#but she???? understands where her mother is coming from

[samkerrworshipper]

bar-ca

alexia putellas x reader x putellas!child

no warnings just my first kidfic so no judgement

The sound of the bottle sanitizer whirring hurts your brain.

The four month sleep regression is no joke, the non-stop crying, the no sleep, the teething pain. It’s the pains of motherhood that nobody has ever brought up to you.

Everything hurt.

Your head from the lack of sleep, your boobs from constantly being sucked dry, your body from rocking a baby all night who had no intentions of going to sleep.

You just couldn’t understand why little Lili wouldn’t sleep.

You’d tried it all, sleep training, sleep school, nannies, co-sleeping.

None of it worked, Liliana was just set on running yours, and her other mothers life.

You groaned as the machine pinged, signalling that it was done cleaning out the bottles.

You grabbed the one closest to you and poured the water you’d already warmed and the scoops of the formula into the bottle.

Formula really was your saving grace, although the effort to put it all together was something tat you felt was unnecessary, it was the expense of giving your boobs a break.

You were grateful enough that Lili took formula, because according to most of the women in your mothers group you were very fortunate.

You shook up the bottle until the formula had all dispersed evenly.

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t take a moment to yourself, setting the bottle down on the counter and leaning over, enjoying the rare moment of silence in the putellas household.

You knew that you should be grateful, grateful that you were in a position where you could spend so much time with your newborn, that you could spend so much of this valuable time with your biggest treasure, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You were the main parent, Alexia had a football career, games, trainings, media commitments, leaving you at home with Lili constantly. You were starting to get some cabin fever, and a little bit of annoyance with your baby who was always crying.

You’d thought it was croup, but no, Lili just cried and cried and cried, and a lot of the time you cried with her.

There were good moments, but that didn’t change the everyday constant exhaustion you had. The most annoying part though was that you were so attached to Lili that you couldn’t leave her for longer than an hour. You couldn’t explain it, but every time anybody had offered, Eli, Alba, Mapi, any of the girls of the team, and you’d tried to leave Lili with them you’d gone through the worst mom guilt imaginable. So, you were stuck, with a broody baby attached to your hip, pretty much at all times. It didn’t help either that Lili had been significantly premature as a baby, so not only had she been sick, but she’d also craved the constant skin to skin contact in her first weeks of life, only strengthening your connection to her.

Alexia tried her hardest to take the pressure off of you, but at the end of the day you were the one breast feeding, you were the one who had sacrificed her career for motherhood, you were the one with the stretch marks and body that had been wrecked by your daughter.

You picked up the bottle, knowing that the silence across your house would very quickly be replaced by screaming if you didn’t get the bottle to your hungry daughter soon.

You walked slowly through the house, making your way to your shared bedroom as slowly as possible.

You stopped in the hallway when you heard the sound of babbling and an occasional giggle coming from the inside of your bedroom.

The giggling was new, but it made the moments a little bit sweeter when you got to hear it, although Alexia was the one who mostly got it out of your daughter.

You turned the corner and smiled at the sight in front of you.

“It’s not funny liLI, i know you can do it, say it for me, bar-ca.”

You stopped yourself from laughing at the serious expression on your wifes face as she stared at your daughter expectantly.

All Lili did was laugh at her.

“It’s in your blood, you’re a culer, c’mon, you can say it.”

It was another new thing, the little babbles of syllables that would leave your daughters mouth, it was cute, and you’d been aiming for mama, but clearly Alexia had other intentions.

Lili just giggled again at Alexia’s pointed finger and the seriousness on her face.

“You can do it, do it for me, say it, cu-ler, or bar-ca.”

Lili contemplates for a second, before babbling something completely incomprehensible.

“I thought we were aiming for mama first?”

Alexia looked up at you, like she’d been caught red-handed.

She flushed red, and then laughed, and when Lili laughed along with her you didn’t have it in you to even try to tell her off.

“Barca is basically her mother, both of her mothers are curlers, culer is in her blood.”

You rolled your eyes effortlessly at Alexia, she wasn’t wrong, in fact the when you’d seen your daughter for the first time after waking up after birth, instead of being dressed in the previously picked outfit she’d been decked out in a miniscule barca jersey.

“I’m also her actual mother and I would like it if all of the sleep I’m losing to her would be used to at least say my name.”

Alexia nodded, she couldn’t really argue your point, it was smarter for her to just agree with you.

You stepped up onto the bed, looking at Lili, who was uncharacteristically bright for this time of day. You were hoping that you could get her milk drunk and hopefully she’d pass out, but you also were aware that your chances were slim.

You reached for her, noticing the way that her face immediately dropped as you lifted her from Alexia’s arms.

Just as she looked like she was about to burst into tears, you pushed the bottle nipple into her mouth, watching as her face immediately relaxed.

You sunk back against your pillows, happy now that she was able to hold herself up without fully relying on leaning on you.

Alexia leant over, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“How about I take her to training with me? She can sit in the gym with me and one of the staff or injured players can watch her whilst were out on the pitch. You can get a shower, sleep, go for a walk if you want, go see your mami or mine?”

You shook your head.

“You insinuating that I smell, Putellas?”

Alexia shook her head against your forehead.

“I’m insinuating that you need to give yourself a break, let me take her for the day, it’ll be fine, I’m just as much her mother as you are, take a break for yourself, si?”

You felt sick at the idea, but you couldn’t deny the need you had to get some proper, undisturbed sleep.

“Plus, you know how desperate all fo her aunties have been to see our girl, she’ll be saying the words barca by the end of the day.”

Your eyes shot open.

“Alexia Putellas Segura, I am not joking, if she says any words besides mama as her first ones than you will be on night duty for the next month, away games be damned, am I understood?”

Alexia pouted.

“I can’t help it if she’s destined to be a barca player and already knows it.”

You let one of your eyebrows raise.

“Alexia.”

She frowned again, but nodded her head.

“You let me take her, and I’ll get her to say mama, deal?”

You bit your lip, as much as parting ways with your daughter terrified you, as needy as she was, you were so desperate to get a proper run in, or a proper workout, or some proper sleep and proper food that wasn’t ordered off of your phone.

“I want her back in one piece by the end of the day, and with the same amount of barca memorabilia she already has in her wardrobe, and I want her aunties to not indocrinate her, okay?”

Alexia smiled, already bouncing out of bed.

“Finish her feed and we’ll be off, we’re going to have such a good day lili baby, just you and mommy day.”

You rolled your eyes, looking down at the baby in your arms, who was looking at her mommy curiously.

“She’s crazy lil, don’t you listen to her, your mama’s forever, even if you cry for the rest of your life.”

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #alexia putellas is mom #alexia putellas is mom (literally) #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas child #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #kidfic #kid fic #barca women #barca femeni #it’s fluffy as i get #little bit of fluff #yeah the fluff #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fic #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso x reader

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for banning a child from my house?

It's not my child, btw- it's my cousin, an 8 y/o autistic boy. I am 15 and it's technically not my house.

For context, my cousin has EXTREMELY severe autism, to the point where he quite literally cannot form any connections with people and does not sit down at all. He is always running around, yelling in garbled speech, and doesn't understand words, sentences, or commands. He only responds to his name when his mother calls it. He isn't intelligent mentally, either. I do love him a lot in spite of how he has never paid attention to me or treats both me and everyone else around him as though they don't exist.

I have (had?) a cat. I have raised this cat for 3 years and I got this little furball when he was only 2 weeks old. I gave him milk and cared for him so, so much. He was a Persian-British mix and was, frankly, pretty dumb and sleepy all the time. Like a little doll.

My cousin also, apparently, decided that my cat, Velvet, was doll-like, because he grabbed Velvet and refused to let the cat go. I was in the bathroom at the time and only heard the cat's mewing. Nobody else was home. My cousin thought it would be nice to throw Velvet out of the window. Our 4th-story window. Velvet was a spoilt little thing and had never really lived outside of a house, and consequently, died. My cousin? Didn't care. Just went away from the open window and went back to running around the house.

I came out only a few seconds later and was very confused as to just WHERE was the previously mewing cat, and obviously I couldn't just ask my cousin, since he can't talk and wouldn't be able to think of it either. My mom found the fucking CORPSE when she came back home. I was horrified and, while I don't think this was the proper thing to do to a little boy who has absolutely ZERO awareness of his surroundings, I proceeded to absolutely scream my head off at my cousin while grabbing his arm, which resulted in an absolute meltdown from him and my aunt (who had also just arrived) having to physically pry me off him as I was crying. I don't think I can be really blamed for being upset over my cousin KILLING my BELOVED PET just because he was born wrong. I also sort of yelled at my aunt to never come here or bring her son here ever again. My mother has severely chastised me for that and had ME grounded. What the fuck. Mental illnesses aren't all sunshine and rainbows, y'all. Ugh. I feel like I AM the asshole, but honestly. Consider the circumstances. I hate it here and I miss my fucking cat.

#aita #am i the asshole #animal cruelty cw #pet death cw

[cameronspecial]

I thought about Rafe and reader having a fight or heated argument and their child is scared that they will get a divorce

Divorce

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Arguing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Loud screams coming from downstairs cause Colin to wake up from his dream where he is a firefighter. In fear a monster is in the house, he goes running to his parents’ room. The bed is empty and terror grows. What if the monster ate Mommy and Daddy? He rushes down the stairs in hopes they will be there. While on the steps, he recognizes the sources of the yells. He freezes where he stands. “I don’t understand what is so hard for you to understand. There is nothing going on between Heather and me. She is just my assistant,” Rafe argues. Through the bars, Colin can see his mommy’s eyes roll. She chuckles, “It’s not that I think you are doing something with her. I don’t like the way she looks at you. I know she wants a bite of you and I’m not sharing.” Colin has never heard his Mommy use such an angry tone. He remembers something his friend said about her parents screaming a lot before they got a divorce. Now, she can’t see her mommy or daddy every day. He has to stop this; he can’t let his parents get a divorce. 

