#which i've been actively trying to avoid doing because when i left my old school i overdid it and i was actively mourning leaving my place

[madamescarlette]

You ever have to be like, "no babe you're not bone-breakingly heart-rendingly sad, you just had less than five hours of sleep"? Yeah.

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

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[poguestvff]

LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

[evolving-dreamer]

You rarely do ask games so 3, 12, 26, 31, 38 & 75:)

3: random bookmarks: hairbrush, glasses, the latest flower I've picked and pressed, incense sticks.💐🌟🦋

12: Favorite planet: Astronomically speaking, and in this galaxy, Neptune. Have you seen how blue and cloudy it is? And it rains diamonds over there. Yeah, a 10/10. 🤩

Astrologically speaking, bc I'm into it, Venus and Uranus. I love them.

26: Favorite shoes: Actually I recently had to throw them out, bc my puppy thought they were his toys and ended them. They were these simple wine coloured slip-ons that I really loved and that my aunts were tired of bc I was always wearing them😂😂

31: ok let's talk about socks. I love them, yet I've never had a good relationship with them.

During my middle school years I had to wear knee high white socks, it was mandatory. It was awful. I hate long socks bc of that. (@pixlokita don't you hate them too??)

Then, for a couple of years it was just white socks. I don't hate them in general, but I know how hard it can be to maintain them white, as I enjoy walking around the house in socks (or barefoot)

As I've never been able to keep track of my socks in the long-term, a couple of years ago I decided my socks (all of them ankle-lenght) would stick to color scheme so I'd be able to mix them up. Can you guess which color I avoided and which color was easier to maintain?

Yup, I live in the black socks paradise. With pink dots/lines to identify them. And I'm pro mixing socks (but it doesn't get too crazy, as they're similar)

The pink lines/dots are to id them, because whenever my cousins are around, they actually don't mind taking other people's socks. You and I may say "ew" they just say "Idk where I left my socks, and these were in the dryer".

On the other hand, and circling back to my puppy, he has chewed on many of my socks, stolen and lost some of them, and pretty much made my socks drawer emptier. We don't know what he does with them or where is his secret lair. I'll get more black socks soon😂😂

38. Pet peeves: people trying to see what I'm doing all the time. If I have something to announce or share, trust me, I'll do it in its own time.

I think this one took more prominence during this past year, as my family was checking on me and coming to my room all the time, and dude, I'm just reading, or studying, or doing a diy, or videocalling a friend, or some yoga. I'm being active in my own way... but I don't like people trying to snoop and see what I've done/haven't done with my time.

75: another question about my pets?? Timothée is the center of attention today!😂

He's my 10-months-old puppy, he loves to chew on everything, especially if it's something he shouldn't be chewing on, and he loves to bark at every bike, cat, and dog passing by our home.

Sometimes he bites me, but he also protects and barks at weird people when we're walking around the park, so I'm really hoping that if someday it comes to it, I can unleash him upon my opponents.

Just look at him. Beautiful.

@brainlessfruit dear Bell, you know why I don't usually do these ask games? Because I write too much. That's why. I actually wanted to answer just one question, the very first one, and you didn't ask it😂😂

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

the last great american dynasty

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 4658

Warnings: maybe some swearing (don’t really remember), mentions of deaths, sadness, loneliness.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 17

Year: 2012

Location: Brooklyn, NY

The last few months haven't been the greatest for Elizabeth.

She never did get to run for Student Body President during the months of October and November. Steve ended up running and winning. Elizabeth had even decided to leave student body council once campaigning started. She found no point in staying, everyone in the club didn't like her.

She had kept to herself. She no longer felt the need to make new friendships or continue the ones she had. The rumors made sure of that.

This was not how Elizabeth had thought her senior year would be. She thought she'd be crossing out he dates in her calendar feeling sad with each passing day, but now she's counting down to when she will never see these faces again.

She had also been approached by the principle right before school was dismissed for Holiday break. Principle Alvarez had told Elizabeth that she was the front runner for valedictorian. Elizabeth politely declined the offer, but Principle Alvarez told her to take the next three week holiday to think over it.

Elizabeth promised she would, but that was a lie. There was no way she would go in front of her classmates and give them a fake speech on comradery. 

These people wouldn't know the first thing about that.

Instead she focused on anything besides school.

Her parents weren't oblivious to Elizabeth's sudden change in personality. At first they thought it was because of her breakup with Bucky. But Elizabeth had told them it was a mutual decision. They wanted to believe her, but they knew their daughter. They knew it was not what she had said.

They knew something must've happened, especially with the way Bucky has been actively avoiding running into them. Even going as far as running inside whenever he saw Mr. Sanchez get home from work.

Even Steve stopped coming around. That was another red flag.

Then they had found out from Sarah Rogers, Steve's mom, that Steve would be running for student body president, after Elizabeth stepped down and left the club.

They were shocked to hear the news.

How could she not tell them. Her parents had debated back and forth whether or not they should have a conversation with her.

She had been keeping this a secret for months. Whenever they would bring it up, she told them it was in the works. But she had lied. There was clearly something bigger going on.

They then received a phone call from Principle Alvarez the day before winter break started. She told them about Elizabeth becoming valedictorian but turning it down. Another secret her parents had heard nothing about.

"Mrs. Alvarez, we had no idea," Caterina, her mother, said.

"I figured which is why I called. I told Elizabeth to take the break think it over."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Alvarez," Brandon, her father, thanked, "Actually we were just discussing Elizabeth and her sudden personality change. Do you have any idea what might have happened?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "I'm assuming you both know about her breakup with James."

"Yes, but she told us it was a mutual decision, somehow we don't think she's telling he truth," Caterina explained.

"I suppose she isn't. Unfortunately, I don't think it's my place to say. Her grades are not falling behind, she hasn't done anything that would create a cause for concern," she half lied.

"But she quit student council. She isn't even talking to Steve," Caterina explained, slightly frustrated with the situation.

"Yes, well," Principal Alvarez pauses, "There was some rumors going around at the beginning of the year, surrounding James and Elizabeth. Sadly those rumors favored James."

"Why are we just hearing about this now?" her father asked.

"I have spoken to Elizabeth, she had asked me not to say anything to you. In order to keep this a safe place for her and other students, there's some things that need to stay confidential.

"I didn't sense any danger and the rumors died down. Yes, she did quit student council, but you wouldn't be surprised by the amount of students who leave a club senior year." she explained to them.

"We have had no idea any of this was happening," Caterina, sighs softly, her eyes getting teary. Her husband softly rubs her back.

"What do you suggest we do? Should we confront Elizabeth about all these lies?" Brandon asks.

"I think Elizabeth is trying to protect you guys and herself. I can't tell you what to do. This is your child. But I can offer some advice," she says, "Give her some time. When it comes, I'm sure she'll open up, it might not be now, but it will be when she is ready. I've seen this a lot with seniors who get thrown a massive curve ball and it just throws them all off.

"It's what I like to call their first taste of the real world. How they get through it shows how they will handle these kind of stressors in the future. Some just go right off the handle and turn to some bad things to cope. Some repress their feelings, and let it all boil until they have some sort of snap. Some, learn and grow from it. Those that learn and grow, take it quietly, figure out what's to come afterwards. They stop worrying about what's happening now, and are ready to move on. The reason I haven't reached out is because I can see how Elizabeth is handling it. Yes, maybe she has changed, grown up a bit, but I still haven't gotten any major danger signs from her that say she isn't handling this in an unhealthy manner.

"Elizabeth has been meeting with our guidance counselor, about once a week. And that was something she had chosen to do on her own. We aren't necessarily obligated to tell parents that because of  confidentiality reasons. If there was any cause for concerns you would've heard by now."

"So we should just wait?"

"Yes," she sighs, "I know it's probably not what you wanted to hear, but just know you have a wonderful daughter, who seems to know how to take care of herself in a healthy mature manner."

The conversation they had with Principal Alvarez brought some peace to their minds. Not completely, but enough to know that if Elizabeth really was in trouble she would go to them.

They had decided that it was probably best to get away for the winter break. Brandon and Caterina were able to work remotely during the holiday season, so they decided to take a trip to the family's cabin.

Elizabeth was excited to head to the cabin for the holidays. It meant that she wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone from school. And any reason to spend more time with her grandmother was exciting. Especially since she would be heading off to college soon.

Elizabeth had decided that Christmas to break the news to her parents that she had decided on the University of Stanford. She would be going as a Pre-Law student. The school was on the other side of the country. When she and her parents visited this past  summer, Elizabeth fell in love with the campus. 

Her last two choices were Stanford and Columbia.

With some talking to her guidance counselor and some major thought, she decided she desperately needed a change in scenery. A change in people.

For the first time since returning home, she had never felt more free. She was excited about the possibility of the future. She could no longer worry about what the hell was happening in Brooklyn.

Her parents were excited to hear about her choice. They were glad that she wasn't keeping this from them. They had decided that Principal Alvarez was right, Elizabeth was becoming such a strong woman in front of their eyes, and they had to trust that she knows what's best for herself.

Elizabeth and her grandma stayed that third week of break, while her parents were sent away by her grandma so she could have some quality time with her only granddaughter.

Elizabeth and her grandmother were currently sat in the living room going through some old photos. Elizabeth was helping her grandmother put them in some new photo albums she had gotten for Christmas.

"So, any new boy in your life?" her grandma, Sophia, asked.

"No, I'm done with high school boys," Elizabeth said, carefully going through the old photos.

"Good, high school boys are nothing but trouble."

"You're preaching to the choir," Elizabeth joked.

