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killervibe · 11 months

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I trust your opinion on The Flash most of all, so how did you feel about Cecile’s character trajectory? I was not a fan of what they did with her character, but I also thought the level of hate she ended up getting seemed unjustified? Everything from the way she was dealing with her grief over Joe’s death during Armageddon to her getting a super suit, she was torn apart for. I never understood the hyper-focus on her in later seasons, but I also think the hate the she gets is insane.

Thank you for asking me this. I'm actually excited to write another Flash essay-response. I missed this.

In short, yes, I found Cecile's meta arc frustrating and confusing but I do not hate her character nor do I have an issue with a middle-aged hero existing.

The problem and fandom obsession with Cecile is multifaceted. She was a doomed character of inherently flawed writing, but her fall from grace through fandom's eyes is nothing short of misogynoir.

The Seal ??? you're going to compare a black woman to an animal for your satisfaction? In a world where black women are constantly described as animalistic and primitive? There is only one character who gets just as much ceaseless vitriolic hate as Cecile and that is Iris.

First and foremost, I would like to raise that where I have seen the absolute worst treatment towards Cecile and Dani N is Twitter--I left Flash Twitter 5 years ago (though I was never truly fully on it) because of the sheer racial animosity I felt on there as a biracial person. I've read so much disgusting racialized hate towards Dani N (including from fans of Candice and Iris, no less and it saddens me to see the community disillusioned into believing that to be protective of a black lead means that any other black character is an enemy destined to be pitted against her) especially in terms of questioning or diminishing her blackness. It was disgusting and it still is.

The problem with empaths/telepaths/mind control powers is that they become limitless very quickly when no boundaries are set in place. Her powers were confusing and used for exceedingly expository purposes that felt like a cop-out the longer it went on. I cannot tell you how many times I have lost my understanding of the "science" plots in the last 3 and a half seasons and that is a good chunk of Cecile's meta problems.

Season 4 worked because Cecile's powers were bounded to her pregnancy. She served as an adequate neutralizer against The Thinker which was needed at the time. Her powers should've had an expiry date and ended when Jenna was born. Or, more accurately, her powers should've been Jenna's. Cecile's powers manifested upon Jenna's conception, it would've served that the source of her abilities came from the baby, not herself. Without going into too much detail, this could've nicely allowed Nora (and Bart) to have family closer in age to be a part of their eventual Flash Fam team roster. Of course, it didn't pan out that way. They needed to give Cecile's powers concrete limits without evolving or "levelling up" in a way that overshadows the titular character. This is a given! They gave her everything and it was ridiculous, empath/telepathy/mind possession/emotive projection - like yeah. It's too much. It's annoying and it's too much!

In Stargirl, the Brainwaves were eliminated early on in the series because they were OP. Those writers were cognizant of that fact and woven in a compelling story that served to ensure that the empath/mind control characters were set in their place without overthrowing the entire capacity of the main heroes of the show.

Cecile made a great lawyer, but she failed spectacularly at all of her crucial lawyering post s3.

And it's a writing problem. Lazy effort went into how to include any in-universe plausible legal processes in this show. S4 Barry trial and S7 KF trial are glaringly obvious examples like this. But we should have known that the majority of the responsibility of these flaws lays in the hands of the writers inability to do justice to ANY of their female characters, which goes exponentially for the black women. So of course I am not surprised that they blundered with Cecile as she was promoted from supporting to main cast.

Nora Allen? Murdered (x150). Tess Morgan, the founder of STAR LABS name? Murdered & never revived unlike the 500 Wells. Linda? Disappeared. Francine? Dead. Tina McGee? Disappeared. Jesse? Erased from existence. Caitlin/Killer Frost/Crystal Frost/Khione? Murdered three times, reduced to repetitive abusive love interest storylines and retconned storylines into oblivion. Cynthia? Murdered. Kamilla? Treated like dirt & disappeared. Marlize? Same. Sue? Disappeared. Joanie? Disappeared. Jenna? Disappeared. Carla and Cisco's mom? Both also awful. Meena? Disappeared. Alexa? Who? Esperanza? Murdered. Allegra was okay ish, and I know there are more (Ralph's mom, Becky Sharpe, but really, I think I've made my point...) but that literally leaves us with Cecile, Iris, and Nora I/II as our black female leads who had to face the brunt of the worst writing (and most hatred when it was their "time" to shine).

This show cannot execute motherhood properly. It refuses to. See: Iris s5 and literally every mother to ever mother on this show except for Nora Allen...

But also, both the creators and the fandom seem to hold this ideology that motherhood is the end all and be all of life and value? Show runners have said again and again that The Flash would have to end when Iris is pregnant because that's when it's "over" ??? I did not understand that when it was first said and I still do not understand that. This concept of femininity directly tied to the merit associated to motherhood is a good chunk of the reasoning behind people claim to hate Cecile--Because she is a superhero who has sacrificed as a single mother and now struggles with balancing her desires vs her obligations? Cecile, who has been written as a black woman who canonically struggled to society's standards of excellence causing her stress and anguish to the point of mental break? I appreciated the s7 psycho-pirate and mental health struggles she had - so I wasn't horrified to see that she struggled with grief in s8's plot. The type of mental health issues that these storylines explored is a real lived experience that many women have, and I find it fascinating that there is this double standard here. This is a superhero show. Like...we're hating her for, what, exactly? For being a superhero and wanting to help people?

I mourn Cecile's "downfall" because she was a great addition to the West family as a supportive cast. I mourn the fact that Iris and Cecile never really had a great relationship despite both being mains. I mourn the fact that she was given more weight than Iris in the last season instead of supporting and encouraging her. Because that's why her role was elevated in the last season, to replace Joe in his absence as Iris' number #1 cheerleader. But it never properly translated that way and that is a shame. That said, her role in the show shouldn't have been strictly reduced to "Mother" and "Grandmother" --That isn't fair. I adored the way she spoke to Nora I in s5 but she did deserve to go on adventures the same way Joe has since s1. Why shouldn't she? I think this is what Eric Wallace was trying to achieve and I applaud him for the idea but have to criticize the execution. The show has failed her in her area of expertise of being a successful lawyer, mocked her by putting her through a pregnancy for a child they couldn't commit to, and then kicked her character into the lion's den for death by turning her into an OP'd meta at the mercy of a prejudiced fanbase already notoriously well-known for mistreating black talent. This could've easily been avoided with more clever solutions that positions Barry--the creator of Gideon--as the focus and true mastermind behind Team Flash plans.

#the flash #cecile horton #s9 #9x13 #tkv rambles #ask #anon

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themattress · 8 months

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FE3H: 1, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 24, 25

1 - Not "everyone" gets them wrong, but both Edelgard and Claude frequently suffer from truly terrible takes. Edelgard gets treated as a clear-cut, evil and/or stupid villain rather than the morally gray character with admirable qualities that she truly is, while Claude gets treated as a 100% reliable good guy when in fact he's far more complicated and has just as much potential to swing toward the dark side as Edelgard and Dimitri (though he's admittedly still more reasonable on the dark side than either of them). Tellingly, many fans got angry at Three Hopes for clarifying the truth about them rather than admit they pegged them wrong.

3 - Concerning takes on Edelgard:

7 - "Hate" is a strong word; I don't hate him at all and think he's a good character....buuuut I'll freely admit that I have less fondness for Dimitri than I might otherwise have had due to the fandom's treatment of him. So many fans who accuse other fans and even the games' writers of "uwu woobifying" Edelgard in order to distract from her flaws and crimes do exactly that for Dimitri without a hint of irony. This is a guy who, prior to his redemption in Azure Moon and prior to his death in Silver Snow and Verdant Wind, committed the most personally vile, cruel acts out of all the Lords, with little to no remorse. That's really not something that should be minimized or brushed under the rug as if it didn't happen, nor is it something that any amount of trauma can excuse. Hell, Dimitri at the end of Azure Moon would agree with me here!

8 - The common opinion of Edelgard haters is that the Church of Seiros did little to nothing wrong and Edelgard is stupid or evil for wanting to destroy it, while the common opinion of Edelgard fans is that the Church of Seiros is rotten to the core and the best future for Fodlan is it being destroyed. I disagree with both takes. The problem isn't the Church, the problem is Rhea. And not in a bashing way, in an objective way that Rhea herself concedes to by the end of Silver Snow and Verdant Wind: she let her fear, grief and desire consume her and cause her to run the Church in a (though she of course didn't see it this way) self-serving manner that exacerbated the divides in Foldan. The bottom line is that a lot of Fodlan's problems could have been resolved if only poor Rhea had gotten some serious therapy.

9 - The Battle of Gronder Field's aftermath in Azure Moon. On paper, I like Dimitri's redemption arc, but I feel that the execution behind his big turning point was handled horrendously. Rodrigue, who is Felix's father and not Dimitri's, dying gets Dimitri to turn around while Felix himself barely reacts. Fleche, who had potential surviving and helping in Dimitri's arc while also being helped herself, is just casually killed off while only Dimitri finds healing and redemption. And Byleth just forgets that they have the power to turn back time, therefore allowing Rodrigue and Fleche's deaths to happen. Worst writing in the game, easily.

10 - All of the blatant mischaracterizations.

12 - Now, I totally get why many find him off-putting, but Lorenz deserves more love. He is among the biggest cases in the game of someone who struggles to unlearn what he's been taught for his entire life, but that's what makes him so interesting. And whenever he's actually successful at it, he's quite likable with his more humbled personality and bonds with others.

16 - The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Blue Lions. For the most part, it's a bog-standard medieval kingdom and character archetypes that have been done better elsewhere.

17 - More Edelgard vs. Hilda casual rivalry fics/art please; it's hilarious.

18 - Edelgard/Claude as a ship. So much potential there!

19 - Silver Snow. Yes, it's the most unpopular route in Three Houses. Yes, its execution is ass. Yes, its character dynamics are wasted. Yes the final boss is an absolute nightmare. But I like what it was trying to do, damn it! With enough tweaking, it coulda been a masterpiece!

20 - The Heroes' Relics. I get why they're a big deal, but I can't bring myself to actually care about them beyond a gameplay level. And yes, that includes the Sword of the Creator.

21 - Dimitri, Faerghus, the Blue Lions and Azure Moon! Haven't you been paying attention?

24 - Edelgard, of course!

25 - I have sometimes heard complaints that the Golden Deer get the short end of the stick because their backstories, families and home regions tend to get less focus compared to the Black Eagles and Blue Lions. This is missing the entire point. The Golden Deer don't represent a single, powerful entity, but a diverse alliance of city-states, one that has been particularly shaky as a of late. The individuals are not as important as the unity - the alliance - between them is. The focus isn't meant to be on the Golden Deers' backstories, families and home regions, the focus is meant to be on how they gel with one another despite their differences and what they achieve together. In any case, Three Hopes granted more spotlight on half of their homes and families, so it's not like they're totally deprived of that either.