Tiny feet slapping against the hardwood floor causes both parents to turn their heads in the direction of the stairs. Small blue eyes stare up at them with tears at the edge of his long eyelashes. “Colin, Sweetie, what are you doing up?” Y/N questions, bending over as he runs into her arms. His short arms wrap around her neck and she picks him up while she stands straight. Even if they are arguing, Rafe doesn’t hesitate to step forward and rest his left hand on Y/N’s hip and the right hand on Colin’s back. 

Colin’s head buries into his mother’s neck, “You and Daddy no get a divowce.” Warm tears begin to stain her neck. Rafe’s head tilts to the side. “Why do you think that’s going to happen, Buddy?” Her fingers flatten the hair on the back of the little boy’s head. “You and Mommy fight,” he muffles against his mom. The mother coos at her son, “Aww, Sweetie. Just because Mommy and Daddy have a little disagreement, it doesn’t mean that we are going to get a divorce.” “Weally?” he confirms, looking up at her through teary eyes. Rafe jumps in, “Yeah, Buddy. I know it sounds like Mommy and I are very angry at each other, but we really love each other and I, for one, know that we can overcome anything.” Y/N presses her lips to her son’s cheek. “Daddy and I can. I may not like how Ms. Heather looks at Daddy; however, I trust your Daddy and I know he loves me very much. Sometimes, Mommy needs to vent to Daddy a little bit,” she adds. 

This little pep talk seems to appease the worried boy and his breathing steadies. “You pwomise no divorce?” he confirms. Rafe nods with a smile, “I promise, Buddy. Now, how about we go night night. You can sleep in our bed tonight.” The little boy lights up with a grin. “Yayy!” Y/N sets down her son and gives his bum a little tap toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go get your T-rex and head to our bed? We will meet you upstairs,” she suggests, laughing as he runs to the second floor. She turns to her husband, “You know I trust you, right? She just makes me feel uncomfortable.” He presses his lips to her forehead and pulls her in for a hug. “I know. I understand how you feel and I’ll see if I can transfer her to another department. Not because I want her to stay, but because I can’t fire her for no reason,” he says. She nuzzles into his neck, “Thank you. How about we get upstairs so we can snuggle our baby boy to sleep?” 

He guides her in their movements to their room. “Let’s. I love you.” Her head falls on his shoulder, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron oneshot

[freyadragonlord]

Stolas and Blitz’s relationship is a really well written misunderstanding plot, and here’s why 

I didn’t exactly have bad expectations about the Full Moon episode, yet I find myself pleasantly surprised by just how well the show handled the final confrontation between Stolas and Blitz. It was perfectly tragic and, most importantly, it perfectly fits how their relationship was built up to this point.

But how did Stolas get to this point?

Stolas has been starved for love since he was a child. His father only knew how to buy Stolas’ stuff to distract him from his distress (whenever Paimon bothered to even be around). Stolas’ wife – whom he did not choose – disdained him and did not miss a chance to humiliate him. He used to have a good relationship with his daughter, even though things got more complicated as she grew up and started to realize that her parents hate each other; but having your own child love you isn’t the same as having someone love you because you are you.

And then, out of nowhere, This Guy whom he considers his first friend - someone who was at the center of one of the best memories from his childhood - sneaks into his house and tries to seduce him!! Needless to say, Stolas is taken by surprise!

He even tries to talk to Blitz at first, and asks him about his life. He wants a connection, but Blitz just kinda pushes Stolas on his bed and starts doing sexy things to him, while dodging his questions. And, well, Stolas has never had good sex before that moment! His only experience is with a woman who does not like him and whom he doesn’t like. He gets swept away! Turns out, kinky sex really does it for him, and Blitz just Keeps Going all night!

Now, we don’t get to see how Stolas reacted when he figured out that Blitz was there to steal his book. The next thing we know (which is actually the first time the audience is introduced to Stolas) is that he is determined not to let that night with Blitz be the last. And who knows, even if Blitz had an ulterior motive for that first night, Stolas could still have a chance to seduce him! But how to do that? Well, the only thing Stolas knows about Blitz is that he really seemed to be into kinky sex and dirty talk…. So, Stolas goes for that!

After a while, though, he realizes it isn’t working. Plus, as much as the sex is good, what he really wants from Blitz is romance! So, he tries changing his approach, he introduces the idea of dates, of staying at home without fucking… But every time Stolas tries to change things, Blitz is resistant.

Stolas has many flaws. He is unaware of his privilege, he can be entitled, too self-centered… but one thing he is not, at least, is clueless about his own feelings. Stolas knows he loves Blitz, he knows he wants them to be together, and so he spends a long time trying to figure out how to confess, how to convince Blitz that his feelings are sincere…

In a way, it’s all that planning that dooms him. He spends so much time thinking things over, finding the perfect words, the perfect selfless act to confess to Blitz and set him free, that he does not realize that his confession will come out of nowhere for Blitz. And that Blitz will not have had hours and hours to rehearse his own reaction!

To be fair to him, Blitz truly is spectacularly clueless – to the level that it’s difficult to understand, without knowing his history - when it comes to his own feelings…

Right, how did Blitz get to this point?

The first time Blitz met Stolas, as a child, Blitz’s father had literally sold him as entertainment, and then ordered Blitz to steal from Stolas' house. “Go make yourself useful for once.” “It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve.”

Blitz grows up in an environment where his own father prefers another child to him. His only worth to his dad is to be a trading card, and to be an instrument to get rich.

Blitz doesn’t grow completely without love, tho! He knows what it is like to be loved. He has a best friend, his twin sister, his mother… And then he manages to lose all three of them in one single, spectacular accident. And it was an accident! But it was also his fault. And that’s the night Blitz learns that nobody can love him for long, because he does not deserve it. Even if someone did care for him, eventually they will realize he is worthless and dangerous.

Blitz hates himself.

Still, he does what he has to do to survive, and he goes on.

Years pass, and Blitz is trying to achieve his oldest dream, the dream to be his own boss, to lead a successful business, to prove that he can do something right. He needs Stolas’ book to achieve his dream, so what? It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve. He can make himself useful for once.

Does Blitz understand that it’s not Stolas himself who bought him all those years ago, but rather his father? It doesn’t really matter in the end, the only thing that’s important is that he knows that if he distracts Stolas enough, it’s not that hard to steal from him. If he sells himself, he can get anything out of Stolas.

The sex an accident, in the end. Stolas suggests Blitz is there to seduce him (Stolas is joking, but Blitz doesn't realize that), so Blitz goes for that. He bites Stolas’ neck to distract him from the theft, and Stolas reacts to that! Blitz can use this! He just happens to encourage Stolas when Stolas talks dirty to him, he doesn’t know he’s the one planting the idea in Stolas’ brain.

And Blitz could leave Stolas tied up and flee with the book, but at the end he feels bad. He decides to fuck Stolas after all, and well… That wasn’t so bad. He was supposed to do it “real fast”, but ends up spending the whole night!

Still, what if the sex was good? Stolas is still an entitled and powerful prince. And Stolas’ behavior in the following months only confirms that the other demon is just using him! And when Stolas’ actions start to change, well, surely that’s just some new kink, some new game…

Blitz constantly confirms his own biases, and he is incapable of seeing beyond them. He expects to be used because he has been used so many times, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t expect to be loved, because he doesn’t believe anyone can love him.

And if he starts to enjoy the time he spends with Stolas, at least sometimes, well….. That’s just the good sex. Plus, he feels powerful, when he’s fucking Stolas. Not only because Blitz dominates him in bed, but also because this is an arrangement he entered of his own free will, and he’s the one directly benefiting from it.

And! Isn’t it easier this way??? Relationships are messy! This arrangement, tho, no feelings involved, at all! He can push Stolas around as much as he wants, and Stolas will let him.

(Stolas cannot get hurt, after all.)

(He can get hurt??)

Blitz has many flaws. Being clueless about his feelings, and other people’s feelings, is maybe his biggest flaw. Stolas’ confession comes out of nowhere from him. He is confused. Nobody can love him, so it is a game, right?

It’s not a game. Where did this “confession” come from? He’s mad now. Stolas broke the rules, Stolas is using him again, somehow, Stolas… Stolas is crying.

It’s not a trick.

Their whole relationship has been a huge misunderstanding since day 1, and Blitz only just realized.

And Stolas sent Blitz away before he had time to realize, as well.

#a lot of feelings and thoughs about Them #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #blitzø #helluva blitz #stolas #helluva stolas #stolitz #full moon #stolas x blitz #full moon spoilers

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine a regression AU with Kamisato Ayato in which thy started with a forbidden love. The two of you were trully a match made by celestia but cannot be together. They could only love each other in silence and in their own little way. Ayato was to be wed to another, your younger sister to be more specific. And you, you are just a person doing what you want, someone who had already stray away from the path that your parents wanted you to take. You had disowned your family a long time ago.

Imagine the two of you never meant to fall in love. But in the end, you did. In you he found his solace, the only person he could be his true self, away from the responsibilities and thoughts that would only tire him. To you, he was like your other half, he always understand where you are coming from, understand why you made such decisions that no one else cannot seem to understand. But then again, it was wrong. This love was right, but it was wrong. Because it causes someone else pain. So in the end, it was only meant to be that the two of you were to part ways.