While grabbing another small box of photos, Elizabeth opened it up to reveal some very old letters and photos.

"What are these grandma?" she asked softly turning the box over for her grandma to see.

"Oh, I've been wondering where those went," she softly smiled, going over to sit next to Elizabeth on the couch.

Elizabeth handed her the box, and she pulled out a light yellowish envelope, the color from old age.

"Who are those from?"

"My old friend Rebekah," she said looking over at the letter.

"Rebekah? You've never told me about a Rebekah before.

"Well she was an old friend," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a black and white photo of two young girls. One was her grandma and the blonde next to her must've been Rebekah. The photo was dated 1965.

"How did you guys meet?" Elizabeth asked.

"In junior high, we were both 12," her grandma handed her a photo dated 1960, it was of two even younger versions of the young teens.

"Oh, wow."

"From 12 to 21 we were inseparable."

"Woah, what's this?" Elizabeth asked, showing her grandma a photo of a quickie style wedding.

"Ah, that was Bex's first wedding."

"First?"

"Yup. Right out of high school, freshly 18. Adam Grant. Bex's high school sweetheart. Prom King and Queen."

"What happened?"

"Young love doesn't always last forever. Why do you think I was always so insistent with you not to worry about marriage until after you've graduated college and started your career."

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "Just thought you thought I was too young, and you were right."

"Aren't I always," she winked playfully.

"What happened between them?"

"Adam wanted Rebekah to be a stay at home wife, to start popping out babies. That wasn't Bex at all. Bex was always the life of the party. She was a social butterfly, but she had dreams of making it to Broadway. Adam was set to take over his dad's mechanic shop.

"The marriage had only lasted a year, before they pulled the plug. After the divorce, Bex started to go on more auditions, while she waitressed part time, and once a month she would sing at a lounge in Manhattan. Now when I say she could sing, I mean she could sing. I believe she really could have made it," her grandma reminisces.

"What happened?"

"Bill happened," her grandma said, handing Elizabeth a photo of a man who appeared to be in his late 40s early 50s.

"Who's he?"

"Bill Carter. The richest man I have ever met. His family had oil money. He and his colleagues were in attendance at the lounge on one of the night's Bex was singing.

"From what Bex told me it was love at first sight. After that night Bex couldn't talk about anything but Bill. They were both so smitten over each other. I don't think I've ever seen Rebekah act like that. She started to clean herself up a little bit, to try and appease his family. But Bill loved her just the way she was when he met her."

"They were engaged two months later. This was both of their second marriages. Bill's parents desperately wanted him to have a prenup, but he was completely against it. He said that unlike his first marriage he knew this was the one. Plus Rebekah didn't care about all of that. She had had many opportunities to make some heavy cash by being a few married men's mistress, but that's not what mattered to her."

Elizabeth glanced down at the photo. It was a photo of the bride and groom surrounded by their friends, all of them have drinks and cigars in their hands, with big smiles on their faces.

Rebekah's hair was a everywhere, doesn't look like she bothered to comb it for the big day. Bill's tie was undone, along with his shirt being halfway unbutton, no suit jacket in sight.  Her lips were dark in the black and white photo, which meant she probably was wearing a darker lip, judging by the lipstick marks on Bill's lips, cheek, and neck.

"Was this at the end of the night?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, this was just after the ceremony," her grandmother smiled, "Bex and Bill started the party after they said I do."

"The limo we all rode in together were filled with laughs, drinks, and cigars," she laughed.

"You guys knew how to party," Elizabeth smiled at her grandmother.

"Hey it was the late 60's," she shrugged her shoulders, handing Elizabeth another photo from the wedding.

"This looks small," Elizabeth remarked.

"Yeah, Bill's parents decided they weren't going to pay for the wedding when Bill refused to have Rebekah sign a prenup," she said, "So Bill and Bex decided to have a small wedding. Free of judgment. Just those that loved and supported them."

"That's nice," Elizabeth smiled at the thought of a small intimate wedding.

Elizabeth had never really given much though of how her wedding would be. I mean she and Bucky used to talk about getting married, but that was it. No plans were every truly made. Elizabeth also never truly saw herself as a big ballgown type of gal.

All that had mattered was her and Bucky. Now that's no more.

She felt her eyes get a little teary, she cleared her throat.

"So where did they go to after?"

"Rhode Island."

"Rhode Island?" Elizabeth looked at her grandmother, "Why Rhode Island?"

"They took a trip out there when they were dating, and fell in love with it. Plus Bex has always wanted to live on the sea. She said it made her feel free."

"Did his parents ever accept their marriage?"

"Sadly no," her grandma said, "Especially not after Bill's doctor told him to settle down with the party."

"Did he get sick?"

"Yes, around year 7 of their marriage, his doctor told him if he continued down this path he wouldn't live a long life."

"What did he do?"

"Bill told him he'd rather live the rest of his short life filled with happiness then become a boring old man who lived forever."

"Did he die?"

"Yes he did. He lived another three years, he and Bex were able to spend their ten year anniversary before he passed a week later. The summer of 1979."

"A week later?" Elizabeth asked shocked.

"Yeah," her grandmother sadly remembers.

"Rebekah was never the same after that," her grandmother says, "She never fully recovered from Bill's death."

"Did they have any kids?"

"Not together. Bill had two kids from his first marriage, but the kids only cared about their inheritance, that they never got."

"What?"

"Turns out Bill had changed his will when the doctor had first told him to slow down. He left everything to Rebekah," her grandma says, "That did not help Rebekah after his death either,

"Rebekah wasn't a heartless person, she made sure his children were taken care of, she created a fund for both kids. She never wanted Bill to do that, she didn't even know until the will reading two days after his funeral. All Bex wanted was her Bill. She would've given up all that money just for him."

"That's so sad," Elizabeth commented.

"Very. Even though Bex acted like none of the rumors bothered her, it did. Because that town was painting her to be this horrible woman. Calling her the most shameless woman they had ever seen, saying she enjoyed ruining everything. So she gave them what they wanted. She gave them the most shameless woman they would ever see. From what I had heard the partying got worse. She had parties every day, the house was filled with people from the city. She even got in a feud with one of their neighbors and stole his dog and dyed it green."

"What do you mean 'from what you heard'?" Elizabeth asked confused.

"Well, Rebekah and I weren't close anymore. The last time I had seen Rebekah was the week of Bill's funeral. Before then we hadn’t seen each other in almost 8 years.”

"What happened?"

"Well after I graduated in 1970, your grandpa and I decided to get married and settle down in Brooklyn," her grandma said, handing her a photo of their wedding day, "We were done with the whole party scene. We were ready to begin our own lives. Grandpa and I had already had good jobs lined up. We were ready to be adults. We were ready to start our family.

“Rebekah never understood that. She claimed ‘kids ruined everything’. She and Bill were living this extraordinary life. Kids didn’t fit the picture.”

“What about his kids?”

“They’d visit once per season. Their mother didn’t think that lifestyle was for them, and Bill never fought it,” she told Elizabeth, “And after I had your Uncle Eric in 1972, Rebekah couldn’t put her own feelings for children aside. It put a strain on our friendship, causing me to realize that I couldn’t be her friend if she couldn’t support what made me happy.

“I had supported Rebekah in every aspect of her life. When she wanted to marry Adam right out of high school, I supported her, hell I drove them. When she wanted to divorce Adam, I was there to hold her while she grieved her first failed marriage. She wanted to become a Broadway star, I was right there cheering and supporting her. When she met Bill, and everyone was against their relationship, I was their only support. When they decided to get engaged and married only 5 months after meeting each other, I was there, every step of the way. Did I have time? No, I was busy with school, but I made time.

“I was there for everything. I supported her through everything. But when I was ready to begin my own life, Rebekah couldn’t be there,” her Grandma sighs, “It made me question everything about our friendship.”

“It wasn’t until Bill’s funeral that I fully realized, she was just scared of being alone,” she says, “His funeral was filled with people. But not one of them was there for her.”

“How sad.”

“Rebekah and I finally talked that night,” her grandma says, “She told me all about the nonstop adventures she and Bill had.”

“Did you guys makeup?”

“Yes and no,” she says, “Rebekah was still against kids. She apologized for what she had said, but at that point I had already had three kids. We knew that our friendship would never be the same. We knew that the only way we could be in each other’s lives was if we kept our distance. If any one of us needed each other we knew we could call. But sometimes people come into your life only to be a small part of it. They don’t stay forever, but they make an everlasting impact.”

“Do you know what ended up happening to her?”

“She died, 9 years after Bill’s death. She was only 40 years-old,” she tells Elizabeth with a glimmer in her eye, “She died alone. While on vacation in Italy.”

“I’m sorry Grandma,” Elizabeth sympathetically says, she places her hand softly on top of her grandmother’s.

“It’s okay sweetie, time has come and gone. We all have to go through it someday.”

“What happened to that big house of her’s?”

“It’s still there. It never sold.”

“Why?”

“People claim it’s cursed,” she says, “so now it sits empty on that hill in Rhode Island.”

“They claim a crazy woman lived there, that anyone that were to live there would end up in the same fate as she,” her grandma says, “She wasn’t crazy. She was heartbroken. That whole town exiled her. Blamed her for everything. Made her out to be someone she wasn’t.”

“I get the feeling,” Elizabeth mumbled, looking down at her hands.

“She wasn’t crazy. She was a woman who lost the love of her life. She traveled the world to find anything to fill that void in her heart, and she never did. So she made sure to give that town everything she had.

