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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Note

I think I drank too much - with ma boi John Tracy, Eye in the Sky?

(I hope you wrestle uni into submssion)

A Bad First Impression

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, John, Penelope

Brain is in default Scott mode (when is it not?), so more Scott than John, but it is John saying the line, so that counts, right? Haven’t proof read this or anything, but alcohol+John gave me one idea straight away, so here we go!

4am so the other prompt currently sitting in my inbox will have to wait until post-sleep (and probably post-more uni work), but feel free to send more in!

(Uni is... not going down without a fight but I have got my lecturers on my side so it’s not quite as terrifying as it was the other day. Still got a heck of a lot of work to do, but hopefully it’s survivable now.)

Lightheaded/Fainting Prompts (I know it says ‘starters’ but I figure as long as the line’s in there somewhere it counts). Or honestly any other prompt games I’ve reblogged are fine, too, just make sure to tell me which one it’s from!)

Scott glowered down at his phone, where his message was stubbornly remaining as sent. Ideally, he wanted a reply, but it had been five minutes and it still wasn’t even showing as read.

People were sending him disapproving looks, no doubt seeing a stranger with a backpack lurking outside a door and drawing their own conclusions the longer he remained slouched against the wall. Apparently even in England, people didn’t take too kindly to loitering, and Scott would appreciate it if his brother would hurry up and let him in.

Maybe for some people, five minutes was too soon to be getting cranky, let alone worried, and any of his other brothers, in any other situation, Scott wouldn’t expect an instantaneous reply, but it was John, at midnight. He should be wired into whatever technology he was playing and receiving messages instantly - especially as Scott should be expected.

The journey had been a long one, jet lag was hammering hard, and he just wanted to greet his brother, catch up for a bit, and then crash out on the couch. It had been too long since he’d last seen him - why John had decided to go to college in England, Scott had no idea.

Seven minutes, and still no answer. No little icon assuring him John had even seen it, even though John had known exactly what flight he was on and had been the one to tell Scott how long the taxi would take from the airport. Scott had fully expected his younger brother to open the door just as the taxi pulled to a halt.

The fact that he was still standing outside, seven minutes later - and midnight in Oxford was not warm - had Scott one part annoyed to three parts worried.

The looks were getting dirtier. He was surprised no-one had confronted him yet, and hoped that didn’t mean they’d decided against talking and skipped straight to calling the police.

“C’mon, John,” he muttered. “What’s taking you so long?”

Looking up from his phone again - nine minutes - he caught sight of a pair staggering their way in his direction. One was ginger, and he straightened, more than a little disbelieving when his younger brother staggered right past him without looking and pawed at the door ineffectually.

“Honestly, John,” the girl he was with - petite, blond, and in high heels that made Scott’s feet ache just to look at (his younger brothers didn’t know about his time in high heels and it was staying that way) - sighed, although the giggle that followed it ruined whatever gravitas she was trying to exude.

There were many things wrong with the sight, from John being not inside, to John looking like he’d been at a nightclub, to John apparently bringing a girl home, but the thoughts all temporarily abandoned his head as John swayed just a little bit more.

“I think I drank too much,” his brother commented, in that sort of detached fashion Scott recognised from his own nightclub experiences, and ignoring the girl, he lunged forward just in time to catch John as he crumpled.

This wasn’t the greeting he’d been expecting.

Nor was the stiletto kick to his chest, winding him and almost making him drop his brother. It was fortunate his first instinct was always to hold on tighter, otherwise John would probably have just gained a concussion to go with the hell of a hangover he was going to be facing in a few hours.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the girl demanded, drawing herself up to her full height - and even in those dagger stilettos, still failing to reach Scott’s chin. “Unhand him at once, or I’ll call the police.”

Scott was tired, grumpy, and had no patience for irritating girls trying to get in with his not interested younger brother. He straightened, hefting John into his arms - he might be tall, but John had never been a challenge to lift on the rare occasion Scott had carried him - and made a show of looking down at the small female.

“And I suppose you were planning on carrying him inside?” he challenged, shifting John’s weight until he could slip two fingers into his pocket and extract his door key.

John always kept his key in the same pocket. Scott was glad that hadn’t changed.

“And now you’re trespassing,” she huffed as he fumbled the door open. “No-one invited you in. Leave, before I call the police.”

“Actually, I was invited,” Scott snapped, stepping through the door. “You, on the other hand, are not welcome. Go home.”

He kicked the door shut with his heel, knowing Grandma - and probably John, in the morning - would be furious with him for leaving her outside by herself at midnight, but not finding it in himself to care right then.

