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#every day people in my past still try to find me. and i'm scared
cinnamon-phrog · 6 months
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Can I please have some comfort right now, if that's okay? People are watching me.
#i'm being impersonated and harassed#every day people in my past still try to find me. and i'm scared#not of what they might find. i have nothing to hide. but it's the constant fear of being watched and never being free#i'll never be free from the people who hurt me because they'll always find me somehow#i shouldn't be feeling so awful but at the same time.#i pour myself out to help others yet in return i get 'oh it doesn't bother me' and 'i've had it worse'. as if i doubt that for a second.#but please. not everyone has the same amount of emotional endurance. my patience has worn completely thin.#people i've known on here to be the most disgusting scum of the earth who no matter how many times i block them still show up in my inbox.#people from my old school still think they can get to me. a person who lied to me still wastes their time watching me#someone who i cared about the most probably still watches on and it's breaking me.#it always has been but i'm the sensible one. i'm not allowed to do this. i shouldn't be writing this but i'm getting desperate#i've taken deep breaths. i've drank water. i've done everything plus things i should not have to ease it off.#maybe the reason why i love puppets and artificial characters because i'm always used like one. like i'm a toy to break or put away#stupid analogy everyone has made for themselves but i'm done trying to be a good writer. the composer.#i want to feel without being judged but of course that's impossible. it's fine when it's strangers but relentless stalkers? it's wrecking m#it has been for ages but i was scared to say because i'm used to apathy and false promises.#i keep forgetting things and hurting myself. i'm getting scared.
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strongheartneteyam · 11 months
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Realize where you belong.
Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader
Neteyam is aged up.
Chapter 2
Synopsis: Reader is unhappy with her human life. She works for the lab as a cook. She's a Dreamwalker and she spends every free day she gets walking through Pandora's forests. In one of those days, Neteyam sees her but she doesn't notice him. He falls in love, seeing how happy she is amidst nature. Neteyam finds out she's actually a human in an Avatar, so, he finds a way to go where her real body is. He hates to admit it but, seeing her in her human body, he realizes he still loves her. After watching her, he notices how she's always happier when she's in her Avatar, so, he develops a deeper connection to her. However, he becomes obsessive. Reader has only heard about him, the famous son of Jake Sully and future Olo'eyktan, praised for his great achievements as a young Omatikaya. After getting reader's attention, Neteyam asks her to choose to live forever in her Avatar, becoming his mate and making tsaheylu with him, gaining a new home as a fresh member of his tribe. Reader is scared and torn, since, even though she's intensely attracted to him and only truly enjoys life when she's Dreamwalking, she doesn't really know him and she's afraid of dying when trying to go past Eywa's eye. But Neteyam just won't give up on her that easily.
♡ This is Reader's Avatar
☆ This is the official playlist for this story, the songs I listen to while working on it.
CW: angst, reader hates her life, neteyam is like her "secret admirer" but he eventually becomes obsessed, so, it gives off some creepy vibes, possessive neteyam, forbidden love, neteyam is REALLY protective over her, neteyam isn't really fond of humans (hates them) and only makes an exception for reader, TRIGGER WARNING for a few depression symptoms (such as reader holding back tears and looking miserable really often), stalking, obsessive behavior & possessiveness
Finally, this fanfic is out!! lots of people seemed to love the tiny sneak peek I posted so... I hope you guys will love the fanfic itself too hehe I'm so relieved I could finally post it ooof My environment is the worst EVER rn & i haven't had any motivation or focus to write lately BUT i seem to be getting out of that damned writer's block I was in (ITS THE WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD UGH HATE IT TO DEATH)
Not proofread. My life is a hurricane, so, we don't work with proofread stories here. Hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me, my angels :')
na'vi words:
yawne - beloved
tsaheylu - the neurological bond the na'vi make with their mate, through their tendrils, at the end of their long braid.
Chapter 1
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
I love your touch, cold as ice
And I love every single tear you cry
I just love the way you're losing your life
Oh, my baby, how beautiful you are
Oh, my darling, completely torn apart
Gone With The Sin (HIM)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Neteyam would look at you every moment he could. He didn't have that much free time since he was the Olo'eyktan's son and had so many responsibilities weighting on his shoulders. But he would always make any sacrifice he needed to make to find time to see you. Even if it meant using the few hours he had to himself to contemplate you. His sad, gloomy-eyed, beautiful girl. You were not actually his yet, but, he was determined to make that change.
Neteyam saw you holding back tears way too damn often, so, he was always deeply worried about you, and, that was one of the reasons why he was always creeping around, high up in branches of trees located in Hell's Gate, watching over you, almost every day, ready to help you, defend you from any danger, to say "screw it" to how out of the blue it would be if he - a stranger, a male na'vi stranger - just came up to you and said "hey, I've been watching you for a while, and… I'm so, so in love with you. Please, leave this damn idiotic human life you live and let Eywa help you be transferred to your Avatar body for good, just like she helped my father. You're so insanely pretty like this - and I have never felt attracted to any female of your demon kind before, so, believe me when I talk about your beauty - but you look even prettier when you're in your Avatar form. Let me make you my mate, let me make you the future Olo'eyktan's mate. I can give you a far better life than the one you have now"
He knew he was just a weird alien boy (as the humans would probably say), stalking you, always up in the highest tree branches he could find and reach, watching a girl while she cooks - as it was your job - like a hunter watching their prey. But he meant no harm. On the contrary, he meant to take care of you, to save you from it all. Because he wasn't blind. Neteyam saw how unhappy you looked while peeling potatoes (he knew what they were because his dad who was once human told him and his siblings about how delicious that vegetable from Earth tasted, especially when it was made as French fries) to cook on the high-tech stove the humans used to prepare their meals in and prepare mashed potatoes to those damn lab guys who invaded his Planet and did nothing but harm.
Neteyam thought it to be unnecessary. His future mate could easily prepare the same potatoes in a bonfire he would light up for you in the Omatikaya forest. He knew they would taste even better roasted in the natural fire than just plainly cooked in that energy fueled cooking device the humans used. He could give you a life so incredibly better than the one you had right now, it pained him to see his yawne working so hard to feed every damn scientist in that cold, air-conditioned lab while not being as appreciated and thanked by them as you deserved to be. You could be preparing food to feed his children instead, the sons and daughters he would give you, if only you accepted becoming his forever mate.
He hated the humans. They didn't know how to lead a proper life. But you were different.
Neteyam knew how breathtaking you looked in a na'vi like body because the first time he saw you, you were in your Avatar body - as you were a Dreamwalker - and that's when he fell in love with you. But he learned to love your human body too. He could never hate you, even in your human form. You were the only human he did not despise.
The day Neteyam first saw you, he was out in the forest to hunt and gather food, collecting bladder polyps, lionberry seeds and trying to kill a hexapede, so, he could bring all of it home and him and his family could eat a nutritious dinner.
That's when he heard a squeaky, funny laugh. It was a female voice, he recognized. Neteyam followed that sound just like he was a sailor and the girl whose laugh he heard was a mermaid, bewitching his senses and drawing him closer.
When he saw you, it was like his heart was going to explode in a thousand pieces, so fast it was beating inside his rigid ribcage, so strongly the blood was being pumped through his arteries. He knew he had to make you his mate, to have you forever.
Neteyam had always been a practical and rational young man, he had to be. He was the eldest son and had to look after his 3 younger siblings and not show a single sign of weakness when his father would scold him in a harsh tone, whenever any of his siblings - specially his younger brother, Lo'ak -, got into trouble and somehow, Neteyam ended up having to take responsibility over their actions. "But that girl… that beautiful, ethereal girl… she makes me believe in things I've never even considered before. I know it sounds stupid to say that about a girl I just met, only some minutes ago but I don't care", he thought. Only he and Eywa herself knew the raw, powerful feeling he was experiencing at that moment. He just wanted to let go for a while. To not force himself to be all brains, zero heart for once, just once. And you were gifting him the opportunity to do just that. Your beauty was so enchanting, it could leave any creature in awe.
His father had once told him about Christianity, one of the most popular religions back on the glory days of the Planet Earth, and, of course he didn't follow those beliefs, his spirituality was completely based on Eywa, the Great Mother, the spirit and moving energy of Pandora, but, if the beings called "angels" his father talked about were real, Neteyam was utterly sure that they could only look like you.
You were perfect. Every curve of your body, every bioluminescent freckle, every pattern of your stripes, your long dark braided hair falling like water on your flawless back, as you kept smiling and touching every single flower you could see, playing in a foolish way, just like a child. He felt a primal urge coming from his guts to make tsaheylu with you right there, right at that moment.
So many thoughts roamed through Neteyam's mind: "I need her… right here, right now. She's… ugh… I've never felt anything like this before… What's going on with your stupid mind, Neteyam?! You can't just choose any girl to be your mate, you'll be the next Olo'eyktan, remember?! The best choice would be a girl who has a calling to be Tsahìk. Maybe your parents will try to arrange a marriage, to find the perfect match for you. Damn! Who am I trying to fool? She is the only perfect match for me…"
Neteyam started to watch you go about the forest every chance he got.
When he found out you were actually a Dreamwalker, a human in a body created in a laboratory, a hybrid of demon and na'vi, a freak... It was like his world was falling apart, piece by tiny piece crashing on the floor. How did he not notice your fifth finger before?! Was he that much under your spell, that blinded by how beautiful and charming you were?, he asked himself.
So, he told himself he was going to find a way to at least see what your true form looked like. He hissed at the thoughts and feelings you had caused him the whole way to Hell's Gate, where the laboratory was and where he knew all the humans that stayed in Pandora and had an Avatar stayed.
When Neteyam saw you in your human body, he got hit by something as strong as lightning. The moment he sniffed your sweet scent (the smell you had in your Avatar had notes of your original human scent, as your DNA was used to build that body), the moment he recognized that melodious voice… The expression in those eyes, that smile, that laughter… it was you. His yawne.
He didn't understand how that was possible, what he was feeling. Nevertheless, he realized he still loved you. His heart still beat fast for you. It didn't matter which physical form you took. Na'vi or human. You were you. And he loved you. Madly.
His people had a great contempt towards the ones who Dreamwalked. They were "demons in false bodies", like his grandma and his mother always said. And Neteyam himself felt the same. Worse, he had felt disgusted by the love and desire you made him feel, back when he watched you wandering around the Omatikaya lands, when you would jump like a little kid, so happy playing with the bioluminescent, neon plants of the forest.
But, still, that feeling lingered inside him. The attachment, the deep affection, the devotion… He could not comprehend it.
All Neteyam could grasp was that he hated all humans, but you were the only exception.
Even though you were originally human, you had a na'vi heart. He just knew that. As crazy and impossible as it sounded, he figured out it was true. And that blew his mind. That sorrowful girl he was seeing cooking in a small technological kitchen was not the same one he had seen at the forest. But it was, at the same time. It apparently made no sense, but it actually did. You were not where you belonged. You did not belong imprisoned among those four walls that the other humans kept you in. That you were keeping yourself in. You belonged free amidst the Pandoran trees. You did not belong in those big human clothes. You belonged in a comfortable loincloth and a big leaf necklace covering your beautiful breasts, letting the wind hit your skin.
You seemed out of place in that environment you were currently in. And that made Neteyam feel something so overpowering. He knew it was useless to try and fight it. He was not even sure if he even wanted to fight it anymore. That feeling was good. It felt just like what he felt when he thought you were a na'vi girl. He even felt attracted to you, even though he still thought you looked much prettier in your Avatar body.
He was fully aware you were one of the demons. But you were not like the rest of them. You were special. He could tell that. He could tell you'd be a hundred per cent happier if he could convince you to become na'vi. And that's exactly what he was planning to do. He still did not know how, but he would find a way.
༊⁀➷
Taglist:
@crazy4books1
@samistars
@lik0
@miri-belle
@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog
@xxunnie
@your-girl-mj
@sereisstuff
@darktyrantwinner
@henhouse-horrors
@explosiongamora
@yeosxxx
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trans-axolotl · 14 days
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content note: discussion of suicide.
this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.
when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.
there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.
as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.
i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.
i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.
there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.
i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.
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Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]
(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)
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sanjimi · 8 months
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my past haunts me, but i'm forever yours.
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sanji x gn!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of daddy issues, alluded abusive home, angsty but not because of sanji, reader is scared of falling in love, sort of suggestive but not too suggestive.
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calloused fingers brush against the skin of your shoulder. you sit there silently, and he observes. 
sanji has gotten used to your behavior—sometimes you were distant, separated.
“is everything alright, darling?” he still asks every time, despite always getting the same answer. 
it makes your heart warm, but even now you still feel empty. you don’t want to get attached, you don’t want to trust him. trusting leads to eventual disappointment and heartbreak. you knew this well. 
nonetheless, you somehow find the energy to reply in a hum. 
“m’ fine, sanji.”
he loved the way you said his name, even when you were lying. 
sanji brushes your hair out of your face and tucks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. 
“you hardly touched your food,” he says softly, a hint of concern in his voice. is it real concern? you do not know. “everyone’s already gone back.” 
you realize you’ve been staring into his eyes a while, and you avert your gaze, pulling away from him.
he was right. the rest of the crew had scarfed down their dinners long ago, leaving you to sit at the table alone while sanji did the dishes. they say something about slow eating and trauma response, but you try not to pay any mind to it. you were fine. you had to be. even if chopper has been giving you worried looks all week and zoro keeps a watchful eye on you when you walk down the stairs. even if usopp and luffy notice you didn’t goof off with them this morning, and nami and robin notice that you toss and turn all night. even if sanji's been asking you the same question every day for the past month.
“i’m just not very hungry. i’m sorry, the food is really good i just… i can’t eat right now.” you look up hesitantly, afraid of backlash. he doesn't yell, he doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t force you to eat. he just nods and picks up the plate, turning to the kitchen and putting it away. 
“i’ll wrap it up for you and we can eat later.”
we. he always says we.
“darling?” he repeats the sweet name he decided to call you. “sweetheart, please talk to me.”
when had anyone ever cared for you like this before you joined the crew?
“i…” you start, and he perks up to listen. “i’m fine, i promise.” you try to smile, and laugh lightly. its hard to laugh. you have a hard time getting the words out, but he drinks in everything with complete and utter patience, despite knowing you are lying to his face. had anyone ever been so patient before?
sanji’s fingers find your hand that rests atop the table. his thumb traces the knuckles on your hand. “is there anything i can do?” he asks gently, ignoring the lie. your heart hurts. 
“please don’t.” you pull away from him again. always running, always pulling away. “don’t. you don’t need to do anything.”
he sighs and turns your chair towards him. you try to get up and leave, but he grabs your hands and kneels on the floor below you. he kisses your palms, then brings them up to cup his face and holds them there. 