“She was a very scorn woman. Filled with hatred, and anger to those that did her wrong,” her grandma says, clutching Elizabeth’s hands, forcing her to look into her eyes, “I don’t want you becoming like that Elizabeth.”

“I know whatever is going on in school, is not the easiest. But please, don’t let your heart be filled with so much hatred. I don’t want you becoming like Rebekah. She never learned to forgive.”

“It’s hard to forgive,” Elizabeth sniffled.

“I know, but it’s even harder to carry around so much darkness in your life,” she explains, “You should be able to go to college with nothing weighing you down. Not having anything negative reminding you of back home. You shouldn’t dread going back home, you should be filled with joy. Don’t exile those around you, just because they haven’t figured out that part of their lives.”

“Don’t let these last few moments of your high school life be filled with what those kids are saying,” she squeezes Elizabeth’s hands, “You know who you are. Those closest to you truly know who you are. We love you and support you. And are so incredibly proud of the woman you have become.”

“So please find it in yourself to forgive,” her grandma pleads.

“It’s hard being the bigger person,” Elizabeth sniffles again, silent tears streaming down her face, “they hurt me so much.”

“I know sweetie,” she pulls Elizabeth into her arms, “But let them regret what they have done. Don’t let them win by seeing you become this mad woman. Let them look back in their life, regretting the way they treated you.”

————————

Once Elizabeth went back home, the weekend before she was due to return to school from winter break. She had a lot to think about.

Does she listen to her grandma and forgive everyone for everything they’ve done. Or does she continue down the path she started on months ago.

She had to admit to herself, the path she was on was lonely. She didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t like what they made her become.

She decided to take her grandma’s words, and promised that once she returned to school on Monday, she would go back to being who she was. Not entirely, but at least not filled with so much hatred. She had to move on. For her own soul.

The first step, forgiving Bucky.

She knew that that was the only way to start. She wasn’t ready to talk to him in person, she’s not sure if she ever will be. So she sat at her desk and wrote him a letter:

Dear James,

(Yes, I called you James). I don’t know how to begin this. My grandmother told me I should forgive those that hurt me. You know my grandma, filled with nothing but wisdom. She told me a story about a friend she had, one that let the rumors consume her with hatred. She died alone.

I don’t want to be that person.

I know you don’t believe me to be that person, even after the things I’ve said to you.

But, I do feel myself becoming that person. Hating everyone around me, aside from my own family. (They still have no idea what’s going on with me)

So my first step in letting go, is forgiving you.

Letting all the pain and hate you’ve caused on me go...

I forgive you James.

I forgive you for everything you’ve done.

I don’t think I’ll fully understand why you cheated on me.

I know that’s not who you truly are. So I hope, that whatever you’re going through you come out on the other side.

This is harder than I thought it would be...

I loved you so much. I really thought we would end up together. Maybe that was just a childish thought.

Does anyone even make it out alive with their high school sweetheart?

But I want to thank you. For being my first love.

We were best friends to begin with, so falling in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Being in love with you was the easiest thing I’ve done.

It was just so effortless. And now I’m starting to wonder if that’s not how love is supposed to be...

But thank-you, for loving me the best that you could. You might not think it was the best, but it was.

You’re a part of my life forever. Even if you’re not physically a part of it.

You, James Buchanan Barnes, have left a forever imprint in my life.

So for that I want to thank you and forgive you.

I will always remember you as the 7 year-old boy who taught me how to ride my bike.

-Elizabeth “Betty” Sanchez.

Elizabeth walked across the street and placed the sealed letter in the Barnes’ mailbox.

As she walked back to her house, she felt this heavy weight lifted off her shoulder.

Come that Monday morning she was going to accept, Principal Alvarez’s valedictorian offer. She was also going to talk to the student council and see if there was anyway for her to rejoin student body. She was also going to apologize to Steve. He was just an innocent bystander that got caught in the crossfire. She couldn’t blame him for standing by his best friend’s side.

Monday, her life will officially be going down a different path. One filled with less hatred, and more understanding and forgiveness.

————————-

Age: 35

Year: 2029

Location: Rhode Island

“We haven’t had any interested buyers in decades,” the relator tells the happy couple, “Because of that, the house is basically a steal. The family that owns it just wants it out of their possession.”

“Now, it is a bit of a fixer upper, since no one has lived here since the late 80s. But that shouldn’t be any issue for you since you’re married to the youngest recipient of the Pritzker Architecture Prize.”

The couple shares a brief smile with each other.

“But if I might ask, no one has every showed interest in this house, especially not a young family like yours. Why do you want to buy this house?”

“I think this house has been empty long enough. It’s time someone filled this house with lots of love and happiness. Like before,” Elizabeth smiled, small crows feet forming around her eyes.

“Well what better way then a family like yours,” the relator smiled, “There’s plenty of space for lots of kids.”

“This one is out last,” Steve smiled, putting his arm around Elizabeth, placing his hand on her growing belly.

“Three is enough for us,” She playfully poked Steve’s side.

They followed the relator to the back where two young children are running around playing.

“So what do you think?” Elizabeth whispered to Steve, looking up into his eyes.

“It’s definitely a fixer upper, but I love it,” he smiles, “Like I said before, wherever you go. I’m there.”

Elizabeth presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“Diane,” she calls out to the older relator who is running around with mini-me’s of Elizabeth and Steve.

“We’ll take it,” she smiles broadly.

[sheresh0y]

Mar'eyce Introduces:

Ro Donetta-Awaud: He/Him, 30-ish

Along with his family:

Dagon Donetta-Awaud: He/Him, 28-ish

Tann Donetta-Awaud: 11-ish

Kato Donetta-Awaud: 5-ish

Ellis Donetta-Awaud: 5-ish

A/N: I decided to go balls to the wall with the rest of these characters. So much backstory. All of it. I'm dumping it right here. Drabbles will added, moodboards whenever the fancy strikes. The rest of Arumorut has had their stories told at this point in the story so, fuck it, whatever. I love these OCs too much and I'm screaming it from rooftops, baby. I know suck at writing children and these Awaud children are definitely come across as way too old but go with me on this. I also left the children's pronouns empty because I'm not entirely sure what they're all trying to tell me yet. I'll update it when they let me know.

Warnings: This fic and AU is 18+ for a reason. Mentions of parental death, swearing, slavery and unwanted children mentions. Ro's a little sad boy under all that armor.

Read from the beginning: Mar'eyce Masterlist

Ro Doneeta was born to Volya and Rol Doneeta, Twi'lek freedom fighters turned Rebels. When Ro had turned four, his parents went a on a routine trip for supplies and never came home. He was adopted shortly after by Kai and Ilyah, a quickly and quietly whispered pact made by the only two parents in their corner of The Rebellion after one too many close calls.

"Take care of them, for us. Please."

The Awauds openly encouraged Ro to participate in Twi'lek culture. Just because he was a Mandalorian now didn't mean he stopped being a Twi'lek as well. The entire clan learned Ryl and Kai and Ilyah found mentors for him to teach him the things they couldn't. They were never sure if they did right by their son, but they tried their best.

After the Awauds retired from the war and were sent back to Arumorut, when Ro and Kaiyah were sixteen, Ro threw himself into the deep end of medicine. It wasn’t humble in the way that Ba’buir was, he didn’t want to train the clan in first aid or help children with their sniffles. Ro had lost so much to the galaxy and this was his fuck you.

First, his ryma and kora, then his lek, now his buir. Kai’buir was physically there, but mentally, emotionally they were nowhere to be found. It was like he had died without dying. Ro decided he was going to fix it all, no one in his family was dying again. Nobody was getting left behind. For everything the galaxy took from Ro, he was going to drag back to this life with his bare hands.

After a few months of shadowing Ba'buir Nejaa, Ro was decided to pursue medical school on Naboo. It was a relatively peaceful planet, since tourism was most of the economy they were malleable to whoever was in charge. This meant that Ro couldn't just walk around anywhere. The Empire was still standing and he was a Mandalorian who may or may not be wanted.

Ba'buir Nejaa said no immediately. Their reasoning was the armor. Armor was important, every Mandalorian wore it all the time. The only reason Nejaa didn't anymore was because Kaiyah needed a new set and they had gifted their set to her. Ro didn't have this exception so he tried a compromise: he would wear the chest plate under his clothes. The plate was the biggest piece of armor he had and helped the most with regulating his temperature anyway. It wasn't comfortable but it was the best he could come up with.

About four years into his medical education, Ro met Dagon through some mutual friends. It was terror at first sight, the poor Zabrak man was missing nearly all of his right ear and Ro knew it was his fault. His stupid plan to fight an Aryx head-on had consequences he didn't full think of at the time.

Try as he might to avoid Dagon, it didn't matter. It was like the up and coming designer was everywhere, Dagon seemed to have his own gravity and Ro was quickly pulled in.

It didn't take long for them to fall in love, by the third official date Dagon was asking Ro to move in and by the fifth they were married. For his part, Dagon took everything Mandalorian related in stride. He barely blinked when Ro explained soulmates and the reasons they were both all scarred up on the first date. He just asked if 'his Mandalorian' had anyone to take care of him.

When Ro graduated school, not quiet a doctor but close enough, the couple had a long talk about the future. They both knew they wanted kids but The Empire was still looming. It wasn't safe for Mandalorians to be openly walking around and they were both faced with the thought it might never be. Dagon understood that his children would be raised Mandalorian. It was close to the way Zabraki culture was. Clans, fighting, it made sense for the most part. Even though he had parted he had parted ways with his family, Dagon knew Ro couldn't do that.

