
“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”
“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”
“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.
You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.
Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.
So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.
You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”
“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”
“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.
He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”
You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”
“I do?”
“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.
“I thought you were my friend?”
A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”
He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.
“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”
“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.
“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”
He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.
“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”
“Okay, I just didn’t know.”
“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”
“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”
“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”
“...I like it too.”
“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”
He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”
He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”
But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.
Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.
Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.
“How are things going?”
“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”
“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”
“Know what?”
“About you and Harry?”
“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”
“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”
You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.
You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.
Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.
“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.
“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.
“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.
You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”
He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.
“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.
“I don’t know--what do you mean?”
You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.
“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.
“Yeah, I mean, he is.”
“He also touched your back in a funny way.”
Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.
“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”
“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”
Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.
“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”
Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.
Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.
But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.
“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”
“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.
“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.
“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”
Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”
“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.
“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.
She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”
Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”
“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.
“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”
“You’re like, sometimes funny.”
“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.
CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”
“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”
Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”
“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”
Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.
If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.
After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.
They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.
You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.
“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”
“With who?”
“All of the girls from last weekend.”
“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”
“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”
“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”
You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.
You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.
“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”
Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.
“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.���
“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”
A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”
“Yes.”
You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”
She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.
“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.
“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”
She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”
He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”
You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.
“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”
Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.
“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”
“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”
He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”
Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.
“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”
He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”
“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.
There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”
Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”
“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”
“Absolutely.”
“So, you know, just--”
“Yeah.”
An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.
Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”
“No!”
“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”
“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.
Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”
Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”
You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.
Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?
You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.
Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.
Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”
“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”
He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”
“Of course.”
“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”
“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”
“Classic, really.”
You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”
“Well, we do know she likes you more.”
He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”
“Feels like that’s the same thing.”
Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.
“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”
“Oh, I tucked her in.”
Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”
“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”
“So you tucked her in?”
He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”
You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”
It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”
“I’m not that young.”
“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.
“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”
“No.”
He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.
“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”
“Why should I care how old you are?”
“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”
“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”
You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”
“I’m not,” you disagreed.
“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.
He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.
Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.
He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.
“What?” You asked playfully.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”
His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”
If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.
“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.
His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.
He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.
S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.
The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.
“Does Jeff want to kill me?”
“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”
“Should I not talk to him about it?”
You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?
You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.
You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.
It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!
You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.
“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”
“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.
He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.
“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”
“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”
You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”
“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.
She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.
You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.
When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.
“Be quiet!”
“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.
“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”
“How long do we have to sit like this?”
“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”
But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.
She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.
“I think you should go back to your room.”
“Really? After all of that?”
“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”
You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”
He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
**
Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.
You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.
You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”
“Oh, I know you live here.”
“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”
“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.
“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”
Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.
You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?
“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”
“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”
Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”
“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.
Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”
“Really?!” She beamed.
“No,” you shook your head.
“Of course you would say that.”
“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”
“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”
“I’m eleven now, though!”
“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”
She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”
“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.
He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.
“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”
“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”
“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”
“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”
“Are you sure?”
Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”
“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”
He laughed, “I can manage that.”
“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.
Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”
“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”
Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”
A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.
CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!
On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.
You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?
He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.
It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.
Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.
They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.
By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.
The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.
“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.
“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”
Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”
She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."
You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.
He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.
Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.
And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?
It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.
He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”
“You seem off.”
“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?
You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.
He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”
“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”
He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”
“Yeah,” you forced another smile.
“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”
“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.
The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.
Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”
You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”
“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.
“Why’s that?”
“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”
Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”
“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”
This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”
“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”
You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”
CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.
“Were they, like, hitting on you?”
“I mean, not really.”
“Not really?”
He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”
Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.
He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.
“Hey mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you like Harry?”
You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.
“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”
“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”
CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.
“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”
“You’re not answering my question.”
You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”
“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?
She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”
You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?
You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.
The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”
“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.
But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.
“Daddy!”
“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.
“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.
“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.
It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.
“How’ve you been?”
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lilliagradiewrites · 3 years
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evermore (jj maybank)
Summary: Y/N is in a depressive state, but refuses to tell her boyfriend. After she walks out on a party, JJ realizes that something is off, and rushes to comfort her.
*based off of the song “evermore” from Taylor Swift’s new album!!
WC: 2.2k
WARNINGS: Mentions of depression/ symptoms of depression, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mentions of suicide/ death. (The reader is at a very low point during this. Please proceed with caution of mentions of depression triggers you.)
A/N: Hey my lovelies! I have a new piece for you. This is a one- shot, and is on the shorter side. If you don’t know, Taylor Swift released a new album on the 11th. I have been so obsessed with it, and one of my favorites from the record is the title track “evermore.” I knew i had to write something based off of that song! This is inspired by that song, and I encourage you to listen to it while you read.
Much love to you all, and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!!
LET’S DO IT!