#Fire Emblem #Three Houses #Three Hopes #Opinion #Meme

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olderthannetfic · 2 years

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(Boundaries anon) you make a good point. I lost a friend recently they abandoned me because of my depression and it felt like pure betrayal I made the horrible mistake of saying of they can’t handle me at my worst then they don’t deserve me at my best and that I deserve better friends who can handle my depression. They basically picked a bunch of snobby assholes over me instead of being loyal to me. It hurt I have borderline personality disorder I am getting treatment for it but they didn’t care they rather be around people who are fake nice then me who is real. I know this stupid to expect so much out of a friendship but I am starting to think they didn’t care about me the same way I did them because they would ghost me a lot then make excuses. But expect me to drop everything when they were upset basically they are allowed to set boundaries I wasn’t. I think that’s what causes me problems people never seem to respect my boundaries at all so when people set boundaries to me it feels unfair when I can’t do the same.

Oh boy.

Yeah, friends often can't, won't, and shouldn't have to handle your depression at its worst. Get rid of that "if you can't handle me" logic right now. It's a trite lie from Mary Sue fanfiction where only the protagonist's feelings matter.

Can you handle a seriously depressed friend who needs 24/7 handholding, if only temporarily? Is this something you routinely do for your friends? For that friend?

The answer is almost certainly no, and if it's yes, it's going to be one friend at a time and in an unhealthy, codependent way.

The kind of person who will be there even at your worst is a spouse. The level of friend we're talking is like if you're fifty and your best friend has been with you every day since you were five.

And even then, many spouses leave over this kind of thing because their own mental health simply cannot stand up to out-of-control mental illness.

It sucks to feel like you were dumped for inferior friends. Those new people may actually be jerks or they may not. But based on your description, your friend probably left you because you were unhealthy for them.

I just friend-dumped someone I've known since 1999 over a long-term pattern of only taking their own mental health and feelings into account. They're outraged at the betrayal too and trying to blame it on me being selfish instead of me finally growing a spine and saying I deserve to be happy.

"You left me for [shitty reason]" is a face-saving effort your brain makes to ignore the real reason: you were hard to be friends with.

they rather be around people who are fake nice then me who is real.

This is toxic bullshit.

When you say "real" here, you mean depressed and unpleasant to be around. Why don't your friend's feelings matter? Why is only your pain real?

I believe you that your pain is real. Your situation is tragic, and you deserve sympathy.

But sympathy at a distance.

Everyone else also has pain. Everyone else also has mental health they have to work on, maintain, and defend.

The world is a long stream of bad habits and worse news. Staying healthy means proactively countering that, focusing on productive things, and avoiding things that tank our mental health. That frequently means dropping people who hurt us and give little back.

What do you give back?

I am getting treatment for it but they didn’t care

Why should they care?

People care about results.

It's good that you're making an effort, but it's not enough if you're still hurting your potential friends. They deserve friends who are kind to them. You don't sound very kind in this message. You sound like you only think of yourself.

I know this stupid to expect so much out of a friendship but I am starting to think they didn’t care about me the same way I did them

My friend whom I just had to dump spent a lot of time talking about how much she loved me and how I was her best friend. We've known each other for years, but she didn't listen to me. Increasingly, over the years, I felt like she liked the image of me in her head, not the real me who exists in the world.

Being excessively attached to a saintly icon of your friend in your head while ignoring their actual needs is typical of some mental issues.

I'm not saying 100% this is what happened here, but there's a good chance.

because they would ghost me a lot then make excuses.

If you made explicit plans and they stood you up, they're a jerk and you're better off without them, regardless of anything else.

If you said you wanted to hang and they were vague, they weren't invested in the relationship, and that was a signal to try again somewhere else.

We cannot control who likes us. Hell, the other person can't control if they like us.

But expect me to drop everything when they were upset

This is the only thing you've said that puts me even slightly on your side here. My big question here is what "drop everything" means here. How much were you giving? How often did this happen? How major and unusual were their upsets?

The thing is, this doesn't tell me that it was a potentially good friendship that they then ran out on. At best it tells me they were always a user and you were a sucker for putting up with them. At worst, you're misunderstanding the situation, and you put out a small amount of normal friend effort and expected it returned tenfold and/or you offered support in a way that was clearly transactional and that transactional vibe chased them away.

basically they are allowed to set boundaries I wasn’t. I think that’s what causes me problems people never seem to respect my boundaries at all so when people set boundaries to me it feels unfair when I can’t do the same.

THESE ARE NOT BOUNDARIES

"I need you to babysit me while I cry" is a demand, not a boundary.

"I just don't have the time or emotional capacity to handle your depression" is a boundary.

I realize you can rephrase anything as "I have a need", but basically, think of boundaries in this context as saying "no" to doing labor. Asking for a need, asking for an outlay of effort, is a request. It's not a boundary.

What I think is happening, anon, is that you want a thing out of friendship that is NOT HEALTHY, so either people run away from you or you pick terrible choices of friend who also want something unhealthy because you're hoping they'll return your unreasonable effort later... only they use you then run off before returning the favor.

What you're seeking, in my opinion, is a friend who is "safe" because they will never leave you.

That's not a friend. That's codependency and a person who's locked in a downward spiral with you. Not just you personally. Everyone. In all cases.

A friend who will be "loyal" through literally anything is not a healthy person.

People with good self worth who have their shit together will all reach a point where they realize another party is bad for them and shouldn't be in their life anymore. Saying "you can never dump a friend" is like saying "divorce is evil".

Even a very kind, giving, loyal person sometimes has to leave for their own self respect.

Frankly, anon, I think your treatment is at a point where no friend worth having can handle your depression. If these are online friends, that goes times a thousand.

BPD is quite hard to manage. I know you're in treatment, but you may need more hours per week and more homework from your therapist to do between sessions. If it's financially possible, consider increasing the amount of professional support you have.

You are looking for something from friends that healthy friends don't do.

Have you told your therapist what you told me? I think you need to talk to them and give them all the nitty-gritty details of your actual life and this friendship. If possible, show them things the friend has written, not just how you remember them being.

If you're regularly misreading and not listening to your friends (as is the issue with the person I had to dump), the therapist may be able to see this from their own words and point out specific signals you missed

Frankly, I've explained this before, I presume to you yourself since you sound kind of distinctive.

I don't think it's getting through from me.

I think you're just too attached to the notion of a "loyal" person who will be safe and never leave, and I think this is a primary symptom of your disorder.

You need to talk to your professional help about this. You need to work on how you conceptualize friendships before you'll be able to keep friends.

You're welcome to show your therapist this post or any of my posts. But please show them your actual interactions with your friends.

Asking chatty bloggers for help is not going to solve this for you, not when you've tried this strategy multiple times and it hasn't changed how you think.

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3desiderium3 · 3 years

Text

For your love

chapter five - On my own

[ series masterlist ]

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings : reader x damiano david

story summary : damiano and reader are in very loving relationship that sometimes almost too quickly becomes too toxic for anyone likings

chapter warning (s) : this is sad i made myself sad

" It was a pretty rough night not gonna lie .. She barely managed to fall asleep around 8 am . I woke up a few times to check upon her cause she had her nose clogged from all that crying . "

Victoria said over phone to Thomas .

It was around one in the noon . She was frying some eggs and vegetables for her and Y/N to eat .

" How did it went over there ? " "Jesus I wish I knew honestly . "

Thomas admitted sighing .

" When he came here last night he was crying . Like really hard . It took him 30 minutes to calm down and tell me what he did .. " " And ? " " I tried punching him in the face but I ended up hurting my hand more . " Vic chuckled upon the thought of Thomas hitting someone , especially Damiano .

" And I don't know he just continued to cry and smoke cigs . I swear to Jesus he smoked like whole 3 packs in one night . I am not sure when he fell asleep or if he did . But there was not much talking here trust me . "

Both of them went silent . Not being able to choose one side . Both Y/N and Damiano where their long known friends and dear people in general .

" Y/N is more than my best friend . She is my family . I would do anything that I can to keep her safe , just like with you . That's why I am feeling so guilty upon meeting her with Damiano. "

" Hon' it was not your fault remember ? " The other line was silent .

" Have you ever wondered how it would look like if they didn't end up together ? "

" Yeah .. I mean maybe .. You know I did often when I found myself in between their arguments . "

" Pft please , they where soft near you comparing to their usual . "

Thomas lighted up his cigarette , the sound of him taking a drag was pretty clear .

" I almost left the band cause of them remember ? At that period Damiano and I had lots of small fights and arguments . "

Vic turned off the stove placing the food in plates skillfully.

" Hold up I need to give Y/N breakfast . " " Aight I'm waitin' . "

" Babes are you awake ? " The blond girl called out for her friend . Y/N was laying on her side of the bed , all the sheets and pillows where thrown in the corner of the room . She didn't wanted anything that smelled like Damiano near her . Instead she slept on bare mattress , Victoria's traveling pillow and she covered herself with the blanket from living room .

" I am not hungry yet , can you just please leave the plate here ? "

" Sure I'll be downstairs . Just call . "

No respond , she just closed the door behind her after glancing at Y/N last time .

Vic was cleaning the stinky apartment whole morning , it was not bothering her in fact . She knew Y/N would do the same for her .

" Tom you there ? " She cooed once her phone was in her grasp again . " Yeah yeah I was talking to Damiano . " " Is he alright ? " " I am not sure really . I think not obviously , but now after this I am not expecting anything normal from him ever again . " " Oh come on it was a - " " If you just dare to finish the sentence I will kill you . How can that be an accident ?? Rape is not an accident ! He was fully aware Victoria !! " " Pshh be quite you idiot ! " She tried hushing her friend after turning around herself paranoid like someone overheard their conversation .

" He is showering now don't worry . We should not be taking sides on this one but Vic .. He is not good for her ... Neither is she for him .. This is lasting for 3 years .. Remember ? "

" Don't fucking remind me . "

Silence . Both of them trying to understand the policy of their friends relationship .

" He threatened to kill himself so many times if she leaves him .. "

" She was so heartbroken each time that she was the one actually considering suicide . "

" I remember one time they had some huge fight as always and she came to my house in like 3 am crying and talking some nonsenses . "

" They never had a filter , especially around us , sometimes it gets just too tiring ya know ? "

" They made me and Ethan cry so many times Jesus Vic you have the biggest nerve here . " Her friend admitted with chuckle.