He had been officially introduced to most of the Awaud clan when Ro had graduated, Dagon threw a little get together in honor of his riduur and the only people on Ro's must invite list was his family. They had a bond that went closer than blood and Dagon knew his clan of two needed to do.

He moved the clan of two back to Arumorut, using the ship that Nejaa and Kaiyah brought to move the stuff that Dagon couldn't or wouldn't sell, Ro never seemed to hold on to much.

Ro was furious, initially. Dagon had plans, big plans, to be a designer and he was right at the cusp of finally getting his own line. Moving back to Arumorut would be a step back for his career or end it entirely. In Ro's mind, he could at least play security while Dagon chased his dreams and then they could settle down wherever. It didn't matter to Ro as long as he got to see his family regularly, somewhere Mid or Outer Rim, he didn't want to be too far in case of an emergency.

The move ended up being the best thing to happen to them, not a month after settling in Kaiyah brought home a little Twi'lek girl. She couldn't have been older than five, but with her malnutrition it was hard to guess and she didn't know. She didn't even have a name and barely spoke Huttese.

They named her Tann, for hope.

A year later, while debating on putting their names with an adoption agency now that The New Republic existed and Ro could get his record expunged since his Rebel activities were no longer deemed as 'treason' or 'terrorism', the twins fell in their laps. A woman had shoved the babies on Jax, who was working on a bounty at the time, she said she couldn't take care of them and knew that the Mandalorians could. Jax didn't have a soulmate at the time and knew that the Donetta-Awauds were thinking about adopting again, so he asked if they would like to add the Zabraki twins to their family. The boys couldn't have been more than a few months old, their skin was more pink than the vibrant red it now was.

Kato, for Dagon's father. Even if they didn't talk he still liked the name.

Ellis, for Ro's buir. It was her clan name before she joined Kai.

Ro knew he made the right choice when Kai-buir cried. It sounded terrible at the time, like he enjoyed making his father cry, but it was such a relief to find out that he could. That Kai wasn't entirely gone, just not always there.

Ro still asks Dagon if he regretted it. Losing his fashion line, being a boring tailor to people who didn't really need a tailor. On those days Dagon holds Ro closer, his chin resting on his Mandalorian's head, "Never. Not once. I've never been happier than when I'm with you. 'Boring tailor' and all. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare."

^ Ro in his full armor. Isn't he a handsome boy?

Translations & Other Headcanons:

Ryma: Ryl, mother

Kora: Ryl, father

Buir: Mando'a, parent

Kai-buir: Mando'a, masc parents typically go by the first three letters of their name followed by 'buir'. The Donetta-Awaud children don't really follow this rule since they have one Buir and one Edalinare (Zabraki, family).

Ba'buir: Mando'a, grandparent

I headcannon Ro as a doctor who did all the bookwork, but never the internships which I believe is eight-ish years of school? Correct me if I'm wrong I just wanted to keep the timeline in some kind of order for myself (leaving Arumorut at sixteen + eight years of school leaves Ro somewhere near 24 when they have Tann, 25 for the twins). I also know that half the stuff Ro does in Arumorut a unlicensed doctor could never do in real life, but in his mind it got him close enough to what he wanted to do, hence the joke about 'not a doctor but close enough'. He was pretty over med school, honestly. Besides, he learned the good stuff from Nejaa (who is nowhere near doctor status, think closer to field medic/EMT who has Seen Some Shit).

Riduur: Mando'a, spouse

Tann: Ryl, hope

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare: Mando'a, I know you forever, beloved.

In my brain, Dagon is like 6'4", 6'5"-ish and Ro is a short king comparatively coming in at a hot 5'8", 5'9" (he swears up and down he's a solid 5'10". He's not.) Ro is almost always little spoon and doesn't mind it one bit.

I feel like I need to add a disclaimer: did I accidentally create Numa and her uncle with Tann and Ro? Yes, yes I did. Do I really care at this point? No, because it makes moodboards easy. Numa and her family belong to Disney and Lucasfilms, I did not create them and I don't want anyone to think I did. That arc plus the fact she shows up in Rebels makes me cry.

[e11evenkeys]

Pitch: The Adventures of Danger Rabbit- Chapter 2 Friendly Friendly (part 1)

Long story short, my dad wasn't arrested. Ms. Harper made her displeasure quite clear as far as my new form was concerned, but I wasn't taken away. Because of my mistake, dad had a reputation for being a careless father, and I was seen as a delinquent. Teachers started watching our family like we were career criminals, but dad raised me to be a good kid.

Regardless of the truth, I had a reputation that stuck with me as I grew up. Even into my junior year of high school, kids thought I was bad news. It didn't help that I had the worst luck imaginable, unlike Mr. Nickels, who I still had yet to find. Trouble seemed to seek me out. Just the simple act of walking home from school was dangerous enough to warrant fear of chaos. Freak accidents were a norm, and they only fueled the fire when it came to the negative light everyone shined on me. Of course, my dad always had the worst end of the fiascos because he had to deal with the aftermath.

If I had any luck at all, it was spent when I had the fortune of finding my two best friends.

B James was a girl who moved to town after my accident. Her parents were professional magicians, so naturally, I tried to get in good with them. I had hopes of them helping me. It turns out I didn't have to work too hard. BJ was fascinated with my form and impressed with my ability to create my own magic. I told her I didn't mean to transform myself, but I don't think she cared. She wanted to make new spells like her parents, and I suppose she thought I could help her. She overlooked how the rest of the school avoided me, but that might have been easy, considering no one flocked to her lunch table any more than my own. Remember when I said creating new magic was dangerous, well, BJ didn't care. We hadn't even graduated high school yet, but she'd created more spells than a person could count. It's important to keep in mind most of those spells had adverse effects or didn't do what they were meant to, but they did something.

My friend Wesson, a satyr I met in my freshman year of high school, didn't use magic at all. To be fair Fae, because of their natural abilities, didn't need magic as much as humans did. Even I had natural powers after my transformation like super hearing and invisibility. Which I'm sure is how Mr. Nickels managed to avoid capture for so long if he also possessed the same abilities. Wes being a satyr, was super fast and super strong, among other things, whether he appeared to be or not. We became friends after I tried to join the school's Creature club. There weren't many Fae that went to our school, so the club was meant to be a way of letting them all meet one another. Unfortunately, when I tried to join the club, someone pointed out I was born human, and that I was only what I was because I cursed myself. I couldn't join the club. Technically they weren't allowed to exclude anyone, but I thought it best to pick my battles wisely and let it go. Wes, being the best guy in the world, found me the next day and told me he thought the other kids were dicks for not letting me join the club. From that day on, I couldn't remember a time I couldn't fall back on the friendship Wes and I had.

It was two weeks till summer break. All of the ends of the year testing was out of the way, so everyone was waiting for the school year to come to an end. That Friday afternoon, I decided to walk BJ home. Despite my being close to Wes and BJ both, they never seemed to like one another. Every day I'd have to make a conscious decision whether to hang out with BJ, who loved playing magician and getting into trouble, or Wes, who was basically the brother I never had. BJ won that day because Wes had a meeting with the principal.

BJ should have taken the bus home, but I guess that would have been less time she got to work out new magic with me. We took a lot of back roads that day that eventually spit us out into the Dead Woods. It was the town's biggest forest, and it sat in the middle of everything. We learned in history class that old settlers named it the Dead Woods because back in the early days, when people were still coming up with most of the modern magic, they had to go far away from homes and buildings so bad magic wouldn't destroy anything. A lot of people died out there. Despite the bad history, it was a beautiful place as long as you knew where you were going.

"So there's this summer internship I read about," BJ said as we walked under branches while leaves crumbled under our footsteps.

"What kind of internship?" I asked.

We stopped walking so she could take her spell book out of her bag. The pages of her hand made spiral held weight and took time to flip through.

"For magicians. I thought you might want to go for it," she added.

"You want me to be a magician?"

"You created a working transmutation spell when you were 11."

I laughed at her, calling it a "working spell."

"Yea, and I've been trying to undo it ever since," I said with my amused tone still vocal.

"I could help you."

"I don't want to be a magician," I said in my most definitive voice possible.

"But I do."

I took a few steps away. I didn't want to stand too close while her book was out. Some of the stuff in that thing didn't need words to be activated. As she flipped through the pages, there was a danger similar to throwing a grenade into a kid's birthday party. Pages glowed and faded as her hands turned them over. I'm not sure how she managed to carry something around like that without constantly hurting herself.

"Then you should do it," I said as I crossed my arms and leaned against a tree.

She came near, and I knew to expect puppy dog eyes to fluff some kind of catch. That's what people do when they want something

"I need you."

I asked, "why," but she turned away.

"I need your spell," I thought she said, but I couldn't make out her words for sure, and with my big ears, that meant she was really quiet.

"What?" I asked.

"I need your spell."

I stood up straight.

"The spell that gave me fur and left with only eight fingers," I said before I continued with, " the spell that made my feet too big to wear shoes and ears big enough to hear my dad when he gets off at night."

"I have to submit a working spell to be considered."

"Then use one of yours," I said.

"None of mine work."

"What about the one you use to change your hair color?"

"It blinds anyone who sees me cast it."

"Then just use my spell, you don't need me for that, I wrote the words in some book, and I'll give it to you."

I wanted to get off the subject. Anyone who knew me knew how long I tried to find a cure for my curse. After years of turning over stones to no avail, of course, I gave up hope. That's not to say I didn't wish and dream for a way to change back, but being a bit of a pessimist meant I couldn't help but see the uneasy reality of how unlikely a cure was.