The apartment wasn’t large, just a kitchen with a sofa and a door that Scott determined had to lead to the bedroom and en suite, which meant he heard the front door open again as he shouldered his way into the bedroom.

“Who are you?” the girl demanded. Scott ignored her as he settled his brother on the bed - planets and stars embellishing the otherwise plain navy comforter. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Scott pulled his brother’s sneakers off and set them down on the floor, making a mental note to find where John kept his shoes and put them away properly before his occasionally-clumsy brother tripped over them later.

“Why are you in his apartment?” he asked, kicking off his own shoes and letting his backpack fall onto the floor before pulling himself up onto the bed. John could sleep in his clothes just fine, but that coat and jumper had to come off before he overheated.

“Are you stripping him?” she shrieked. “That’s it; I’m calling the police.”

...Okay, Scott could see why it might look bad if she didn’t know who he was.

“Look, miss,” he started.

“Your ladyship,” she interrupted.

“Uh, what?”

“It’s your ladyship,” she said. “Not miss. I am Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, and I insist you tell me who you are and why you’re manhandling my friend.”

“John has friends?” John did intellectual peers, but he’d never cared for friends, mostly because he found it tiring when people couldn’t keep up with him - or tried to force him into socialising, which Scott was starting to suspect this girl, Lady, whatever, had done tonight. His friends were computers.

“Of course he does, you pervert,” she snapped back. “Now answer my questions, and if I don’t like the answers, I’m calling the police.”

“Perv-” Scott interrupted himself with a sigh. “I take it John didn’t bother to tell you I was coming to visit for the week?”

“Your name,” she insisted, and he rolled his eyes.

“Scott Tracy. I’m his brother, so if you could stop the ridiculous accusations that would be great, thank you very much.”

“You don’t look related.”

Oh, for-

“You should see the rest of them.” John shifted against his chest in a quickly-aborted attempt to sit up. Scott tightened his grip. “Scott, Lady P. You won’t get rid of her. Trust me. Lady P., my big brother, Scott. You won’t get rid of him. Trust me.”

“John-”

“So stop arguing and let me sleep. My head kills. Penny, why did you let me drink so much?”

“I was curious what you’d be like drunk,” she answered, completely unapologetic. “You didn’t tell me your brother was coming.” She paused. “Why didn’t you tell me when I came to get you earlier?”

“You’d have accused me of lying to get out of going,” John muttered. “Sorry, Scott. Thought I’d be back before you turned up. Wasn’t expecting to drink so much...” He trailed off with a yawn, and Scott helped him lie back down.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said - not strictly true, but as far as reunions went it was already terrible. He had no intentions of worsening it with an argument. “Get some sleep. I’ll find you something for the hangover in the morning.”

John was asleep again before he’d finished talking, and with a fond smile, Scott slipped off the bed and pulled the covers loosely over him.

Then, he eyed the blonde in front of him. John didn’t like socialising, and yet she’d dragged him out regardless - and apparently never took no for an answer.

Scott did not like the implications of that.

“We need to talk,” he said, quietly enough not to wake John, but seriously nonetheless. Blue eyes flicked from him to John and then back again.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose we do.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #lady penelope creighton-ward #thunderfluff #drabbles #such-a-random-rambler #a bad first impression

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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BTS Reaction || Sad Prompts

A/N: I HAVE A BUNCH OF SPEECH PROMPTS I WANT TO USE…IF I WRITE A LONG TEXT POST WITH NUMBERS/EMOJIS NEXT TO THEM WILL PEOPLE PLEASE REQUEST THEM! I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS PLLEEEEAASSSSEEE

Seokjin:

You and Jin had broken up you both ended on “good” terms, he told you he couldn’t do the long-distance any more that it was too much for him to handle right now, being on the tour and being away from you for so long, he didn’t see it as fair on either of you. So from that day you locked yourself away in your apartment, you stopped going onto your social media after seeing many tweets about the breakup, you blocked all comments on your Instagram because it was all getting to be too much for you, every single comment was about him, asking what happened and how you were feeling. You were feeling like shit is how you were feeling. You’d just lost the love of your life, your soulmate, your other half. And he was fine as if nothing happened to him, at first you thought he was just hiding how he truly felt but then all the articles came flooding in, being spotted with different females every other night, spending time with girls he’d promised you were just friends and nothing more, holding hands, wrapping his arm around their waist like he once did with you.

The only person you felt you could go to with something like this was Jimin but you didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about one of his best friends, you had been friends with Jimin before dating Jin but it still didn’t feel right. They were best friends first before you were in the picture.