" Should we like ... talk to them each day and convince them to break up ? "

Deadly silence .

One was sure . Y/N and Damiano shouldn't ever be together again .

" Are we bad friends for doing this ? " " Pft please , we are doing service to everyone . "

" I am so confused and so worried for Y/N , I will talk to Damiano later and then call you to see if something improved and to update you . How is Y/N feeling now ? "

" Not so good bro , I think she is considering that breakup as well . Everything is still so confusing and not in order . "

" Alright Vic , gonna call later , bye love you . "

" Love you too bye . "

* meanwhile in Thomas house *

Thomas hanged up his half hour long conversation with Victoria . He rubbed his eyes hardly throwing the cellphone on the kitchen table where he was standing smoking .

To be honest he was also crying with Damiano last night . He couldn't imagine the amount of pain Y/N was suffering . His still pulsing bruised hand started to feel a bit better . He regretted only hitting Damiano , but they all knew he was the weakest out of all boys in the group .

Damiano was laying in his bed dressed in his chlotes fresh out of shower.

Crying again .

It was slowly starting to make Thomas mad .

' Why didn't he cry last night when he abused her? '

" Oi , whats the matter now ? Why are you crying again ? Cause you are an asshole or complete idiot ? " " Thomas shut the fuck up . I am not capable of having that conversation . " Damiano's voice was raspy and cracked .

" Well we are gonna have this conversation , in fact right now . Where where your tears last night when you raped her ? " " It wasn't ra -" " It was ! You fucked her without her consent ! What the fuck where you thinking ! "

" I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING ! "

He stood up from the bed crying his bottom lip shaking .

" I DON'T FUCKING KNOW ! I WAS MAD AT HER ! MICHAEL WAS THERE ! I HAD THE WORST SCENARIOS RUNNING THROUGH MY HEAD I GOT SCARED ! "

Thomas was in slight shock . Was Damiano really that dumb ?

" Are you serious ? I can't actually believe how selfish and egoistic you are . You raped my best friend because you got mad at her that her ex was there ? "

This was actually the first time in 3 years someones words affected Damiano about his behavior towards Y/N . He sat back on the bed holding his head in his hands .

" I took you in cause I care about you . You are my friend . But I will never forgive you this . You can stay here as much as you want but don't expect any special treatment from me . "

" Should I call her ? I must apologize . "

Thomas snorted .

" No . You must not apologize , you must beg her on your knees to forgive you . You must beg her to even look at you . I know I wouldn't if I was her . No matter what you do she will love you forever and that is the problem . "

Damiano was highly affected by his friends words. In his mind he was only picturing whimpering Y/N whose head he was holding down with his hand , her tears where soaked up on that backseat .

'I will rather die than look her in the eyes again.'

* meanwhile in Y/N's house *

" Are you sure I am not bothering ? I can always ask Thomas to stay with him ? " Y/N asked Victoria while both of them where packing some of Y/N's stuff in the suitcase .

" Yeah absolutely , we are going to spend some quality time healing and having fun . "

Y/N made her final decision , she was going to break up with Damiano this time for real .

She didn't have that much of her stuff , all the clothes , jewelry , letters , poems and all the other gifts she received from Damiano she placed in on huge box and left it on the center of their bed .

" Can I tell Thomas you are staying with me ? "

"Yes but alarm him not to tell Damiano .. I do not wanna hear a word from him . "

Vic simply nodded and in a less than an hour they where all packed leaving the past behind .

* three weeks later *

Things where only worse for our lovers .

Damiano heard no word from Y/N and neither did she from him .

She was expecting it to be honest .

Everyday was same as the other . Too long , too cold and filled with cigarette smoke .

All Y/N did was sometimes leave her room when she didn't wanted to offend Vic after putting effort into preparing the meal , she would listen to whatever record Victoria had , smoke all the cigarettes till she vomited , drink vodka away from her roommates sight and cry herself everyday regretting her whole relationship .

' He never fucking loved me .. I cheated on Michael with him just so he could fuck me over .. He never loved me .. He was just obsessed and he wanted me in his possession '

The fact Damiano didn't try reaching her was painful , it was providing sharp stings in her chest and it gave her headaches .

She saw him in every song , he was always on her mind . She wished she could delete all the memories and feelings just like she deleted the pictures . . .

Damiano was not much different than her .

He was also crying a lot , smoking a lot , not drinking but overthinking . He didn't knew Y/N moved out .. No one understood why it took him 3 weeks to try and reach her .

He didn't understood either .

He was trying to come up with the perfect apologize . He wanted to show her he was willing to do better . Willing to change . To prove her he was ready to change . He was sure that Y/N wouldn't return his calls . She understood her . He expected her to be mad and stubborn she had every reason to be .

Thomas was barely speaking to him . Only some formalities . Måneskin was put on hold their rehearsals , Vic and Thomas being very strict in their communication with Damiano while Ethan was very confused and unsure of what is going on .

Damianos mom and Y/N's parents also weren't included in the situation .

The day he planned on returning home , so sure that he would be greeted by her embrace , came .

He shaved his face for the first time in 3 weeks , he changed his underwear for the first time in 3 weeks , he wore simple suit and he drove all the way into the depths of the town to buy the most glorious flowers that his Y/N loved .

He wasn't planning on just winning her over with some flowers and gifts , or the dialog he practiced in his head and in front of his mirror .

Upon reaching the yard of their house he frowned . There was something different . Something wrong . .

He was walking slowly , looking all around himself , gripping the bouquet of flowers in his sweaty palm .

He stood in front of the door .

It was wrong . Something was wrong .

His mind scream . He hoped he was very paranoid once again .

His hand rose up to ring the door bell . He was nervous and afraid .

You are being worried for no reason .

He kept reasurinf himself.

So he rang .

Once

Twice

Four times . Four long times .

No one opened .

Was she home ? After all he came unannounced . Maybe she is sleeping ?

" Y/N! Y/N it's me ! Please open the door ! "

He was starting to sweat .

He searched with his shaking hands through his pocket to find the house keys . He unlocked the door . The house was empty and cold .

It was not smelling like her . Cause there was no one , she wasn't home . Not for an hour , not for the day , not here in a while .

He kept calling for her . " Y/N ! " He dropped the keys and flowers on the kitchen table .

He started roaming the house in panic . Even trying to sense some sort of smell . He was afraid she killed herself so his nose searched for the rotting corpse smell.

Every bad scenarios possible went through his head .

He ran towards their room . Empty .

Even their pets weren't there . She was gone .

Y/N left him . For real this time . For good .

He started to breath heavily . Tears forming in his eyes . The big box on their bed .

Inside of it all his gifts to her . All his clothes she loved wearing . He took one hoodie she often every time she was cleaning . He placed it under his nose . It still held her scent . Her ghost was there , in the shape of the memories one cardboard box held .

He was crying , repeating her name , calling it out . Kissing her dresses and watering them with tears .

He was on his own . There was no one he wanted more than her . He realized what he had once he lost it . He was alone for the first time .

taglist : @ella-nordstrm3 , @urskaa , @lovelysaltyland , @littleachaos , @whoreforhenrycavill , @13journals , @onceuponparrilla , @21nell , @davedace101 , @vainbimbo , @aliyeaz , @vandafabryova , @miriampraez , @foggyhottubcandy , @daringovangel , @inr89

#damiano david #damiano maneskin #maneskin #italy #zitti e buoni #eurosong #eurovision #eurovision 2021 #eurovision italy #victoria de an #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #fanfic #sad #romance #relationship #breakup #lovers

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fuckingthefictional · 4 years

Note

sorry to bother but i have a request, could you write a peter parker! x reader, with the reader being the protégé or adopted daughter of the strange doctor? I searched a lot but I didn't find

Must be magic.

Peter Parker x Strange!Reader

Requested: Yes by @celenajulie

A/N: hope you enjoy this! I tried my best- and there will be a part 2 out soon, where Y/N introduces Peter to her dad, stay safe out there! Xx

Y/N never knew her birth parents, she had only been a mere few hours old when she had been left outside of a New York orphanage.

The owners took her in, fed her and let her grow. She was a generally happy baby.

Until one day, a few months later, Y/N took a turn for the worst. She was no longer that happy girl with the gummy smile, she wasn’t herself.

She slept more, she cried more, she vomited more despite eating less and she didn’t interact with the social workers at the house like she used to. She just wasn’t herself.

Soon they found out why. Y/N had a brain tumour, the doctors called it pineoblastoma.

It was rare, it was aggressive and it was killing the young infant- causing her to waste away.

There were several options, the majority of which were expensive and risky. The staff at the orphanage were considering placing Y/N into the care of a hospice.

After all, time was limited and their options were coming to dead ends. What else could they do? They needed a miracle, a doctor something magical if Y/N was to survive and thrive again.

Christine Palmer loved her job, she loved the idea of caring and helping those who needed her support.

It didn’t matter what age, gender, sexuality or race someone was- she tried 110% to help them to the best of her ability.

Some said that she cared too much, Christine opted towards the fact that compassion was key in the medical industry. And anyone who lacked it, wasn’t cut out for this line of work.

Compassion was what lead Christine to Y/N.

God- she could still remember the first time she’d met the tiny girl.

It had been in the early hours of the morning, the rain had been hammering down for hours and all had been relatively quiet in ER.

Christine remembered going to the vending machine in the waiting room on her break, in hopes to get a snack.

What she hadn’t expected was to become involved in a small dispute. There had been a small altercation that she had decided to step in between.

It seemed to of been between one of the ladies at the front desk and a tall, slender woman- who Christine had at first assumed to be a wife or parent of a patient.

It wasn’t until the young woman inquired why the argument had begun that she finally understood and jumped into action.

“It’s one of the children that I care for, Y/N- last month we were here and she was diagnosed with a brain tumour, we’ve been getting treatment but she’s taken a turn for the worse.”

It was almost immediately that Nurse Palmer jumped into action and called for support on her pager.

It took mere seconds for a doctor to come forward with the required equipment and a portable bassinet to wheel the baby away in.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of Christine's head, she needed to call him. Just to be sure, to get support and a second opinion.

Without a second thought, she picked her phone from her scrub pocket and pressed the dial button, it rang for a second before a voice chimed through the other side.

“Christine it’s two in the morning.”

“You owe me that favour- come to the hospital now, I need support on a patient’s case.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Okay.” She paused, licking her lips. “And Stephen- thank you.”

It had been an ongoing gag between Stephen and Christine that he owed her a favour.

Ever since the incident in med school, Stephen vowed to give his friend one favour- whenever she needed it, whatever it was- he would be there.