"It wouldn't be right to take credit for your work."

"But, it's alright to strong-arm your friend into an internship that'll take up our entire summer?" I didn't mean to sound nearly as argumentative or sarcastic as I must have at that moment, but it came out that way.

"There's a chance we won't even get it," she said, basically pleading with me at that point.

"If I say yes, will you leave me out of whatever experiments you're about to do?"

"But I had something special planned for today."

"That's my price."

"Deal, but you have to stick around to watch."

"In case something goes wrong?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," I replied.

We exchanged a mutual grin before she adjusted her glasses and finally flipped around in her book to find the newly crafted spells. We spent most of the afternoon in the woods. BJ wrote a spell for growing plants faster, but it made anything made of wood burst into flames, including all the papers in my backpack. She tried to put out the fires with another spell meant to create rain clouds, but it summoned a swarm of butterflies that flew into the flames. Needless to say, they all died. They died quickly, but at least the fires went out.

By that time, it was getting dark.

"We should get moving," I said as I picked our bags off the ground burnt as they might have been.

"We will never speak of what happened here to anyone, right?"

"Like always," I said with a chuckle before handing BJ her ruined bag.

We started on our way out of the woods.

"Do your parents know you're applying for this internship?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"Don't you think they should know?"

"I'll tell them once I, " she started to say before I cut her off with, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what," she asked.

There was a sound coming from the bushes ahead of us. It was too big to be a cat, dog, or rabbit.

"Stand back," I said as I put my arm in front of BJ.

"Is someone there," I called out into the distance, but no reply was returned.

Only the rustling of the bushes broke the silence as something or someone came near. It was close. There was a momentary pause of nothing but the bugs around us falling silent, and then whatever it was lunged out at me.

It was Wes. He made me fall backward and rip the arm of my button-down shirt.

"Shit," I yelled out.

He tried to catch my arm on my way down, but he was too slow.

"Sorry, dude," Wes said with a laugh as he helped me to my feet.

"What are you doing out here?" BJ asked in a tone more annoyed than me, but I was the one with the ripped shirt.

"I need Pitch."

"Well, he's walking me home from school."

"Schools been out for 3 hours now, and you know how to get home."

"You want me to walk by myself," BJ asked.

"No one ever offers to walk me home, and we're the same age," Wes said sarcastically.

I cut in, "Wes, what did you need my help with?"

"I need your ears," he said.

"Let me get BJ home, and then I'll swing by your place."

Neither of them was even looking at me anymore; they were staring one another down.

"Alright, just make sure 'Bug Burner' isn't with you."

"You saw that!" BJ exclaimed.

"I'll be there, alone," I said as I held BJ back from Wes.

A few uneasy, and unwelcoming glances were exchanged before we took to our separate ways.

"I don't know why you hang out with him," BJ argued.

"Wes is cool," I said.

"Wes is just short of being a toddler. He doesn't use magic."

"I don't use magic."

"That's different; you can't afford it."

"That hurt," I said.

"You know what I mean."

[deadinsidedressage]

Examples of my Classism & Elitism

Just helping @waywardequestrian back up her claims.

1) My accommodations for my horses growing up. My family had enough money to keep our horses on our property which consisted of dirt floor stalls so warped be repeated cleaning of wet spots over the years that I horrifically sprained my ankle in 2015 taking a misstep into one of the craters. Whenever I asked my parents about getting stall mats I was told that was too expensive and we couldn't afford it. I also had issues every year with the horses getting thrush and weak hooves from the foot-deep mud that made up about a 1/4 of the pasture (and was right outside the stalls) that existed about 1/2 the year since we live where it rains a lot. The two times my parents had enough money to buy me a truckload of gravel to try and fix it; it hardly made a dent and I was told they could only afford the one load.

2) My "arena" growing up. It's an empty grass lot that's wider but shorter than a small dressage ring. It also was horrifically rocky. Whenever I asked if we could put sand down and I offered to do it myself if they just bought it for me I was told we could not afford that. I did my best trying to clear out the large rocks, diligently taking a big fence post pry bar out there to remove the big ones every few weeks, filling in with dirt and hoping that by doing that I was reducing the risk of my horse taking a bad step and being hurt. I was lucky though that my neighbor would periodically run his riding lawn mower through it to keep the grass low. I tried a few times to keep a temporary fence up but ultimately the blackberries would just eat it up anyway so over the years I lost more length and width to that. My horses learned uberstreichen from me ducking to avoid tree branches I was in a constant battle with.

3) My parents couldn't afford to buy us (I have a sister who rode for a while) our own horses, so for the first few years we were given our cousin's pony to learn on and share. Then my mom careleased an old retired WP horse for a bit before having to send her away because she had eye problems and we couldn't afford the medication. For 3 years we shared an Arab pony who was 4 when my mom bought her for less than $500. Eventually we landed with two careleased Arabs, one who was 21 when we started leasing her and one was 7 when we started leasing him. After looking after the gelding for 7 years, his owners announced they wanted to sell him. We couldn't afford what they asked and he was ripped from our family after 7 years of an spoken agreement that he would be ours permanently.

4) Our first year in USPC we couldn't take our horses to any of the lessons because our parents couldn't afford a horse trailer. When we did finally get a trailer it was so ancient that the tackroom floor was rotting out. I lived in constant fear my shitty little saddle would fall through and be lost forever during one of our trips to the twice monthly USPC lessons we went to.

5) When my parents finally were able to buy me a horse, our budget wasn't supposed to be over $1500, but my mom got an extra $500 by selling some of her personal tack for the Arab mare she bought 1 year before becoming pregnant with me. She'd bought that mare for $700 dollars and she had to ask my grandfather to loan her the money so she could buy her. Mia was $2,500 but my mom had fallen in love with her personality so she negotiated to pay for her monthly. She paid $150 a month for her and they only agreed because she was a broodmare they had sold to riding home, had to rescue her from it, resold her to another riding home and then had to rescue her from that, and they were trying to get her off the property to make room for the valuable horses.

6) This or some variation of this was what I looked like the majority of the time I was growing up. My boots were an extra wide calf because my dad had actually bought them for my mom. I'm a regular calf. I wore them until they literally came apart, took them to a cobbler to get a repair that lasted a bit, and then wore them completely through again. Whenever I had to walk on foot somewhere with them my socks would get soaked from the holes in them. My show coat was a boys sport's jacket we got at Goodwill. My saddle was a shitty and ancient Steuben that did not fit my horse, actively caused saddle sores, and which forced my leg so forward I battled a chair seat. But my mom got it for $100 and it's called an all-purpose so can't you just do dressage in it? I also didn't have access to private lessons. I got my twice a month group Pony Club lessons.

7) When I was 13/14 I got really serious about horses and wanting to progress. I had to beg my mom for about a year to get private lessons and the deal was that I could only have two a month on the opposite weeks of Pony Club. My sister had pretty much stopped riding by then so it was a lot more doable financially and my mom was finally working full-time. As it became obvious I didn't have the right saddle, the right arena at home, the right clothes; I had to work to get access to those things. I luckily had a knack for braiding and lived close to a prominent show ground; I worked the shows and made enough money to get a dressage saddle, to get boots, to even get as basic of things as stable wraps for my horse.

8) As a 15-16 year old I worked as a WS for a hunter/jumper trainer in order to get weekly lessons. She wasn't against me for not having a TB or a WB, she honestly put in a lot to make things work for us and really liked my horse--- she did however exlcude me from opportunities I couldn't afford. I couldn't afford to do the rated shows, so I didn't. The year she thought I could take the school horse for one show she passed me over for the girl whose mom would pay her. I would've worked it off but that wasn't good enough.

9) This is the horse I competed for 10 years. She's standing on a hill so you don't get the best picture of her confo and this as all I could drag up. Long backed, downhill, weak hocks. Not exactly the perfect dressage or jumping prospect. Between ages of 14-16, I developed a lot as a rider. One of my trainers through Pony Club saw this development as a great time to try and rip me from this sub-optimal mount and stick me on one of his horses I could lease because I wouldn't progress on this horse. He didn't want to work with a downhill, long backed APHA that was deeply under conditioned and not professionally trained for where I was starting to head. The emotional abuse I sustained from that trainer-student relationship still effects me. But how could I tell Mr. Watson that not only did I love this horse, but that we couldn't afford a different horse.

10) 14-16 were tough years for me mentally as an equestrian. While I had one supportive trainer I actually worked for and lessoned with; the presence of the other who continually rubbed it in my face that my horse wasn't meant for dressage and jumping made me fall into that "I'm an underdog" toxic mentality that I've been talking about on this blog for years. For as much fuel as deeply hating someone tellimg me what I couldn't do there was a greater presence of a "woe is me the world is biased against us" attitude. Any bad scores were "because the judge hates non-Warmbloods" and not because I had a horse that struggled with being on the forehand. Not placing well in jumping was because "I don't have as much money as they do" and not because my equitation was mediocre at best and I chipped-in to every fence.

11) I went about 6-9 months without professional training at all because I was so disillusioned with it (again, despite having had a trainer who was trying to work with me and my horse) and managed to sort some things out on my own given the foundation I'd received from the h/j trainer.