Imagine, but then again. It was never easy yo let go once you met your fated one. So the two of you continue this stupid love affair until one day. You saw your own sister begging for you to let him go, using her own life as a threat if you refuse to do so. And upon realizing the fact of how forbidden- how deadly this love can be not only to you but also to those people around you. You choose to end it all. You knew for a fact that Ayato would not let you go. You could see how much to loves you, love you enough to let everything go. But you do not want that. You do not want him to let go of everything he worked so hard to have and achieve. So you left.

Imagine you left and never look back. Burried all those memories, all those love deep in your heart. Never trying to find a love like that again. And so years have passed, decades have passed and you are now on your deaths door. Thinking all about those memories you thought you have long forgotten only to resurface during such moments. As you close your eyes, you realise how terrifying love can be. And perhaps, if you were given a chance, you would not get yourself involve with him. Be it to protect yourself or to protect him. You do not know.

Imagine opening your eyes again only to realize you have came back. You have come back into the place you have never thought you will never set foot into again. Your goddamn house. The place that you hated the most. And there was also one thing, you're back into your child like state. What the actual fuck?

Imagine going back in your teenage years. Waking up into your 15 years of age was something you have never expected. Then again, maybe this was hell. For this household was like a hellish place for you. Cold and controlling father who wants to hone you into becoming the household leader even if it means all sorts of method. A caring but could not do anything to protect you, mother that upon realizing she cannot help you, to stand agaist her own husband ways of education, turn herself into caring for your siblings instead. And your sisters, those loving little sisters was all in the past, all you can see now was those girls who have taken everything you have every loved from you.

Imagine living the same pattern, letting day and night pass by. Thinking it would be wise to follow your steps the way you do it in the past. Except this time, after running away. You will never get yourself acquaintance with a certain retainer. He was bound to be wed to your sister anyway and around this time, you are also to be wed to someone else.

so Imagine the shock in your face when the person you are supposed to be wed, your childhood friend that was supposed to help you runaway was not the person you are introduce into as your fiance. "(First name) meet your fiance, the young master of the Kamisato clan, Kamisato Ayato." ??? "It's a pleasure to be by your presence, (First name)." In the end, you are left speechless by the revelation. Isn't he supposed to be your sister fiance? What changed? What's happening?

Imagine, what if this life was the life were you can finally achieve the love that was taken away- forbidden- a love that you were left no choice but to let go. But would you be willing to do so? Even if that means letting go of your dream for freedom?

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

#dark night hero #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #poll #ayato angst #ayato fluff #ayato imagines #ayato x you #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daugter is Back! - Bucky Barnes

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It was supposed to be easy, but it's not.

He felt his hands and sensed they were shackled to this agreement. While everyone chatted and laughed at this lunch party, he couldn't share the same sentiment.

Today was the engagement party of two influential conglomerate families.

The daughter of Celestial Enterprises, which owned Luxury Goods, Smart Home Technology, Media & Entertainment, was Victoria Sinclair.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, exuding an air of sophistication, yet there was a hint of maturity beneath her seemingly spoiled demeanor.

With a shy gesture, she reached out and gently touched her fiancé's hand. Her soft touch snapped him out of his daydream.

She gazed at his face, mesmerized by his striking features. He could easily be the most handsome man she had ever encountered in her life. Despite meeting countless models and actors, none of them held a candle to him.

Bucky Barnes was the epitome of sophistication. With his jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and impeccable suit, he exuded an aura of intelligence and quiet confidence.

As the heir to the AstraNova Group, specializing in aerospace, renewable energy, and real estate, his wealth and influence were undeniable.

He felt something creeping on his hands, he glanced down to see his fiancée Victoria touching him. Despite his discomfort, he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out.

But he had to keep it together. Tonight, his psychiatrist would have to listen to his anxiety. He couldn't let anyone at this party know about his Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).

He was overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch. In this room, only his parents knew about his disorder.

Bucky smiled and gently pushed Victoria's hand away from him. He could only tolerate it for five minutes. But it seemed this woman didn't understand him.

If she were just another woman, Bucky would have instructed his assistant to escort Victoria away. But he couldn't do that.

Because this woman was necessary, in fact. Her family's money was crucial. This was a business marriage. Bucky wasn't a social man, so when his family arranged the marriage, he complied with their wishes.

He thought he could go along with it, but his disorder acted up every time he got close to Victoria. She was glued to him.

"Fuck," he thought. He wished his parents had chosen a woman who preferred shopping over clinging to him.

"Look at this couple. Hohoho… Like newlyweds," remarked Victoria's mother, Genevieve, a woman around 50 years old, exuding opulence in her elegant gown adorned with intricate lace and jewels.

"What a joyful day," nodded Bucky's mother, Cassandra, a woman of similar age, dressed in a modest yet tasteful attire, her eyes fixed on her son who appeared calm. However, she couldn't help but notice Victoria's persistent touching.

She prayed that Bucky wouldn't lose his patience.

"By the way, where is the oldest daughter?" slipped one of the guests, causing a ripple of unease among the attendees.

Even Victoria lost interest in getting close to Bucky. She stopped leaning toward him and sat up straight.

Her silent expression mirrored Genevieve's, catching Bucky's attention.

This was the first Bucky had heard of another daughter.

“You have an older sister?” Bucky asked Victoria.

Victoria responded with a nervous voice, “I do... She's... how should I say this? She's complicated. She's never at home. And when she is, all we do is fight.”

Bucky nodded, understanding her explanation. An estranged sister.

But he had never come across any mention of this in his fiancée's family background.

Were they hiding their other daughter? An illegitimate child?

Bucky noticed Victoria's father, Jonathan, a distinguished man in his sixties, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, who had stopped drinking and focused his attention on the table.

Genevieve laughed elegantly and remarked, “Haha… She doesn't enjoy these kinds of events. She prefers outdoor activities.”

On the first day of their engagement, Bucky found himself embroiled in family drama.

Then, a voice from outside could be heard, “I'm sorry, miss. This room has been booked,” said the security.

“It's booked for Sinclair and Barnes, right? What a coincidence. I'm a Sinclair too,” a playful female voice retorted.

‘BANG.’

The private door burst open from a forceful kick, startling the guests.

All eyes turned toward the newcomer.

Even Bucky turned around to see who it was.

She was wearing black leather boots, black pants, and a gray turtleneck sweater. Her attire stood out starkly against the elegance of the room.

She looked at everyone, then stopped at Victoria and Bucky. Then she scoffed, causing Victoria to clench her fist and bite her lips.

Compares to Bucky. He wondered what had happened to her. She was wearing a hand cast, a band-aid under her right eye, and small new scars under her lips.

Two things he realized were that her demeanor and facial features were different from Victoria's.

Victoria nervously laughed, "We thought you wouldn't come."

💋💋💋

You smirked and grabbed a glass of wine from the server who was serving drinks.

With a bow, you said, “Congrats on the engagement. Pardon my lateness. Seems like a rat ate your invitation.”

Victoria forced a smile, determined not to take the bait, especially in front of her fiancé, Bucky, to avoid any confrontation.

You walked past the couple and headed towards your father, Jonathan.

He showed no reaction, simply sipping his wine.

Standing beside him, you didn't even glance at Genevieve, who gritted her teeth, continuing to smile at the Barnes family.

You said to your dad, “Is this what your wife asked for? I must say I'm impressed.”

Bucky was taken aback when he heard that. What did it mean?

Genevieve gripped her wine glass tightly. The stories of her as ‘the other woman’ were in the past. She had worked hard to be accepted in this socialite world, and it had made everyone forget that she was the second wife. Everyone had called her Madam Sinclair, and Victoria the only daughter.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I'm just impressed that my sister could join the Barnes household. She didn't have to steal someone's husband like her mom.”

Victoria gasped and started sobbing.

Genevieve exclaimed, “How could you make your sister cry?”

You drank the wine in one gulp and put the empty glass on the table. “I want to vomit when I call her my sister. I need that wine to clean my tongue.”

Genevieve looked at her husband and whispered, “Jonathan, stop your daughter.”

You looked at your father, who was also looking at you, both of you silent. This is the relationship between father and daughter. Both of you used to be close, but everything changed after the other woman entered the family.

He won't say anything. He never does.

Turning to the new couple, you observed Victoria drinking water and her fiancé Bucky.

You didn't know much about him. What an unlucky man, you thought.

Walking towards him, you stopped in front of Bucky.

Bucky was looking at you too.

You said, “She throws away everything that I own or touch. I wonder…”

Your fingers touched his chin, and your face came close to his. You could see his eyes clearly.

You smirked and said, “I wonder if she still wants you after I do this.”

What you did next made everyone gasp.

Victoria screamed, “Get your lips away from him,” as she pushed you away from Bucky, acting as a barrier.

You wiped your lips, achieving your goal of seeing Victoria panicked.

With a salute gesture, you said, “I've got what I wanted. Goodbye, everyone,” and left the party.

Victoria grumbled, looking at Bucky and touching his hand. “Are you okay? I'm sorry. If you're mad at my sister, I apologize.”

Bucky pushed her away from him, his action shocking her slightly, but understandable since he had just been kissed by a stranger.

Bucky remained silent, not because he was angry, but because he had a million questions.

His disorder prevented him from being touched by someone, and yet he had just been kissed.

This is also his first kiss.

And... he didn't vomit.

Bucky looked at the closing door, wondering where you had gone.

He knew he had to see you again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female!reader #bucky barns fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier x reader

[jrow]

May Prompts (30)

Day 29 here. Start from the beginning here.

Journey

He looks up the stairs and thinks about the journey that brought him here.

He was always going to end up back at 221b, wasn’t he?

Something Sherlock said yesterday has stuck with him. I wasn’t even in the story until you came along.

And maybe that’s true for the both of them. Maybe the story—the journey—didn’t begin until he climbed these 17 steps for the first time.