That was why he was getting dressed into his scrubs at 2:30 in the morning (when his next shift didn’t start for another day) in order to help Christine with whatever it was she needed.

When Stephen arrived at the hospital he rushed to where Christine said to meet, Paediatric intensive care unit.

He strolled in, finding Christine sat on a chair next to a tiny infant, no less than a few months old, who was covered in fresh wires.

“She has pineoblastoma.” She explained softly, “You’re the only one I know who can operate and get positive results on this sort of thing.”

Stephen nodded, formulating a plan in his head as he read the baby’s case file.

The poor child had been through a lot in her first few months of life it seemed.

And the doctor didn’t know it yet - but he would soon become her proper family, and give her the life she deserved.

It was weird being the daughter of a master of the mystic realm. Like really weird. Nothing was ever ‘normal’ in her life.

Travelling to the grocery store? Her dad would simply use his sling ring.

Wouldn’t get out of bed? The cloak of levitation would drag her out if her dad willed it.

Wanted a slice of pizza? Sure- Wong would just conjure one up.

She lived in the New York Sanctum Sanctorum for crying out loud that didn’t exactly scream normal!

The only thing that may have been normal was her school life, Midtown school of science was perfect for Y/N.

She took after her father on that, she was smart and bright and loved to learn.

In fact, there had been many occasions growing up that she had been caught under the covers, flashlight in hand, reading her dad's old medical school textbooks.

But just because she was bright, didn’t mean that she made friends easily. Being smart often meant she was teased by her peers- it didn’t help that her last name was Strange either.

She had some friends on the debate team (MJ being one of them) and she talked to Peter and Ned too sometimes.

But half the time Y/N avoided it, after all, she’d rather not listen to her long term crush go on and on about how he loved the most popular girl in school.

It was painful- that stuff hurt. And every time she thought she’d taken a step forwards toward him he’d take three more back.

“Miss Strange?”

Y/N focused back in on the whiteboard, in front of which stood the extremely unimpressed bio teacher.

“Pardon?”

“The answer Miss Strange?” The teacher turned around, marker poised ready to write down her answer on the board for the class to see.

Thankfully MJ was up to date and mouthed the question number across the room. Looking down at the sheet in front of her she found the relevant question.

‘Name an example of a gene pool.’

“A population with a known proportion of A, B and O blood groups would be an example of a relevant gene pool.”

The teacher looked unimpressed at the fact that Y/N had been ‘listening’, “That is correct.” He cleared his throat, “Now before this lesson ends, I will be handing out these assignment sheets that are to be used for your upcoming projects- yes, you will be doing them with your lab partner. No-you cannot switch.”

Fuck that meant Peter was going to be Y/N’s partner. Double fuck. That meant spending time alone with him.

While Y/N pondered in her doom, the lunch bell rang and everyone moved around her as they packed up and left the classroom.

“Hey erm Y/N?”

The teenager’s head snapped up, only to come face to face with Peter.

“Peter!” She yelped, “Hi.”

The boy laughed breathily, “Hi, listen since we’re buddy’s on this project i was wondering when you were next free- Y’know to do the project?”

Y/N tucked some stray hairs behind her ears, “Oh I’m free whenever,” she ripped the corner of one of her pages off and scribbled down her number, “This is my number in case you need to call me.”

“Cool,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I should get going- it was nice talking.”

“Yeah of course,” she nodded happily, “I’ll see you later.”

Mere minutes later there was a beep coming from Y/N’s pocket, she fished around in her pocket in an attempt to find her phone.

‘Hey this is peter, are you free to make a start on the project afterschool?’

She typed a quick response back, ‘Sure, where were you thinking?’

‘The library is probably most convenient right?’

‘Okay cool, I’ll see you later.’

By the end of the day, Y/N found herself practically bouncing at the idea of spending time with Peter alone.

She’d managed to snag a table and the required textbooks that they’d need. But minutes turned into hours and there was no sight of the boy that Y/N was falling for.

He’d stood her up.

Or at least that’s what Y/N had initially thought. but as the clock struck half-past five, she was aware that it was time she made her way home.

Despite his no show, the bright girl was almost entirely finished with the first half of the project.

She was in the process of exiting the library’s doors when she heard the familiar laugh paired with a high pitched giggle.

“Seriously though- Thanks for helping me with Chem.” The female voice countered, “I’d be lost without you.”

Y/N was flat backed to the cool, red bricks that made up the library building. Listening in to what was being said.

“No problem Liz,” Peter laughed nervously, Y/N could almost imagine the awkward neck rub that he did whenever he laughed like that, “I really enjoyed it- I-I’m glad I could help.”

So it was Liz that Peter stood her up with. Ouch- that stung.

The sorcerer's daughter felt tears drip down her cheeks, she sniffled quietly and kicked off the wall brushing past Peter and Liz briskly.

But all she could hear was Peter’s voice calling behind her. Shouting desperately for her to stop and let him explain.

But she did what she knew best, she went home to her family.

The next few days fell victim to the onslaught of messages that Peter sent to Y/N via text.

Even the sounds of her phone buzzing were beginning to set Y/N on edge. Especially since she knew that the notification coming through would be from Peter, begging to let him ‘explain.’

But once more in true Strange fashion, Y/N worked and worked and worked. Until the bio project was finished- almost four weeks in advance.

The way she saw it was that If the work had been completed, then there was no real to hang out with Peter ever again.

He, however, didn’t seem to have the same idea. As 3 weeks later on Monday, Peter had resorted to cornering the girl in the school's supply closet.

He didn’t want to do it, but Y/N gave him no choice. Peter had to explain himself.

“Peter- what the hell?” Y/N yelped, she was beyond pissed at this point.

“You haven’t been returning my texts and calls,” he shrugged, “I need to explain myself.”

“Like hell you do.” She spat, “Look it doesn’t matter, I’ve finished the damn project- we don’t need to see each other again.”

Peter looked shocked and there was hurt in his eyes, “Y/N...”

“What do you want me to say, Peter? That I’m not hurt?” She pursed her lips to stop the tears from leaking, “You left me for hours in the library all while you were having fun with Liz- how is that fair?”

“Please don’t cry,” He whispered, pulling her into his body in an embrace, “I can’t stand it when you cry.”

“You left me alone Peter!” She fought against his embrace, “Like everyone in my life!”

Peter held Y/N against him, rubbing her back and shushing her. Trying anything to bring her calm.

“I got nervous.”

Y/N lifted her head, “What?”

“I got nervous- I’ve- I’ve liked you for forever y’know. I was outside the library for 10 minutes willing myself to go in.” He laughed softly, “But every time I saw you sat there- I just froze.”

The young girl looked up in shock, “But-But Liz?”

“I was about to get reprimanded for loitering, she got me out of the situation. I was going to call you but my phone died.”

Y/N didn’t realise how close together they were until their foreheads touched and their noses bumped.

It felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. It was ironic really because when they finally met in a kiss it felt like all time had stopped.

She could feel every touch on her cheeks, his hair and how it ran through her fingers, how minty he smelt. Everything stood still and for a few moments, you had everything you’d ever wanted in the palm of your hand.

What Y/N had failed to notice was the glowing golden portal that had appeared in the supply closet- even worse the thoroughly unimpressed man standing through it.

“Y/N Strange you are so dead!”

“Shit!”

#mcu #marvel #stephen strange #doctor strange #strange!daughter #strange!reader #peterparkerxreader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peterparker #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #tomholland #tom holland #benedict cumberbatch #spiderman #request

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ma-gic-gay · 3 years

Note

Death had always been a finite concept. For both of them, presumably, but especially for Carly. Death was something she had to deal with far too regularly for her tastes (comes with the territory when you have a habit of marrying mobsters), despite her hatred of it.

Shootings, she could handle. And did, shockingly well. Despite the fact she couldn't handle being in a stable situation for more than a day, she was great in a crisis.

Of course, the fact she had Jason there was helpful. She felt unsafe, she called him and it was like she had her own personal body guard. It was, in a very strange way, nice to know he wouldn't hesitate to kill for her and has done it repeatedly in the past.

The deaths of the people who tried to kill her (or him, especially him- she prayed those bastards got the worst treatment they could) were the only ones she could handle.

It's a bit ironic she got killed from a shooting, three hours and twenty three minutes after Jason died, in a weird way. She always said she'd kill for him (realistically she knew he'd lose his shit if she ever did that because he's overprotective and hasn't taught her how to use a gun), and that's exactly what she did. He got shot right in front of her, she grabbed his gun while he was yelling at her not to and shot the person.

Slight problem though, she too got shot. Whoopsie daisies.

Getting shot fucking hurt. She was in and out of consciousness when she was at the hospital and no one would tell her about Jason's condition. They were married, for fuck's sakes, why the fuck wasn't anyone telling her how her husband was doing?!

Eventually, someone (probably Monica, she can't remember) told her he was dead. They got to him too late, they said, he'd been doa and their best efforts hadn't revived him.

After hearing that, she couldn't live with herself. He got shot because Vince was trying to shoot her and off he went to be her hero and make everything okay and he got killed. One phone call and he was at the Metro Court, hanging out with her and keeping watch when he noticed Vince in the parking lot and went out there to confront him. Vince pointed a gun at Carly and, of course, since Jason's a self sacrificing person, he died.

Which meant she was directly responsible for his death and that rocked her to her very core. She'd failed him. After twenty five years, she failed him. Even he'd have to admit this one. There was no spin on this (and she'd heard some strange ones over the years) for how she'd be able to live with herself after she failed him. It wasn't like she'd done something stupid, no, she got him killed. Carly knew he'd do something, especially since Vince was a dick, and she told him. Did he deserve to know? Yes. But only after she'd reassured his overprotective streak she'd be fine and he didn't have to kill anyone else for her.

According to something she'd heard from the doctors, in whatever fucking limbo this was, Carly had died of a heart attack. Likely brought on by stress. Bullets were fine but hearing of Jason's death killed her.

Yup, makes sense. Well, she'll be able to apologize for all of eternity once she gets to wherever she's going. Even after he forgives her (which, she's being honest, will happen as soon as they see each other), she's going to apologize and apologize.

Ooh, she gets to see Sonny and Morgan too! Her son and husband and best friend for all of eternity. What could be better?

There's something that vaguely looks like an angel and she notices it drags her up. Huh, guess she's going to heaven. Makes sense, Carly's a fairly good person. She's not a terrible one.

Except when she gets there she only finds Morgan and Courtney (Courtney, oh how she missed her), no Jason anywhere. Where the hell was he? Avoiding a party, probably. She has got to get him to go out more, especially now that nothing can probably happen. What are the rules of death?