12) I took the very strong foundation that the one trainer who was there for me throughout that period gave me and took my embittered 17 year old self off to an "unconventional" "morally superior" trainer who would turn out to be an opioid addict with more bravado than talent. Thinking I was such a supremely talented but underrated rider, I didn't develop as much as I could have and I wasted a lot of money where I shouldn't have. I wanted to do rated shows (and actually the opioid addict wasn't the worst dressage trainer) but was actively discouraged because "they won't score you what you deserve it's a waste of money"--- not true. My opioid addict trainer also wanted to take credit for the development of my horse's canter (she used to cross-fire and be so strung out) but literally couldn't get that canter out of her when on her. Realistically, given the right opportunities falling into place I could have probably knocked out my Bronze and part of my Silver on that horse in high school.

13) I was only guaranteed my horse at college with me for one quarter at age 18 (even though board actually broke down to be way cheaper than keeping her at home). I worked a lot my initial stint at undergrad to get more opportunities with my horse. Too bad I was being abused, tried to kill myself, and had to drop out of college.

14) At 18 it's not illogical to expect you'll have to field all your horse's costs yourself. My mom had always said she'd take care of Mia until she passed though--- so she'd always have food and shelter. I did have to retire her early though because I couldn't afford hock injections. My lucky break was that my mom had purchased a horse for herself my sophomore year of high school who I had in high school been putting time into (spitefully not much because she wasn't suitable for my mother, but when I thought I might be able to convince my mom to sell her right before I left with my horse to college I put in a lot more effort and took her to schooling shows) who was sitting doing nothing but certainly sound.

15) This blog documents part of 5 years in which Chevy was my primary horse, an even less suitable APHA, and my struggles with not being able to afford lessons, clinics, shows. You'll find a lot of me working that horse in that shitty little grass arena because I couldn't afford to haul-in as regularly.

16) This blog also documents the extremely emotional traumatic ups and downs of my mom wanting to sell Chevy because she realized she was never going to ride her and me coming to grips with the fact that even if I could manage to afford to board her myself I would continue to be stuck making no progress. I desperately and fiercely love that horse and she was desperately and fiercely very wrong for me.

17) That's who I am. I'm the bobo backyard rider whose horses went years without floating their teeth or getting vaccines because we couldn't afford it. The girl whose horse was always tripping when we first got her because we couldn't afford a farrier who knew what they were doing, we could afford Rich who charged $60 for all three horses. The girl whose mom had to sell her own tack in order to buy me a horse. I'm not speaking from a place of privilege. I'm speaking from a place of knowledge, of experience, and of protection for all the other little girls who just want a pair of boots that fit them right.

Don't you dare fucking presume to know me.

[brokemultidotexe]

As If It’s Your Last

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: If only people knew that Jeon Jungkook wasn’t as sweet and innocent like he made people believe. You knew the devastation he could cause. The two of you grew up together and you couldn’t find one without the other close by. Well, until Jungkook left for Seoul one day without saying goodbye. It’s been five years since he left and you’ve had no desire to see or speak to him ever again. But now he’s back in town and you’re being dragged to dinner at his parents house for dinner. The only thing you want to happen is for him to stay away while you act like he doesn’t exist, but Jungkook came back with one goal...for you to let him explain.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: None

Genre: Angst

“I’m sorry, what?” You needed it to be repeated because you were sure you heard her wrong.

“Jungkook is coming to visit his parents so we’re all going to get together in an hour or so that way everyone can catch up with each other. I figured you would be excited.” Your mom was busy chopping vegetables for dinner to see the look on your face of severe disapproval. It’s not that you hated Jungkook, because truthfully you could never hate him. But you hadn’t talked to him in years since he moved to Seoul and left you behind.

The pain of him leaving was gone, but the memory wasn’t. The both of you had been inseparable growing up. He was your best friend and the two of you were incredibly close, so when you found out he had auditioned and ended up getting a lot of offers from agencies in Seoul. You had been hurt that he didn’t tell you, but the deepest cut he made was when he left and didn’t tell you bye.

“Yeah. I’m thrilled.” you said sarcastically in response to your mother. You didn’t wait to hear if she had anything to say in response because you were already headed up to your room. You had kept up with Jungkook and his success but it wasn’t that you were actively trying to. His group was everywhere and had become so successful that they were winning awards in America and breaking records. You were happy for him but at the same time every time you saw him in ads or on billboards it stung that he so easily left you behind to go be an idol.

You spent the next few hours idly scrolling through tumblr and of course someone would decide to post a bunch of pictures of Jungkook. You sighed and started scrolling past but there were a few pictures that caught your eye. He definitely wasn’t a little kid anymore and he’d grown up to be incredibly attractive, it seemed puberty did well for him. You weren’t as lucky, you’d grown to be short like your mother. Because of all the dancing you did it didn’t make you super skinny like a lot of the girls your age. Yeah you definitely grew to have all the curves that girls wanted, but you were so shy and reserved you never showed it off. It was embarrassing when guys stare at you, so you had kept to loose fitting clothes.

“Y/N! Come down here, it’s time to leave!” Your mother’s voice cut through your thoughts and made you jump. You sighed and grabbed your hoodie at the end of your bed. If you were forced to go you were at least going to be comfortable. You knew your mother would protest, but you weren’t trying to impress anyone. Your family had known the Jeon’s for years and you still saw them occasionally, not near as much as you used to.

The ride to their house was silent while your mom forced you to hold onto the dish that she had agreed to bring. Your stomach growled at the delicious smell, you were ready to get there just so you could eat. The banana you grabbed before dance practice didn’t do enough to last you until dinner so you were ready to tear into a plate of food without any reservations.

When your mom pulled up to the front of their house you peered out your window. You hadn’t actually been to their house in years and it felt weird being back, it felt foreign. You swallowed a sigh not wanting your mom asking any questions. Your goal was to get through the dinner with your head down and leave as soon as you could without seeming too rude. You followed your mom up the driveway and waited as she rang the doorbell. Your heart was hammering in your chest and all you wanted to do was shove the dish at your mom and run away, but before you even got the chance to try the front door opened.

You heard his voice before you actually saw him since you were standing behind your mother. “Oh Jungkook! You’ve gotten so tall!” His laugh made you clench your jaw. You didn’t know why it annoyed you but here you were annoyed at the fact he laughed at something your mom said. Tonight was going to be a really long night. He stepped back so your mom could walk through and she went inside and left you in an awkward position where it was just you and Jungkook standing at the door.

You don’t think you’ve ever been in a more awkward situation. The both of you stood  there looking uncomfortable and awkward. Neither of you saying anything to the other. You truly met his eyes for the first time since you saw him and you felt your stomach twist. His eyes still looked the same, still a window to his emotions. You  could still see parts of the boy who had been your best friend lingering among the rest of this new Jungkook that seemed like a stranger.

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” His voice was soft and hesitant, which meant he knew what he did to you and how it affected you.

You pulled your eyes away and walked into his house not even saying a word to him. You weren’t sure what you’d say anyways, and if you did actually try it would probably end up with you cussing him out and the two of you knew that. Your body went into autopilot and you went straight for their kitchen and set the dish on the counter only to come face to face with Ms. Jeon.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you since you graduated high school. Your mom told me you finished your degree and were one of the top ten students in your major. That’s amazing.” She hugged you tightly and you hugged her back. You rarely saw the Jeon’s now since you didn’t have a reason to ever see them, but they were still nice enough to go to your high school graduation which meant a lot. You’d only just finished settling down at your moms before you started your job search.

“Thanks Ms. Jeon.” you gave her a genuine smile. “Hopefully I'll be able to find a job soon and can start looking at getting an apartment.”

“Well don’t rush it, it's hard not having your babies at home even though they’re old enough to take care of themselves.” She took the dish you had brought it, “I’ve got this, why don’t you two go hang out while we finish this up.”

You turned to see Jungkook leaning on the door frame his eyes watching you and his mother. “Umm...sure.” All the parents knew what happened and the fact they were trying to push you guys to talk, without actually saying it, was only making things even more awkward. Why wouldn’t they let the both of you do the normal thing and just act like the other one doesn’t exist unless they absolutely have to. The both of you awkwardly walked towards the back yard, you were hoping you could just sit at their patio table and make it look like you were attempting to talk.

The silence was absolutely deafening and the avoiding eye contact was making the situation even more awkward. “So mom says your graduated the top of your class. You always were super smart.”

You sighed, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he looked confused.

“Don’t try small talk, we both know you don’t care.” even you had to admit to yourself that you sounded completely bratty.

“I do care.” he sounded offended at your comment.

“Really now? You care about what my placement was when I graduated?”

“I care about YOU, so yes.” he put his elbows on the patio table and leaned into it from his chair.

You scoffed, “Yeah, you’ve made that apparent.”

“Y/N can I please explain why--”

“No. I don’t want to hear your bullshit explanation. We grew up together and spent almost every day together and I wake up one day and your gone without saying goodbye.” You refused to look him in the eyes and found the hole in your jeans to be very captivating.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. The sky was clear and you could see the stars littering the sky. It had turned into a habit that every time you went outside at night that you look up at the sky to see the stars, even if it was just walking to your car. You had spent many nights with Jungkook talking about the future and what you wanted to do when you got older while you looked at the stars. You couldn’t help but look  at him as he did it.

You didn’t like the way your chest ached now that he was around. All the pain you had stuffed down over the years was creeping up with him around you. Deep down part of you felt comfort from having him beside you again but the pain and resentment outweighed that. Part of you thought about telling everyone you felt sick and go home, the issue was that your mother drove and you would have to walk the five miles back to your house.

“I knew if I said bye to you that I wouldn’t be able to leave, even if it was a dream of mine. I thought that if you hated me that it would make it easier for both of us.” he said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. He didn’t care if you wanted to hear him out or not, he was going to tell you anyways.

“That is the most fucked up logic I've ever heard.” you scoffed.