~~~~~~
The night was cold as you walked quietly down the street, the old cardigan your best friend gave you wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You weren’t dressed for the mid-october weather, your shorts and tank tops providing little warmth on your shivering body. As much as you hated the cold, it felt good to feel something again.
November was approaching quickly, and as you walked down the street that cold october night, you realized that you hadn’t had a true spark of happiness since that July. Of course, there were moments of joy, but it was never consistent, and lasted a day at the most.
You couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment where everything went wrong, no matter how many times you’d tried. Countless times, you’d retraced your footsteps to find the moment your despair began. Unfortunately, this only resulted in distant memories from better times becoming fresh in your mind, pushing you deeper into the dark hole you were trapped in.
For a while, no one noticed a difference. Your group of friends, whom you adored, didn’t bat an eye when you left a party early because you were ‘tired’ or ‘not in the mood’, despite the fact that you loved parties. It hurt a little that they didn’t see a problem, and that only made the problem worse.
The first person to notice was JJ, your loving boyfriend. The blonde boy was the light of your life, but as your own issues began to overtake you, you found yourself pushing him away unintentionally. He would send texts, asking you to come over and see him. He'd invite you to come out to dinner with the pogues at The Wreck. He’d beg for your permission to show up at your house because he missed you so damn much.
Time after time, you replied with perfectly crafted excuses that left him concerned, but with no questions. That’s all you needed to accomplish, really. If he didn’t ask any questions, then you’d be fine.
The routine was working out pretty well for you in the beginning. JJ and the rest of the group would accept your excuses and go along with what you told them, even if they found it slightly suspicious.
But, after a while, your constant absence finally hit them. It was concerning, especially when it came to someone like you. Your parents weren’t strict, so it wasn’t an obedience thing. You loved parties, and were quite social, so it wasn’t a social anxiety thing. They wondered at their hangouts what could be wrong, but none of them could come up with a viable explanation.
Texts from your friends were lighting up your phone at a constant rate, but you trained yourself to ignore them. Your mind had convinced you that all of them hated you, and were only messaging you as a joke, or because they felt bad.
Though your brain tried to tell itself that JJ didn’t love you either, you were fighting hard against that idea. Even the slightest notion of your boyfriend no longer being interested in you broke you down into tears, so you tried to allow the thought to cross your mind as little as possible.
He texted you every day, asking if you were okay and trying to make plans. He texted you good morning, and goodnight, as well as a few other times throughout the day. He was a wonderful boyfriend, and you appreciated him, but you didn’t have the energy to show him the attention he deserved. You texted back for a while, but eventually gave up, leaving him on read almost every single time.
For the last few weeks, JJ had been broken up with worry. He worried that you were mad at him, that you hated him. He worried that you were leaving him. So, he showed up at your house.
As soon as he walked in your room, he could tell that something was incredibly off. You were normally a somewhat neat person, but your room was in complete disarray. Clothes littered the floor, empty plates and half-eaten bags of chips tossed absentmindedly to various locations.
And you. You looked like you hadn’t changed or bathed in weeks. Your hair was messy, and your face looked as if you’d been crying for years.
When you saw his face, your mask slipped on without a second thought.
“JJ! Hi, babes!”
“Hi, angel.” He replied, concern evident in his voice as he spoke. “I haven’t really seen you in forever. Are you okay?”
You nodded immediately, concealing your true feelings. “I’m okay. I’ve been taking up extra shifts at work because I need money for college soon. I’m trying to save up early. I’ve been so busy and exhausted, I just haven’t had the time or energy to see anybody.”
Lie. You got fired from your job a month ago because you called out ‘sick’ too many times.
JJ was still suspicious, but went accepted your story just as he had many times before.
“Alright, babe. I just miss you a lot. Take a break soon. Are you working tonight?”
“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him again.
“Well, then, you’re coming to hang out.”
You shook your head quickly, pulling your hands away from his. “No thanks, JJ. I had a late shift last night and I’m exhausted. Plus, I have an early shift tomorrow morning, and I refuse to go in hungover.”
JJ took your hands back into his, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to stay late, and you don’t have to drink. Just come for a little bit. Like, literally for an hour. We all just miss you so much.”
When he was looking into your eyes like that, you couldn’t help but say yes. Though you knew you’d come to regret it, the smile on his face after you agreed made it all seem worth it at the time.
“Yes! Okay, my love, I have to go deliver some stuff for Pope’s dad. The party starts at ten, so I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”
You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to indicate that you’d heard him and understood what he said.
“Bye, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper, but it seemed to be enough for JJ. He gave you one final wave before exiting your bedroom and closing the door in his wake.
When he had gone, your anxiety began to cover you. You had come to hate gatherings and parties, despite the fact that they used to be your main source of happiness and excitement. How were you going to make it through this party?