“You haven’t spoken to me in months and this is what you’ve called me round for?” Jimin questioned looking at the box at his feet, you knew the tour was over meaning all of them were back home again, you’d packed up all of Jin’s things into a box, you were going to take them around but the thought of seeing his face made your heartache.

“I didn’t think you would want to talk to me.” You lied, he stared at you, you were a mess. Your eyes were bright red from crying, your hair was in a bun and looked like it hadn’t been washed in days, maybe even weeks.

“That’s bullshit.” You kept your gaze on the floor, making eye contact with him was going to be too much for you, you didn’t want to start crying in front of him, all your other friends got sick of you crying so you assumed he would too.

“Talk to me.” He begged, stepping closer to you but you backed up and hit the wall behind you, Jimin watched as you slid down onto the floor starting to cry, he crouched down in front of you, pulling you into his arms, you sobbed against his hard chest as he patted the bottom of your back with one hand and the top of your head with the other.

“They say it’s a broken heart but I hurt in my whole body," You cried, he wanted to cry with you but he knew you just needed someone to listen to you.

Yoongi: You were packing up your things in the bedroom, you and Yoongi had been broken up for months now and it was time for you to move out, you had a shared apartment and stayed there until you found your own place while he stayed at the Dorms away from you. It was time to hand the keys over to him and you knew you were going to have to actually see him to do so which wasn’t going to be easy, you hadn’t seen each other since the night it happened, the night he ended everything, telling you he didn’t want the relationship anymore, that it was more hassle than it was worth and he didn’t want to have to justify being out late every night at the studio to you, but you had supported him in every way possible, you understood that his music was everything to him.

It was awkward walking up to the studios with Hoseok, who was normally the bubbly one around you, constantly trying to make you laugh and giggle but now it was silent and weird to be around him. He knew what happened between you and Yoongi, he knew it wasn’t good either. He entered the new code to the studio, you noticed it was no longer your anniversary date like it used to be, you didn’t pay attention to what it was, you weren’t going to need the code any more.

"Hoseok I said don’t bother me while I’m working-” He stopped his sentence when he turned around in his chair to see you standing there, bag on your shoulder, keys in your hand. He looked a mess, just like you. You both knew this time was coming.

“I brought the keys.” You said gesturing to them, Hoseok left the room, letting the door shut behind him on the way out so you dropped the keys on the coffee table and shifted the bag from one side of your body to the other.

You were about to leave when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist stopping you from going to take the door handle in your hand, he was crying in front of you, something he never did, even when you were together.

“Don’t leave.” He begged, staring at you in your eyes trying to get you to stay with him, you shook your head wanting to cry out.

“I only want you to be happy, I’m just sorry it couldn’t be with me…” You whispered to him, pulling your arm away and walking out of the studio, not wanting to look back because you knew you would collapse into his arms and stay with him, but it wasn’t good for either of you.

Hoseok:

The day you had been waiting for your whole life for was here, you were getting married. Your dress was perfect, your hair was perfect, everything was perfect except the man you were marrying, the man you wanted to marry was instead sitting in the crowd watching you marry a man that wasn’t him, the love of your life watching you marry someone else, but you knew you couldn’t be together, you’d tried many times in the past but it just didn’t work out, failing every time, or working for a while before it came to a crashing halt. You stared at yourself in the changing room mirror, you’d only every pictured marrying him, your whole life it had been him you wanted to marry, the man of your dreams. Jung Hoseok.

“Y/n?” You turned around to see him standing in the changing room door, you nodded and he came further into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

“You look amazing.” He started and you shook your head, tears already rushing to your eyes at the thought of him complimenting you.

“Don’t do this…not now Hoseok.” You begged, he sighed coming closing to you, you looked up at him from the chair you were sitting in and he cupped your face in his hands.

“I’m only telling you the truth.” You shook your head pulling your face out of his hands and getting to your feet, you couldn’t do this now, you couldn’t hear that now.

“Hoseok…we tried…I tried for so long.” You whispered trying to make him understand what he was doing, he was the one that called it off all those times, every time it got hard he was the one to back out and call it quits.