“I know that. It wasn’t exactly my shining moment Y/N and I've regretted it ever since.” he sat up straighter and brought his head back up so he could look at you, “I wanted to call you that same night and apologize, but they took our cellphones as soon as we got to the dorms.”

For the first time that night the both of you made full on eye contact and it felt like someone was squeezing your heart. You hadn’t realized that you had buried so much pain over him leaving, you hadn’t realized that it affected you so much, but most of all you hadn’t realized just how much you needed him. None of that mattered though, because he made the decision to leave and he knew he hurt you. He deliberately hurt you in hopes it would be easier for you. You had always questioned his logic growing up because half of it never made sense. So you just stared at him in response, because you had nothing to say to that.

He continued despite your silence, “Once I was placed in a group under my company we were able to get our cellphones back, but by that time I figured you wouldn’t want to talk to me and that it was probably best if I just let you be. I thought that would be what you wanted and what would make it easier, instead of me risking opening old wounds. Believe me there were so many times I almost called. Every time things got hard you were the one person I wanted to call. Y/N I wish I could go back and do it differently, but I can’t.”

“Looking back at it, I was so pathetic over you leaving me. I waited for months for you to call, to get an explanation as to why. I wondered if you had been mad at me because I tried to talk you out of wanting to be an idol. I blamed myself for over a year. I eventually gave up and moved on and made you part of my past that I wouldn’t revist.” You leaned back in your seat to get move comfortable, “I didn’t think I'd ever see you again, but damn was I wrong. I had to listen to people talk about you with such infatuation and how amazing you were after your debut. I didn’t even know you’d actually debuted until people wouldn’t shut up about your group.”

“I came to visit two years ago hoping that I could talk to you, but you were off at uni.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table again, “I know the way I handled the situation was shitty and I just wanted to be able to explain, like I am now. I just want the chance to explain and to just talk to you. If you never want to talk to me again after this then I promise I won’t ever bother you again.” he looked so broken.

“You wanna talk? Fine. How about four years after you left my dad was killed by a drunk driver and you were nowhere to be found” You blinked away the tears that were quickly forming, “or do you want to talk about the abusive ex? No? What about the panic attacks every time I got in a car for six months after my dad died?” You fought back the urge to cry. “You were off living your wonderful idol life while I stayed here in Busan dealing with one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with.”

He looked to be in physical pain, “My mom called me and told me what happened believe me when I say I wanted to come back and be here for you, but I was in a different country in the middle of a tour. I couldn’t just up and leave. I tried calling you but the number I had for you wasn’t in service anymore. I figured that you’d changed it for a reason and didn’t want to talk to me. I just had to hope that your best friend at the time was there for you.”

You laughed sarcastically at the comment, “There was never anyone that filled the gaping hole you left, so no...I solo’d the grief period and tried to be there for my mom. Also, the reason I had to change my number was because my abusive ex wouldn’t stop harassing me”

He leaned back and ran his hand down his face “I spent years hoping that at some point I'd be able to come back here and get to see you. That I would explain everything and you’d be mad at me for a bit, but after I got done explaining you wouldn’t hate me anymore.” He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a breath, “But I'm living the moment I'd always hoped for and I'm listening to all the things I left you to deal with and it completely makes sense as to why you hate me. Hell, I hate me. I don’t expect the forgiveness that I was hoping for because I don’t deserve it and I could try making it up to you for the rest of my life but I would never be able to heal the wounds I left.”

“Well at least you got to live your dream right?” you said harshly.

He stood up from the table and looked down at you “I would give everything up to take your pain away Y/N. Money and fame don’t mean shit to me.” he started to pace, “If I had the chance to do it over I would have never left.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off before you could. He groaned, “God, things would have been so different. You would have been with me instead of that douche of an ex and I would have been here for you with everything that happened with your dad. I’d give up every damn thing I have to live that life with you Y/N”

Your mind was still frozen on the comment of the two of you being together. You acknowledged everything else he said but that comment caught you off guard, “You think we would have been together?” you asked not believing a word of it.

He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Jesus Y/N I've been in love with you since we were twelve and the kid down the street dared us to kiss. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. Nothing else I've endured has come close to that.” He put his hands on the back of his chair as he stood there. “I ran like a stupid fifteen year old who was terrified to confess and figured running away from the issue would fix the problem. I’ve literally stayed clear of any other girl because all I've wanted was you.”

You put your hand up causing him to not continue, “Stop.” you whispered and stood up because you didn’t trust your voice to stay even. “You don’t get to come back and say those things JK you don’t get to do that.” you were getting mad. The anger was rising as the heartbreak started to pool over and bleed into your emotions.

Jungkook walked around the table towards you and stood in front of you. When you went to take a step back to keep distance between you he grabbed your hands to keep you from going any further. “If you wanna yell and cuss at me, go head. If you want to slap me or punch me, go head. I deserve it.” he pulled you closer, “Do whatever you need to but please don’t leave, please don’t run from me.” he pleaded.

You put your hands to chest and pushed him as hard as you could causing him to stumble back a few steps, “You don’t get to come back years later and say shit like that! Why would you choose to say this shit now!?”

“Because if I don’t do it now I won’t ever get to. You don’t think I realize that I may never see you again after this? I’m very aware that I could lose you again and I will regret it every day if I don’t say it. It’s shitty circumstances and probably the worst time to bring it up but I see it in your eyes that I'm about to lose you forever and I need you to know that it was never your fault on why I left. You mean so much to me and I know I did a shitty job of showing it, but I was fifteen and stupid. I was fifteen and in love with my best friend and having to only be your best friend was killing me, so when Big Hit reached out to me I took the chance. I didn’t say bye because I knew if I saw you, if I looked into your eyes I would never go. My dream was to dance and do music and I didn’t think I would ever get to do it, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave you.”

“Jungkook I--”

He cut you off again, “You’ve been the most important thing to me since I was nine Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen. I’ve regretted not saying bye to you since I was fifteen. It didn’t take long to come to the realization that I had to fix things, that I needed you in my life. I needed you to at least hear me out and tell you how sorry I was. I am so sorry I left without saying goodbye, I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

You were angry that he was saying all these things. You wanted to stay mad at him because being mad was easier than being hurt. You don’t know where it came from but you pushed him away again and hit his chest over and over before collapsing against him while you sobbed. He put his arms around you and held you tight and kept whispering how sorry he was in your ear. You had always found comfort in his arms and even though he was the reason for your pain you still found comfort in him like before.

You weren’t sure how long the both of you stayed like that as he continued to hold you and whisper things in your ear. He would occasionally put his lips to your forehead and continue to repeat how sorry he was. He pulled back just a little so you would look at him, “I know I don't deserve your forgiveness and I don’t expect it, but please let me fix it. I will spend the rest of my life fixing what I broke, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please don’t walk away from me. I finally have you in my arms and I'm not sure I'll be able to let you go.”

“I don’t forgive you.” your voice was thick with emotion.

“I don’t expect you to, but give me the chance to try.” he quickly pleaded.

After taking a moment to make sure you meant what you were about to say, you were able to give him his answer, “Okay.”

“Okay?” He seemed shocked.

You nodded, “Okay.” He pulled you into a tight hug and you didn’t want him to ever let go, because you’d needed him for all these years and here he was in front of you wanting to make things right.

AN: I enjoyed writing this. It originally started out as inspiration from SVT’s “Thanks” but it took a different direction, but I think it came out okay. Since the interest in Unexpected has died down a bit I think i’m going to slow down posting chapters and start working on a few oneshots here and there. I’ve also started an imagine blog, if you want to check it out you can go here but for now this is what I present you. Hope you like it!

[inopinion]

"Hey, are you okay?" "Yeah. I've just got a lot on my mind." "Care to elaborate?" "I don't want to bother you." "Nonsense. That's impossible. You could never bother me. What's going on?"

Hey, look! I made a thing.  Asks, prompts, etc. always welcome.

Please reblog to spread the word. Comments welcomed.

@lilyharvord, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @mareshmallow, @adraxsteia, @spookysamos, @red-queen-united, @redqueenfandom, @runexandra, @delilahronnelle, @mom2reesie, @chaoslaborantin

More writing available at /MyWriting, FFN, AO3, Wattpad

For what might come next

Mare couldn’t light up the world with one touch, but sometimes she tried. When she did, she couldn’t avoid the exhaustion it brought. Her fellow electricons had discipline to spare. They quit when they achieved their goals. They were exacting and precise. She just never quite managed to rein it in.

Mare was a blundering tornado of destruction. Her lightning shot out across the sky and along the ground. She shimmered in purple flashes and bright explosions while others ducked and covered. In her frustration, it only got worse. Pulses screamed out of her hands and off her arms. Archs threatened to leap from her ears and the tip of her nose. It was hard to find an off switch.

Rafe suggested moderation might come with time. Tyton sniped that they should just say Cal’s name and drop her in the center of the Lakelands, the war would be over. Ella thrust up a hand, sending warning bolts Tyton’s way and then assured Mare that as she learned she’d figure out her limits. Maybe Rafe and Ella were right, or maybe she wasn’t destined to be tempered. She might flash and bang through a few short years and at the end find herself drained like a battery, used up by war with nothing left for herself.

She thought about losing her powers a lot. She remembered the silent stone and the strangling weight that loomed over her every waking moment. Or sometimes, she thought about bombs falling, ice crushing, plants strangling, and fire burning, picking which she’d prefer to take her. Even in still, lonely moments sitting on the field waiting her turn, her mind could turn a bird’s shadow into a stone from a wall exploding. She would jump and scramble only to see nothing more solid than her friends in close proximity.