"Where's Jason?" Carly asks after greeting the pair. They stare blankly until she asks again, "Where is he? He's here, right? I was told he's dead!"

Courtney's the first one to be stunned out of her shock. "Carly, he, um, didn't make the cut."

"For what? Give me that list, I'm adding his name at the very top. Where the fuck is he?" She exclaims. He's here, he's got to be here.

"You're aware of his job, right?" Is she aware of his job, of course she is!

"Yes, Courtney, it's why we got married. Where the hell is he? Or Sonny, or Mike!"

"Mike's taking a nap and Sonny's not dead." What?! "Or, if he is, he didn't make the cut either." Didn't make the cut for what? Carly will scheme, steal, seduce, lie and cheat go get those two up here with her, where the fuck are they?

"Because of Jason's job and the amount of people he killed, he didn't make the cut to heaven. He's in hell." Is it possible to die twice? She might just do that. He's in hell, which is a place for bad people! Her hero is in hell.

She's gonna kill someone. "I'm not perfect! None of us are perfect, I killed someone! Why the hell aren't we down there? He died defending me!"

"Shocking," Morgan says dryly. "Jason killed people for a living. He was a mobster."

"And I'm an accessory to all of that! I lead the mob for a week or two!" Carly exclaims. "He's a good person, we know that."

"We're not in charge of the decisions, Carly," Courtney attempts to comfort her best friend. It's a nice attempt. "That's for people with a lot more clout than us. If it was up to either of us, I promise he'd be here but you'll never see him again."

Never see him again? Oh hell no. "Is there any way to get sent down to hell with him?" This is impulsive and reckless and Jason wouldn't encourage it but she's got less care. She needs to see her best friend again, goddammit."Some paperwork I can file, some people's husband's I can seduce?"

"Someone can submit you for reevaluation."

"Great! Is Emily here?" Emily hates her, she'll surely want to help!

"Somewhere, yeah. Why?"

"Emily hates me. Can't blame her. Anyways, look, I want to help her write my reevaluation. I've ruined a lot of lives."

"Which Jason has always helped you feel better about."

"That's because he's my best friend, Morgan."

The next few weeks are spent making sure every single one of her transgressions is on the list and resubmitting her,,, whatever the hell it's called, Emily never gave details.

So it's really not a surprise when she's dragged down to hell by some gross creature, waving goodbye to her son and Courtney and sister in law (that's a weird thing to think about).

And when she gets there, it's just like a darker version of heaven. It's the same fucking place (away from the fire), just more her color palette. Weird.

"Excuse me, where's Jason Morgan?" She asks the creature who dragged her down here. "I was informed he'd be down here."

A shrug is all she gets in response. Well then, she's able to roll with the punches and searches up and down for him, eventually finding him in a room without decorations or anything but basic necessities.

She's got some decorating on her hands.

Carly walks right through the half opened door (he really didn't lock it? Weirdo) and gets the response of, "Get out."

"Don't expect me to start knocking just because we're dead," she quips, a smile on her face. Knocking is overrated. He looks normal and as he registers what's going on, he gets all squinty.

Once he actually realizes it's her, she's already half attacked him in a hug that he reciprocates. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Little bit of bargaining, Emily's assistance and voila! You'd be amazed at how many bad things I've done. Everyone sends their love, of course. Are there any stores down here? This room is so boring," she changes the subject.

"No, I mean why are you dead? You're supposed to be alive."

"I died three hours and twenty three minutes after you. Heart attack. Monica told me about you dying. No one else would." That was a very bad time when he was dead and she wasn't.

"Does this mean-"

"No, you are not responsible for my death. If anything, I'm responsible for yours. I'm sorry, more than you'll ever know," Carly tells him, eyes welling up with tears.

"You're not responsible. I got shot. It happens." Way too nonchalant for death.

"Because you were defending me, like always. Seriously, take a nice vacation off of that and start using your survival instincts. I don't have Emily to help me this time if I need to transfer afterlives."

"I was defending the business."

"Bullshit. I told you Vince threatened me and you already planned to kill him. You saw your opportunity and instead of shooting him, you got shot and died. This is my fault, 100%, and I will not let you make me feel better about this. You could've patched things up with Britt, hung out with a bunch of people but no, you had to die protecting me. Take a week off of being my hero, please."

"I'm not going to do that. The last time I thought about it, you took over the business."

"Well I can't just ask you to forgive me, so take a day off."

"You'll get kidnapped. And I don't hold you responsible because it was my choice to defend you and my choice to want to kill Vince."

"You're overprotective and it's nice but not when it kills you."

"You spent twenty five years running off every woman in my life because you were convinced they'd hurt me, you hated a ton of people because they did something to me and you almost committed several felonies. And I'm overprotective," he rolls his eyes.

"Not the point, first off and second, you've killed and kidnapped for me. In a very fucked up way, it's sweet. And you totally ran off the men in my life!"

"How did I do that?"

"By being the only person I can depend on. I don't know, look, they've all- except for Sonny, most of the time- hated you because you intimidated them. So you did the same thing, just not on purpose."

"Then it's not the same thing."

"How did we get so off topic? I'm sorry for being the reason you're dead. Do you forgive me?" Strange sentences.

"You're not why I'm dead, I made that choice-"

"You chose to die?"

"I meant the choice to jump in front of you."

"Which was instinctual, you've always protected me."

"Might have to do that even more down here. There's some real creeps."

"I really don't think they'll care that much. But okay."

"Vince is here."

"No revenge."

"He killed you and I'm just supposed to sit here and ignore that he did that?!"

"Maybe we can talk this all out."

"Carly, what part of this aren't you understanding? He killed you. I hurt him, that's how this works, so he knows better than to mess with you."

"Or we could go shop for decor. I'll pick out nice stuff, come on let's go!"

"I'm not going shopping. I'm planning revenge."

"It'll be safer if you're there with me."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Love you too."

"Love you."

The end fuckers :)

oh it's beautiful. thank you for this

#tw guns #tw gunshot #tw shooting #swear tw #hospital tw #death tw

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emospritelet · 5 years

Note

DH remix prompt 14 "why the hell didn't you tell me?"

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [AO3]

Last time, Gold sought some legal advice and Belle prepared for their next meeting by talking things over with Emma. They were both given good advice so that means they’re gonna be sensible about things, right?

Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

Belle managed to get through a day of college without any issues, and at three p.m. she headed back into her old neighbourhood, and to the diner where she worked. She explained that she had to leave at seven due to an appointment connected to her pregnancy, and the manager gave her a long, appraising look that made her sigh. She had already taken time off in the early days when morning sickness had been a problem. Ed wasn’t known for his tolerance of absenteeism, or his treatment of his waitresses, and she suspected he was close to firing her. Jasmine, one of the other waitresses, immediately offered to stay to cover the rest of her shift, which made him nod slowly and wander off to the kitchen, and Belle heaved a sigh of relief before thanking Jasmine profusely. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to lose the one source of income she had.

By the time she left the diner she was sticky with sweat and her feet ached. The rain had grown heavier again, so she ducked into a nearby deli to try and wait it out, and to purchase a few items that she had noticed Gold hadn’t picked up. He’d done pretty well with the groceries, from what she had seen, but she didn’t have any hot chocolate powder, or the thick yogurt that she liked, or peppermint tea to settle her stomach when the baby was kicking. She was sure that if she mentioned it, he would get her anything she wanted, but she didn’t want to ask anything more of him, and so she wandered the deli aisles, breathing in the comforting scent of fresh bagels and ground coffee as she made her choices with what remained of last week’s wages.

Purchases made and packed into a large paper bag, she was dismayed to find that the rain had only grown heavier. It was also further to the new apartment than she had appreciated, and she hurried along the sidewalks, head down and her umbrella keeping the worst of the rain from her. The wind was trying to get through her coat, and she shivered as icy fingers traced her cheeks and whipped around her legs. A truck passed at speed, veering too close to the sidewalk, ploughing through the deep puddles that were collecting and sending a sheet of water over her. Belle choked, stopped in her tracks by the shock of it. Cold water dripped down her face, and she spat, blinking furiously.

“You bastard!” she shouted, glaring after the truck as its red tail lights sped away from her.

She was drenched, her legs soaking and cold water seeping through the shoulders of her coat. It was pointless to keep using the umbrella, and so she furled it, tucking it under her arm and hugging the paper bag of groceries to her chest in case it started falling apart. Her boots squelched as she walked, water pooling underneath her feet inside them, and she winced at the unpleasant sensation. By the time she reached the apartment building she was drenched, and ready to burst into tears of anger and frustration. Marco, the concierge, immediately hurried to the door to meet her as she stumbled inside.

“Here, here, let me help you!” he exclaimed, picking up a packet of tea bags grown soggy with rainwater.

“I’m fine,” lied Belle. “What time is it?”

“Five past eight,” he said. “You sure you don’t need help? You look frozen! It’s not good for the little one, no?”

“Nothing a nice cup of tea won’t fix,” she said.

Marco smiled broadly, but she bit her lip as she remembered it was what her mother, dead for many years, had always said. Colette had been kind and gentle, with a ready smile and a warm embrace, and Belle wished she was there to tell her what to do.

“Here, let me at least call the elevator,” he said, and pushed the button for her, the doors sweeping open with a soft ping.

Belle leaned back against the wall with a sigh, letting the warmth wash over her as the elevator travelled upwards. It was past eight o’clock. Gold would be there. She wished she hadn’t agreed to meet again so soon. She wondered if there would ever be a time when she wasn’t looking like a young woman so completely out of her depth. She was willing to bet a truck hadn’t drenched him with water. It probably wouldn’t dare.

Sure enough, when the elevator opened its doors and she stepped out into the corridor, gripping the sodden groceries, he was standing outside her apartment door, looking as calm and immaculate as ever. It made her want to scream. His eyebrows climbed upwards at the sight of her, which only angered her more.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” she snapped, rummaging for her key. “This place is further from work than I thought, and I got drenched!”

“You should have called.”

“God, I’m so sorry you had to wait outside the apartment for all of five minutes!”

She opened the door, barging inside and stomping to the kitchen to deposit the disintegrating bag on the counter. She could hear the tap of his cane as he followed her.

“I simply meant that if you had called, I would have picked you up,” he said calmly.

Belle leaned on the counter, letting her head drop.

“Oh.”

Water was dripping from the ends of her hair, droplets splashing on the counter top, and she felt him step nearer, his closeness like an itch between her shoulder blades, a creeping tightness in her lower belly.

“Go and take a shower,” he said. “I’ll put the groceries away.”