“please let me care for you.”
his eyes search your face. you sit there, staring at him. you want to pull your hands away, you want to run away and lock the door so you can hide. away from him. away from his prying gaze. away from how he makes your heart burn and feel hopeful because what else can you do when those warm eyes look at you and ask for permission to give you the world? 
do you really want to run away? you run your thumb across his cheekbone. do you really want to, or is that the coward inside of you telling you to push people away? 
“i- i can’t-” your voice shakes, and his hands tighten over your own. you can’t pull away, even if you tried. you suck in a breath.
“i know how this will end. you’ll leave or- or you’ll stop loving me or… or…” you trail off and finally look him in the eye. finally, you let your vulnerability show. “i don’t want to end up like them.” the sentence is said in a whisper, your voice threatening to crack if you let it grow any louder. 
who could have been the cause of this fear? of course, none other than the people who raised you and gave you your name. your parents, with their artificial love that echoed on the walls of your home and made you suffocate until you finally stepped outside. but then you realized you’re still suffocating, everywhere you go. 
you suffocate when you’re sitting alone in your bed on this pirate ship, thousands of miles away from your childhood home. you suffocate when you are at the market, when you sleep. when you eat, when you cry. even when you're around others, you feel alone. 
but why is it that when you’re with him, you can feel a release of the pressure on your throat? could he really be relieving you? or… what if he’s just going to hold you under until you suffocate to death? 
“y/n.”
his voice calling your name is what brings you back to earth. his hands on your skin, he turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist this time. 
“i don’t ever, ever want to do that to you.” his tone is sincere, his words clear in your head. “please let me help you.” his request comes again, and you feel your heart ache once more. 
you don’t want to say yes. to agree to this outrageous request. how could he expect that of you? but then again… maybe you actually do. how nice it would be to say yes. if you said yes, would the pain go away? the fear?
your body defies you as you nod, wordlessly agreeing to his request. 
he smiles. warm and sweet like the feeling of sitting by the fireplace and drinking hot tea. 
he trails his hands to your thighs, then your waist. he kneads your skin, thumbs pressing small circles into the pain that had settled there over the years. he pulls you up to your feet, one hand now cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. he leans forward, then stops. his nose gently touching your own, you realize he’s giving you one more chance to run away. 
do you really want this? love is hard. love is breakable. love fades. it hurts. wouldn’t it be easier to just be alone? 
he presses his forehead to your own and brushes his nose on yours. one more chance. will you crawl back into your shell? 
a flash of bravery, and you close your eyes, then lean forward. suddenly, the world didn’t seem so bad. 
soft lips pressed against your own and you’re enveloped in the scent of smoke and rain and warmth—did warmth even have a scent? it must. it smells like sanji. 
kissing him is easy. suddenly all the fears of falling drift away and you’re welcomed with the feeling of something soft at your feet, in your hands, surrounding your body. his hands travel around you and are now on your back, making you arch into him. slowly, as though not to startle you, he pulls away. you chase after his lips. 
he smiles, looking into your eyes and he holds you close. a small smile forms on your lips and he kisses you again. 
you should’ve known. loving him is easier. much, much easier than pushing him away. pushing everything away. it feels like the hands on your throat pushing down have been burnt up, now replaced by lips sucking his name into your skin. 
a small sound escapes you, and you feel the curve of his smile against your throat. his fingers dance at the edge of your shirt, slipping under and pressing against your bare skin. his hands are warm as they tear you limb from limb, pulling you apart and putting you back together. 
yes. maybe loving him was easier. 
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is this a cry for help? maybe. anyway, i wish we all had a sanji
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rainybubbles · 12 days
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How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian
Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)
SOAP as a firefighter : 
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-"911, how can I assist you today?"
-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"
-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"
-"It's... a turkey."
-"A turkey?"
-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"
-"Don't worry, help is on the way."
-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.
-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.
-You weren’t kidding, he thought.
-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.
-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.
-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."
-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."
-He chuckled.
-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."
-"Thanks," you replied.
-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.
-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.
-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.
- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.
-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.
-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.
-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.
-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.
-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.
-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.
-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.
-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."
-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."
-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.
-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.
-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."
-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.
-He grinned.
-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."
-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."
-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.
-------
GHOST as a chef : 
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-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 
-You had been stood up.
 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.
-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.
-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.
-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."
-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.
-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?
-Biting your lip, you stood up.
-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.
-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.
-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."
-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.
-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.
-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.
-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.
-"Oh."
-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.
-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.
-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.
-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."
-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."
-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.
-She smiled, and you left.
-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.
- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.
-So the next night, you baked cookies.
-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.
-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.
-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.
-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.
-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.
-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.
-Shit. Ghost was... this man?
-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.
-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.
-"Best cookies I've tasted."
-"I know you're lying."
-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."
-You chuckled.
-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."
-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."
-"You're right, but still."
-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."
-"I can send it by email."
-"I want you to taste a new dish."
-"Oh."
-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."
-"Okay," you agreed.
-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.
-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.
-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)
GAZ as a primary school teacher : 
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-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.
-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.
-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.
-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.
-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.
-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?
-"I see," you said, still puzzled.
-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.
-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.
-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.
-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.
-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?
-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.
-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 
-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.
-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked
-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”
-“I thought you were running”
-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out
-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.
-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.
-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.
-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."
-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.
-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."
-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.
-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried
-“Don’t worry you were my last”
-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.
-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.
-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.
-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 
-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.
-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.
PRICE as an uni history teacher :
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-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.
-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.
-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.
- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.
- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.
-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.
-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.
- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.
-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—
-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."
-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"
-"Are you a student?" he asked.
-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.
-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."
-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.
-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.
-"How so?"
-"I’m John Price," he revealed.
-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?
-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."
-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.
-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.
-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."
-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.
NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :
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-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.
-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.
-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.
-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.
-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.
-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.
-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.
-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.
-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.
-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.
-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.
-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.
-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."
-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.
-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.
- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.
-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.
-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.
-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.
-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.
-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"
-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.
-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.
-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.
- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.
-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.
-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.
-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.
-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.
-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.
-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.
-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.
-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.
-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.
-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.
-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.
-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.
-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.
ALEX as a lawyer :
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-You couldn't believe your eyes.
-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!
-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?
-You knew it was iced tea.
- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.
-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.
-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.
-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.
-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.
-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.
-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.
-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.
-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."
-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.
-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.
-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.
-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.
-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.
-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.
-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.
-"You could say that," he smiled.
-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.
-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.
-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.
-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.
-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.
-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 
-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.
-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.
-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.
-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”
-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.
-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.
-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?
KÖNIG as a baker :
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-König had just opened his bakery.
- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.
- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."
-König couldn't believe his ears.
- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.
-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.
-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.
-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.
-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.
-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."
-"Hi," you replied.
-"I'm König, the—"
-"The baker," you interrupted.
-He froze.
-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.
-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.
-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"
-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.
-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.
-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"
-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.
-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.
-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.
-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.
-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.
RUDY as a librarian :
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-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.
- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.
-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.
- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.
-"Need a hand?" he offered.
-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.
-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.
-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"
-"Yeah, you know him?"
-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."
-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.
-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.
-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.
-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.
-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.
-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."
-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."
-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.
-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.
-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.
-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.
-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.
-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.
-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.
-"You think so?" you questioned.
-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.
-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.
-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.
-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"
-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"
-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.
-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.
-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.
-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.
-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...
If you want more : my masterlist
I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !
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ratsonastick · 3 months
Note
You definitely don’t have to do this if you don’t want too! Clarisse x reader where the reader has always been naturally quiet and doesn’t think their good enough for Clarisse cause their total opposites
OF COURSE!!! I am not sure if this is the best, but I tried giving you the before and during the relationship
Requests are still open!
Clarisse La Rue x ShyFem!Reader
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Let’s just say you are not one many people know about at camp. You can’t help it but you are honestly just very unsocial because putting yourself out there seems like a lot of work.
You have friends … let's make that clear, but it's not a lot. 
Ever since you have been at camp you've had a FAT crush on Clarisse, I mean who wouldn't? Well maybe a couple of kids because she is very aggressive, but you find it charming. 
But you would never have a chance with her. Because firstly, if you can't even ask the cabin counselor for some help then you most definitely won't be able to ask her on a date. And secondly, you are the complete opposites! You wouldn't last a week together. 
She is loud, not afraid to make her voice heard, and scares others. And you … well you just let things happen and hope for the best.
Not only that she's so athletic and fit. And it's not that you aren't unfit, it's just that you’d prefer sitting alone or with friends. 
Only one of your friends, Nicole, knew of this crush, and she supported it entirely. Every time you walked past Clarisse you'd keep your head down but Nicole would nudge your shoulder and let out a giggle. 
You avoided Clarisse as much as you could but it wasn't till one day when you were asked to bring supplies to the sword training field did you have to talk to her. 
You were SHY! Couldn't look that woman in the eyes as she questioned you. She thought it was cute, to say the least.
“Chiron wanted me to bring these here for you guys to try out,” you spoke softly, setting down a metal bin full of new weapons and other nonsense. Clarisse hummed in approval and picked up a new handle grip. 
Luke, one of the boys from the Hermes cabin walked over with a smile on his face “Finally he took our advice on what stuff we needed … Thanks for bringing them Y/n” he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manor. 
You were surprised he knew your name. You noticed Clarisse sending what looked like a glare in your direction and you took that as a hint to leave. 
“Y/n” her voice called out and you immediately turned to look at her “You good with a sword? I need a new sparring partner … one who I don't know every boring move they make.” She spoke in a harsh voice rolling her eyes in the direction of Luke who was twisting his sword around and making noises like it was a lightsaber. 
“I'm not good with swords, I'm more of an archery type of girlie.” You responded “Sorry” 
Your hands were sweating as you gazed down at the ground. “Then let me teach you … every demigod needs to know how to work every weapon.” she looked you up and down before stepping away, hinting you to follow. 
She picked up her sword and then a spare and handed it to you. You stood there like a dork, and she took a stance.
After what felt like hours she finally stopped, “You're not that bad.” 
“Thanks, you mumbled” trying to catch your breath as you handed back the sword to her. The sun was setting and you felt a rumble in your stomach. “Uhm I should probably get going … I promised my friend I’d get to dinner early for her.” 
Clarisse nodded her head eyeing you “Fine.” 
When you arrived at the dinner pavilion you took your spot at your cabin's table, your friend slapping your shoulder slightly in annoyance for your lateness. 
Eventually, Clarisse arrived sitting down at her cabin's table, and filling her plate with food, she noticed you sitting with your friends. How they all talked loudly and yet you just sat there quietly eating, once in a while smiling at what was being said. 
She thought it was … cute? But she didn't like the mysterious card you were trying to play. 
So the next time she saw you walking past the training field she called your name, with her hands on her hips and hair pulled back as she waited for you to come to her. “Yes?” 
She hinted to the sword on the ground and you picked it up. Luke and Chris had noticed her change of behavior, especially towards you. If that was Luke she called over and he was confused as to why, she would have called him an idiot and to go kill himself. 
But she didn’t tell you. 
After an hour of training, she tripped you and you fell, “Why don't you fight back … you need to slander me.” 
“I'm good” you mumbled standing back up and swinging back “Why are you so quiet? I've seen you yell before yet you won't now.” she taunted you … but hey at least she's noticed you before! 
“I'm just naturally quiet, I'm not big on yelling, it's a lot of work.” You spoke up, clashing the sword down onto hers, this made her smirk slightly. 
When you guys finished up and sat down on the grass she took a sip of water from your water bottle and then handed it to you.
“I want you to go out with me,” she said, looking out in the distance “You're strange,” she spoke up once more. 
“Oh?” 
“You don't have a choice, so don't act bitchy when I pick you up from your cabin. I want you pretty and sweet.” She added with a demanding tone. 
And that's what you did. 
After 2 weeks of dating? (Clarisse wouldn’t clarify, I think she just figured you knew you were because if you looked at anyone else she'd glare at you) you began to have doubts. 
What if your relationship wouldn't work out, you were so completely different it was almost awkward. 
Like for example, when you were told to sit with her at the Ares cabin table, they were all so rowdy and she just kept laughing, and you just sat there with a blank face. 
Or when you went on a library date, she figured that was code for making out, but it was actually just you wanting some company while you read. (She was a little disappointed she couldn't hold your hips)
And it wasn’t just you who thought the relationship was a bit weird, Nicole (that wench) also believed the relationship was … different? But she thought it was so cute how Clarisse was the voice that you didn't like to use. 
For example, when this kid kept talking and was so annoying at the campfire, you gave Clarisse a look that didn't really mean anything but also meant a lot and she shouted at the kid to shut up. 
All the differences outweighed the similarities and it only made you worry, which caused you to distance yourself. 
One thing you didn't realize though is how much Clarisse believed you to be adorable, and how she loved seeing a different side of you when you are alone. Even if it's only a little bit more talkative than usual. 
But she wouldn’t tell you that. Hell no. 
This worry drove you to a lot of self reflection, which took place in your bunk. A party was happening that night and you thought to yourself that maybe if you went and showed how you could act, Clarisse might think you are good enough and keep you around. 
So you found yourself getting dressed with a scowl, sliding a tank top over your head and putting on a skirt. It was a party at the Aphrodite's cabin, and you knew she'd be there for this. 
So when the time came you walked over, and just as you approached the cabin you heard a whistle, you turned and saw Luke and Chris walking a bit behind Clarisse and her siblings. Clarisse gave them a death stare and shouted 'shut up' and walked over to you, leaving her siblings. 
“What are you doing here baby? I thought you said you weren't gonna come.” She said in a soft voice, but in your head, she sounded disappointed, maybe she didn't want you there so she could hook up with some other girl. 
“I wanted to surprise you… I can leave if you want me to.” But Clarisse shook her head grabbing onto your waist “If you leave I'll only follow. I'm just surprised you came, I know this isn't your type of scene.” 
Which was true, you only go to parties with your friends. 
“I just wanted to show you that I can be sociable” you mumbled looking at her with soft eyes which caused her to smile “I know you are princess … but you don't have to go out of your way to change yourself just to prove you can be like me so we are more alike.''
She spoke gently, and she knew that if anyone heard her act this way she'd pause the conversation just to stab them. 
You felt embarrassed now, becoming very aware of how you looked. “You look hot though baby” She mumbled through a smile as she gently kissed you. “Wanna go back to your bunk?” she asked and you nodded your head with a smile.
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enderblogs-24 · 3 months
Text
"Everyone's autistic now," "Why's there so much autism," "So many kids faking autism these days."