“If I’d known you were going to run off and marry someone else I never would have-” You scoffed cutting him off mid-sentence,

“You never would have what? Dumped me again? Like you did all those times before that?” You questioned, you walked away from him going to stare out of the church window at all of the people crowding outside,

“Don’t act like I didn’t fight for you…I did…for a long time so please forgive me that if not that we’re over, I am exhausted." His arms snaked around your waist and your stomach began to do the backflips it always did whenever he touched you, you wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and stay with him instead of marrying someone else, of course, you loved your groom to be but no one could compare to Hosoek, no one could ever replace him in your world. His hand drifted towards your hip and stayed there, before pulling you around to face him, inhaling sharply you stared at him, you were against his warm chest, why did he have to look so good in a suit, you punched his chest lightly to try move away but he kept his grip tight on you,

"Tell me to stop…and I will.” He whispered, leaning his head to the side and leaning down into you before you could even think about it your lips connected, your lips began to move perfectly in sync, slowly and cautiously, he moved his hand from your hip to the back of your head and tangled his fingers into your hair deepening the kiss, you pushed him away as soon as he did so. Tears streaming down your cheeks from the kiss.

Namjoon:

No strings attached. That was the agreement. Just two best friends, sleeping together, no strings attached, no unnecessary feelings, just a way to let go of tension and stress that you both had. But who were you kidding that stuff never worked out, not even in the movies. Someone was always going to catch feelings and with Namjoon who could blame you. You told him how you felt after months of sleeping together, you finally admitted that you loved him and wanted more than just nights together, you wanted dates and to only see each other instead of other people but that’s not what he wanted. He couldn’t handle the stress of a relationship at the moment, he wanted to be free to do whatever he wanted to do and come home, fuck your brains out before going back to work the next day, he didn’t want to have to text you whenever he was going to be working late, or miss you whenever he was away on a tour. No strings attached is what he agreed to and that’s all he wanted, so it was a shock to him when you finally told him you loved him, he stood there in his room with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on shaking his head. Asking you to leave and not come back.

(x)

That was months ago and now you were back to being without him, it hurts for weeks of him not being there, not being able to go to him whenever you needed him, you were best friends before any of the no-strings-attached situation came into it, so you not only lost the love of your life but someone you needed to go to when something like this happened to you. You were at a party now with some close friends, they’d promised you it would be good for you to get out and socialise, none of them knew what was going on behind closed doors with Namjoon, you told them you’d just had a big fight with your best friend, leaving out the part where he ripped your heart out and crushed it into the floor. What they failed to mention is that he would also be at this party with his friends, as soon as you walked in his eyes found you though, you pretended not to noticed he was there and instead went to get a drink with your friend, him following but trying to make it look like he wasn’t.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered to your friend, pushing past her and then past Namjoon and going out of the backdoor, and standing against the railing outside, taking in a sharp breath as the cold air hit you.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, you rolled your eyes as you stared forward, he came and stood beside you.

“It’s a free country, trust me If I’d have known you were here I wouldn’t have bothered coming.” You spat out, the words coming out more harsh than intended.

“Did you really think I was going to say it then?" He questioned his eyes locked onto the side of your head, you scoffed turning to look at him.

“Yes and when you didn’t I wanted to die!" You yelled at him, before looking back at the floor.

"I’m going home, do me and favour and tell Y/F/N, I felt sick.” You pushed past him and walked through the back gate to go home.

Jimin:

Jimin was your first love, and you were his first love, but not every first love is meant to last, there are complications in every relationship but it’s how the couple reacts to them that shapes their life together, for Jimin it was the first sign of trouble and he lept of the bandwagon. The first fight you had, you broke up but got back together a week later because you needed each other. But the relationship was stronger because of it after that small arguments weren’t a big deal for you anymore, you barely fought and if you did it would be over small stupid things.

That was until he went on the tour with the guys, he went off promising you things would be fine between you, you would call whenever he was free, he would text you when he was free, even though you told him you didn’t mind him being busy, it was his dream job and he didn’t need you holding him back but he promised you it’s what he wanted.

The first few months of the tour were going great, facetiming every night before bed to catch up, then Namjoon flew you out to surprise him as a treat, what neither of you expected was to walk into his Hotel room to find him with another girl, his arms draped around her naked body and them interlocked in a kiss.

That was the end of the relationship, you couldn’t go back to someone who would cheat on you so easily and still act as though everything was fine between you both.

It was hard for the first three months of being away from him, you missed having him to talk to, to ring when you couldn’t sleep and have him sing you to sleep or tell you about something dumb Namjoon had done that day to cheer you up after having a bad day.

(X)

Flash forward three years, you were friends again, talking to one another whenever you could, it felt good to have him in your life in any kind of way and if that meant staying friends with him then you could manage that, it was hard at first, seeing him again after what he did but it got easier as time went out and now he was marrying someone else, someone who wasn’t you, someone who looked perfect standing next to him, the same someone who was sleeping with him while you were together, you tried your best to act as happy as you could for him, you knew it was important that he was happy but you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest the moment they both said I do.