No, that’s not quite right. Maybe it began when Mike spotted him in Russel Square.

Maybe it doesn’t really matter when it began at all. Maybe all that matters is that this is where it continues.

He used to see his life in black and white. Right and wrong. Triumphs and regrets. It was a foolish and simplistic way of viewing the world. He finally understands that he is allowed to feel many things at once. He is allowed to remember those early days with Sherlock fondly while still recognizing the period as one where his demons were left to fester and grow. He is allowed to wish Sherlock hadn’t jumped while still recognizing Rosie as a gift and someone he could never live without. He is allowed to feel sorrow that Mary died while simultaneously feeling incredible joy that he has a future with Sherlock.

To ignore the good is to ignore the bad and vice versa. It’s all a part of his story.

He looks down at the box he’s carrying. It’s filled with a random documents and mementos that he didn’t trust to the movers that Mycroft booked (who are all dressed in suits and look suspiciously like agents that must have far better things to be doing). Some of the contents are from this story—Rosie’s birth certificate, his wedding album, newspaper clippings of early cases with Sherlock—but others are from another life. His mother’s favourite necklace, that friendship bracelet Harry gave him when he was 8, his army ID discs and medals.

Rosie bounds into the doorway at the top of stairs. Her face is covered in jam and he can see a glob in her hair. Definitely a bath night. “Coming Daddy?” she asks, but doesn’t wait for answer before disappearing back into the flat. Their flat.

“John?” he hears Sherlock yell. “Errr, there may have been an incident with your toaster. It looks worse than it is.”

Maybe this isn’t the continuation of a story at all. Maybe it’s the start of a new one.

“I’m coming, loves,” he says quietly, even though he knows they can’t hear him.

He takes the first step.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #wip #may prompts 2024 #prepare for some more fluff #extra cheesy

[dokries]

HII if your taking requests I would love a scoups image where him and reader are already dating but kuma likes her more that him and scoups gets a bit jelly thank you I love your work

number one

pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 596

warnings: an attack with love, being chased around, cheol being pouty, kkuma. my princess.

author note: AAA thank you so much anon <33 i appreciate the support so much 🫶 i hope you like this !!

masterlist

related to how to get to know a dog (and their owner)

seungcheol doesn’t know how this happened if he’s being honest.

yes, he did get to know you solely because of your interest in his family dog, kkuma, but he didn’t expect kkuma to love you as much as you loved her. in fact, kkuma warming up to you was a major accomplishment, all the way back when you first started dating. of course seungcheol’s glad; two important parts of his life being together is great! he can spend time with both of you at once and everyone’s happy.

however…he doesn’t understand why his dog goes to you first when the two of you enter the door of his family apartment. it can’t be because seungcheol goes to greet his mother first, giving her a side hug before entering the living room. his mother notices the sulky look on his face and cackles, calling your name. “look, cheol’s jealous of you because kkuma loves you more than him!”

you scratch behind the mentioned dog’s ears before joining in on the laughter—you stop when cheol’s pout grows infinitely worse, and he groans. “i never said that, ma! and you,” he looks at you sharply before pouting harder—somehow, that’s possible. “i love you but come on! we all know i’m number one in kkuma’s heart, so why are you trying to take my place?!”

you roll your eyes at his accusation, getting up to grab his hands, kkuma trailing behind you as if she owns the place—well, in a way she does, considering that the building is named after her. you grab your boyfriend’s hands before smiling sweetly. “my love.” cheol’s face warms at the nickname, and his mother groans about young love in the corner of the room. you continue, “kkuma just likes me better, and you have to deal with it! it’s not my fault i’m more interesting than you.”

you stick your tongue out at seungcheol, his mouth wide open before he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself. sensing danger, you back away from him slowly, almost tripping over kkuma. seungcheol calls your name eerily soft as his eyebrow twitches before he yells out your name and starts to chase you around the living room. cheol’s mother sighs at your childish antics as you run around her, using the light blue loveseat in the middle of the room to block your boyfriend.

“cheol, what—” you start before he lunges for you, grabbing you in a tight hug. seungcheol lets you go once you freeze in place, breathing heavily as he glares at you. “kkuma likes me better, okay? i promise you, i’ll always be her favourite, no matter how much she loves you!” he says as you giggle at him.

taking cheol’s hand in yours, you speak gently, not wanting to rile him up more. “sweetie, it’s not a competition, you know that, right?”

your boyfriend sighs before nodding, and pulling you into a hug once more—except this one is meant as an apology, and not to hold you down. kkuma barks up at the two of you, whining for more ear scratches and pets.

you grin mischievously at cheol before placing a kiss on his cheek. “you know…we can work together to give kkuma all the love she deserves, right?”

he looks back at you with the same expression on his face before giggling and poking your cheek. “we’re her parents after all, aren’t we?”

you nod at cheol seriously, choosing to ignore the offended scoff you hear from his mother, and bend down together to attack kkuma with as much love as possible.

#dokries works #moon answers! #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol scenarios #scoups x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 5

'Twas Past One O'Clock

Summary: You find a ghost in your house. Words: 2.2k

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

T’was past one o’clock and you were ready for some alone time. By the time you got back to the house Simon and Joey would be off to the football and you could just chill out after delivering 250 iced biscuits for a wedding that had taken you all your sanity to get done in time. You knew the two of them would have left the house spotless for you. Simon insisted when he was home he handled the majority of the cleaning and Joey being the fantastic kid that he was always wanted to help.

You desperately needed to lie down. The morning had taken it out of you and you felt run down and a little nauseous from all the running around.

Maybe after you could finish off the album you had been working on for Joey’s birthday. It was all Johnny, the story of who he was and your relationship with him. The more time went on the less scared you got about telling your son about his dad. You couldn’t help but send a quick thought up to wherever Johnny was, a sheepish apology for waiting so long with a promise that you and Simon would make sure his son knew him.

It came as a surprise seeing Joey sitting on the front step rather than at the game. You were out of the car and rushing over when you saw the look on his face, like he had seen a ghost. 

“Are you ok? Are you hurt? Where’s dad?”

You were on your knees checking him over, frowning when you saw he had turned off his hearing aid and rapidly signing your questions instead. He only ever turned it off when he was upset and had very little hearing without it which always worried you. It was valid of him to want quiet when he was having big emotions and you never wanted to force him to keep it on if he didn’t want it, but as a mother you also wanted him to always be as safe as he possibly could be and that meant being able to listen for any danger.

“They were fighting. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“Who was fighting?”

“Dad.”

“Who was dad fighting with?”

“Dad.”

“What do you mean? Is dad ok?”

You felt your heart squeeze tight. It had been years since Simon had had a bad episode. He still had mild ones now and then, still had nightmares, but he hadn’t hurt himself or anyone else in such a long time. He worked as a trainer now, not spending much time away from home. That had happened 4 years ago when he was offered a promotion up to Captain and chose to instead come out of active duty. Eventually he had told you that it didn’t feel right being anything but a Lieutenant. He never had to say out loud that it was to do with Johnny, but you knew that’s what it came down to. If Johnny couldn’t call him Captain, then he’d stay as LT.

“Which dad? Because they’re both in there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You searched Joey’s face. He was angry, sad, frustrated. It was in his expression and the way he signed. You tried to understand what he was telling you with your heart pounding and your mouth feeling painfully dry. You didn’t know what to do. Leaving Joey on the step was against your instincts, but now you were terrified for Simon. What on earth was going on? Was he ok?

You jumped when you heard a car door slam and turned to see a very serious looking John Price coming towards you.

“John? What’s going on?”

He looked from you to Joey to the house. 

“Is he here?”

You wanted to ask who he was talking about but Joey beat you to it. The kid was a pro at lip reading.

“He got here when we were about to leave. Punched dad, broke his glasses. I got told to wait outside for mum.”

You didn’t understand what was going on. Who punched Simon? It at least had to be someone he knew, more accurately someone he trusted. He would never have sent Joey to sit outside if not. If someone dangerous was in the house, Simon would have sent Joey straight to the pub down the street that Eyitayo ran. She was a veteran who had worked with Simon before and he trusted her to get you and Joey safe in the event of someone tracking him down. 

The fact that Joey was sat right here meant it wasn’t someone that was a danger to him. But also someone that would punch Simon. And someone that John knew was here. 

“I was going to tell you.”

You knew the look John was giving you. Guilt. It was a look you had become accustomed to from him, a look you got anytime the topic of your deceased husband came up. 

“Going to tell me what John? Who is inside my house?”

You knew. Who else could it be? You looked at John, waiting for him to say something, say anything that meant there was not a ghost in your house. Instead he looked shamed and in pain, knowing as well as you did by this point that your life was about to fall apart again. 

Perhaps a better mother would not have walked into the house and left her son sitting there. You were not better. You loved your son more than anything, but in that moment you felt dissociated from everything and everyone, the only sound the rush of blood pumping around your body which floated forward without your conscious effort. 

You saw Simon first. His glasses were broken, one lens a spiderweb of cracks and the frame warped but still valiantly clinging to him. There was dried blood at his nose, a streak from where he must have wiped it away. The beginnings of a black eye. But it was his eyes. You had loved this man for most of your adult life and you had never seen him look so broken. Not when he came home from a bad deployment needing you to take control. Not when the anniversary of Johnny’s death came and went with each passing year. Not when Joey screamed at him once that he didn’t need to listen to him because he wasn’t even his real dad (God he was so like Johnny with how his temper flared and he picked the most hurtful thing to say that he could before immediately regretting it).