You know. I had been suspecting I was autistic since I started to understand what that meant, around middle school. I was working with two different autistic kids in a Girl Scout troop I led with my mom, and they did/said things that felt familiar. But I didn't dare bring up those thoughts, because my little cousin was autistic, that was his thing, and I didn't want to seem like I was looking for attention.
I started looking into autism for real when I hit my 20's, because those suspicions never went away... just buried. I had been focusing on other areas of my life anyway - my transition. But that was over, and I could see that things were still "off" about me. I love diving deep into different disabilities, disorders, and mental illnesses, but avoided autism because I was scared of what I'd find. I took maybe one test, masked up and guarded as hell, and because of that it said I wasn't autistic. I didn't answer truthfully, so I went looking elsewhere. ADHD, maybe. I ended up trying to get an ADHD diagnosis, and got misdiagnosed with a personality disorder that can be misdiagnosed in autistic adults. I felt I didn't have an option but to accept the diagnosis, because I was on my way to Chicago; out of time and out of money.
Nearly six months after the misdiagnosis, while I had been looking into the personality disorder and knew for certain I didn't meet the criteria for a diagnosis, (but masked through the appointments, which is how I got it) I had worked extensively on unmasking. I learned many neurodivergencies masked, and thought I'd give unmasking a shot, soon realizing I'd been doing it forever. Once I got better at unmasking, I eventually looked into autism again. What would it hurt to be told no twice? I took a couple quizzes again. Slowed down, answered honestly, and gave every answer my full attention. And I scored high on every one. It was terrifying. But it was also... a relief? While a few of those quizzes weren't too be taken seriously, I did take tests on official sites made by and for autistic people. When I came home from Chicago in summer 2022, I told my mom and showed her all my past scores on official tests like the RAADS, one of which I take annually. Part of me still has doubts that I'm not faking it, I guess.
All of this, at least past 2021, has occurred while people have been posting their own stores about discovering and getting diagnosed as adults. While I initially started looking into things on my own, hearing these people's stories on occasion really, really helped. Random strangers on the internet in a reel telling me they'd been overlooked because they were afab, did well in school, and didn't have many other adults around to see a difference... really helped. I could sneak into the autistic tags on Tumblr and look around at posts, relate to them silently, write down my findings in my little notebook, and go about my day. This "autism boom" as it were really helped, just because everyone suddenly showing off who they are, telling the world "I'm different and that's okay," really, really... helped. I know why I've always felt different and wrong, I know why I struggle with certain things, and I know why certain things will likely never be possible on my own. That's so much better than going thrift my life wondering and beating myself up because I can't function like everyone else.
Everyone isn't suddenly being diagnosed as autistic, now. People are just... starting to listen. Starting to get more comfortable. Obtaining more resources. And it's really nice. ❤️
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animehideout · 4 months
Note
Hiiiii !!!
Do you think you could do a part 2 of the insecure reader with suguru and any other character u feel like writing for ???
Maybe something w a reader who had a past w s3lf h4rm?? If this makes u uncomfortable I totally understand and u don’t have to write it!!
Tysm have a nice day/night :)
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Insecure Reader X Geto Suguru Finding Out
check out part 1 here
a/n: Thank you Anon for your request ♡⁠˖. This one turned out a bit long, kinda like a oneshot so I didn't include other characters, but there will be a part 3, since someone requested Choso/ Megumi / Sukuna. I'll be posting them soon.
P.S: For anyone who didn't see their requests posted, it's because I'm still working on them <3
TW: Mention of Self-harm, Depression, Negative body image.
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Despite multiple pleas from family and close friends to open up, find happiness, and lead a better life without hiding, they still don't know that stepping out of your comfort zone means exposing the harm you've inflicted on your body as a way to punish yourself for simply being you.
But love works in mysterious ways, and has a way of transforming people, and now, every day, you find yourself making an effort for Geto Suguru—the man who turned your world upside down and indirectly encouraged you to embrace your true self. The happiest day of your life was when he asked you out on a date, making you feel worthy of love and care.
He always treated you with sweetness, but a sense of guilt lingered for hiding a big part of your life from him. Maybe it's because you chose to bury your past and start fresh, or maybe because of your insecurities, that prevented you from being authentic in front of him.
Tonight marked a special occasion as he would meet your family for the first time, anticipating a familial yet fancy dinner. He thought it'd be a great idea if both of you matched in color—black. So, he took you shopping to get a suit for himself and find the perfect dress for you.
The moment you'd been avoiding arrived, and you found yourself in a revealing short black dress he had chosen. Standing in front of the mirror in the changing cabinet, your eyes scanned your body, fixated on each scar from your past. Vulnerable emotions surged, and you gulped back the urge to cry.
"He'll hate me.." you whispered to yourself.
Not only would he be shocked by your appearance, but your family as well. At least, that's what you thought, as no one knew about your self-harm. It was a tough decision to make—whether to put back your clothes and continue concealing yourself from him or to walk out in that dress, letting everything unfold. You were prepared to accept whatever he would say, whether he chose to break up with you or accept you.
You clenched your fists, scared of his reaction, but you knew it was time to reveal the truth. The truth always surfaces, and if he doesn't see your scars today, he'll discover them eventually,when both of you have your first time. Pushing yourself out of the changing cabinet, you took a deep breath. The air hitched in your throat as your laid eyes on your boyfriend, who was already in the company of a stunning woman with a perfect figure and smooth skin,.. hugging him. The timing couldn't have been worse, especially as you were already having an internal breakdown and crisis from how the dress exposed one of your deep secrets.
Standing still, the weight of the moment hit you— not only would he see you like this, but also the woman who was hugging him. It felt like someone had struck a sensitive nerve in your mind, shifting elsewhere full of negativity. Trust issues resurfaced, fueling self-hatred within you, expecting both of them to judge you or maybe laugh at you..and Geto ditching you for her.
"Oh baby, you're here...Mei Mei this is my partner Y/n, Y/n this is my colleague Mei Mei" he started when he saw you.
You forced a smile to not come out as rude or jealous. Blinking away your tears, your trembling hands awkwardly trying to hide your scars, forcefully tugging on your dress. You noticed the way Mei Mei scanned you head to toe, your mind telling you that she's judging even though she wasn't.
"See ya Mei Mei, say Hi to your brother" said Geto waving her a goodbye,
And then approached you with a smile that quickly dropped. " b-baby?!" he started his heart pounding when his eyes fell in your scars "w-who did this to you?" he asked.
His question felt like a poisoned arrow that was aimed at your chest .You looked down, mind racing with unwelcomed ideas "maybe it's the end, I've never deserved him anyway" you thought to yourself.
"baby answer me!" he asked again and reached to hold your hand but you flinched away
" I -I did" you confessed,
and ran to the changing room to quickly strip out of the dress before Geto gets to catch you. But it was too late, you didn't even get to lock the door when he got inside joining you and locked the door behind him, traping both of you inside the cabinet. You expected him to yell at you,to voice his frustration and anger but you were left speechless when he pulled you into a his chest, engulfing you in his big arms, whispering,
"I'm sorry"
"why?" your voice cracked, thinking that it might be his way to break up with you but nicely.
"Because I wasn't there for you" he muttered into your hair.
"It was years ago Suguru..."
he pulled back, his thumbs wiping your tears away, looking at you with admiration yet with a broken heart.
"why baby why? tell me everything"
Both of you sat on the cold floor, his arms still around your shaking form.
"It was the only way to cope with my reality– b-because I've never liked the way I am. Everyone around me was trying to compliment me, but I've always taken it as a pity not a truth. My mind just couldn't accept it, so hurting myself was the only refuge to make me feel alive, to punish myself–",
you couldn't even finish the sentence, it was too overwhelming for you, to open a wound that you've been miserably attempting to heal.
"And you thought I'd leave you? You thought I wouldn't accept you?...Look at me my love, You're too precious to deal with all of this. You are important and worth fighting for. I'll fight the whole world if it means getting to be by your side forever. I'm here to protect you and what we have between us is a safe place for both of us. Dont harm yourself anymore, I won't let you do it again... Together we will find a healthier way to deal with your unhealed side. A way far away from harming yourself, okay?".
"What about these Suguru? what's gonna heal them?"
"You're beautiful the way you are! Even though it was a wrong way to cope with what you've been through, but still they're a reminder that you're strong for fighting and surviving till this day. I promise I'll plant a kiss on each scar everyday"
"What about my family...they don't know and I'm sca–"
"You'll wear this dress tonight, and no one has the right to judge you, be who you are, raise your head up and be proud of being you. And by the way, the dress is hugging your body perfectly.. damn you're turning me on–Yes just like that baby... Smile. Oh how I love that sweet smile of yours" He giggled leaning in for a kiss.
"Now roll that dress up a bit" he added
"But Suguru we're in public what if we get caught"
"Didn't I tell you that I love the thrill, but I promise I'll be quick, love. I just want to make sure that you know how beautiful and attractive you are both inside and out...let me treat you well.."
💌✨ Dear readers, remember you are beautiful inside and out, you are worth it and you are deserving of all the love and happiness. I want you to know that you're not alone. I know that overcoming the daily struggles, the negative feelings, the insecurities and self-harm is a challenging journey. Healing takes time but each step you take towards recovering is a great Triumph, so be proud of who you are. Remember that it's okay to ask for help your past doesn't define you and the journey towards self-love is worth every effort. I love you all ✨💌
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nrdmssgs · 4 months
Note
Sorry but I NEED a happy ending for Nikto and that reader. An AU, What If, whatever, but I need fluff and happiness
Pieces of them
Masterlist
Part 1
Pairing: Nikto x f reader Angst\comfort Reader goes KIA
Thank you @amongthe141 for encouraging me for writing more for this guy, thank you to a very dear @atenceladusiaawfytbwb for reminding me about this story. @iwanncry @bogboyfriendbreadslice @sinner-sinta loves, sorry for bothering you, but just in case, you wanted a happy ending - here it is.
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"Are you out or not? I don't have all night!" She laughs.
Nikto doesn't like it when she laughs - it feels as if someone tickles him from the inside.
"Dumb ritual," he mutters, taking a step outside and facing dark night skies.
"Anything, I come up with is dumb, of course." Her voice is calm and unbothered by his commentaries. "Now tell me, which one do you see?"
He lifts his head. Usually he manages to recognize two, or at best three, constellations. But today he is almost going blind from the brightness of the myriad stars. They are so large that it seems that he can reach some of them with his hand.
Niktos breath catches in his throat. Why didn't he notice this before? Why didn't he see all these stars hovering right above his head? The night sky became so wildly mesmerizing, since...
"Hello, it seems you are trying to reach me, while I'm deployed. Leave your message, and I'll call back after an ungodly amount of sleep, hot shower and a few decent meals. Bye!"
He winces. Just recently, she called him every evening and forced him to go outside before bed and tell her at least two constellations that he could see above his head. Recently. Or maybe it was a million years ago, in a past life? Or did this not happen at all? Maybe he made her up?
Nikto shakes his head. Her voice, pre-recorded for the inbox, is not a figment of his imagination. And this sky above is unusually bright, but still real. He raises his head, covers his mouth and howls in horror and pain.
***
The worst thing is that there's even no body left to bury. She was confirmed to be KIA, yet Nikto couldn't even say goodbye.
First he waited by her door. Like a dog on a leash. Scared and desperate. Like a beggar. Hopeless.
He wrote her, he wrote so much, but never got an answer. So Nikto ran away, not being able to spend one more night at her doorstep, waiting for nothing. Ever since, he was on the run, chasing the last traces of her. He barely slept or ate and just drove from one hospital to another, inspecting their list of deceived soldiers.
Nikto deserved that last goodbye. Even if her body was all deformed, even if there were just a few bones left - it was still better than chasing her pre-recorded voice every evening and suffocate himself to not howl at the moon.
His squadmates try to reach out to him, buts it's no use - Nikto ignores their calls and doesn't bother reading messages. He keeps chasing her ghost and that is all that matters.
Until one day he stumbles upon König himself at one of the hospitals. Nikto notices a printed list of names in his hand and pulls it harshly, almost tearing the paper apart.
"She's not there."
Nikto ignores Colonels words and goes through the list, quietly muttering names. Only to find out, that König is right.
A crumpled piece of paper flies into the wall, to the displeasure of the head nurse. The Colonel picks it up, carefully straightens it and places it back on the counter.
"We are not ok about her fate, just as you. We can search together, An-"
"Shut up! I'm not searching just for a squadmate, not trying to lighten my conscience! You don't know who she was! Even she didn't..." Nikto stops himself in the middle of the sentence. He knows, It's wrong to vent his anger to the Colonel, who did nothing wrong in the first place.
***
König starts sending Nikto strange addresses: they switch from military hospitals to the organizations helping war survivors. The search becomes much more complicated, because many people, who end up in such facilities, have no IDs. So Nikto has to visit each ward and have long talks with nurses.
It drains his last bits of energy, so when he hears 'we actually have someone fitting your description', he doesn't even react right away. Nikto nods automatically, stands up and stops only at the doors.
"Wait, there is someone?" He rushes back and nearly knocks the nurse over.
Grabbing her hands, he barely whispers 'please, let me see, just one glance, please' with his white, dry lips.
He expects to be escorted to the basement, where the morgue is usually located, but is taken to the common room. A few people slowly walk along it with absolutely lost faces. But Nikto doesn’t look at them - his gaze rests on the painfully familiar profile. Her face.
Eyes tired and faded. Her skin is pale, her hair is very short, and there is a long and voluminous scar on the head. Nikto notices that she is shaking.
“She’s cold. Do you have warmer clothes or a blanket here? I’ll pay for anything!” He turns and meets the sympathetic gaze of the nurse. Irritated, he knocks on the glass door. Several people turn to look at him, but she doesn't pay any attention.
"Sir, I'm afraid you don't quite understand the situation correctly. She experienced clinical death, woke up from a coma. These tremors are not from the cold." After these words, Nikto already feels his hands getting colder.
He begs the nurse to let them speak. "A minute, just a minute!" But she leads him away from the room.
"Sir, she needs to be prepared for any meeting. Meanwhile, we will need some documentary evidence of your affiliation. We have to protect our patients from any illegal encounters."
For a split second Nikto imagines, how long would it take him to push her to any room on their way and block the door, so he can run back. But he shakes his head, banishing the mental image.
He patiently listens and even writes down, what documents he has to provide. He covers his own mouth, when the voices inside line up in the choir, asking him to scream.
***
Nikto fights for a single chance to talk to her, as if his life depends on it: despite his anger, he contacts König, asks for a help with forging required papers, he takes his own meds religiously, fearing to harm her otherwise.
He counts minutes, till he can hold her hand, just make sure, it is really her. Alive.