“No, I can do it!” she insisted, pushing up again and turning to face him.

“Of course you can,” he said flatly. “But you’re soaked through and freezing, so it makes sense to go and take a hot shower, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her mouth worked. She wanted him to snap back at her, so she had an excuse to yell. More of an excuse than he had already given her, anyway. Why did he have to be so fucking reasonable? Damn him!

“Fine,” she said stiffly, and stomped off again, grabbing her robe and nightshirt from the bedroom and locking the bathroom door behind her.

She spent a long time in the shower, letting the hot water course over her, enjoying the heat that sank into her body. Once she was done, she wrapped her hair in a towel and began massaging cocoa butter into her skin, concentrating on her belly and breasts and finishing with long sweeps along her arms. Her reflection was blurred, the mirror covered in condensation, but she towel-dried her hair and brushed it out before pulling on the soft jersey nightshirt and wrapping herself in the robe. Battered sheepskin booties kept her feet snug, still warm and cosy despite their age. Not exactly her best look, but it wasn’t as though she was trying to seduce him, even if she could. She remembered the nights she had spent with Gold, when she had worn silk underwear edged with lace, and he had kissed every inch of her body as he took it off her. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Sighing to herself, she opened up the bathroom door. There was a savoury smell drifting from the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. So. He’s cooked.

Gold glanced around as she entered the kitchen, stirring something in a pan. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking as though he belonged in the kitchen, a stark reminder that this was his apartment, not hers. She remembered the times he had cooked for her before at his home in Storybrooke, when he had served up dinner on that big old dining room table, and afterwards he had stretched her out and made her the dessert. She swallowed hard, shoving the memory away.

“Take a seat,” he said. “I guessed that you wouldn’t have eaten, so I thought I’d make dinner. You don’t mind?”

Belle shrugged, sitting down at the table. He had laid two places and set out glasses of water, and there was a bowl of dressed salad and a dish of grated parmesan in the middle of the table. She could smell fried garlic, tomatoes and pungent herbs, and wondered what he was making. It would be good, she had no doubt of that. Gold always made good food. The bastard.

She watched as he turned off the heat and began dishing up, bringing two large bowls to the table. Penne pasta with a rich, thick sauce made with onions, garlic and tomatoes, basil and oregano and pieces of italian sausage. Her mouth watered, and she scooped parmesan onto it and dug in, the tomatoes sweet and sharp, the sauce rich with olive oil and melting fat from the sausage. There was a spicy kick from some fresh chilli, and she speared pieces of pasta, loading them with sauce and shoving them into her mouth with unladylike enthusiasm. Gold ate more slowly, watching her as she sat back and added some salad to her bowl. It was a good match, the vinaigrette dressing a sharp contrast to the rich sauce. She took a drink of water, spearing a piece of sausage on her fork.

“So,” he said evenly. “You said the baby was due on the fifth of May.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Not exactly,” she said. “There’s a clinic near my old apartment that provided free prenatal care.”

“I see.” His fork dug into the pasta, stabbing and piercing. “I’ll get you better care. When’s your next appointment?”

“Next week.”

“Let me make some calls.”

“Knock yourself out.”

If he was irritated by her offhand tone, he didn’t react. Belle loaded more pasta onto her fork, shoving it into her mouth and chewing. Gold glanced up at her, dark eyes weighing, measuring.

“What has the doctor said?” he asked. “Is the baby alright?”

She swallowed, putting down her fork and reaching for the water to take a sip.

“Yeah, the baby’s fine,” she said. “Developing as expected, no problems on that front.”

“You’ve had scans?” he pressed. “Ultrasounds?”

“Yes,” she said evenly. “They confirm the baby is fine, as I said. Totally human, which given its parentage was something of a surprise.”

He didn’t rise to that, and she poked at her food, feeling his eyes on her, as though he was judging her, and finding her wanting. It was making her irritable.

“And you?” he said. “You look thinner. Are you eating enough?”

“I spent months throwing up, and I study and work every hour I’m not sleeping,” she said shortly. “I try to take care of myself as much as I can, but it turns out growing a person is hard fucking work, okay?”

“I’m not sure how my words were taken as a criticism, but alright,” he said dryly, and she sighed, dropping her fork and running her hands over her face, her appetite gone.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a long day, I had the shittiest journey back here, and I’m pretty sure the diner manager is gonna fire me any day now.”

“You don’t need to work,” he said. “You certainly don’t need to work in a bloody diner, I told you that. If you need money I can give you money.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to keep what’s left of my independence, if it’s all the same to you,” she muttered.

Gold put down his fork, sitting back and looking irritated.

“Do you have to be so bloody stubborn?” he demanded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I know!” she snapped. “I know you are, and I know I need your help, but I don’t want to need your help, don’t you get that?”

“Well, what you want is not my concern,” he said, reaching for his water again. “What’s important here is what’s best for you, and for the child. Speaking of which, I want a paternity test.”

She felt her eyes widen.

“You want what?”

“I want a paternity test,” he repeated. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

Belle sat back, mouth open in outrage.

“You - you don’t believe me?”

“It’s not a question of whether I believe you,” he said coldly. “It’s simply the fact that I know nothing about your life since you left Storybrooke. For all I know you were fucking half of Boston.”

She wanted to slap his face, and so she pushed away from the table, storming through to the lounge and pacing back and forth. She heard the scrape of chair legs as he followed.

“Is this you refusing to do the test?” he asked, from over her shoulder, and she whirled to face him.

“Oh no, I’ll do the test,” she snapped. “And when it’s positive you can bloody well apologise to me!”

“For what?”

“For suggesting that I sleep around!” she said hotly. “Not that it’s any of your business! Why do you even care what I do?”

“I don’t,” he said coolly. “But if you’re going to claim this child is mine, I care that’s it not in fact the spawn of some musclebound beer-swilling moron.”

“Right, because that’s so the type I usually go for…”

Gold rolled his eyes.

“And more importantly, because my lawyer advised it,” he drawled. “So perhaps we can dispense with the emotional outbursts.”

“Fuck you, Gold.”

“Some other time, perhaps.” He looked at his fingernails. “My lawyer also advised that if we want to come to an arrangement, I needed to find out a little more about your life. Are you in a relationship?”

Belle folded her arms, raising her chin.

“I’m not telling you that,” she said, and his jaw tightened.

“May I ask why not?”

“Because you lost the right to ever question me about my private life when you broke up with me,” she snapped. “It’s none of your business who I date.”

“And if the person you’re seeing is a threat to my child, what then?”

“If they’re a threat to our child, they’re out of the picture,” she said flatly. “What about you? Is your life just an endless series of meaningless hook-ups with whatever Storybrooke has to offer? How can I be sure you’d take care of our child when it was your turn, huh? Not like you have actual human feelings, is it?”

His eyes gleamed, and she felt a traitorous lurch in her belly at the sight of it.

“Don’t think you can derail this conversation!” he said sharply. “I’m still waiting for an explanation as to how I’m only finding out I’m to be a father two months before the baby’s due!”

“That’s - that’s not—”

“Was there a problem?” he went on. “I know sometimes the - the signs aren’t always there, so was it that? Did you only find out recently, or something?”

“What, you think I was out partying and drinking shots and all of a sudden it was ‘whoops, my pants don’t fit’?” she asked sarcastically.

“Well, I’ve no fucking idea, because you didn’t tell me!” he snapped, his accent thickening with his anger. “How long have you known?”

Belle shifted awkwardly, and he took a step forward, his eyes darkening.

“How long?”

“Five months,” she muttered. Gold’s eyes widened in outrage.

“Five months?” He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks making a wet, clapping noise against his teeth. “Five fucking months?”

“And three days,” she added sulkily.

“And I’m only finding out now?”

“Looks like it, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, anger making his voice rise. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Why do you think?” She put her hands on her hips. “Given how you broke up with me, you really have to ask that?”

He blinked rapidly, gesturing between them.

“Oh, so - so this was punishment, is that it?”

“No!” she insisted. “I wasn’t punishing you, I just - I didn’t know what to say!”

“How about ‘I’m pregnant with your child’?” he snapped, making his fingers dance in the air. “Five words, Belle! Five little words and I would have come fucking running!”

“How would I know that?” she asked, throwing up her hands. “Which of the terrible things you said to me would ever suggest you’d care?”

He snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and she knew she had scored a hit. She took a step closer, raising her chin.

“Go on,” she said. “What was it? Was it when you said you’d taken everything I had to offer? Was it when you told me I was - was too much effort for too little reward?”

“Stop that!” he hissed, his eyes flashing.

“Was it when you said that you’d prefer a gourmet meal but you’d take the fucking two-dollar take-out if I was offering it on a plate?” she spat. “Was that it?”

“Stop it!”

“I won’t!” she shouted. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To have the person you love spit such - such venom at you? Do you have any idea how damaging that is?”

He glanced away, swallowing hard, and she nodded, sagging a little.

“You do know,” she whispered. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He was silent, and she felt rage swell inside her, rage and hurt and frustration.

“How dare you!” she snapped. “Why did you do it?”

“You know why!” he growled.

His eyes were glinting darkly, his chest heaving, and she felt her mouth fall open, realisation hitting hard enough to make her gasp. Her mouth twisted, and she shook her head.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know why. Because you’re a coward.”

His jaw tightened, his breath quickening.

“No,” he said, the word falling from his lips with soft menace. He was rattled, and it made her want to laugh in triumph. She took a step closer, raising her chin so that her eyes met his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “You’re a coward. You pushed me away because you started to feel something, am I right?”

He was almost close enough to touch, close enough that she could smell his cologne, that she could feel the heat from him. It was as though sparks filled the air, dancing between them, making her hair rise and her skin tingle. Gold leaned in, his lips drawing back over his teeth in a grimace.

“Don’t try to analyse me, dear,” he growled.

“Oh, I don’t need to,” she said. “I just need to remember everything I’ve read about useless, commitment-shy arseholes with intimacy issues!”

“I suppose I should be more like you, should I?” he demanded. “Just clinging to the first person to come along because you can’t bear to be alone?”

“You know nothing about my life!”

“And you know nothing about mine!”

His nose was almost brushing hers, and she could sense that he was trying to intimidate her, to make her back down. It only made her want to stand her ground. She stared up at him, watching his chest heave and feeling his cool breath against her lips. Her heart was thudding hard in her chest, her pulse throbbing all the way down between her legs, and she licked her lips, watching his eyes briefly follow the path of her tongue. She felt a surge of desire for him, a need to touch him, to taste him. To know whether all she had felt for him was real.