Closing her eyes was hardly safer. In rest, she wondered about the reconstructed flag outside her mother’s window. Would another star be dashed black? Would she crush them into mourning?

If she kept moving, she could keep some of the worst thoughts at bay. Between her few responsibilities, she meandered up and down Corvium’s streets until her feet ached and her body might be weary enough to drift into a dreamless sleep. She slipped into the small row house they’d claimed as their own.

Farley had a room upstairs, empty now that she was back on base visiting Clara and planning their next steps. Mare shared the larger upstairs room with Ada, though her roommate had been gone, too. Downstairs, Kilorn, Bree, and Tramy had claimed a room that used to be a living room as their own. And Cameron shared a smaller room the old dining room with her brother.

Mare’s brothers didn’t fight on the front lines anymore. They and other reds, Kilorn and Morrey included, trained on long range artillery. Still dangerous, but they’d be away from the hand-to-hand she had to face, away from the silvers. Their training kept them on a schedule much fuller than her own, and she could trust the house to be empty enough for a midday nap.

Mare stopped short passing the kitchen on the way to the stairwell. She was not alone.

“Hey,” she called.

Kilorn jumped and scrambled and flipped pages over in front of him. She smirked, surprised he was still embarrassed about studying. She didn’t know how much progress he’d made he was so bashful about it. Even in a house of people who knew he was illiterate, he was too prideful to expose himself to her. He sat hands pressed flat against the table, back straight, and stairing straight forward–as if he thought she’d just move on.

“Are you okay?” she smirked, almost laughed at the stiffness.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He crossed his arms and nodded. His rigid posture screamed the opposite. The heavy swallow hinted at more than just his studies being the source.

“You sure you’re okay?” The temptation to needle him, tease him rose up.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind is all. I’m okay. I’m fine. Thanks.”

Thanks? Thanks? There were no thanks in their relationship. She looked harder, let her intuition feel him out, and while she couldn’t point at exactly what it was there was something there. Something deeply distressing to him, almost comical to her, but also untouchably raw.

She pulled her smirk down into a sincere neutrality. “Want to talk about it?”

Mare took the steps to the table and glanced at the shuffled stack of papers, the pencils on the table. Kilorn stacked them neater, less to show.

“I don’t want to bother you with it. Just, you know… stuff.”

“I wouldn’t be bothered, Kilorn. I mean, if you want to talk to someone about something… I’m here.”

His face went red, all the way up to his ears.

“Come on, what’s going on? Maybe I can help?” School never ranked very high on Mare’s list of activities, but she’d managed to pull out the important stuff. And if Kilorn needed help reading something, she could at least do that.

“It’s… it’s dumb.” He curved in on himself in a way that rarely happened anymore but reminded her of being back home, before.

“I’ve been handling your dumb for years. Lay it on me.” Mare reached out and pulled at the paper. “I was never much for homework, but you know I can try to help.”

“It’s not… it’s… ugh, fine. I was writing a letter. But I keep getting mixed up. I can’t remember how to spell things and even if I think it’s right, it doesn’t look right. And then I can’t get the words down fast enough and so I skipped a few on accident. So then I started over. But… it… it doesn’t matter. It’s dumb.”

Between the lines she heard it: I’m dumb. Kilorn was silly. He was emotional and impulsive. He was shortsighted and, much like her, rarely did anything that wasn’t with his full conviction.

“What kind of letter? Let me help. I can write the words and you can copy them, one by one so you don’t get the letters mixed up,” she offered.

“It’s… it’s personal.” He paused, still red and hot. He swallowed again, then admitted, “This is weird.”

“Weird because?”

Kilorn hunched further down under her inspection. Mare’s stomach flipped in realization. Kilorn needed to write a personal letter, one that he was embarrassed to tell her about.

“Because it’s for a girl?” He shrugged, noncommitallly. “Okay. And because… I get it. It’s weird for you. So, I guess you can wait for Ada. That’s cool.”

“No, I can’t wait for Ada. I… need someone else.” He said slowly, looking out of the corner of his eye for the briefest of seconds.

Mare’s brow furrowed. “You need someone else?”

“Anyone else.” he cleared his throat and his hands flexed into fists.

”Oh.”

“See, I told you it was stupid. She’ll take one look at it and she’ll…” Kilorn trailed off before grabbing the papers and looking at the trash can.

“No! You should.”

“I should?” He checked, looking square at Mare.

“Yeah, I think it could go well for you.” Mare had no idea if it would or not, but she hadn’t been practicing her lying all her life to fail her friend now. So she committed, “And, maybe it’s awkward and strange fro me to help, but I am here, ready to help. So, what do you want to say?”

Mare took the paper from him and looked at the backwards a’s and the misspelled words and lines of trying that dissolved into repeatedly writing the same word over and over and over like he couldn’t decide how to make a ‘b’.

“I just want to thank her for helping me. Maybe tell her that I like spending time with her. But if I can’t do it myself, then it’s sort of proving she’s wasted her time. And she’s got a whole lot better things to do.”

“Oh, shut up.” Mare dismissed him with a pointed glance. “So you need help. I need help all the time. You don’t see me running away from Ella when she’s hell bent on making me make storms. I line up and let her torture me for hours. And I get better. But I’m not good at making storm lightning. I’ll probably never be good enough to use it in a fight, but I keep trying, hoping that maybe I’ll get another tool out of it. And Ada knows you try.”

Kilorn rolled his eyes. Storm-lightning and word-making didn’t exactly line up in his head.

“Come on, Warren. Let’s write a letter.” Mare gripped the pencil and kicked his leg. He didn’t move, his mood pretty sunk. She kicked him again. “Hey, fish-boy, you wanna tell her thank you or not?”

“Fine. But… don’t make fun of me, okay?”

“Never-ever.”

“And don’t tell your brothers. They won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“Lips sealed. So what exactly do you want to say?”

He stopped breathing for a moment, wet his lips, hesitated, and cleared his throat. He was in deep, maybe deeper than ever before. Mare prepared to hear words she knew she once expected him to say to her. She sat at the table facing the death of something she didn’t know she’d miss; and yet, excited to witness the birth of something else, maybe–if they could get it down on paper.

[actualshonenprotagonist]

I have a tale to tell. A tale of 8 yards of beautiful green brocade, and why I am terrified of my own charisma.

There are some rather excellent fabric stores not far from where I live. One of them in particular, I've chatted up one of the salesladies enough times over the last couple of years that we know each other by name and she asks how my mother is. We'll call her Annette for the sake of protecting her privacy.

So yesterday I go in to get a price quote on upholstery foam for a potential commission I have coming up, and of course I have to do some looking around because they're doing a moving sale and some of the discounts are very nice indeed. And what do I see but the following glorious vision of green brocade:

Green is my favorite color, and let me tell you, it is HARD to find good greens, especially deep, warm, saturated greens like this. I nearly cried at how beautiful it was. Did I need it? Probably not. I'm already swamped with sewing projects, and I'm trying to clear the docket so I can take more paid work since I got laid off from my cushy office job writing patterns and drafting systems. But dear gods above, do I want it like I haven't wanted anything in a good long time.

I check the tag. It's $9.99, which is pretty good for a nice lightweight upholstery brocade. Annette comes over and notices me eyeing it with lust. "Y'know it's 75% off," she points out.

"Off of $10?" I say, incredulous. "Yep," she confirms. "It's been here for ages, no one else wants it. Crazy."

I ask Annette to cut me a swatch so I can burn it, to try and talk myself out of what is probably 100% synthetic and therefore a heat exhaustion deathtrap. It passes with an A- -- it seems to be rayon and cotton, acceptable to wear in hot weather without dying.

So I walk around the store for a bit to figure out how many yards I needed. I figure five is enough for whatever I end up deciding to do with it, and $12.50 is a truly incredible price for five yards of breathtakingly gorgeous fabric. I can make myself a modern three piece suit with five yards, and an 18th century suit with 4. The pattern looks like it'd be perfect for Tudor-era, which would probably be somewhere in that area as well. Please note: I have no plans to make myself a Tudor suit in the near future.

Annette agrees that it's perfect for Tudor era (she's been wanting to do a Tudor era gown for a while) and when I ask her to cut me five she says "I'll give you an extra 3 yards just to be sure."

So she cuts me 8 yards, puts it on a big roll. Marks it five. I go up and pay my $13, tax included. I shove the roll into the back of my car. I now have 8 yards of this fabric and no regrets.

Now, I am a pile of weird. I don't fully understand how or why I have this sort of effect on people, or whether I'm expected to do something in return. I chat up salespeople as a defense mechanism because on some level I'm quite sure that they'll think I'm up to something nefarious if I don't convince them that I'm friendly and unsuspicious (possibly left over from some youthful petty thievery and the number of times I made a game of cutting class to go to the library during high school, using small-talk as a weapon when I couldn't avoid the hall monitor).

So here's me, with Annette, who is very nice and friendly and certainly seems to like me, but I don't really think of as a friend, per se. And I'm slightly terrified that I've managed to accidentally befriend someone with my weird defense mechanisms, and am thus benefitting from a friendship that I'm effectively engaging in under false pretenses. I can't tell her "I'm sorry, I don't actually want to be friends with you, I've just been chatting with you on and off for two years because my brain thinks that you'll think I'm suspicious if I don't make small-talk, and in fact I have actively avoided you on occasion." My worst nightmare is that she thinks I'm flirting, because among other issues, she's old enough to be my mother.

And that's why I'm terrified of my own charisma.