When he is finally allowed to talk to her - the nurse asks Nikto to wait, while she makes sure, the patient is ready. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, as the nurse sits on the bed next to her and tells her something softly.
In a few minutes she nods and the nurse walks past Nikto. "No sudden moves, keep your voice down. She gets scared easily. There will be personnel right behind her door," she whispers and leaves them alone.
Nikto walks around the bed and finally sees her: a mere shadow of a warrior, an almost lifeless shell, curled up, hugging her knees. Words roll up in a lump in his throat, and he just descends on his knees, trying to meet her lost gaze.
At first, she hides her eyes, as if not looking at him would make him not existing in her world. Nikto cant believe, this is all that left of the smiling, lively, skillful amazing her. His hand raises to the huge, ugly scar on her head automatically, but she catches him and shakes her head in a silent plea.
"Of course. I-I`m sorry, I won't touch... Of course, I won't. I'm so sorry." His voice is just a tad louder than a whisper.
Feeling, that his voice is shaking, Nikto takes a deep breath and looks her in the eyes. He wants to tell her so much, every cell in his body begs to hold her, cover her with a blanket, warm her. But he knows better than to stress her with too much information or questions or contact. He's been reading days and nights now about her current state. That's why Nikto just sits before her, staring into her face.
She reaches out to his cheeks, and he wakes from his stupor.
"My face must be scary. I brought a mask, but they said, it might scare you even more." Nikto shows her the mask, but she pushes it away and rests her hands on his face. It's only when her fingers touch his skin - he realizes, his cheeks, chin and neck are wet with tears.
He tries to get a grip on himself, but her touch crushes the last bit of self-control, he had. Tears keep running down his face as she cups it with all the care of this world.
"They will come. They will come. They will come. They will come." At first, he doesn't make anything from the words, leaving her lips. He is so shocked by her tenderness, that he is afraid to move or talk back.
She brings him closer and closer, until she hugs Nikto, clinging to him desperately and repeating 'they will come'. Only when her face hides on his shoulder, Nikto masters a simple question.
"Who will come? You're waiting for someone?"
She keeps muttering the same mantra, but points at a bed drawer. Nikto hesitates for a few long minutes, not wanting to scare her off by a sudden movement.
He reaches out and opens the drawer, which appears to be full of... pieces of paper. He hugs her back with one hand and takes a handful of pieces with the other.
Several pieces of paper fall to the floor with a dry rustle. Nikto squints his eyes at the remaining pieces of paper and freezes. A star map. Torn into tiny pieces. Their nightly ritual has survived everything - even death.
Maybe she didn’t remember him, maybe she didn’t remember what exactly they did in the evenings, but this starry sky, even in the form of a map, remained with her as small pieces of hope. Pieces from which she assembled him and herself.
Nikto opens his palm, letting the remaining paper fall on the ground, and hugs her with both hands finally. He finally finds the right words for her.
"We've come for you, love."
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sirfrogsworth · 7 months
Text
Last week was crazy.
I honestly can't believe all of it happened in the span of a week. Well, I guess it was more like 10 days. But it was another... Alot.
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It all started when I got my disability denial letter. I couldn't wait until I got into the house so I opened the envelope as I walked back from the mailbox. Once I saw the bad part I had an instant panic attack in my driveway.
I ran inside...
Okay, that isn't true.
I walked very quickly inside...
Nope, still not true.
Okay, I walked at my personal top speed which is probably still slow for most people... but the point I'm trying to make is that I was attempting to hurry despite only saving myself about 3 seconds of travel time.
But the hurrying made me feel better, okay?
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Out of breath from my geriatric-style powerwalking, I called my lawyer's office immediately. And... he is on vacation. Won't be back until the next Thursday. I spent the entire weekend going through every panic state a body can feel. I go from angry to depressed to anxious to panicked to angry (again) to scared to more scared to extra more scared. Visions of homelessness danced in my head.
I can't sleep for over a day because my brain won't shut off. Finally my body gives out and I fall asleep on the couch watching random YouTube videos. But falling asleep on the couch is bad because I'm not hooked up to my CPAP machine. Then I finally do hook up my CPAP and my damned mask breaks. Thankfully it has happened before and I have a cool hot glue and duct tape solution. But it is hard to manage hot glue and tape when you haven't slept in days and your eyes will barely stay open. So a few burned fingers later, I am sleeping comfortably in my janky duct tape-laden CPAP mask.
Monday rolls around and I decide to go into problem solving mode. Problem solving is my superpower, so I was going to lean into that in an effort to reduce my anxiety. The denial letter said they had no records from before I was 22, so I put on my detective hat and began the hunt to prove I was sick before 2004. My aunt helped me dig through my mom's document drawer. I distinctly remember an essay I wrote to the disability people back when I first got sick. It was part of the paperwork they had me submit. It was a first hand account of my symptoms back in 2001. It also had an essay from my dad talking about how sick I was. I felt like if I could find that, the records surrounding it would all be related and from the same time period.
We go through the entire drawer and only find a few things that might be helpful. Then I realized my mom had a *second* drawer full of documents and my aunt was blocking it. So we start going through that and find a folder labeled "Ben's Disability Stuff." I would have never kept any of that stuff but my mom kept *everything* and it was all in chronological order.
She is still looking out for me.
And she may have kept me from being homeless.
We find the essay and records of my ECT treatments and the names of doctors and all kinds of evidence of my medical woes before 2004. And even if they won't accept it as direct evidence, I can use these documents to show doctors I was their patient. And my primary care doctor said he would be willing to talk to those past doctors to help me convince them to write a letter on my behalf. All they really have to say is they treated me for severe depression and fatigue. And because my mom kept a list of my prescriptions and my ECT treatments, I'm hoping that will be enough to convince them even if they don't remember treating me.
Wednesday I had my monthly checkup. And I got to peek at my main doctor's records from before 2004. It's all handwritten notes and a little hard to read (bad doctor handwriting is the most accurate stereotype in existence). But it clearly says I had depression and was undergoing ECT treatments. It even mentions one of the doctors I want to write me a letter. It's not a lot, but it is first hand, direct medical evidence from that time period. I think it will be very compelling to whoever reviews my case.
I also talked to the nurses/assistants in the office about copying my entire chart, and I thought we were on the same page, but as you will see later... we were not on the same page.
I exit the building and remember how far away I had parked. And once again I forgot to use my cane—even though I keep a spare in the car. The main lot was full and the disabled parking was occupied, so I had to park in the secondary lot. My legs were holding up so far, but it was already a lot of walking for me. Very slow walking.
His office is in the same complex as the hospital. Which is my next stop. It's the same hospital that I have been going to all of my life. And the hospital where both of my parents died.
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But I need vintage medical records and that is where they keep them.
Or so I thought.
I drive from the medical office parking lot to the hospital parking lot and only the spots farthest away are empty. And because of goddamn global warming, it is 90 fucking degrees in late September. I park, lock my car, grab my man purse, and start hoofing it to the hospital entrance. I'm so nervous about getting these records that I forgot my damn cane again.
My thoughts are basically, "What if they only keep 7 years of records like everyone else? What if the records from Christian Northwest aren't kept with the records from Christian Northeast? (Christian NW doesn't exist anymore.) What if they won't send them to my lawyer? What if it costs a thousand bucks? What if, what if, what if..."
I get to the front desk and ask the lady where the records department is. She gives me directions that my brain is only capable of half paying attention to. Then I realized I left the records release form from my lawyer in the car. So I walk another half mile in the heat to my car without my cane. And initially, my thought was, "Well, at least I can grab my cane once I get the form." But by the time I got to my car my thought was, "AHHHHHHHHH THAT WAS A LONG FUCKING WALK. KILL ME!"
And so I forgot my cane.
Again.
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I get back to the lobby and wave at the lady who gave me directions. I pretend like I remembered and confidently walk in the direction I recall her pointing to. I found the elevator. Thankfully this particular elevator only goes two places. Which seems like a waste of an elevator, but... whatever. I get off on the second floor and am met with a big sign with all the departments and little arrows next to them.
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(I'm sure you knew what I was talking about but I'm trying to break up this wall of text with images because I am a professional blogger person.)
I see "Medical Records" and a leftward arrow. I used my keen detective skills to surmise I should probably veer left.
I find myself at the beginning of the world's longest hallway.
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Without my cane.
And it is flooded with sterile florescent light and the walls are adorned with the world's most inoffensive art.
Here is a painting of a plant. Here is a painting of a bird. Here is a painting of a bird sitting on a plant. Wait, is that a... WATERFALL??
Suddenly Indiana Jones' voice shouts in my thoughts...
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So, if you had to guess, do you think the records department was...
A.) near the beginning of the hallway? B.) in the middle of the hallway? C.) beyond the world's longest hallway in the world's second longest hallway?
As I enter the world's second longest hallway, I notice the art is repeating itself. I've seen that bird sitting on a plant before. I worried I was going in circles, but it turns out they probably just bought the inoffensive art in bulk and weren't concerned about repeats. I get about halfway down the second longest hallway and see a big sign sticking out... "MEDICAL RECORDS."
Note to God: The real world needs a fast travel mode.
I was a big sweaty mess and my legs were like jello. I lumber through the door and find a young woman scrolling through her phone and probably wishing she was anywhere else. She was behind a huge partition with a plexiglass divider—probably still there from COVID days.
I mean, it's still COVID days. But no one is acting like it so I am just pretending it is all over like everyone else seems to.
She notices an out-of-breath Hagrid towering over her and apathetically inquires, "Can I help you?"
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I hold up a finger as I try to gain my composure and figure out exactly what I want to say. I usually rehearse this kind of thing beforehand but with all of the anxious thoughts spiraling through my brain, I totally forgot to do that.
"I need to ask questions about records." "What kind of questions?" "Well, how long are the records?" "I'm sorry?" "What year do they start?" "What year do you need?"
I'm suddenly realizing why I rehearse these things. So I take a moment and breathe deeply. I form the proper question in my mind.
"How far back do you keep medical records?" "30 years."
I shoot my hands up like I just scored a touchdown and say, "OH THANK GOD."
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She is very confused.
"30 years, oh my god. 30 years just saved my life."
She is still very confused.
"And do you have records from Christian Northwest?" "Yes, we have everything from all Christian hospitals."
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I try to give her a brief explanation of my situation and she cuts me off. "Fill out this form."
I look at the clipboard and it is a release form.
Do you remember way back when I walked an extra mile to and from the car to get a release form that my lawyer prepared? Well, turns out they have their own version of that and I walked all that way for nothing.
I finish the form and hand it to the bored, indifferent front desk lady. She tells me someone will be out in a moment. So I sit in the uncomfortable waiting chairs and try to rest a bit. A much tinier young woman walks to the front desk partition thingie and calls out my name. But due to her diminutive stature, she is completely obscured by a pillar and I have no idea where the voice is coming from. We do this little awkward dance on either side of the pillar, attempting to see each other, and finally we both end up on the same side. She starts looking over my form and seemed a little annoyed that I left a section blank. I wasn't sure what kind of records I needed and there was no box that said "everything everywhere all at once."
What I really wanted was any document with my name on it from the beginning of time.
But I was worried about asking for too much labor from this person so I started negotiating for some reason.
I was like, "Well, like, I really need like anything you have from before like 2004. And then maybe, like, some general records after 2004. Like, the pre-2004 records are super important. But, like, I also need to show I was sick all my adult life. So if there are like, summary records? Or, like, something?"
I couldn't stop saying like. I was turning into a Kardashian. Again, some rehearsal was probably warranted.
"I just don't want to be a burden and make you dig up all of my records. I mostly need my ECT records from 2001."
"What is ECT?"
"Shock therapy. It's for depression. I just need to show I was really sick before the age of 22."
"And who is this guy on the form?"
*ramble mode engaged*
"Oh, that is my disability attorney. You see, I'm trying to get a special kind of disability, but I need to prove I was sick before the age of 22. So anything like that before 2004 would be very helpful. But like, if you have less detailed records after 2004 that is good too. Because I may need to prove I've been sick my entire adult life."
*continued rambling until I notice she stopped paying attention*
She did not need to know all of this. And I was not answering the questions she needed answered. I was nervous and babbling and oversharing and I couldn't snap out of it. And I was really concerned if I asked for too much, she was going to be upset. But then she told me all of the records were in a warehouse and she would not actually be finding them for me. She just places an "order" for them. So this weird negotiation thing I was doing to keep her from being annoyed at me was pointless.
And I also realized... this is super important.
I yell at myself, "Ask for everything, stupid! Quit trying to get halfassed records because you're worried about inconveniencing someone."
Finally I just say, "I want every medical record you have from before I was 22 until now."
And she was like, "Sure."
Well... that was easy.
I thanked the tiny lady and the bored lady and exited back into the second longest hallway. My adrenaline was surging. I kept yelling, "30 YEARS!!" in my brain. I had to tell someone this amazing news. I had to tell them right that second or I might burst. So I grab my phone from my man purse and dial Katrina.
The thing is, I only call Katrina when something really bad happens. People don't make phone calls anymore. People text! So when she picked up the phone she answered with a very worried tone. As if somehow a third parent of mine died or something.
"THIRTY YEARS!!!!" "WHAT IS HAPPENING??" "They keep records for 30 years!" "OHHHHHHHHHH!!! That's amazing!"
She probably didn't hop for joy in real life, but in my mind I like to pretend she did. I start explaining everything that just happened and how they most likely have my ECT records and then I realize I am in the middle of the world's second longest hallway and I don't remember which direction leads back to the world's longest hallway. And because I am having unusual and extraordinarily good luck, a medical worker was walking by right at that moment.
"Which way back to the elevator?" "This way!" "Oh great! Thank you!" "Or that way. There are two elevators."
There is that normal luck I recognize.
I can feel the universe realigning itself. But that is okay, because...
THIRTY YEARS, BABY!
I talk to Katrina as I traverse the two longest hallways. Thankfully I was going in the correct direction and found the proper elevator. After a nice chat about various things including problematic 80s movies, we hung up and I decided to treat myself to a hospital cafeteria chicken quesadilla. They are surprisingly delicious and I ate them every single day while my dad was in hospice. Those quesadillas were a single bright spot during one of the hardest times of my life.
So I walk up to the grillmaster and look at the menu.
"Wait, where is the quesadilla?" "We stopped making those two weeks ago."
Universal realignment completed. Luck has returned to its original state.
A male nurse in front of me commiserated. "Yeah, man. I miss them too."
I walked back out to my car both happy and depressed. An odd combination of conflicted feelings. But my day was not over yet. I needed vaccines and groceries. Naturally, I went to the grocery store with the CVS. I got my dad his last booster there, so I was confident they could take care of me. I grab a shopping cart and pick up a few things on the way to the pharmacy. I get in line at the little vaccine check-in spot. The woman in front of me is getting her booster as well. Otherwise, the pharmacy is empty and the three employees are just scrolling through their phones.