It only took her rising up on her toes, hand stroking over his shoulder, her lips brushing against his, and his mouth slammed against hers. His lips pushed hers apart, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, letting out a moan as she tasted him. Gold let out a rumbling groan, one hand sinking into her damp curls as he pushed her back against the nearest wall. Her belly was pressing into him, and he jerked back almost immediately, their lips parting with a smacking sound, his breath hot against her mouth. Belle grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him back to her and kissing him hard, and he let his cane fall to the side, his hands sweeping over her hips and grasping her rear.

She raked her hands through his hair, the unfamiliar feel of short strands tickling her fingers. Her touch pulled a deep growl from him, a low, bass tone that rumbled through her body, and she slid her hands down over his chest, dropping to the belt of the robe at her waist. Tugging it open, she scrabbled at his belt with shaking hands, her kiss grown hard and desperate. Gold was cupping her face with both hands, fingers sinking into her hair and sending shivers through her as his tongue pushed into her mouth, and she got the belt open with a clinking sound, flicking open his fly and reaching in to feel the hard length of his cock, cradled in silk.

Gold groaned into her mouth, and Belle squeezed him, cheeks flushing as she remembered exactly how good it felt to have him inside her. His hands slid down her body, pushing beneath the hem of her nightshirt and shoving it up over her hips, and he reached between her legs, fingers stroking her and releasing a rush of fluid. She pulled her mouth from his, head thudding back against the wall, letting out a cry of pleasure as his thumb rubbed over her clit. Gold trailed his mouth down her neck, making shivers ripple through her as he bit down, and she moaned, squeezing his cock, feeling his tongue sweep over her skin as his fingers pushed deep inside her.

Gold sucked on her throat, his tongue swirling against the place where her pulse throbbed, hard and heavy. He could feel her clenching around his fingers as he rubbed at her, her flesh like wet silk, his body humming with the need to be inside her, to sink into her, to feel her come all around him. Her hands were shaking as she grasped his shoulders and pushed him back a little, his fingers slipping from her with a wet, sucking sound. He thought perhaps she wanted him to stop, and he pulled back, but then her mouth was on his neck, nipping at his skin, her hands scrabbling at his pants and underwear and pushing them down over his hips.

This was a bad idea. This was a bad, stupid, terrible idea. This would solve absolutely nothing, and would probably make everything worse. He knew that, and he almost said so, almost pushed her away and stopped her, stopped himself. But then she grasped his cock in her hand and stroked him hard and ran her tongue up his throat, and he smothered that tiny voice at the back of his brain, that tiny shrieking voice that might have been what passed for a conscience. He smothered it and silenced it and pushed wet fingers through her hair as he kissed her thoroughly, tasting the sweetness of her one last time.

She pushed at him, and he stumbled, falling heavily to the thick rug, his head thumping against the floor and making him groan. There was a sharp lance of pain through his leg, and he closed his eyes, grimacing, but Belle had straddled him, heat and wetness pressing against him, and he opened his eyes as she took him in hand. The robe was open, the jersey nightshirt clinging to her rounded belly and the swell of her breasts, her dark, damp curls framing her face. She was utterly beautiful, and for a moment he was breathless, transfixed by the sight of her.

He stroked his hands up her pale thighs, and she rocked her hips, rubbing herself along his length, coating him with her juices, bathing him in her heat. Gold let out a groan at the feel of her, and she sank down onto him with a long, slow movement, taking him deep inside, scalding him. He threw his head back with a hoarse cry as he pushed his hips upwards, and she moaned in response, hands braced on his belly, gripping the silk of his shirt.

Being inside her was delicious, incredible, and he gripped her hips as she began to rock against him, her movements swift and hard and urgent. She rode him like she hated him, and he imagined she did after what he had done, but the feel of her was making him see stars, the heat and friction building in a tight ball of pleasure that was starting to swell and grow, waiting to burst. He could feel it rise up through his body, making his skin tingle and his cock grow rigid. Belle’s movements quickened, her body rubbing against him as her hips pumped, her head rolling back to expose the pale length of her throat, the curves of her breasts and belly pushing against the nightshirt. She was glorious. A goddess.

He was near his peak, he knew it, and he wanted to hold off, to remain inside her, to feel the pull of her against him as she chased her own pleasure. He wanted to feel her come all around him, and he could sense that she was close, her flesh clenching and fluttering, her muscles growing taut where her thighs gripped his sides. She whimpered, her pace quickening, and he felt her come hard, a cry bursting from her. The muscles of his lower belly bunched as his shoulders rose up off the floor, a groaning gasp coming from his lungs as stars burst in his vision, blinding him. He came with a shout, his cock pulsing and spurting inside her, wet flesh tugging at his, and he fell back against the rug with a thump, pleasure washing over him as her movements slowed and stopped.

Gold let his head thud against the floor, licking dry lips as his heart thumped hard in his chest. The pleasure was dissipating, draining out of him and leaving him somehow cold and hollow, and he tried to slow his breathing, to calm himself. Belle pulled up off him, not meeting his eyes, and he watched as she got to her feet and backed away, tugging her nightshirt down before stumbling to the bathroom.

Gold sighed heavily, running his hands over his face, his fingers still sticky, heady with the scent of her. His cane lay some distance off, so he crawled over to it and used it to push himself to his feet. He straightened his clothing, rolling his sleeves back down, fastening his cufflinks and pulling on his jacket again. Replacing his armour, his protective layers, his shield against the world. He had been a fool to ever let it go. He had been a fool to touch her.

He felt better when he was fully dressed, and zipped his fly, buckling his belt as he heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. His skin was still tingling from his orgasm, from the thrill of being inside her, the taste of her in his mouth. Straightening the knot of his tie, he licked his lips as he tried to calm his heavy breathing, and looked around as the bathroom door opened.

Belle was a little flushed, her dark curls awry, the scent of herbal soap coming from her and the robe wrapped tight around her once more. There was a dark bruise on her pale neck where he had bitten her, and it made guilt gnaw at him, even as he felt the matching bite on his own neck, just above his collar. She wouldn’t look at him, and he cleared his throat, tugging his cuffs straight and gripping his cane hard.

“I’m - ah - I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Belle finally turned to face him, putting her fists on her hips.

“What, like I didn’t make the first move?” she said, her tone dry. “You think I have no will of my own, is that it? I suppose this was yet another encounter in which you got to call all the shots, right?”

“No, of course not, it’s just—”

“Get out.”

Gold blinked, the coldness of her voice like a punch in the gut.

“Look,” he said calmly. “I realise we have a lot to talk about—”

“We do,” she agreed. “I just don’t want to do it now. I’m tired, I’m angry, and frankly, you’re making it all worse. Get out.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from snapping at her.

“Very well,” he said, his voice cool. “But given that we still need to have a conversation, I really think—”

“You have doubts about the fact you’re the father,” she interrupted, her tone impatient. “It’s fine, I get it. So I’ll take the test. Just tell me where to go and when, and I’ll do it.”

“Alright,” he said, “But—”

“And when you get the results and you’re satisfied that this baby is yours, we can talk, okay?” she went on. “Until then, leave me the hell alone, I don’t have the energy to deal with you.”

Gold felt his fingers drumming on the cane handle, and squeezed them together to hide his irritation at her constant interruptions.

“Can I at least accompany you to the doctor’s appointment?” he asked stiffly.

“What, so I can listen to your snide comments about how much of a slut I might have been and how crappy my life is?” she said thinly. “No. Since you’re so unsure whether you actually have any responsibility here, let’s wait until we get the test results.”

She stomped over to the door, and wrenched it open.

“Go back to Storybrooke,” she said. “I’ll see you in a week.”

Gold felt his jaw tighten, but nodded curtly, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. She wouldn’t look at him, and so he took his time about it, tugging the coat straight and brushing imaginary lint from the shoulders before sauntering to the door.

“I’ll call you,” he said evenly, and she nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

He stepped into the corridor, and the door slammed behind him, leaving him in cold silence, the scent of her pleasure still on his fingers and the taste of her kiss on his lips.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle smut #lemon fic #angry-banging

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ourimpavidheroine · 7 years

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1/2: I started reading your Wuko story (The abdication of Hou-Ting LVI) a week or so ago. It's fucking awesome. Seeing Qi making a conscious effort to correct Qi's speech to make it more proper? Tears every where. I'm an English major that grew up in poverty and my speech very much reflects that. I'm more than capable of speaking "proper" English but for years I didn't because that's how I talk. But people thought I was dumb and crude because of how I spoke.

2/2: It made me cry to see that some one else gets it. I've tried to explain that people treat me differently because of how I talk but no one seems to get it. Seeing it put into such a beautifully crafted story and centered around a non-cis character that I could relate to as agender? It made me feel like I wasn't just over reacting for the first time in my life. Does your understanding of how speech effects the perception of the person come from experience? Personal or otherwise?

First of all, thank you so much for taking the time to not only let me know you are enjoying the stories but also for sharing such a very personal connection to them. Your words were very beautiful and very very moving. It meant a lot to me to read them.

To answer your question...yes. My understanding of how speech influences perception is 100% personal.

As a small girl, I had a stutter. I was already a strange, awkward child - it was only in my 40′s that I was diagnosed with Asperger - and the stammer made it so much worse. I was in speech therapy for two years getting rid of it. The bonus of this was that I learned to mimic my speech therapist’s voice perfectly.

I also grew up in and around poverty. When I was 10 my parents moved us from the San Francisco Bay Area to a tiny town located in Northern California, a town that relied on the timber trade to survive. My parents were blue collar people who hovered on the brink of poverty my entire life. I was the first person to go to university in my family. And when we moved to this small town? I got beat up more than once for emulating my old speech therapist’s accent. Because I sounded stuck-up, don’t you know.

I got the fuck out of Dodge when I left for University (never to return) and I studied theater, where I specialized in acting, and especially voice work. I spent a lot of time perfecting my accent when I was there, losing the rough sounds of my background. I knew first hand how different I sounded. I knew first hand how differently people treated me when I didn’t sound like who they expected.

Fast forward many years. I met and married a Finnish woman and moved to Finland. Now being an immigrant is part of my identity, and the fact that I cannot speak fluent Finnish continues to impact me every day. Finns make a lot of assumptions about me because of my accent: I’m stupid, I’m uneducated, I’m not funny (humor in a second language is difficult), etc. People get impatient, angry, dismissive and are often very rude to me because of it. And I’m the “right” kind of immigrant, a white cis woman (who isn’t Russian). It’s so much worse for my fellow immigrants here who are not white. My life is full of constant small humiliations because of the way I speak: the man in the shop, brusque and impatient, the receptionist feeling completely free to yell and humiliate me because I misunderstood the time of my appointment over the phone, the looks on people’s faces when I mispronounce a word.