The other man was sat on the sofa, head in hands. His hair was long. He looked older than he should be you thought. There was such a great tension in him that your disconnected body gave a sudden thrum between your legs, remembering what this man turned into when he came home from a bad deployment, angry and violent with nothing to turn it into but aggressive passion. But it was a wasted effort of your biology as your brain processed who was sitting in your living room and your stomach gave an almighty lurch, sending you with a stumble to the small toilet off the side of the living room to empty it.

There was swearing coming from the men. A rough hand brushed your hair away from your face while another rubbed your back. 

“Cap told me tae stay put but ye know me. Should’ve warned ye rather than scaring ye like this. I just… I couldnae wait bonnie. I just wanted tae see ye.”

He sounded like himself but not. His accent was a bit twisted now, something slightly wrong about the tone, something more Slavic now. But my God it was him. Older, harder, a little worse for wear, but it was your Johnny. Your John MacTavish. There was a hand on his face, fingers shakily tracing the changes. It took you a moment to realise it was your hand. He leaned into it, his eyes intense on yours. It had been a decade and this man still burned for you the way he had before he died. 

How you wished that he didn’t feel so strange despite it all. But then, who wouldn’t become a stranger after a decade apart?

“You… you died…”

“I’m so sorry. It wisnae supposed tae be so long. A few months, just tae make the world a safe place for our family.”

You couldn’t think properly. You felt so ill and so tired and it was overwhelming. You looked through the open doorway and tried to find Simon but even if he was there you weren’t sure you could get your vision to focus enough to tell. Your eyes were swimming you realised, tears blurring everything. 

“Did he know?”

“Aye.”

Your heart had barely broken before Johnny was making a choked sort of noise and pressing his forehead to yours.

“Fuck. He didnae know. Simon never knew. I shouldnae have said that, I just… you’re married to him.”

You didn’t think you would have survived if Simon knew this whole time. It was too severe a wound to ever hope for recovery. It was so like your Johnny, that knee jerk reaction when he was hurt that he immediately regretted. You were so unused to it now. Simon wasn’t like that, he was careful with what he said even when he was angry or hurt. Honestly you had wished sometimes he was a little more like Johnny because it made it hard to even tell that he was angry or hurt when he so rarely let it show. 

“You died. You died and I wanted to die with you.”

“I’m here now. It’s going tae be ok bonnie, I’m right here. We can move wherever ye want, ye liked it up North eh? Start again.”

It was like your consciousness all slammed back into your body at once. The bone deep exhaustion was tempered only by the sudden alarm at his words. 

“I- no, I… Johnny, I have a family.”

Oh, you had not meant for those to be the words you gave him. You had not meant for it to cause him to look like he had been shot. Although you supposed Simon must already know what that actually looked like. You wanted to throw up again. His hand on your shoulder gripped tighter, almost painful. When you flinched his face fell and he let go, backing up out of your space with his hand going to tug on his own hair. 

“I ken… I couldnae expect… if it was anyone else I’d be happy for ye. Naw him bonnie. It cannae be him.”

“But it is.”

You tried to wordlessly plead with your first husband, to have him understand. You could no sooner stop being entirely in love with Simon Riley than you could stop your own heart beating. Your solid and steadfast Simon who was outside comforting your son, who left you with the first love of your life because of course he would. He had been firm with you long ago in his belief that you would never leave one another, not with how tangled up you were. You had split up once and that had ended within 12 hours with you being fucked in the neighbours shed at a party for the cup final. How could you ever live without him?

It was as incomprehensible an idea as living without Johnny had been once upon a time. 

“Is everything ok?”

You saw the hurt in Johnny when you relaxed at hearing Simon coming back in. 

“Joey?”

“Gaz came to pick him up. He’s… as ok as he can be.”

He eyed Johnny warily as he pushed into the bathroom to gently help you up. You were so tired and you let your weight sag against him. 

“She needs to get cleaned up and rest a bit.”

“Aye I’m naw fucking blind Si.”

“Could’ve fooled me MacTavish given that you had her on the floor.”

“Fuck all the way off Riley!”

He was alive. He was alive and here and him and his best friend were at each other's throats. It was your fault wasn’t it? If you hadn’t fallen in love with Simon this miracle could have been met with only happiness. God you wanted to sleep. You wanted to be clean and to brush your teeth and sleep. You wanted to wake up and be able to hold Johnny, to prove to yourself he was here and real and alive. 

“P-please…” you choked out, not entirely sure what you were asking for. 

There was silence for a moment and you could only stare at the floor, swaying a little with how woozy you felt.

“...ye have that hippie tea?”

“Top right cupboard, I’ll…”

“Aye. Don’t you worry bonnie, I’ll have it hot and ready for ye.”

He ran a hand over your head, bringing it to your cheek and then your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. 

“I love you. So much” he said, voice rough with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked away. 

You barely remembered the shower. All you knew was that you were tucked into bed with your favourite tea and your exhaustion took you under fast enough that you couldn’t follow the conversation happening outside of your bedroom.

#mhairiwrites #ghost x reader #soap x reader

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Bridgerton Season 3 and the dichotomy of understandable vs justifiable

This is going to be a long post and possibly incomprehensible but I've been thinking about the narrative choices of season 3 for way too long to not talk about it.

When a character takes any decisions or does an action, it has two facets- understandable and justifiable. Understandable actions are those where the audience knows why a character is doing what they are doing. Some common ways to establish this sort of knowledge is having flashbacks, by showcasing backstories or through narrative foreshadowing. Justifiable actions are those where the audience is meant to support the actions of a character, they don't merely understand the course of action but agree with it. Of course, actions can be both understandable and justifiable, but they don't always have to be. It's perfectly possible to have characters do things that are completely understandable but not even remotely justifiable.

(It's a bit more difficult to have actions that are justifiable but not understandable, because often justification comes from understanding, but with enough plot maneuvering, it can be done but I'll talk about that some other time)

And that's what I want to talk about. In season 2, there were plenty of characters who did things that were narratively framed as understandable but not justifiable. Anthony in particular is a great example of this. Like when he proposes to Edwina after Daphne confronts him about his feelings for Kate. His conversation with Violet on the in 2x03 has already established his absolute terror for love and why he is so insistent on having a pleasant marriage as opposed to a passionate one. And the flashbacks to Edmund's death have further established how much he suffered and saw his mother suffer. So when his reaction to Daphne driving home the point that he feels something intense for Kate, even if he calls it aggravation, it's something very far from rationality, we can understand why he chooses to propose to Edwina. But it's never framed as a justifiable choice. Whether it's through Kate's "Yes, my lord?" thinking he's coming to talk to her or the events that unfold, it is established that it was not the right course of action.

Another good example of this is Edwina's "half sister" comment to Kate. The long lingering shots of Kate and Anthony, the bracelet scene, the shots of the guests looking confused, all help us understand exactly where Edwina is coming from. She's hurt and lashes out at Kate to hurt her. But, is this ever framed as a justifiable choice? We constantly hear Kate emphasize their sisterhood, add to it her "this shall pass" speech to Anthony, her desire to go to India to physically remove herself from the situation, and it all show us that it was Kate's self-sacrificial nature that led her to her course of action, not because her loyalty towards Edwina was diluted by the lack of a full blood relation. Edwina's comments are never framed as justifiable.

And this brings me to Penelope. Until season 2, her actions were framed as understandable but not justifiable. Her mother and sister's casual cruel comments, Cressida's open meanness towards her, the comments she overhears from Colin, all help us understand exactly why Lady Whistledown has become such an outlet for her. Those shots of her at the periphery of ballrooms help us see why she sees the gossip as a silver lining in her situation. But what happens to Eloise and Penelope's explosive monologue to Eloise all work towards helping us understand that her actions are not exactly justifiable. It's not something the audience should throw unwavering support behind. And that's part of what makes her such a deliciously complex character. She forces us to contend with our own ideas of fairness and loyalty, in an especially unfair society.

However in season 3, the narrative choices seem geared towards framing Penelope's actions as both understandable and justifiable. The shots of Penelope staring as Cressida and Eloise walk away are framed to elicit pity from us. Similarly the shot of Penelope and Eloise at the modiste, with Penelope framed softly compared to the harsher positioning of Eloise is clearly intended for the audience to know that there's a sympathetic character vs a sterner one. And at least in part 1 it's established, narratively and cinematically, that we, as an audience, are supposed to view Eloise's grudge towards Penelope as unreasonable or 'doing too much'.

This is honestly a baffling narrative choice by the writers that downplays the complexity of Penelope as a character. Penelope is not meant to be a straight up victim, that's the whole point of Lady Whistledown. And if Penelope's actions are both understandable and justifiable, so much of the intensity of the reveal is lost, because if there's a "right side" then there's nothing for the audience to contend with. The whole point of Lady Whistledown being morally grey is that it makes the audiences think and agonize over different kinds of reactions to the reveal, whether those are understandable and justifiable or merely understand.

The fun of the reveal in the books is that we can understand Penelope, but we can also understand the disgruntled ton and I understand that the show is narratively quite far from the books, but even then to take out the complex nuance of Penelope and work towards this one dimensional narrative is a very strange decision.

#bridgerton season 3 #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #penelope featherington #edwina sharma #bridgerton season two #bridgerton analysis #long post #sorry this is so long #but I had to organise my thoughts regarding this somewhere

[pinkiemachine]

Superman: Origin Story! 🎉

Part one involving what became of Krypton and the rest of the El family will be linked below.

Lara and Cal crash landed together on Earth (specifically, outside of Smallville Kansas) in the summer of 1977 with their escape pod badly damaged, and Lara bleeding out. As luck would have it, a young couple was driving through that part of the country and saw what they thought was a plane of some sort crash land. John Kent jumped out of the car and went to check to see if there were survivors and found a Kryptonian escape pod, steaming and smoking, with a woman and baby inside. Lara could tell that she didn’t have much time. Attempting to speak to John (though, he didn’t understand her language) she asked that he would take care of her son and bring help. Along with Cal, she also gave John a small, hand-held device that he couldn’t figure out the purpose of. Then… she died.