After the previous booster seeker was taken care of, I tell the woman I need a booster and a flu vaccine.
"I can give the flu shot now and set an appointment for the booster." "You never required an appointment before." "We just started a few weeks ago." "Can I make an appointment for, like, now?" "No, sorry." "Do you have the booster in stock?" "Yes." "Do you have someone here qualified to give the booster?" "Yes." "Do you have any other appointments right now?" "No."
I tried very hard to keep my composure and remain polite.
"I am disabled. It is very hard for me to get out of the house. Returning another day would be very difficult. Can you please make an exception?"
"I can get you in tomorrow."
I probably should have asked for a manager at this point. But I had no energy for confrontation. She started preparing for me to get the flu shot, but I told her I was going somewhere else. My happy news was quickly being soured by weird rules that made no sense.
But I did see a cool robot.
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I got my groceries and loaded them into my car. Some were frozen items so I made sure to turn the A/C on full blast. I called another pharmacy. It was the one run by the Jamaican family who came out to the house to give my parents boosters during the height of COVID. I asked if they could do walk-in vaccinations without an appointment. And in that beautiful accent, they replied, "Sure, come on by. We'll take care of you."
Their shop is in Ferguson. Which I'm sure the news has convinced people is a constant warzone or something. But the main street, West Florrisant, is actually really neat in spots. A lot of small businesses catering to the Black community. There was a soul food place and an African hair braiding place and a Taco Bell. Okay, it wasn't all Black-themed shops, but the pharmacy was directly next to the "Wumzy African Attire" tailoring shop that was combined with the party planning store.
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And in the back was an African beauty supply depot.
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Three shops in one! Just a very efficient use of space.
And looking through the window of the tailoring shop was like a feast of colors for the eyes. I don't know how they get fabric so bright and colorful. Really beautiful patterns too. I tried not to look like a creep while staring inside so I just walked reeeeeally slow toward the pharmacy entrance.
I just wish people knew that side of Ferguson. It's a beautiful community that was really dragged through the mud by the national media.
I digress.
I walked into the pharmacy and it was long and skinny. They had a few shelves with over-the-counter health products. But the main area was pretty empty. I guess they want to make sure they can accommodate long lines without people having to wait outside. But their working area seemed really cramped. There were some awards on the wall and news articles. Apparently, they are very involved with vaccinating the local refugee community. Something you won't see at pointless appointment-having CVS. I just felt like I was in the right place even if my frozen items were thawing and my legs were buckling from constantly forgetting my cane in the car.
The shop was run by the pharmacist and matriarch. Her son took my information. He looked about 18 and was a bit shy—but very kind and helpful. He directed me to this little partition they set up for vaccinations and they had a liquor bottle full of hand sanitizer. The label had a big "DO NOT DRINK" warning. I found a picture of the exact one on Google.
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I washed my hands and rolled up my sleeve. The pharmacist greeted me with my shots prepared. Some people have a sort of magic touch when it comes to giving shots. I'm not sure if it is a special technique or just lots of experience, but aside from a little pressure, I didn't even feel the needles going in. And my arm was only mildly sore despite the double shots.
I really wanted to thank her for sending someone to vaccinate my parents when no one else would. But I was really tired and chickened out. So I just thanked her and drove home.
I unloaded my groceries and collapsed on the couch. I could barely move at that point. Everything hurt.
But... 30 years.
I was feeling good the next day despite everything. My body hurt, but my brain was contented from my success. But there was more to do and everything was trending downhill. I called those doctors mentioned in my personal medical records. I knew it was a long shot, but I asked if they kept records from 2001. They did not. However, I thought the psychiatrist who did my ECT was dead. And it turns out he is just old-as-heck and still practicing. So even though he doesn't have records and probably doesn't remember me, I am hopeful he will write me a letter.
My other psychiatrist from back then is also still practicing. No records there either.
So far my phone anxiety wasn't getting the better of me. But I still had more calls to make and I could feel my brain starting to get melty.
My pocket knife doesn't open correctly and I couldn't get anyone to email me back from SpyderCo. So I called their office in Colorado and tried to get someone to talk to me. I got bounced to three different people and finally a guy told me that model is just hard to open. So that was pointless.
Melt. Melt. Melt.
And finally, I had to call the dreaded CPAP supply place.
It did not go well. At all.
You can read more about it at that link, but the short version is I got angrily sighed at for asking reasonable questions about what the hell "chart notes" are. And the lady refused to answer those questions for no reason I can fathom. She eventually brought me to tears and got angry at me for doing so. And it turned out the call was pointless as well.
Oh, and my lawyer was sick. Remember him? Vacation guy? Who skipped town at the exact moment I got my disability denial letter? Yeah, I had been waiting for 7 grueling, anxiety-filled days to speak with him and he gets sick the day he returns.
Brain is melty goo.
Hey, Universe! I think you are overcorrecting with that luck realignment. I appreciate the 30 years of records thing, but can you let me enjoy it a little?
Friday arrives and I still have calls to make. The CPAP lady really messed up my brain and so just dialing the numbers was freaking me out. But I decided to start with the worst first. I called the CPAP lady and she finally had her precious "chart notes" and put my order through. She was cheerful and helpful and I was confused but thankful.
I thought maybe things were looking up in my phone call adventures.
My next call was to my primary care doctor's office.
One thing you need to know about my doctor is he is a bit of a... hot mess. A very smart, capable doctor. He knows his stuff. I suspect he has an eidetic memory due to his instant recall of medication names and doses and things that happened 8 years ago and detailed descriptions of medical conditions he only heard about in school 40 years ago. Aside from that, he is kind and compassionate and he has my back no matter what.
But he is technologically stuck in the 80s. His personal life is a roller coaster of drama. He once hired his girlfriend of 2 months to work at the office and his regular staff secretly whispered "She's so awful" behind his back. (They broke up soon after.) He is disorganized and constantly running late. And he takes on tons of frustrating patients because they have nowhere else to go. I admire him for treating so many poor elderly folks without any family to take care of them, but you can tell it is extremely challenging at times and a lot of that labor is delegated to his staff.
His office manager is probably the only person on the planet who can tolerate him being a hot mess.
Unfortunately, she is also a hot mess in completely different ways.
She tries to speedrun through everything. It's probably because she has a million things to do and is trying to fit 12 hours of work into an 8 hour workday. I try to be sympathetic and understanding of that. But one of her methods for speeding things along is attempting to use her psychic powers. You will start telling her what you need and she will do this thing where she cuts you off and tries to predict said need.
"I need a prescription for..." "Your thyroid meds are due, right? I'll send it over to the pharmacy." "...insulin. But I have a question about..." "So thyroid and insulin? No problem. I'll send it over." "...increasing my dosage." "Wait, what's yer question, hon?" "Was it 50 units..." "No, it's says 100. Okay? I'll send it over. Take care." "...twice per day or 100 units once in the morning?"
Often her predictions are so bad that it actually takes a lot more time to correct her than it would if she had just let you finish speaking. And this is especially problematic for me because I rehearse everything I need to say and she constantly interrupts and so I have to end up improvising new things to say that I never accounted for. And I'm already anxious and not thinking clearly so I do a poor job of explaining my needs and it just ends up in disaster.
So I have a complicated situation. I need my entire written chart copied and sent to my lawyer. I know it is a lot of work for the office staff. They probably have to copy several hundred pages. But this is probably the most important evidence in my disability case. And my lawyer has already volunteered to pay the several hundred dollars it will cost. It's worth it because if my case goes well, I could get years of back pay.
I call and get the young woman whom I really like on his staff. She is very quiet and unassuming but secretly the star of the office. Like a ninja of competence. If you really need something done properly without mistakes, she is the best one to go to. But her job does not include handling the records, so she transfers me to the office nurse. The office nurse does not process new information well. You often have to explain things several times. And if she gives up trying to understand, she hands you off to the office manager.
The Final Boss, if you will. I was really hoping I could avoid that.
"Okay, so my lawyer needs all of my written records..."
"He needs to fax a form saying what he needs, okay honey?"
"He already faxed a release form asking for records and I brought in a new copy yesterday with all of his mailing information..."
"He didn't fax anything. He needs to tell us what he needs. I'm not seeing any form. Just tell him to call me."
"He is out sick today and he already faxed the form and I brought a second one just in case. I signed it and dated it and I watched Competence Ninja put it in my chart. It asks for everything..."
"Okay, I see it here. This doesn't look right. He needs to tell us what he needs us to send him."
"It says in the letter, 'to release any medical information, including medical records, written letters, treatment reports, testing results, or similar information.' Should it say something different?"
"I've been doing this 20 years and I've never seen anything like this. He needs to be more specific. I ain't sending him all that, hon."
"So, this is for my disability case. I already talked to the nurse about this. And I know it is a lot, but the doctor's records are the only direct evidence that I've been sick since 2001."
"So you just need something from 2001? Okay, the lawyer needs to fax something saying that."
"I need the entire handwritten chart copied and sent to the lawyer. We need a full record of my illness because..."
"This is ridiculous. You're lawyer is fucking lazy. I've never seen anything like this. And I'm worried he is not going to represent your interests."
"This is not a normal disability claim. If you'd allow me to explain I think you'd understand why I need..."
"Disability should already have all this. We shouldn't need to send this. This is fucking ridiculous and you need a new lawyer. You're going to lose your case with his lazy ass."
"This isn't normal disability. I need to prove that I've been sick for a long time and..."
"This is going to cost a fortune, you know? We charge 50 cents per page. You're going to be out hundreds of dollars."
"Okay, but I will be out thousands of dollars if I don't get this copied."
"Fuck it. I am going to copy this ONCE. No more after this. UNDERSTOOD?"
And... she hung up on me.
My heart was beating out of my chest with panic and my eyes were blurry with tears. And in that moment, I thought I had done something wrong. My doctor gave me his personal mobile number so I call him up with tears apparent in my voice. I explain what just happened and that I was really sorry and that I didn't mean to upset her. He told me she is "just like that sometimes" and I shouldn't take it to heart. They have a very serious deadline for something due that day and she was very upset and I was collateral damage. I asked him to apologize for me and he said there was no need. He said we'd work it all out on Monday when this deadline wasn't stressing everyone out.
It wasn't until I calmed down a bit that I realized I did absolutely nothing wrong. That she was just being a big jerk and taking her other problems out on me. And I was probably the one deserving of an apology. I also remembered this is not the first time she has blown up at me. She was the one who tried to make me get a ventilator instead of a proper CPAP machine years ago. She said, "My mom has one and it works fine." And I was like, "So if I travel I'm supposed to take 12 pounds of medical equipment instead of a 1 pound device that fits neatly into a backpack?"
I get why my doctor made excuses for her. She works very hard and puts up with him. He'd never be able to find anyone that would last a week doing that job. And I have a feeling he probably defended me after I called. I played what he said back in my brain and noticed a frustrated tone. Despite what he said, it seems clear he was pissed.
I can make amends and figure things out with her. That isn't an issue. But I am worried that between her and CPAP lady, all of the progress I've made trying to reduce my telephobia was erased. I really was getting better calling people. I used to need Katrina hanging out on Skype while I called anyone as moral support. And while it still helps, I've gotten a lot better at calling strangers on my own. But now, I'm not so sure.
I might ask if there is an office email address I can use from now on. If I can write out what I need there is no way to get interrupted. I can be clear and detailed and use my writing skills to communicate way better than my phone skills.
I don't know.
It was just a crappy way to end a stressful, exhausting week.
But it wasn't the end!
Friday evening my sick lawyer finally called. I had rehearsed all kinds of things I wanted to say to him. But it turns out, all of my emails already did most of the talking—proof that I write a great email. He was really impressed with all of my detective work. And he said if those records pan out, he is very optimistic about my case going forward. He also said that he was expecting a denial. And it was probably good that we got that out of the way quickly. And now we get to mount more of a defense, which is what lawyers are good at. We talked for about 20 minutes and came up with a battle plan. He explained the process going forward. But he mentioned one thing that worried me.
This could take a while.
A lot longer than I was expecting.
I explained that I currently have a runway until about June 2024. That's when the mortgage money runs out. However, my brother should be willing to release my inheritance in March. I hope. I have a hard time trusting anything my brother says anymore. But if he does, then I should have another year of mortgage payments. But I am definitely going to have a Plan B just in case my brother finds a new way to disrespect my father's wishes.
The lawyer said there is a quick thing and a long thing. The quick thing has a low chance of success. But it is worth trying. The long thing is a hearing with a Social Security lawyer. He said a lot of these lawyers are miserable and don't want to be there and don't really care. Which is a good thing because they'll just be like, "Fine, whatever." But it can take a long time to get a hearing due to backlogs.
So, as long as I can gather all the evidence and the hospital records have my ECT stuff, I think there is room for hope. A little hope. After years of chronic illness I know hope is sometimes dangerous. So I allot a tiny bit of hope to keep me going forward, but not enough hope to leave me devastated if things go tits up.
So... umm... I think that is the end of this novel of a post. I feel bad that I don't have a big climax or twist or cliffhanger. Should I add a big CGI dragon fight?
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Even though a more down-to-earth kung fu fight with my brother would be a more satisfying conclusion?
Or I could pull an M. Night Shyamalan and reveal that I've been dead for quite some time.
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This post is getting really long.
Why are you still reading this?
I am thankful that you are. I just needed to get all of that out. I hope I wrote it in a compelling way and you weren't bored.
I love you all.
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piratefalls · 6 months
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“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."
i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.
(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings
One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.
God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea
["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.
Familiar Gravity by cmere
“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.”   Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.
Am I the Asshole? by everwitch
AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.
Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy
To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.
A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor
It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.
this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy
It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.
Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold
Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah.  - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.
Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel
“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)
Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce
Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.
thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du
“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.
you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)
Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU
Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515
"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.
every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme
“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.
The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte
This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.
The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose
Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz ([email protected]) From: Natasha Wallace ([email protected]) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash
lying in the low light by smc_27
The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.
what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove
'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.
Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays
Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.
—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.
As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles
So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.
We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells
Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?
where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained
Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.
We'll Invite Something In by smc_27
Alex is grinning a little too hard.  This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.  The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.
Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis
“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.
behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis
Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.
The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses
Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.
we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland
Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.
words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer
So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.
The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)
When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London.  Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it.  “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.”  “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”
come and get me by rizcriz
The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.
Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge
"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.
idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.