Because of the Asperger there are also times when I struggle with communication, where my spoken words jumble up and either come out tangled or refuse to come out at all. Do I get judged for this? Of course. People don’t know what is going on, and they assume the worst.

I teach English for a living. I’ve taught myself to speak what I call Teacher English: I speak clearly with excellent diction, slowly, I avoid slang and idioms, use phrasal verbs very sparingly, etc. It is an extremely conscious way of speaking, done in order to help my students understand me and gain the confidence to speak aloud (a problem that many Finns have). I am 100% aware of what I am doing. It is very deliberate. Because I know how it works, I know how speech has such an impact on how we live our day to day lives. (In fact, just this week I did a voice meme here on Tumblr; you can listen if you want to hear me speak!)

So yes, Anon. Yes. When I am writing about Qi trying to improve their accent, when I write about Wu trying to fit in, when I write about Mako’s struggle to make sure that he and Bolin keep their lower middle class accent, when I write about Nuo’s treatment at the hands of her schoolmates for her Lower Ring accent and then her treatment at the hands of her family when she finally comes home with an upper Middle Ring one, when I write about Huan’s struggle to make himself understood - his use of formal rote language when he is unsure or doesn’t know someone, his word salad when he’s starting to melt down and/or shut down - all of these things come from my long years of very personal experience. I get it, I really do. I know exactly what you are saying to me; let me assure you that I hear you, and I know. And I want to hug you, because I also know the kind of emotional toll it takes from you, trying to make those changes. It’s slow and frustrating and yeah, it hurts. It’s frustrating that most people, like you said, have no idea of the assumptions they are making about someone based on their speech. Classism is a real thing, and it is revolves around how we talk. (And hooo-boy, there is so much to unpack about it with regards to racism, too, because race and speech? Holy shit. But that’s another post.) So let me say right here and now, Anon, that I’m acknowledging all of your hard work and I don’t have to know you to tell you how brave you are. I salute you, one poor kid to another.

#personal #Anonymous

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

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The curve flattened I'm told due to evaporation.

Evaporation is allowed to occur when 3 or more people in one house have COVID-19 and give consent to immediate travel to their home place -- some aliens prefer not to call it a planet but it is

So when they are diagnosed they are sent home in NY state including NYC. And so it's made s remarkable difference in numbers.

The evaporation numbers are electronically recorded live in a databank

So dead bodies to dinosaurs and handle that nasty drama or evaporation and hands free and clean.

And as a doctor or nurse, "you are diagnosed with COVID-19. You will have an adventurous future. Please go home and enjoy your ride. Here's two prescriptions to help you on your life's journey"

I mean really. Try a little flavor.

"Bitch you gonna die yo! Here take this pill so you shut the fuck up while you dien' ain't no one wanna hear you yo! And push this down and suck when you be coughin like you dyin cause you will!!" I mean i Don't even care. What are they gonna do? Complain? When? They about to die. In case they do "I explained the medication use and how to and when to and I said the future is different than it is now. And i need a break. Care to join me away from this soon to be home individual?" now its only for now and i really don't recommend you to talk to someone like that except people like me, just wanna punch some fucking ass holes in the face.

Besides some people find that kind of interaction comical and they actually do prefer it to normal doctor talk. Its humbling. Some get upset like Denise.

And i just walked by Uncle Dad and he said to her when she borrowed $2000 from me and lied it was for bills but it was so she could go to Hawaii and she said "just between you and me i borrow this Don't tell dad" and she was talking about it because I walked by and he said "yeah Denise just between you and me You got a bloody broken nose"

Because he wanted me and my daughter to go. And she borrowed almost all my savings and i didn't have enough for 3 plane tickets to Hawaii when she already had $2,000 and 2 paychecks go in and had over $6000 of her own money on the trip after bills paid. So she had $8000...

And i couldn't go. She she got a busted nose. She was until 6 months ago assisted leader of Zulululu on Eaerth.

She insisted that Nathaniel try to initiate sex with me at that time and lost her rulership.

Because in reality she told him to rape me. That's what she fucking did.

Anyway point. If someone talks in a different manner to a COVID than usual. But isn't abusive as i was not abusive in the passage above i expect it to be excused and accepted and discontinued soon. As it is ONLY for COVID-19 activated and not carriers (which will only show up in DNA4U)

A lot of people The most strong people have been invaded by aliens. The strongest.

And we been beat down. Over and over.

I'm gonna pull out the NHRA because some of them kids are real special to me.

32% are human. 92% of the remaining percentage are alien. That's just the drivers.

72% of mechanics are human. 4% of the remaining are alien. (Cause they're fucking lazy -- not just an opinion)

The rest evil humans.

So of 600 drivers... Take 32 times 6 and you got some fucking number i ain't a calculstor but it's about 3x6 is 18 plus in the ones column 2x6 plus Yoir carry.

192 I'm assuming out of 600.

So that totally isn't right. 32% of drivers. 1/3 of 600 is 200

Fuck tree msn noe he says there's 900 drivers. Makes me laugh

So over 300... Why does the calculator say 288??

Why does this not work? 32% oh is not 33.333% it's less than im all thinking 30% is 1/3.

Fuxk math.

I'm sloppy in math. I have good humor about it tho and tree gets a good chuckle at me because I get so dumb about it. I was looking for 35% which is about 315.

See why Yall need 8 hours or more of restful sleep? Denise kept me up all night acting stupid screaming and then Nathaniel woke me up early worried about his livelihood. So i got me like 4 or 5 hours.

So 288 people surrounded by 900 people.

This is often the case then the remaining (i have a calculator here) 612 people try to drag down the 288 i can clearly see that they are outnumbered by over double

So that is a two on one unfair fight. Two not even being allowed to be on the fucking planet!!

And the one alone to stand or ball up to defend is nearly defenseless.

Then in the NHRA to make matters worse the aliens lie and manipulate to get their mechanics behind them.

So i developed a system that the driver team that wants to fight fights as a team and they have to pay real cash money starting at $10,000 that just goes up and up. If they intend to fight a human and Easter Egg occurs and the aliens that put up the bounty to warrior can't fight and must award all cash to the human ran team. Like Erica Enders.

And if she catches you talking shit after the cash award (usually a wire payment) and she will. She racks up fees and fines aka charges. Then she can beat the shit outta the alien team that has to stand there with their hands at their sides or in their pockets after the pockets are cleared by the awarded team and each person gets 5 hits to the face or ribs then the shit talker gets 10 from each team member from the human side.

Since 2013.

Aliens do not belong on Earth. Many of the drivers are the worst offenders of human trafficking which is why They are allowed in the NHRA so we can spy on them and is why rhe mechanics are so many humans.

Because by default humans hate aliens. Its just a distaste we are programmed and then we feel sorry for them for our programmed hate..

It is a very vicious cycle and very painful. Because we can't stand the way they act or dress or the way they're so fucking happy. And its because they lie and hide who they are from us and we feel it.

Thus the distaste

No matter how hard we try to like them and enjoy being with them the hiding and lying over and over of their true identity is terrible.

Queen hid from me her identity and I was all who the fuck are you? Like it wasn't like i would be rammed if i asked.

She said "pardon?"

And i was like oh shit and i got all red... And i was all oh im sorry I should not talk to her like that she's elder and proper! So i said "im sorry ma'am i was Just wondering who you were"

"Well I'm the fucking Queen!!"

I must had looked like a turnip by then all the blood rushing to my face to feed my brain.

"Of who?! What? Where?!"

"Of England" and she folded her hands in her lap on one side and looked all dignified.

Holy fucking shit who would thought?! Not me!

But an alien will lie "I'm just like you but ...." And never dignify themselves to say they are alien. And it is irritating.

When Queens or Kings don't announce themselves its full of mystery and wonder.

When an alien DOES then it's full of mystery and wonder.

When they don't it's absolutely full blown annoying.

Sometimes we can act like children and allow a person to follow us around and copy every move like the other kid doesn't know how to live. But there comes a point even a child will explode in temper.

They just don't fit on our planet!

Even Venus. Neptune and Mars when they transferred to human Because they earned the right by following the rules we still had to tweak their brains and look and so on.

Neptune looked like Ewoks. They were so fucking cute!!! I love Ewoks. I slept with one forever in my bed when i was a kid - a stuffed one from the store.. A fake non living one. I didn't know. I just felt a lot of love.

And i was being really abused by Denise and Nathaniel and i felt really better to,wake up to its cute little face. It was the one thing Denise didn't try to destroy because she knew the truth about them but she sure didn't tell me.

So although I have and the whole human race has a severe dislike and distaste for the alien race I did ensure that their deaths are one I would want for myself. For my children. For the proper Queen of England who can joke around and make my body feed my brain to keep me alive for one more day.

Something kind.

Evaporation is a slight accordion feeling mainly in the chest and then off they go.

So no one intended for Donald Trump to be running his mouth telling people not to listen to me

Simple bronchitis treatment then home to their families to discuss the ability to leave and when and where. And apparently there's a website you can organize yourselves on so you don't go alone.

I have tried every other way and it was unsuccessful.

I'm not destroying my own planet that was a gift because some aliens are fucking rude.

Im just gonna send their asses home as i should have done long ago.

Its not about being bitter or wanting revenge.

Simple fact is they don't belong here and they have their own home and their own Gods.

Its straining for their Gods to switch between their home and here.

Not my creation. Not my responsibility.

Not the nurses nor doctor nor military.

Not the mailmans nor Amazon's.

When yall voted for an American Revolutionary War 76% voted yes. Of the world wide population of nurses and doctors and health cate professionals 81.5% voted yes. Over 81% voted for a Revolution

So i expect no problems from now and the next 13 days.

24% of Y'all were probably aliens. Tree says... 16 and a half % which then leaves probably evil humans. Snd tree says yes.

So 100% of Humans says yes fuck this shit.

So y'all drink your grocery store wine. Have your cheese. Leave me some extra sharp cheddar but get you some too and get your ice cream. Buckle down and take your tests for money to buy all that. Don't pay no rent nor mortgage

We will talk to car loans i expect. Talk to your car loan providers. I don't want no dude towing your car cause he know it's at home and you didn't pay the monthly payment.

So use your DNA4U to pay your car loans and car insurance and get your food..

Don't be paying baggers online. I got a couple I follow here on Tumblr always a medical or food need. Go on the street corner and work for that yo.

They can get same as you to take a test

Get your student loans deferred.

If you have no DNA4U access and you did and you got an email saying why then you're leaving the planet So click the link and make your arrangements to get on your way.

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