John was left standing there, not knowing what to do for a few seconds. Ultimately, he figured he ought to bury the body out of respect, so he ran back to his wife to give her the baby. By that point, though, there were already dark shapes on the horizon. Martha spotted them. Black helicopters. The Kents got in their car and sped away as quickly as they could, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever conspiracy this was. John didn’t take them back to house that night. Instead, they kept driving until they reached his sister Emma’s house where they would lay low for a while.

Martha was still holding baby Cal and she couldn’t bear to let him go. She had suffered a miscarriage just a week before and immediately fell in love with the boy. There would be no getting rid of him now. They decided to name him Clark, after a word John thought that the woman in the pod had tried to say to him.

After the black helicopters had gone, and after the crashed pod had mysteriously disappeared, John and Martha went back home and continued on with life. Naturally, they had a million questions, but answers would be very tricky to supply unless they wanted to poke their noses into uncertain places. So they kept to themselves. Clark, meanwhile, was growing up fast and strong. Literally. By the time he was two, he was lifting things he really shouldn’t be able to, running faster than they could keep up with, and falling out trees on purpose (not sustaining any injuries) because it was fun. This was their first inkling that Clark might not be human. (After all, Kryptonians do look a lot like humans.)

I would also like to mention that in this version, Clark has siblings. Yes, a few years after saving Clark, Martha gave birth to another son, Micheal. Then came Sean, then Rueben, and finally Suzie. They all worked together on their father’s farm, though it was kind of an open secret who did most of the work. Clark would out-perform his brothers constantly, and it had become quite the sore spot in the family. But, when the tractor breaks down, who’re you gonna call to get it back to the barn? Probably the superhuman son who can lift it with one hand and fly. They did have a lot of good times as well. They got up to so much stupid stuff…heheh… story for another time.

Clark was told from a young age that he was allowed to use his powers on the farm, but nowhere else. Especially not in town. John and Martha were worried the black helicopters might come back. So Clark did his best, but rumours still abounded. Some of the other kids in his class at school even called him an “alien” because of how weird he acted sometimes. Naturally, he had been told his origins by this point. When he was six, his parents sat him down and explained about the pod and his mother and John gave him the small device that Lara had given him. The moment Clark touched it, it activated. It was a holo-photo projector, and it displayed a portrait of the El family, baby Clark included. This was proof that Clark was from the stars, and from that moment onward, he became obsessed with outer space. By the time he was in middle school, he had star maps and rocket posters pinned up in his room, he tracked down every scrap of alien news and conspiracy theories that he could find, and tried to send out radio signals into deep space with his own dinky, homemade system in the family tree house. He loved his adoptive family, he did, but he also wanted to know what had happened to the rest of his birth family. Were they out there? Did they know where he was? That he was alive? He had so many questions!

Alas, time flew by, and no answers appeared. He had a falling out with one of his brothers (involving Clark losing control and accidentally hurting one of the family dogs with his laser vision) and after high school he left to get a degree in investigative journalism, later taking a job at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. He still talked to his brothers and sister and Ma and Pa, but he felt alienated. He didn’t really belong anywhere. That’s why this job was so important. He would scour the ends of the Earth to find answers.

Little did he know, though, that the escape pod and Lara’s body had been taken by the government and were being experimented on. Head of the classified project currently: Amanda Waller. Most invested investor: Lex Luthor.

Part one here 👇

#dc #dc comics #superman #fan fiction #head canon

[katarasmomsnecklace]

Someone was talking shit bout Katara again and I'm about to kill people

Warning LONG post sorry

EVERYONE always brings up the "then you didn't love her like I did" scene and you know what in Kataras angry vindicated righteous fury addled mind, that's how she feels

She heard Sokka say he can't remember their mom, that he can only see his YOUNGER sister when he tries to picture her

Katara is fucking fuming because she finally has a chance to hunt down the man that killed their mom and Sokka is trying to stop her and I'm sorry but Sokka CANT understand Kataras pain

While not outright stated, we know Katara knows why her mom died, she's known the whole time.

Her mom died in her place, that is something Sokka will never have to live with

Losing his mother obviously hurt him, duh I'm not going to devalue his trauma, but Sokkas trauma that gets explored in the show is not losing his mom, but his dad.

Another thing I hate is when people say, well Sokkas older so he spent more time with their mom, like way to fuck up your argument because you are saying their love of their mother can be objectively measured.

Also you're trying to tell me in a society dependent on gender roles Katara wasn't spending more time with their mother than Sokka yeah right.

Yall say she needed to apologize (which I completely agree with because at the end of the day it is an awful thing to say to your brother who while not impacted the same way was just as affected as you) but no one is saying Sokka needs apologize for making fun of Kataras waterbending (do yall not understand why she's so passionate about bending her mom DIED because Katara was a bender, Katara thinks she needs to prove that her mother's death wasn't in vain HER AND SOKKA ARE PARALLES Kataras trying to prove herself to their mom and Sokka their dad)

They are CHILDREN they deserve to talk about what they loved doing with their mom and how losing her hurt them differently.

Because they're kids, they can't grasp that grief is different for everyone. They were both so fucked up by her death but in almost opposite ways. Sokka represed that shit so hard it's insane please baby get therapy and Katara lives her life trying to ensure NO ONE forgets their mother's sacrifice.

Sokka forces himself to forget

Katara forces herself to remember

I wish Katara apologized because she was objectively wrong, Sokka did love their mom but he grieves differently. And once Katara returns she understands where Sokkas coming from. She was just angry he wasn't angry because she's a child and wanted to know her emotions and anger were valid but instead felt vilified by the person who was meant to understand.

I wanted to see Katara apologize to, because her and Sokka deserve to hug and cry and scream about how unfair the world is, they deserve to have a mother figure in each other (which they do, they basically raised each other) but I hate how yall say she's unforgivable for this.

Unforgivable really? Yall are too harsh on Katara, it was fucked up, like insanely fucked up but unforgivable?

I guess the point of this post was me asking yall to give Katara some slack especially yall Sokka stans cuz if you hate Katara for this I feel like you don't really get Sokka either.

Obviously they love each other and they love their mom they just have never had the incredibly difficult conversation about how her death still affects them.

Their relationship is everything to me, I just want Sokka and Katara to be happy 😭

#katara defense squad #katara #atla #katara of the southern water tribe #avatar the last airbender #pro katara #sokka and katara #kya of the southern water tribe #sokka of the southern water tribe #grief #siblings #sokka

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Plastic Off The Sofa

Fem!Reader

Summary: Rest when one is injured it is important to take as to not strain an injury any further. It is equally important to take care of those who have been injured and check in on them to make sure they are okay.

Words: 2,982

AN: This fic is inspired by the song of the same name. I highly recommend you go give it a listen if you. haven't heard it yet. It's a song that discusses a deep love where you are willing to put everything on the table and accept each other's flaws. It very much fits how I see these two

It was rare that Y/N took a sick day. Most times when she did it would land on days she was to work on the surface, which made today a double rare. She was sitting on the sofa in her apartment taking a sick day forcing herself to listen to her own advice and rest. She wasn't ill. Not even seasonal allergies were causing a sniffle. Y/N had spent the day before teaching her younger cousins different dancing techniques. It was a fairly normal occurrence for her. But with an unlucky fall and the pain she felt from her ankle, there was no way she'd be able to easily move in the Fortress. Hell, there wouldn't even be an easy way of getting to the Fortress.

So all she could do was sit on her sofa and rest her ankle. At least she had books she could focus on getting caught up on. Most of the day had been spent resting much to her annoyance. Despite getting rest, she felt restless like she needed to move around already. At least by tomorrow morning, she should be able to walk with little interference from her ankle.

Her mother had dropped by around noon to check on her with lunch in tow. Along with the get-well cards her younger cousins had made so fast. It was quite sweet of everyone. It's not like it was a major injury. She had gone through small ones like this every three or four years. There really was no big fuss to be made over it. Yet, the fuss they were making was still touching. Bringing comfort knowing that if it had been worse her family would be there for her.

So she sat there on her sofa too engrossed in her book to notice that it wasn't her mother knocking at her door. “You know where the key is!” She yelled out. It's something her mother never had taken the wrong way. If anything it was something they had become used to yelling at each other every now and then. It was a simple way of just letting the other know that they couldn’t make it to the door quickly.

She flipped a page in her book as her front door opened. Her back was to the door. “I told you I would be fine to make something small for dinner. You do understand I can still take care of myself, mama.” 

“Last I checked I wasn't your mother,” Wriothesley spoke before closing the door to her home.

Y/N's eyes widened as she quickly closed her book placing it on the coffee table before rushing to tighten the robe she had over the short nightgown. “What are you doing here?” She felt severely undressed for company with the cool touch of the silks feeling like flames against her skin now.

“I had some papers I had to drop off for Neuvillette and I figured I could at least come by and check on you.” It was hard not to let his eyes drink in the sight of his girlfriend. She looked relaxed with how dressed down she was. If anything it made him feel a bit overdressed for his visit.

She kept her eyes away from him, avoiding turning around to face him. Her face felt so warm. “I appreciate the visit. I just had a bad fall yesterday. I've just been following the advice I'd give to anyone else today.”

“It's good to know you're okay.” He let out a small laugh watching her struggle to use the dainty robe to cover up more. He took his jacket off and moved closer to the sofa. He placed the jacket on the front of her which she had been trying to cover up. “Better?”