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transmascissues · 5 months
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i totally understand why some people have read my posts about my recovery experience and been a bit freaked out by it if they haven't gotten top surgery themselves yet, and i also totally understand other people who have had top surgery wanting to reassure those people so they don't get scared out of having top surgery.
what i don't love is when, in an attempt to be reassuring, other people who have had top surgery say "well, my experience was much easier than this and yours might be too. don't be scared of having this kind of recovery, because you might not!"
if you had a super smooth top surgery recovery, i'm so happy for you and i'll be the first to admit that i envy you. i'm genuinely glad you got lucky! but i also know that, when i was preparing for top surgery, i wanted to know how to prepare for if i did have a rougher time and need more support, because being pleasantly surprised by a better time than you expected is much easier than being unpleasantly surprised by difficulties no one prepared you for. trying to find out how to prepare and being met with varying degrees of "don't worry, that didn't happen to me" was infuriating. the chorus of "that didn't happen to me" didn't do anything for me when one day post-op it took three people to figure out how to lift me into a sitting position without hurting me, and i never want anyone to find themselves in a situation like that totally unprepared. i worked really hard to get ready because i'm disabled and knew my body never has a chill reaction to anything, and i want other people to be able to prepare themselves too, whether they have a specific reason to or not.
not to mention, nothing in my experiences so far has been some worst case scenario that you should pray never happens to you. none of the things i've described in my posts have been complications; it's all just natural parts of recovering. every single time my surgeon has seen me, she's assured my that i'm healing perfectly so far. so yeah, things have been rough, but this isn't a horror story that i'm telling. it's not a warning or a cautionary tale. it's all totally normal and expected, even if it is more intense than some people's experiences. it just doesn't feel great to have my experience treated as something awful when it's all just part of the process.
the confidence that comes with knowing what could happen and feeling ready to face it is such a powerful thing, and i want people to be able to have that going into their surgery. i want them to be able to trust in their knowledge of what could happen and feel equipped to handle whatever comes their way. i want them to know that it'll be worth it in the end, even if it's hard for a while. i want them to know that top surgery is a wonderful thing and is worth doing, even if it's a rough experience, and that they can have a hard time and still come out the other side thrilled with the outcome. i want them to be able to look that fear in the face and say "yeah, maybe it'll suck for a few weeks, but then i'll be so much happier for the entire rest of my life, so fuck it, let's do it."
if i've learned anything over the past week, it's that top surgery is scary but it's also so worth it. if it would make your life better, go for it. i promise, the fear will be worth it. and honestly? a lot of the scary shit isn't nearly as scary once you've experienced it and learned how to work with it.
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Something to think about (Tierna x Reader)
Something that no one tells you when you start writing is how hard titles are. It literally takes me so long and I still don't like them. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)
Words: 2.2K
Tierna jumped on my bed after we had managed to escape to my room, pulling me down next to her. "Do you think we should tell them? It doesn't feel right sneaking around anymore."
"I-I-I do- I don-"
"Hey, take a breath for me," I took a deep breath, relaxing against Tiernas side. "There's no rush if you're not ready or don't want to yet. It's just something we should think about."
It's not that I didn't want people to know about us, I was just nervous about how Ali and Ash would react to me dating a team mate. I had been living with them since I was sixteen. My parents had kicked me out leaving me homeless. I had randomly ran into them one day, scared, hungry and dirty. They had taken me in. From the day I stepped foot into their house, they had treated me as if I was family. Even their families treated me like family. Now 7 years later, we were inseparable, I was very open with them most of the time, knowing that they were there if I needed them. I still had my problems with anxiety, still worrying about them leaving me sometimes or that they would get tired of me, but it was getting better as time went on. 
The only thing I had been hiding recently was that Tierna and I had been dating for a year now. We had met at the first camp I had gone to with them about a year and a half ago, hitting it off pretty much instantly. Once camp ended, we started texting everyday, then texting turned to phone calls then video calls late into the night, often ending with us falling asleep still on face time. 
When I finally got called up and ended up roomed with Tierna, the only thing that changed was location. We still talked for hours, were together all the time and more often than not fell asleep cuddled up together until it got to the point where the second bed was forgotten. I couldn't tell you who made the first move, it just kind of happened. We had randomly woken up in the middle of the night, talking quietly until we started to fall asleep again. Then we were suddenly kissing each other goodnight as if we had done it hundreds of times before and it wasn't our first kiss. We hadn't talked about it properly for a few days, just kept kissing like it wasn't a new thing. To everyone else, we were just bestfriends, but in reality she was the person I had quickly fallen madly in love with and wanted to be with for life. The distance sucked, I wanted nothing more than to be with her, but she was worth it.
I was irrationally scared that Ali and Ash would hate me for dating a teammate or that they would hate Tierna for dating me. They had never minded me dating, it was just this time they knew and were close with the person. They were protective, mostly it was fine, comforting even. When it came to my relationships though, they were sometimes too protective to the point where some of my past girlfriends had been too afraid to be around them. I didn't want that to happen with Tierna, I wanted her to be apart of my life in every aspect. Deep down, I knew none of that was likely to actually happen. They loved and trusted Tierna, they loved how close we were and I knew they just wanted me to be happy, but I wasn't able to push the fear away enough to actually find out. 
"You know I love you right? That I am so proud to be your girlfriend and I want to shout it from the roof tops, but I'm scared T, I'm scared," I whispered the last bit, half expecting her to finally have had enough and tell me to get over it or give me an ultimatum like past relationships had. Instead, Tierna wrapped her arms around me, holding me close and leaving a lingering kiss to my head. 
"I know love. I know you're scared and it's okay. I hope you know I'm not trying to rush you or make you do anything you don't want to do. It just feels wrong to be sneaking around in their house, but that doesn't mean we have to tell them right now. I just think we need to start thinking about doing it. There's no rush though, we'll figure it out together in time. I'm with you every single step of the way."
"How did I get so lucky with you? I love you T, so fucking much."
---
In hindsight, Tierna and I knew better than to fall asleep without putting clothes back on when we were at my house. This time though, we had practically passed out. Ali and Ash respected my privacy, they pretty much always knocked, but anything could happen. It just so happened that tonight was that night. I was woken up by a rustling noise beside me, turning to find Ali looking around my room for something.
I forgot about the fact I was still very much naked. Thankfully I was covered, but it did stop me from panicking in the moment. Maybe she hadn't even noticed, I thought briefly. She definitely did notice because as soon as I spoke up, her eyes widened slightly and she looked away, "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, I know this isn't great and I didn't mean to wake you up or find out something you obviously didn't want us to know yet. Sloane left her snuggly in here and has been awake for hours refusing to go to bed without it. I won't tell Ash if you don't want me to, we can forget I know about whatever this is."
Tierna started stirring beside me so I quickly ran my fingers through her hair, knowing it would settle her again. I knew this would embarrass her and I didn't want her to deal with this right now. Surprisingly, I wasn't freaking out as much as I expected, "It's okay, I'm not mad. I know Sloane loves her snuggly. I don't mind if you tell Ash, honestly, it'll probably help. We can talk more in the morning."
It took me a long time to go back to sleep after being woken up by Ali. My anxiety was through the roof now that Ali knew about us. Well maybe she didn't know the extent of our relationship, but she knew something was going on. Ash would likely know now as well. It was sort of a relief I guess, it took the stress out of having to tell them myself, while also pushing me to have a conversation I was terrified of having. 
"Good morning baby, you're awake early," Tierna mumbled kissing my collar bone. I had woken up almost an hour ago after tossing and turning all night. Tierna always woke up first so it was weird. When I didn't answer, Tierna turned so she was lying on her stomach, looking up at me with concern written all over her face. "I don't like this non response. What's wrong?"
I just tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, admiring how beautiful she was even when she just woke up, making her frown deeper. "Please don't go quiet on me. It's just me and you. Let me in Y/n/n."
Everything came tumbling out. I rambled on about what happened, my feelings and even going as far as apologising though I knew it wasn't really my fault. Tierna just lay there, listening to my rambling because she knew it helped when I was overly anxious. Then she kissed me with such softness and love that all the anxiousness faded away in that moment. 
"For starters, this isn't your fault so don't apologise, we both fell asleep naked. Secondly, I am so proud of you. You chose to let her tell Ash, you could have kept it hidden from her and forgotten about it, but you didn't. I'm so proud of you pushing away the fear enough to do that. Lastly, I am here beside you for all of this. We can go down when you're ready and start the conversation when you're ready. There's still no rush baby, we'll bring it up when you're ready okay?"
"Thank you. Can we cuddle for a while?"
"Like I would ever turn down cuddles."
Tierna decided to have a shower before coming down while I decided to get it over with and just go down. Ali was making breakfast while Ash played with the kids. They didn't bring up the whole relationship thing, instead offering me coffee and asking how I slept. I was once again relieved and anxious at the same time. In some ways I was glad nothing had changed, but I also wanted to just get it over with. We made small talk until Tierna came down standing next to me as I sat on the bar stool. I wrapped my arms around her, resting my head against her while she ran her hand across my back. I noticed Ali look at us with a small smile before I blurted out, "Can we just get this over with?"
Tierna kissed my temple, "I'll take the kids outside so you can talk, unless you want me to stay?"
"Thank you hun. I'll be okay by myself."
Ali handed me coffee as Ash came to stand next to her on the other side of the island. Ash was always the more protective one so it surprised me when she smiled softly, "This doesn't have to be a big thing Y/n, whatever you have going on with Tierna is you're business. You don't have to explain yourself to us."
"I know, but I want to. Tierna is my girlfriend and has been for a year now. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's not that I wanted to hide it, but I was scared."
Ali frowned and it made guilt shoot through me. The last thing I ever wanted was for them to feel like I didn't trust them or was scared of them. "Why were you scared? You know you can tell us anything no matter what right?"
"I know and I trust you both more than pretty much anyone ever. It wasn't a necessary fear, I knew that, but it was there regardless. I guess I was worried you wouldn't like it because we're teammates or because of how close you are with her. Also that it would change how you see and interact with her. I didn't want that to happen."
"We love Tierna, she's baby T, that doesn't change because you're dating her. If anything we're kinda stoked about it, I mean we know T, we know she'll treat you well, it's who she is. Besides, your little display before was adorable. You practically lit up when she kissed you. Now that I think of it, you always look incredibly happy when she's around."
An involuntary smile appeared as I glanced at Tierna who was running around with a grin looking adorable. "I am, I've never been this happy with anyone before. Tierna is the first person I've dated where I don't doubt her love for me because she is constantly showing me even if it's just tiny gestures. She is amazing in so many ways. I love her. I'm sorry about what you saw last night by the way."
"I didn't really see anything thankfully, but I'm the one who should be apologising. Your room is your private space and I invaded that, so I'm sorry. Besides you're a couple, couples have sex. I'm just glad we didn't hear it."
"Ali," I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. "I meant when I said I wasn't mad. Sloane needs her snuggly and I appreciate you trying not to wake us up. Honestly, I'm kind of glad it happened because you two mean the world to me and I wanted you to know, but the fear kept getting in the way. It was the push I needed. Can I talk to you about something else quickly?"
"Of course."
"You guys can get really protective, in the past it's kinda scared people away which I guess thinking back wasn't the worst because they weren't the best, but can you just not with Tierna? I trust her undoubtedly, you trust her so it's not needed. I really love her and I don't want her to be scared away which I don't think will happen becau-"
Ash covered my hand with hers, effectively making me stop talking, "Hey, we get it. We know how we can be and right now at least, it's not needed. We will always be protective of you, that's not going to change based on who you date, but we will tone it down. She does get the shovel talk though, that's non-negotiable. What about the team? Do they know?"
"Thank you. No they don't know, I wanted you guys to know first, but now I don't care if they know."
Tierna came back inside, Sloane going to play again while Tierna pecked my lips and handed me Ocean. They watched us with small smiles, "Your whole relationship makes more sense now. You always seemed a little closer then bestfriends, I mean you were always constantly visiting each other and physically close to each other. I suspected maybe a crush, but not relationship."
"Gotta keep you guessing sometimes."
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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year
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Hello, I love your writing and it really makes my day honestly.
And I was wondering if you could do an x reader with either Larissa Regina Mills or Lesso. I'm kinda indecisive lol
I was listening to "like real people do" by Hozier And was hoping you could do a story based off of/around it mainly the line
"Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, We should just kiss like real people do."
Turns out, I'm indecisive too, so you can have all three based on that lyric. I hope you like it!
Larissa
You only came to the weathervane for one reason, and it wasn’t the excellent hot chocolate. You’d noticed the same woman coming in week after week, and after asking around you’d come to find out where she was from. Nevermore. The one place you had been warned against.
You didn’t care.
You’d pursued her with an intensity you’d never done anything else. Larissa Weems was a goddess walking amongst mortals and you were determined to make her yours. She was all you wanted in Jericho.
Only she didn’t seem to understand it at all. No matter how many times you slid into the booth across from her, lavishing smiles and compliments on her, she remained as icy as always. You kept trying to melt her, wanting her to see how serious you were taking it. She’d yet to scare you off, and you were sure she never would. The only way you’d stop was if she told you to, and she hadn’t yet. There was still hope.
It was on a wintery afternoon that you found her, sitting, sipping her coffee. You slid in across from her, not even bothering to order a drink of your own. She was all you wanted in the shop.
“I don’t know how you do it, but every time I see you you’re more beautiful each time,” you said, “someone so beautiful shouldn’t have to buy their own coffee. Let me buy you the next one.”
“I have no interest in being the butt of your joke,” she said, “so you can leave me alone now.”
“Joke?’ You shook your head, “you think I’m joking about my feelings?”
“I know the reputation Nevermore has in Jericho,” she replied.
“So?”
“So I know what this means,” she replied, “I know how people in town feel about outcasts.”
“I think if anyone is listening to the stereotypes around town it isn’t me,” you replied.
She stared at you for a moment. You waited, giving her time to digest your accusation. You figured you weren’t the one with the hang up, that she was bringing her own prejudices to your interactions. All you wanted was for her to look past your differences.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” she said, keeping her voice even.
“If you’re willing to ignore whatever it is the town says about outcasts and normies, then I am too. We’re just people, not whatever they think we are,” you said, “I’d like the chance to show you exactly how serious my feelings for you are.”
“And how do you propose you do that?” she asked.
“One kiss, just one,” you suggested, “if after that you’re still not feeling the spark, I’ll leave you alone.”
“One kiss? That’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at you before looking around the relatively crowded Weathervane.
“If you’re okay with that,” you replied, shrugging. You had nothing to hide.
“Go on then.” You could tell she thought she was calling your bluff.
You stood, sliding into the seat beside her. Her eyes widened but she didn’t move. You’d never been that close to her and it was a little overwhelming. She was so beautiful and you found the floral scent that seemed to cling to her skin intoxicating.