Sighing, you turned to your bedside table, moving around empty cups to peer at the time on your alarm clock. It was hard to read due to the tears in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. After a moment, you were able to decipher the numbers on the screen. 8:06 PM. You had approximately an hour and half to get ready before your boyfriend would be there to pick you up.
The first half hour, you decided, would be used for praying you were able to make it through this night.
---
About 70 minutes after your boyfriend’s visit, the clock on your bedside table read 9:12 PM. You sat at your vanity, brushing on small amounts of makeup. You didn’t want anything too crazy like you used to do; it just didn’t feel right anymore.
The same thing applied to your outfit. After almost an hour of trying things on, you went for something simple. A sage green tank top, your favorite blue jean shorts, and a basic oversized white cardigan kie had given you. The outfit was basic, but cute nonetheless. You completed the look with your pair of slip-on vans that were so beat up they could barely be classified as white anymore.
Your hair, which you normally would curl or style for parties, had been brushed through and left down. That was all you had the energy for. The party hadn’t even started yet, and you were already exhausted.
At least you had showered. It had been over a week since you last bathed, and this party gave you incentive to take care of yourself. That’s the only thing you were grateful for when it came to this party.
As you finished getting ready, you promised yourself that you would try your best to enjoy the night.
JJ had come to pick you up as he told you he would, at nine-thirty on the dot. He was always careful to be very punctual when it comes to you. He said you looked pretty when you got in his car, and the small compliment warmed your heart significantly.
The party was smaller than your normal ones. The pogues were all there, and they were all happy to finally see you again. You greeted them kindly and took your seat beside JJ, wanting to make the night go by as quickly as possible. You had hardly even arrived and you were already anxious.
As the night went by, your anxiety only got worse. You began to zone out, not paying attention to the conversation. You snapped back to reality when the whole group laughed at some joke someone told, and you just chuckled nervously along, hoping nobody noticed you weren’t being attentive.
A few hours went by, slowly but surely, and you decided that you had to be done for the night. You had been on the brink of a panic attack for the last hour, and it was getting harder to fight it off.
“Alright, guys, I’m tired. I’m probably gonna head home. I’ll see y’all later.” You announced, standing up from your seat. Immediately, JJ stood up with you, leaning into your ear.
“I’m too drunk to drive, babe. Do you think you can wait a little longer for me to sober up?”
You shook your head lightly, pushing him away. “No, it’s ok, babes. I’m just gonna walk. I don’t want to pull you away from the party anyways.”
A look of concern took over the blonde’s face. “I don’t like that. You can’t walk by yourself at night, it’s not safe.”
“I’ll be fine, J.” You assured him. “I live, like, a five minute walk away from here. We’re super close to my house. It’ll be okay.”
JJ continued to insist that you wait, but you insisted on leaving. You reassured him multiple times that you’d be alright, kissed him, grabbed your cardigan and left.
That’s how you ended up in your current position, sobbing into your cardigan sleeve as the night grew colder and colder. You were still walking along the road to your house.
You hadn’t realized how cold it was when you left. Maybe it’s because you;d been sitting up against JJ, his body heat mixing with yours to help keep the both of you warm. Now, you were all alone, with nothing but your thin cardigan to protect you from the chill of october night.
As you walked, and cried, you wondered what it would be like to just stop breathing.
Your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Immediately, you tensed up, suddenly scared. Who was running on the streets late at night, besides her? Who had a reason, other than kidnapping or killing someone?
You turned slowly around, and your body relaxed as you realized you recognized the person barreling towards you.
A familiar blonde boy was running in your direction, seemingly desperate to catch up with you. You stopped walking, giving him time to meet you.
“JJ?” You were talking as soon as he was close enough to hear. “What are you doing, babe? You’re supposed to be at the party.”
“I’m walking you home. I’ll go back once I know you’re safe.” He explained. He looked almost triumphant at the fact that he’d caught up with you, but his expression changed to one of concern after he got a good look at your face.
“Y/N… have you been crying?”
You shook your head, almost in instinct, but he saw right through you.
“Yes, you have. Baby, what’s wrong? Did one of us say something? What happened?”
As you looked in his eyes, those beautiful blue orbs as rocky and deep as the ocean, you felt your mask begin to slip.
“I’m not okay, J. I haven’t been for a long time.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears came almost immediately after you’d finished.
JJ took you into his arms and held you close, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there on the side of the road.
JJ let you sob for a little while, just holding you and murmuring sweet words to you. Eventually, he pulled away and looked directly into your eyes.
“I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this, my love. I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise. I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much.”
He pulled you back into his chest, and in that moment, it dawned on you.
This wasn’t the end. This pain wouldn’t last for evermore. It would pass, and JJ would be there with you when it did.
So, for the first time in a while, you finally felt okay.
~~~~
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are super helpful and super appreciated. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!
Happy holidays! - Lillia
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