“Thank you. To be fair I didn't expect any company other than my mother. If I knew you were going to stop by I would have gotten dressed. This just feels a bit inappropriate.” She pulled the jacket close using it as a way to hide that she remained in her pajamas all day long.

“You're overthinking again.”

“No, I'm not overthinking. I should go get dressed.” She reasoned as a quick way to fix her predicament.

“Yes, you are. You were in nothing but one of my shirts last week lying in my bed. I think we've crossed that line a long time ago to call what you're wearing inappropriate.” If it had been a year ago before they had gotten together, he would have given her privacy to go change. He probably wouldn't have even shown up at her doorstep. Wriothesley thought the shyness of seeing each other's bodies had already left that first night they had been together in his bed.

“But silks just feel more exposing than one of your shirts. Doesn’t help that I wasn't expecting to see you today.” The last sentence she spoke came out a bit more mumbled than the first.

Wriothesley laughed before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s agree to disagree on this one.” He tried lightening her mood. “Am I at least allowed to sit next to you while you tell me what happened to your ankle? Or are you just gonna sit here being a shy mess?” 

She frowned at his teasing. It sucked not being able to think of a good comeback. With her luck, she would probably be able to think of one long after the time had passed. “I guess you can sit next to me. And are you sure you want to know what happened to my ankle? It’s not that interesting.” She warned.

“It's the least you could do. The woman who subbed in for you practically interrogated me about how we were doing?”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory of the morning.

“Was she short with red hair?” She moved over enough, creating room on the sofa for Wriothesley.

He sat down placing his arm on the backrest of the sofa. He tried to be comfortable while also giving her just enough space. Had it gone his way, she would have been curled up in his arms as they talked of their day. “Yeah, she had a nose ring too.”

Y/N leaned her back against him. Maybe she had been overthinking earlier. Sometimes it was easier to accept that fact even if she wasn’t sure of what exactly had caused her overthinking. “Elizabeth means well. She's just always getting her heart broken and just doesn't want it to happen to anyone else.” 

“Could have fooled me. It felt like she was waiting for me to slip up.”

Y/N laughed. “Well, I'll let you know if you passed her test.”

“Now what happened to your ankle?” He asked still wanting to know what had happened even if she found it to be a boring tale.

“I was teaching some of my cousins different techniques for dance. I was demonstrating something from ballet when my aunt's dog thought that would be a wonderful time to jump at me. See nothing that interesting.” She downplayed the simple event.

“You know ballet?” Wriothesley asked wondering how it hadn’t been brought up before.

“Navia wasn’t lying when she told you my mother put me in so many dance classes.”

“I just didn't think you were the ballet type.”

“It's not like I have a reason to talk about dance with you. Even then I don't practice It anymore. Haven't for the past seven years.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s nice, it's just not what I wanted to do in life.” She explained not feeling the need to go any further. It wasn’t important to discuss. There was no need to focus on what she considered a small unimportant aspect of her life.

Wriothesley nodded in understanding. “So what have you been doing while you were resting?”

“Mostly reading. It has been a day of rest. I’ve done nothing of interest.”

“Was The book interesting at least?”

“It's interesting but not cause it's good kind of interesting. One of the ladies at work thought it would be fun to have a monthly book club. I just didn't think that this was her taste.” She thought back on what she had read throughout the day questioning if she should have just stuck to something she would have chosen for herself.

Wriothesley moved his free arm towards the book that lay on her coffee table. He picked up the book looking at the cover. “I'm glad that's the reason you're reading this. And you had me thinking I wasn't doing well enough in the romance department.” He teased as he put the book back. It was a book that had made its way into the Fortress a few years back making it something he had checked out of curiosity. 

“What would possibly make you think that?” She asked, entertaining his nonsense.

“You see, my girlfriend doesn't care to explain to me everything that happened to her ankle.” He began listing. “She suddenly finds it inappropriate for me to see her in silks despite having seen her in far less.”

“Wriothesley, did you come here to check on me or tease me?”

He ignored her second question remaining focused on her first one. “What's worse is that if she's worried about what she's wearing around me, I'll never get to kiss her. It would be horrible to make her uncomfortable.” He was being overly dramatic just to continue teasing her, even if his dramaticness contained an ounce of truth.

“You have issues, Ri.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before sitting up. Her words had no bite remaining playful, even when what she had said was something that held a level of truth. His jacket fell off of her onto the sofa as she moved. “I'm going to go get changed.” Y/N stood up making sure not to put too much weight on her hurt ankle.

“What if I don't want you to?” It was a question that was a tad selfish but it didn't hurt to say what was wanted. It wasn't like his wants were being forced on her. However, her wanting to change did make him question things. So all he could do was push the boundaries they had already broken once before. “How could I judge you for being comfortable in your own home when I'm the one who showed up unexpectedly?”

“Wriothesley…” her voice trailed off.

“I want you to be comfortable around me.” He tried playing it off with a laugh. Maybe he was just thinking too much into things himself. “Maybe I should just let you rest before I talk too much.” His words were softer as he forced out the sentence.

She looked at his face slightly defeated but filled with longing eyes. “I like hearing you talk.” She sat back down next to him. “You know I wouldn't have even told you where I hid the extra key if I didn't feel comfortable around you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just probably need to go back and get proper rest if I'm talking like this.” Wriothesley explained to not worry her. 

“Maybe I let my overthinking get the best of me. Don't let it get the best of you too.” Y/N placed her hand on his cheek. “How am I supposed to listen about getting out my own head if you just start doing what I do? You've done everything to make me feel comfortable around you. You’re even good about asking if I'm comfortable with the smallest things.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I know I'm not the nicest-looking guy around. I think I saw a kid hide behind their mom on the way over.”

“And I'm sure you gave them the sweetest smile.” Y/N placed a hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know I said that I'm dressed inappropriately but I think it’s just the shock of you being here. I  got used to only having my mom check on me. I do appreciate that you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it even if you’re just here cause you had to drop something off.”

“I would have checked on you regardless. If not me going on my own, I'm sure Sigewinne would have dragged on up here.”

Y/N laughed at the mental image of his words. “It is funny to see her dragging you to the infirmary. I think it was my first month down there when I saw that for the first time.”

“She made a big deal out of it that time. I was nowhere near needing to go to the infirmary.”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory.

“I thought it was cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don't think I would call that cute.”

“It calmed my nerves down back then. You know I only started working in the fortress as a way to get away from my problems.” She shook her head at her past self and smiled at what that choice had brought her in the end. “It might have been one of the few times I smiled that month. Seeing that you let Sigewinne drag you around was very cute.”

“I still wouldn't call it could cute.”

“Would you rather I call you cute?” She was half teasing.

“By any chance when you fell, did you hit your head too?” He teased back with a smirk knowing how her reaction was bound to go.

“You try standing balanced on your toes with a dog running at you!” She crossed her arms leaning back into a sofa before looking away from him. “I can't believe I attempted to give you a genuine compliment and you think it's out of an injury. I'm starting to think you really did come over to tease me.”

Wriothesley’s hand dropped from the back of the sofa onto her shoulder pulling her in close. “I haven't teased you once yet.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turned her head towards him. “Now I know for sure you are just messing with me.” She tried to force a laugh down. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Is it wrong to admire you?”

“You look like you are planning to do more than just admire me.”

“Only if you let me.”

“I let you know where the key to my home lies. I let you stay in my home despite your unannounced visit. I let you see me in my nightwear. Yet you still ask if I will let you. I think you know what I'll let you d-”

Was it right of Wriothesley to shut her up with a kiss? Considering the mini speech she gave it felt entirely right. Which only became reinforced by how she melted into the kiss. To be fair all he had craved was a few short kisses from her at least to make up for the ones he would steal from her while she was supposed to be working in the Fortress. They were always worth it even though every time she’d kick him out of the infirmary unable to hold back a smile or a laugh. 

Y/N had pulled away from the kiss, moving herself onto his lap effectively caging him in on the sofa.

“I thought your ankle was hurting.”

“I’ve been resting all day. I’ll be fine.”  Her hands had wandered onto his chest where she had begun to play with his tie, giving it a pull ever so lightly bringing him closer.

“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want you stressing your injury just cause eager for anothe-” He had been caught off guard,  a welcomed change.

Y/N pulled him in close, placing a peck on his lips. “You definitely don't get to judge how I take care of an injury. I think I've lost count of how many times I've had to get on you about taking care of yourself.” The unintended double entendre lost on her for a second.

“I might listen more if you got on me like this.” Wriothesley kept a hand on her back keeping her close. The other hand was left on her thigh almost still as his thumb traced small circles.

Y/N barely had a chance to roll her eyes before she had been kissed again. She pulled away only for Wriothesley to keep planting kisses on her face. “I doubt you would.”

He spoke between kisses. “I’d listen to you read one of those medical books I see you going over on your breaks.”

She laughed. “You mean the medical records I’m writing in while I’m working?”

He kissed her once again. “Yes, those.”

“I know you’re joking but that is very much against the law for me to read to you unless it involves me trying to get a patient to the surface for more intense medical care.”

He leaned his head back. “I know what I said but if you start explaining anything like that for work again right now I will just leave to pick up dinner for us instead.” He warned, trying not to let their mood get ruined.

“You're lucky. I could have gone into chemical formulas or how there's a painkiller derived from mold.” She joked partially. There had been quite a large number of times that Wriothesley had walked in on a long discussion on the origins of certain drugs. As much as he cared for her, it was one of the driest conversations to ever witness repeatedly.

Wriothesley rolled his eyes. “I am begging you to shut up.”