You placed your hand on her shoulder, shifting closer until your thigh pressed against hers. Her eyes darted down to it, then back to you.
“You’re still sure?” you asked, to wanting to make her uncomfortable.
“Of course,” she replied.
You drew closer slowly, giving her time to change her mind. When she didn’t try to push you away or escape from you, you smiled to yourself.
The first brush of lips was like heaven. You pressed closer, doing your best to show her the way you would worship her for the rest of eternity. She gasped into your mouth and you let your tongue slip in, hoping she could feel the spark you’d been feeling since the first conversation.
And then she was kissing you back. One of her hands landed on your thigh, the other threading through the hair at the nape of your neck. She surprised a moan out of you, pulling you closer. If you weren’t in such a public place you would be climbing into her lap, making her feel the electricity that was running over your skin.
“I suppose one date wouldn’t be be a terrible idea,” she murmured against your lips.
Ignoring the whispering around you, you kissed her again, long and slow, taking your time now you knew it wasn’t your only chance. You had plenty of time to kiss her again and again and again. The rest of your life if she’d let you. Which it seemed she might.
Regina
You could stare at her forever. That was the simple fact of the matter. Regina was a work of art, one that was constantly changing and growing, and always so beautiful. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky to know her.
You’d ended up getting caught up when Anna was transported to Storybrooke, doing your best to help her save her sister. And you’d chosen to stay when they were sent back to Arendelle. Because of Regina. Because you’d fallen in love amongst all the fighting. Because you had hope.
All of which is to say, you were now absolutely screwed.
Being normal, one of the few people in Storybrooke without magic or a fairytale of your own, led to you feeling as if you were fading into the background. After helping Anna and Elsa as best you could, you hadn’t been called in to help since. Which you understood, but it did mean you didn’t get to see Regina that much.
Except for when she came into Granny’s. You’d gotten a job there, finding it not much different from back home. You’d worked in a tavern back there, and giving people warm food and drink was second nature to you. Seeing her in the diner was the best part of your day.
“Coffee, please,” she requested, slumping over the counter.
“Coming right up,” you said, offering her your brightest smile. She was so beautiful in the afternoon sunlight streaming in. She was always beautiful. It made your heart hurt.
Putting the cup down in front of her, you hoped she would take a moment to look down at the heart you’d drawn for her. You turned back, going for coy. You’d been flirting with her since you’d arrived, and you thought she’d been flirting back. It felt like flirting. It made your heart stutter in your chest like flirting did.
When you glanced back over your shoulder she was looking down into her mug, a slight smile on her face. You pressed your lips together to keep from grinning.
“Alright, out,” Granny said, shooing you away, “your shift is done and I’m not willing to pay you overtime.”
“It’s already that time?” You looked up at the clock, “time flies when you’re serving pie I guess.”
You tugged your apron off, handing it over to Granny. She offered you a fond smile, patting your hand as you walked out from around the counter.
“It certainly flies when you’re flirting with your favourite customer,” she said, chuckling when your cheeks warmed. You stuck your tongue out at her, turning back to look at Regina. She was gone, the coffee left untouched, bell jingling over the door.
You froze before bolting out the door. Head whipping one way and the other, you frantically searched for her in the street. Hurrying away from you, heels clacking on the pavement, her familiar figure was easy enough to spot. You ran after her.
“Did I make your coffee wrong?” you asked as you caught up to her.
“No, it was perfect,” she said, not quite looking at you.
“You didn’t even touch it.” You shot her a teasing smile. She didn’t return it, “okay, well, I’m sorry for the bad coffee.”
“The coffee was fine,” she snapped. You swallowed past the lump growing in your throat.
“Alright, well, something is wrong and I’m going to guess it’s because of me so I’m still sorry because I never want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable or anything,” you said, hearing yourself ramble but not able to stop.
“It wasn’t you,” she said, stopping.
You turned back to her, watching as she brushed her hair off her face. She wasn’t looking at you, looking at a point just over your shoulder. Your heart clenched.
“What happened?” you asked.
“I think, perhaps, it would be a good idea if we stopped seeing each other,” she said.
“Why?” You felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over you.
“We are not meant to be together,” she said, “I’m sorry, but this has to stop now before anyone else gets hurt.”
“Anyone else?” She wasn’t making any sense.
“Anyone else other than me,” she said.
“You think this won’t hurt me?” you asked. No, demanded.
“It doesn’t matter.” She turned away from you.
You grabbed her arm, forcing her to face you. She snarled, trying to pull out of your grip but you held on tighter, stepping closer to her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Why do you think we aren’t meant to be together?” you asked, softening your voice, not wanting her to feel nervous or like you were attacking her.
“Just look at the fairytales in this realm,” she said, “we’re from completely different places.”
“Different places we can travel to,” you countered, “we’re not from different realms.”
“But we are from different stories,” she said.
“Do you think something that small is going to stop me from loving you?”
You said it a lot louder than you’d intended. Her mouth fell open and you saw her eyes flicking around, as if unable to look at you full in the face. You stepped closer to her, until you felt her body heat radiating towards you.
“Just forget how the fairytales go here. We make our own fairytale.”
She finally looked at you properly. She gave her head a small shake but there was something in her gaze that gave you hope. Something soft and yearning, like she was beginning to believe in you.
“We’ve been dancing around this for too long, so I need you to know I’m going to kiss you now,” you said.
She didn’t say anything which you took to mean she was okay with it. You let your lips brush against hers, soft, barely there, giving her time to push you away. She didn’t. Instead, she grasped the back of your neck, pulling you against her, kissing you hard. You sighed into her mouth, only half believing it was actually happening.
She nipped at your lower lip, tongue sweeping in, leaving you feeling thoroughly hot under the collar. All you could do was hold on, kissing her with all the unspoken feelings you’d been hiding from her.
Someone wolf-whistled further down the street. She broke away, staring over her shoulder at Hook, glaring at him. You ignored him, cupping her cheek and pulling her into another kiss. You weren’t about to stop now that you finally had her.
Lesso
Lesso watched from her tower window as your sword shone in the sunlight. You weren’t staying long, only teaching for a semester at both schools, one of the most renowned knights in their realm. Her lip curled, thinking about all the good you’d done, all the evil you’d vanquished.
You shook your hair out of your face, your smile wide. You were sparring with one of the students. You held your hand out, gesturing for them to come towards you. The prince ran at you and you laughed, properly laughed at him. His sword swung and you ducked, rolling out of the way. With a booted foot, you kicked him in the ass, sending him sprawling to the ground.
She turned away, but not before she saw your face turned up to the sky, your smile brighter than the sun.
It became part of her daily routine to watch you teach your class out in the sun. She hated it, the way she was drawn to her window, unable to stop watching you. Your reputation was well deserved and it made her blood boil.
She found herself lying in bed at night, your lessons playing through her mind. She could see the way you handled your sword, the way you moved, so graceful and so powerful. Your smile, the joy you took in the fights, was a sight that made her heart race but she couldn’t figure out why.
Then Dovey was standing at her doorway, smiling that so called charming smile, while you stood at her shoulder. She lent back in her throne like chair, watching you approach.
“I’ve heard you’ve yet to meet our resident knight,” Dovey said, “that’s rather rude given our students are enjoying the lessons so.”
“Yes, yes, I’m acting in a manner befitting evil,” she said.
“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you,” you said.
She finally looked at you properly, and you were so much more radiant than the distance had suggested. You were smiling, but not as brightly as you did in the ring, softer, more intimate. Your eyes were twinkling at her and you held out your hand to her.
She took your hand, surprised by how pleasant the callouses on your palm were against her skin. You were warm and when she looked back at your face, you were biting down on your bottom lip. She wasn’t expecting her breath to catch as she looked at you.
“You’re the reason for the dusty footprints on my students,” she said.
“Guilty as charged.” And the way you smiled made her wish she could ask to go toe to toe with you.
From there, she slowly began to creep closer and closer to your lessons, her interest only growing as she watched. You were surprisingly soft with your students, despite resoundingly beating them in every match. You weren’t afraid to adjust grips and stance, shouting encouragements into the ring. Although you did seem to love throwing them curve balls.
Her favourite was when you caught her eye just before vines began to sprout out of the ground, reaching for the ankles of your students. Her answering grin as one was dragged to ground lit your face up. Maybe you were more interesting than she first thought.
After one such lesson, the ground muddied from a wave of water that had drenched your students, she approached you. You were standing in the middle of the grounds, head tilted back to the sky, grin on your lips.
“I’m surprised Dovey keeps you around when you treat her students so abominably,” she said, trying for a conversational tone.
“She knows they could be attacked by anything,” you replied, “no such thing as a fair fight.”
The way you were looking at her wasn’t fair. It was like you were imagining pinning her down while also yearning to be underneath her. Like you were curious to see what would happen if you let her test out her magic on you. Like you wanted to do unspeakable things with her.
“Not when you’re fighting evil,” she replied.
“Is good always fair in a fight?” you asked, vaulting over the wooden fence, “I must have missed that lesson.”
The twinkle in your eye was the most enticing thing she’d ever seen.
“You’ve been watching my lessons,” you said.
Her heart stuttered but she tilted her chin up, looking down her nose at you. You swiped your hair out of your face again, looking up at her from under fluttering eyelashes. You looked so good, like a perfect little knight fighting for what was right.
“I bet you didn’t expect me to notice, but I did,” you continued, taking those steps towards her, “you’ve been watching me since I arrived.”
You stopped right in front of her, and there was so much mischief in your face it took her breath away.
“Luckily for you, I’ve been watching you too,” you whispered.
“In order to find my weaknesses?” she asked, lifting her eyes to meet yours.
“Because I think you’re the most enchanting creature in existence.”
She froze. You were looking at her, waiting, head tilted to the side. She wanted your eyes off her, didn’t want you to see the way she was struggling to compose herself. You were smiling. She wanted you to stop smiling. It was making her heart do funny things.
“You’re good,” she spat. Your lips pressed together but she could see the mirth on your face.
“And you’re evil,” you replied and she could hear the laughter in your voice.
“This is repulsive,” she said.
“If it’s so repulsive why have you been looking at me that way?” you asked.
“What way?” Her heart stopped.
“Like you’re imagining me naked.”
Her hand shot out, ready to grab you around the throat. You caught her around the wrist, tugging her forward. She wasn’t expecting it, falling against you. Your other arm came around her waist, holding her, and that familiar spark of anger spread through her veins.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“Not until you admit you want me,” you said, “if it helps, I’ll admit that I want you.”
“You can’t. You’re good and I’m evil. It’s not natural,” she said.
“Forget that. Forget good and evil, and just do what you want.”
She took a moment, staring at you. Then she lunged forward, pulling you in. She kissed you hard, going for harsh, but then you were kissing her back so with so much enthusiasm it turned her breathless. So incredibly breathless.
No one good should be able to kiss that way. It was sinful.
When you drew back, your smile wide and lips kiss swollen, it was the only time she considered switching her allegiance, if only to keep kissing you. Maybe you were thinking of doing the same, switching sides, because you kissed her again before she could catch her breath. With each kiss it became easier to forget you were on opposing sides and it was wrong.
But maybe there was a thrill with it being wrong. She was evil after all.
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angryschnauzer · 6 months
Text
I realised two months have gone by since i last updated you all, i'm not even sure if anyone is interested anymore. I know i haven't been on much, perhaps sporadically coming on and mindlessly reblogging Henry stuff just for a little escape, but its intermittent at best. I had hoped to be back to writing by now, but life is still a huge pile of shit.
I'm run ragged trying to pay the bills. My wedding decorations business is halfway between slow and dead; the cost of living crisis means weddings aren't really happening, and if they are most of the items i do people are making themselves. My side gig in ebay flipping is quiet too but at least its trickling by. I don't mention this much as people get a lot of abuse over 'thrift store flippers' (Charity Shop resellers here in the UK), but right now its what's keeping my family fed. I buy clothing for £1 from the stinky dregs bin in a charity shop, wash it, mend it, resell it for £4. I'm not making millions or even thousands. I'm lucky if i'm bringing in £150 a week which barely covers our weekly food shop. Its draining that when i do eventually mention this to my friends they immediately start moaning at me that i'm the one 'ruining' charity shops and why its pushing the prices up. But when i calmly tell them its that or i don't eat they go quiet. I'm not the one pushing a 2nd hand coat for £25 which was only £20 brand new which most high street charity shops are doing. Do i like doing this? No. Do i have to? Yes. Because i sure as ain't cute enough for onlyfans.
But the majority of my time over the last couple of months has been spent caring for our son. He's 8 and has type 1 diabetes, and since school started back in September one little shit in his class has spent every waking moment bullying him. This little shit has been stabbing my son with pencils, poking him in the kidneys with whatever he has to hand, laughing and sneering at him at every opportunity even when he's just walking past. Having the adrenaline and cortisol in my son's bloodstream affects how his insulin works, and he builds up an insulin resistance because of all the other hormones in his bloodstream. I've had so many meetings with the school, and have had to get the board of governors involved because when your 8 year old kid says quietly to you "It would be better if i wasn't alive as then *Little Shit* wouldn't be able to bully me" your heart breaks into pieces.
He needs my support more than anything, so every single other thing has been put by the wayside. And its tough. He acts out at home, messes around with his dinner because he feels he needs to be able to control something, but that in turn messes up insulin dosing so i'm spending half the night dealing with highs and lows for his blood sugars. I get at most 5 hours sleep a night.
I have no more energy left. I'm not eating, because i just can't stomach it. I'm 43 and hitting menopause, but my doctor doesn't want to know because "You just need to loose some weight" (don't get be started on fat bias from the NHS).
So i'm filling my time with volunteering at school so i can be 'around' for my Little Dude. He knows that if he's having an awful day, he will find me in the office sorting through paperwork for our next fundraiser. Its not what i want to be doing, but its what i need to be doing.
One day i hope to get back to my writing. I miss being creative and i hate that i have so many stories part written/published. As the months tick by i actually end up seeing stories written by others that have the same characters/plotlines. This is no-ones fault that two stories exist on the same synopsis, it would just seem that they and I have taken the same inspiration from media at some point. But it makes me scared that if i now publish a story i started 2 years ago, i'll be accused of stealing an idea. I don't know what to do. So i just leave my WIP folder abandoned.
For everyone that has stayed with me thank you. For those that have moved onto pastures new, i wish you well and hold no malice.
I do love you all
Mama Schnauz
x
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futurecorps3 · 11 months
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Hi!! Wanted to drop by and say that I love your fics and how you write! I saw that you're taking requests for nikolai and I'm so in the mood for some angst with him after watching season two. So I have this idea where the reader is taken by the darkling as leverage against nikolai (maybe she was one of his grishas before or not) and she tries to escape or something, but nikolai saves her.