“Do better at making sure I can't talk then.” She knew her words were bait, a challenge that she hoped he would take. Her face looked akin to a siren that was ready to invite him underneath the waves. And Wriothesley was happily willing to make good on what she told him to do.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #now if you know the song's second meaning #thats whats happening directly after this fic ends

[hannahssimblr]

I feel bad for Liam, and eventually do extend a pity invite to what I intend to be a quiet night in with a couple of beers a couple of nights later. It’s been a day just like all of the others, spent alternating between kicking a lightweight ball from the tourist shop about, barefoot on the sand, and jumping into the sea when the sun gets too hot. 

In the late afternoon, when the skin across my nose feels tight and my hair wild and crunchy from the salt, I queue for ice cream at the Surf Shack where Liam is slinging cones and coffees. I have a sense that Liam suffers. He must, while slaving away in that tiny space between the counter and the grill that’s always sizzling with the chips and burgers that his father is flipping. He smiles widely at me when I reach the head of the line, sweat pooling on his forehead and that feeling of sympathy intensifies inside me. My sympathy, partially, because I’ve never really tried to be nice to him for reasons that neither he or I can fully understand. I invite him over on the spot.

A part of me hopes he won’t come, that he’ll be too awkward, but, of course, he does. His mother drops him off outside and he knocks on the door with a big, jolly smile and a big plastic bottle of coke. I bring it to the kitchen counter with our crates of beer and bottles of vodka. 

“Will you have a glass of this?” I offer, “Or you can have a beer or something.”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Oh, well I’ll have vodka, probably… I’ll mix it with the coke or whatever.”

Liam, thrilled that I have chosen to make use of the drink he brought, perks up as I unscrew the top, “Okay I’ll have the same then!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

I pour some for him and we head down to the living room together, where Joe and Kasper are arguing animatedly about whose ipod should be connected to the aux cable. As I sink onto the sofa next to Jen, she puts her head on my shoulder. 

“You were nice to invite him,” she says, and we watch Liam as he strikes up an enthusiastic conversation with Shane about football.

“Yeah well,” I mutter, “Keep an eye on him. My money's on him getting hammered tonight.”

I don’t know if Liam gets hammered, I stop paying attention to him after an hour or so, because I, in fact, am the one who drinks too much that night. It starts when Joe starts pouring doubles in the kitchen, and Kasper starts up a dangerous bragging game, claiming that he can hold more drink than all of us combined. 

“Even more than you!” he claims, his finger stabbing at my chest, “Mister big guy. Polish can drink more than the Irish.”

“You mean American,” Joe pipes up, “Or, I dunno, what are you?”

“Not sure,” I say, and slosh an undetermined measure of vodka into my cup. It breaches the rim and splashes on the floor a bit, but I’ll definitely clean it up later. To make a point I neck the whole thing in five seconds, then Kasper tilts his head and swallows his whole cup too, wiping his mouth with a smile and a shrug like it was easy. I know I’m in trouble. 

It’s hazy after that, and when I’m pushing the living room furniture out of the way and forcing Jen to dance with me to some Armin Van Buuren song, she squeals in my arms. “God, no! I hate dancing!”

“But you love dancing with me.”

“You are so drunk, show me your face,” she grabs my cheeks and looks right into my eyes, and she’s swimming in and out of focus, “Oh my god, yes, you’re smashed.”

“I love you, Jenny.”

“I know.”

I kiss one cheek then the other, and repeat, “I love you.”

“I thought she was lesbian,” Liam comments from the sideline. 

“Come on,” she peels me off her, clamping her hand over my mouth, because she doesn’t like the way I’m trying to sing words I don’t even know into the side of her face, I try to lightly bite her palm, “Hey! Come outside with me, I’m going to have a smoke.”

“Okay.”

She takes my hand and leads me upstairs and through the kitchen where our shoes are tacky on the floor. “Ugh, sticky.”

“I’ll clean it sometime.”

“Uh huh, sure you will,” she rummages through a cabinet and produces a pack of cigarettes from behind my parents’ champagne flutes. 

“Why do you keep them in there?” I wonder. 

“Because you’ll sneak them from me if you know where they are, and then one by one they’ll be squirrelled away, but rest assured, I’ll find a new spot to hide them tomorrow.”

“I don’t smoke.”

She smirks, “okay.”

“Not properly,”

“Then don’t ask me for one,”

I was going to, but don’t, to make a point. 

She unlocks the balcony door, “I saw a film recently that I think you’d like.”

“Really?” I don’t know how she thinks I can be involved in a discussion about films right now, but I suspect she doesn’t, that she's trying to distract me so that I don’t start bumming any of her rare and precious cigarettes. My brain doesn’t have the functioning nor the willpower to let her know I’m in on her little trick, so I just listen, or half listen to her go on about it. 

“...kind of that vibe, like you think it’s a simplistic, kind of run of the mill, then all this bonkers shit starts happening and like… oh hang on, c’mere, can you bring me out that lighter in there?”

“Over there?”

“Yep, on the table.”

I grab it and bring it to her, taking a risky move and tossing it, but she’s quick, she catches it before it careens over the edge of the balcony, proving her coordination a lot better than mine in this condition. I rest my elbows against the tempered glass of the railing because I’m losing trust in myself to stay upright. Is she talking about a David Lynch film? I should have listened to her at the beginning of this conversation because now it’s too late to ask. 

The world is churning, but I am invested in watching her try to light the cigarette, because there are two lighters, two mouths, two Jens. The sight of it is funny enough to make me laugh, as both her faces float around in front of my eyes like some magical illusion. 

“Feck sake,” the lighter sparks but fails to ignite, “This one is out of juice. Here, I think there’s another one in that bowl downstairs.”

She doesn’t trust me on the balcony alone, I can tell by the things the muscles in her brow are doing, the way she tugs me away from the edge, and I don’t think I trust myself either. I picture myself falling over the railing onto the sand, and decide that I would prefer not to be paralysed or dead before I ever see Berlin. I follow her back to the kitchen. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

corresponding LG chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #eeeeeeeeee #the first LG LB chapter #like! she's right there!! #tw: alcohol #tw: drunk #tw: cigarettes

[flowerandblood]

Below is a bit of my private grief, there is a mention about stimulants and abusive relationship.

A year ago I met my husband's cousin, the daughter of his mother's sister. We had only seen each other twice in our lives and she had always been treated with distain by her family as this naughty, perpetually partying girl.

She confessed to me that she had been abusing alcohol and drugs since she was 16, that she needs to go to rehab and that she wants to, but because she is clean for so long her parents prefer her to keep working.

I told her not to and since then, although we have only seen each other twice, I feel like I have a 22-year-old daughter. She records voice messages to me from the hospital where she is at for tests before going to the centre, what she is eating, how her day is going, her thoughts, what she has been doing and what she is going to do.

It makes me want to cry when I think of her because she is a good, sweet, intelligent, sensitive girl. She understands what's going on with her and the need for treatment, but it doesn't help that her mother, who ran away from her father because he was physically abusive towards her, was recently beaten by her current husband.

She is abroad and only dreams of coming to Poland. She knows that a room in our flat is waiting for her, if that is her decision: for now she wants to be in the centre and take care of her own health.

Apart from that, I am stuck in writing my Slavic stories. This is to be my new book I want to publish and although the idea seems good I feel I won't do it justice.

Everything in Poland is getting more expensive and there is no so much money coming in like in years before. Writing here calms me down, but it is only a temporary escape from what is going on in my head.

My husband is very supportive of me and we both rely on each other, but again we are at a point where we are wondering what we can afford. Thank goodness we have a lot of savings and we are not starving, however, I feel an anxiety and sadness that I haven't felt in years. I work on it and earned a lot by commissions, so it's good.

I don't write it to make you feel bad for me, I just have to shook it out from me somewhere, and I don't want to worry my husband anymore. It's just... a lot. Anyone who read it, thank you, you helped me already. 🙃

#the pope has spoken 👼

[swaps55]

I wonder if it was framed to Hannah as something to do for general morale and for the Alliance during ME3, how she would answer if a Battle Space-type reporter asked her if she had any words for Commander Shepard off fighting the good fight to save Earth. Would she find it easier to speak to Sam's persona from a distance, or perhaps too personal to share?

Boy I get so excited about Hannah questions.

The thing with a request like that, is that she wouldn't see it as a way to speak to Sam. She'd use the opportunity to do her job and rally the troops. So the 'message' wouldn't be for Sam at all, it would be for everyone else. Which just..perpetuates all her problems with Sam.

Hannah Shepard is terrible at processing and dealing with her emotions. Sam picks his feelings apart and dissects them under a microscope until he understands them, but his mother tends to just...shove them into a closet and pretend they aren't there. Part of what makes her POV so difficult to write is that she doesn't even really have good language to articulate how she feels, because she avoids having to examine her feelings at all. I don't think she knew how to feel about his death, and doesn't understand why she feels so much about him being discovered alive. What does she feel? She doesn't know, and she hates it.

It would take someone cornering her and refusing to let her escape to force her to try and confront her own emotions and speak from the heart, but guess where Sam gets his tendency to lash out at someone who puts his back up against the wall?

One of the things I think she loved about Daniel was that he was one of the only people she ever met who made her feel safe enough to actually explore her feelings. He was patient, attentive, and gave her space to figure things out while not letting her just stuff things in a closet.

That's also why she felt so trapped, or even a little betrayed, when he became so dead set on having a kid. She was apprehensive about the idea but couldn't articulate why, and he didn't give her the space or encouragement to sit with it and understand where that apprehension was coming from. The only person who got her stopped listening, so she trusted him instead of herself, and Sam paid the price.

#swaps replies #thedragonaspect #hannah shepard #'shoot it again sam' shepard #opus!verse #i have so many hannah shepard feelings #i am a hannah shepard shaped feeling