Thank you in advance and hope you stay hidrated and happy! 💗
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞
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Masterlist<3
Summary: Nikolai is sure he's never been this empty. Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader Warnings: Kidnapping, blood mentions, Nikolai being sad and a bitch to everyone but it's okay bc he's going through something, kinda show!Nikolai for a tiny little second Word Count: 3.2K Requested: Yes
A/N: I added a bit of angsty spice because I'm a SLUT for that good Nikolai hurt/comfort. Sorry for the delay my love and tysm for requesting!!!<3 Hope u like it.
˚ · • . ° .
He wasn't sure how it all came to be. Moments like these made Nikolai realize he was a boy born with tragedy knitted on his skin and calamity running through his blood. His light. His queen. His love. His everything. Kirigan took everything from him.
When in war, everyone knew disastrous things could happen with every coming sunrise. In this specific war, you could wake up with the news that the fold had swallowed the nearest city to yours, or be in the city that was swallowed. Maybe grishas working with the Darkling burnt your house to the ground overnight. Maybe you didn't wake up at all.
The king was aware of the madness going on outside the spinning wheel's walls and all over the country. Kirigan and his army had the upper hand and grew bolder with time, but that wouldn't last, Nikolai was sure of it.
Until they took Y/N.
Not a single guard or grisha seemed to be aware of the enemy taking the one person most precious to the king. She vanished, and he blamed himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn and listened to her, he would've been there.
"There is no clue on where she might be" Zoya asserted, exasperated and scared for her best friend. Saints knew where she was. Tired of seeing Nikolai sitting with a heavy head and puffy eyes trying to work out a way to find his lover. "Time is a crucial matter on these things. But being out there would be a risk. For everyone here." Said Genya, who was standing next to David.
"I can't stand sitting here doing absolutely nothing when she's out there, Genya. Let me go out, it's been three days since t-they..." he couldn't say it. In the past hours, he realized acknowledging the fact Y/N was gone only made his mind run wild over the events that transpired the last time they were together.
Y/N paced back and forth in the grand hall of the royal palace, her heart racing with anger. Nikolai stood in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression cold and distant. They had been going back on forth for about an hour now, exhausted, but neither of them would give in.
"You're not even listening to me, Nikolai! This is important," Y/N said, her voice rising in frustration. "I am listening, Y/N. I just don't agree with you," Nikolai replied, his tone clipped and dismissive. He came up with a plan to ambush Kirigan, one Y/N considered being ruthless; they knew for a fact he was expanding the fold over some little farmer's village and he wanted to let him just so they could enter to fold and Alina could work her powers out.
The young king was sure that if they were quick enough, the habitants wouldn't immediately turn into Volcra. Still, it was risky and very thoughtless. If it didn't work, hundreds of people would die, which was the last thing the nation needed. Y/N shook her head, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She couldn't believe Nikolai was being so stubborn at a matter like this.
"I can't do this, Nikolai. What if it doesn't work? W-will you be able to live with that in your conscience?" Y/N said, her voice trembling with emotion. Nikolai didn't say a thing, his expression still gone. Y/N took a step back, disappointed.
He knew it was not an easy decision, and had been pondering it for a long time before voicing it to his love. Nikolai, too, battled himself in the classic dilemma he found himself in; was he willing to sacrifice hundreds of people to end a war that had started far before he was even born?
"Y/N, do you think I don't care? It's hard, but it has to be done. Everyone agrees. We'll do our best to get them out of there, but if it doesn't work, they won't die in vain. This could be our one chance to save Ravka," He said, his voice somehow hurt but firm. And with that, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed out of the grand hall, her footsteps echoing off the marble floors.
As she walked through the palace corridors, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of anger and disappointment that lingered within her. She had always known that she and Nikolai had different opinions on certain matters, but she had never thought it would come to this.
The days preceding the supposed attack were filled with quiet meals, nights sleeping with backs facing each other, and no kisses. Alina and the other grishas knew what was off between the couple, but figured that if someone made even the slightest comment, Nikolai would decide against what needed to be done.
Last thing she said to him was an apathetic "Take care, don't be reckless". Y/N was worried for him but still angry and a bit shocked at them actually risking the lives of breathing, sentient people because of this stupid war. She knew it was a good plan, but either way, lives were to be lost. Nikolai nodded and turned around, mounted his horse and rode down along the other grisha to the border where Kirigan was.
Or was supposed to be.
They waited for hours, even remained hidden for quite some time, and there was no sign of Kirigan. Zoya insisted, against Alina's wishes, to go back to the castle, and they did. They did and Y/N was gone. Maybe the Darkling was more clever than they thought; he figured out the way to weaken the king by taking everything he held dear.
He heard from a friend over in Ketterdam not to love anything, ever. That was his trick and the one thing that kept him alive in many situations while he was working his way up in gangs and gained street credit. He understood that when some minor range inferni approached him with a pale face and trembling hands, saying they had taken the queen and had absolutely no idea when or where.
The king had been too daft, too stubborn to even see through the trap they had set up. It all clicked in that moment, really. The intel on the attack came from an unreliable source, and the former general relied on Ravka's desperation on ending this war. Aleksander knew they'd take anything they could get. He outsmarted the most cunning grishas and royal individuals, hurting the king greatly.
Y/N's absence felt like a never-ending void, and he was plagued with visions of what could be happening to her. No matter how hard he tried to strategize, Nikolai felt helpless, as he didn't know where Y/N was or what the Darkling was doing to her. He ached to embrace her once more, to whisper comforting words in her ear and tell her how much he adored her.
His Y/N was a bold one, and he figured she was putting up quite a fight. He prayed to his saints for her to hold on, to wait and endure until he found where she was. Everyone was working full time, maps scattered in tables with discarded locations, search parties in the land... Nikolai knew this was the time of his ability to find quick solutions to shine. He was going to find her and kill that bastard.
˚ · • . ° .
"Will you stop that already?" Aleksander said exasperated, dodging yet another one of Y/N's blazes being thrown his way. She didn't reply. Hair messy with her gown in shreds inside a cage, all dirty with how much she had wrestled with Kirigan's crew on the way there. Truth is, she had no idea where she was. "He, for once, is right, child. Stop it or he'll put these things on you."
Baghra, in the cage next to her, showed her the iron shackles he had placed. "You'll get sick if you can't use your powers". Y/N sighed, annoyed at everything. She was not scared, not of some coward who caged his own mother out of fear. They were close friends before all of this. With her childhood best friend and boyfriend enlisted in the army, Y/N was left alone. Being one of the most talented Grisha of her age, it was only natural for Kirigan to notice her standing out.
She, of course, knew nothing about his plans and was grateful she had someone to laugh with. "Darling-" "Do not call me that" she spat "Y/N, you know this could've been easier if you allowed it. Your problem is you're too stubborn, too prideful, and way too enthralled by your prince to see clearly." "He's your king, Kirigan. And you're a murderer." Of course, he didn't see himself as such. Everyone with half a brain could see he really thought he was doing the right thing, even when that meant slaughtering countless amounts of people.
The man inhaled sharply and turned around, a certain dramatic flare in his kefta as he did so. Y/N knew he wouldn't dare to hurt her, he needed her alive. But being locked away from everything known in enemy lands was not exactly the ideal situation for her at the moment; even if she scaped she would have nowhere to go. The last conversation she had with Nikolai had been everything but pleasant, and truth be told, she was worried he was worried.
She felt a bit remorseful, her words shot to kill when mad and her soon to be husband's indifference against the fierce words made her even madder, so seeing the situation at hand coolly was not an option when they argued. Also, she knew him well and Nikolai could be too hard on himself most of the time; the speech he was giving himself in that very moment was clear for Y/N.
He most likely was overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, and his head was filled with mean words, whispering that he had been the cause of all this, and that if he had just paid attention, she'd still be there. Of course, there was no way she could ever blame him for the kidnapping/becoming a forceful guest of some lovely little house on the hill, but he could. The demons could be very mean fuckers to the puppy king prince.
That night, Y/N fell asleep on the piles of blankets thinking of those blue eyes. Those blue eyes in the time they spent at sea together. Sunlight danced upon their iridescent sea, unveiling a symphony of hues with delicate glee. Celestial eyes, a glimpse of heaven's embrace, where mysteries and magic interlace. Where she found a place to be.
She hoped she could see them again soon.
˚ · • . ° .
Five days later, Nikolai made search parties go through the country to see if they could find something, anything, all a desperate measure he never thought would pay off. He was wrong.
"We found Kirigan" were the only words Zoya said, already in her kefta ready to head out. Those simple three words had the king sobering up, getting up from his seat as he felt the numbness of his body leave eagerly. Less than fifteen minutes after, he was outside the castle commanding very small teams of grisha with different tasks. There was no need to get there with the manpower they had a few days back in the fold's border. There was one singular purpose that day; getting Y/N out of there.
Nikolai's mind raced, strategizing and planning, his thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and contingencies. The rhythmic sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the stakes at hand. Yet, amid the chaos of his emotions, a flicker of hope burned within him. It was the unwavering belief that he and Y/N shared a love strong enough to defy any darkness, a love that would guide him through the treacherous task ahead.
Alina stood at the edge of the hill, her gaze fixed on the horizon where Nikolai and his small army disappeared into the distance. A knot of admiration swelled in her chest as she watched his retreating figure, the determination evident in every stride. Beside her, Mal followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. "That man's love for Y/N is unparalleled," he remarked, his voice filled with awe. "I've never seen someone fight so fiercely for another person."
Alina nodded, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "It's true. Nikolai's devotion knows no bounds. He'd move mountains, cross oceans, and face the darkest of enemies for Y/N's sake." Mal's gaze softened as he glanced at Alina, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Just like we would for each other." She met his gaze, a tender warmth filling her eyes. "Yes, just like us."
The wind rustled through the grass, carrying with it a sense of anticipation and hope. Alina's gaze lingered on the distant figure of Nikolai, his silhouette a testament to his unwavering resolve. "Do you remember when we first met Nikolai?" Alina asked, her voice carrying a hint of fondness. Mal chuckled softly, a reminiscent glimmer in his eyes. "How could I forget? He was all charm and wit, always scheming, but with a heart that burned fiercely for his people. And for Y/N."
"He's always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve," Alina mused. "But it's during times like these, when the stakes are high, that you truly see the depth of his love." Mal's gaze shifted back to the horizon, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "He's willing to risk everything, including his own life, for Y/N. It's a rare and beautiful thing."
Alina's voice grew quiet as she added, "We're fortunate to have witnessed such love. It's a reminder of what we fight for." Silence enveloped them as they stood together, their hearts swelling with appreciation for the love that bound them all. In the distance, the sun began its descent, casting a golden, almost hopeful hue upon the land.
˚ · • . ° .
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the land, Nikolai and his small, stealthy army approached the Darkling's stronghold. Their destination was a grand, two-story manor nestled within the heart of enemy territory. The imposing structure loomed before them, its dark façade a testament to the malevolence that lay within.
Nikolai's heart pounded in his chest as they neared the manor, his thoughts consumed by the image of Y/N trapped within its walls. The manor stood as a symbol of their separation, a barrier between them that he was determined to breach. The double doors of the building loomed large, promising the secrets and dangers that lay beyond. Nikolai turned to his loyal companions, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
"We enter quietly," Nikolai whispered, his words carried on a whispering breeze. "Our goal is to locate Y/N and bring her out unseen. Remain vigilant and stay close." The members of his small army nodded, their eyes gleaming with a shared resolve. They understood the magnitude of their mission and the risks involved.
With a nod from Nikolai, they entered the manor, their footsteps silent against the marble floors of the grand foyer. The opulence of the surroundings contrasted starkly with the tension that filled the air. Paintings adorned the walls, and ornate chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, casting a dim glow that danced with the shadows.
Distant footsteps could be heard, a day over for all the grishas on Kirigan's side. No one on sight downstairs, but, ever the paranoid, Nikolai made the five soldiers who accompanied him inside stay behind. It was easier, safer, if he wen't by himself upstairs.
He ascended a grand staircase, each step careful and deliberate, his senses heightened. The second floor held a maze of hallways and rooms, potential hiding places where Y/N might be held captive. His path was shrouded in uncertainty, but Nikolai's determination remained unwavering.
As he crept along the hallway, doors lined each side, concealing the secrets within, avoiding any wandering person in the hallways. The air was thick with anticipation, the silence broken only by the soft creaking of the wooden floorboards beneath their feet.
Nikolai pressed his ear against a closed door, straining to catch any sounds that might indicate Y/N's presence. A faint, muffled whimper reached his ears, and his heart clenched. It was the sound he had been longing to hear, the confirmation that Y/N was indeed within the manor. With practiced precision, Nikolai picked the lock, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit room. Y/N was there, her weary form huddled in the corner of a cage, her eyes widening with hope at the sight of Nikolai. The room itself was sparse, lacking the opulence that adorned the rest of the manor. It was a stark contrast, a symbol of the darkness that had enveloped Y/N's captivity next to a sick looking Baghra.
"Oh darling" she whispered, melting the lock that had kept her there for days. The door fell open, and as Nikolai's arms wrapped around Y/N, a surge of emotions washed over both of them. The weight of their separation, the fear and uncertainty that had gripped their hearts, all dissipated in that single embrace. Time seemed to stand still as they held each other, finding solace and strength in each other's presence.
Y/N's body melted into Nikolai's, her fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket, as if she couldn't bear to let go. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar musky scent, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek. A rush of relief flooded through her, knowing that she was finally safe in his arms.
Nikolai's hold tightened around Y/N, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. "I thought I lost you," he confessed, his words laced with a mix of vulnerability and profound love. "But I will always find my way back to you, no matter the cost." Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she looked up at Nikolai, her gaze filled with gratitude and devotion. "I never doubted you," she replied, her voice filled with unwavering trust.
"We're getting you out of here," Nikolai whispered, his voice filled with determination and love. Together, they left the room, their steps light as they navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the manor. Each turn brought them closer to the freedom that awaited beyond its walls. Nikolai's small army, now positioned strategically throughout the manor, provided cover and ensured their path remained clear.
As they emerged from the grand entrance of the place, relief washed over them. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a gentle glow over their escape. Nikolai held Y/N close, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. The grand, two-story manor now stood as a symbol of their victory, its walls unable to contain the power of their love and determination.
In that moment, as they left the manor behind, they knew that they had conquered not just the physical barriers but also the darkness that had threatened to tear them apart. Hand in hand, they embarked on a journey towards a future where their love would be the guiding light, ready to conquer this war and build a new world belonging to the both of them.
˚ · • . ° .
Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) Hey, that scape seemed a bit too easy... right? 👀
Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!
Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3
NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.
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