“I’m glad you were here today.” He said coming up behind you at the bar, you nodded with a smile, taking a drink from your wine glass and looking at the bartender who poured two shots one for you and one for Jimin.

“To the happy couple.” You motioned, downing the shot and smiling at him, Namjoon was standing at the other side of you, keeping an eye on you to make sure you kept it under control.

“I love-” Before Jimin could continue the sentence, you shook your head not wanting to hear it.

"You and I loved each other..and then you broke my heart…What matters now is that you found someone else.“ You whispered, nodding at Namjoon and taking your purse, leaving Jimin at the bar alone.

Taehyung:

Best friends, that’s what you and Taehyung were, best friends, and you had been best friends since the day you were born, practically raised together, grew up together. When both you and Taehyung were sixteen you knew you were falling in love with him, developing feelings that you thought could only happen in romance novels and movies but it felt real, it felt painful and at the same time amazing. The thought of being in love with your best friend was crushing, you knew you could never tell him because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship.

18 years old and you still hadn’t gotten over your feelings for him, every time you saw him it brought all of those feelings crashing back into your brain and washing over you, you thought if you ignored them long enough they would go away but they only grew stronger as time went on, so you decided it was time to tell him, time to admit your true feelings for him and see what he said, if he didn’t feel the same you would be able to move on.

"I like you Tae.” You whispered to him as you sat on the grass in your back garden, he laughed.

“I like you too Y/N, You’re my best friend…it would be a little weird if I didn’t,” You shook your head, wanting him to understand but not wanting to use the Big L-word you knew you were going to have to use.

“No Tae…I love you.” He stopped laughing, the smile on his lips dropping instantly and he stared at you, in silence for around three minutes, neither of you said a word and you got up.

“Y/N…I don’t love-”

“Forget I said anything…tell your mum I wasn’t feeling great.” You said cutting him off and running out of the garden to excuse yourself away from him, not wanting to hear him say that he didn’t like you that way, it would hurt too much.

(X)

“Look at you! Together again!” Your mum yelled as she forced you and Taehyung into a photo together, it had been four years since the night you admitted your feelings to him, it was the wedding of a family friend that you’d been dragged along to your mother promising you Taehyung wasn’t going to be there, which was clearly a lie now you looked at her. She’d been trying, along with Tae’s mum, to get you to be friends again, neither of them knew what happened that night but they knew it was serious since you didn’t talk to each other again.

“Mum can I go now.” You said trying to move away from Taehyung but he kept his arm locked around your waist, she was waving her hands around looking at the camera and your eyes went down to his arm.

“What are you doing?” You hissed at him, the sudden anger coming out of now where he pulled you away from everyone and out of the door.

“I just wanted to say…” He stopped and looked at you, staring into your eyes as you looked up at him, beautiful as ever.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you when I knew I did…" You continued to stare up into his eyes as he admitted it to you, admitted that he did love you.

"I was a kid back then…I was scared of losing you as a friend and pushed the feelings away…I didn’t think I would still lose you by telling you I didn’t love you.” He explained taking your hand in his, you just stared at it and then back up to his eyes, every feeling coming rushing back as if they’d never gone away.

“Tae you can’t do this…I’m married now, I have a family.” You whispered taking your hand away but wanting nothing more than to stay with him.

Jungkook:

No-one told you marriage was going to be so hard, you’d married the love of your life Jungkook at an early age, you were young and so in love with one another you saw no other option but to marry,

“I Y/N Y/L/N take Jeon Jeong-Guk to be my lawfully wedded husband…to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” Everyone in the front row was crying happy tears and the priest smiled at you both.

“I believe Y/N has something she wishes to add.” You nodded and handing your bouquet over to your friend and took out the piece of paper from your bra.

“I want you to know that the worst thing you could ever do, the darkest thought you could ever have…I will stand with you through it.”

But that was then and this is now, now you were walking around your shared house trying to find every last bit of clothing item you owned, packing it into suitcases and trying to get out before he came home from work, but it was too late the front door slammed shut and he was standing there looking at you, sweat dripping down his face from the new choreography they’d been learning but you moved past him rushing up the stairs and trying to get into the bedroom to lock it before he could stop you, failing again.

“What are you doing?” He questioned as you continued to pack up your things, zipping the suitcase shut and ignoring him, you put it down onto the floor going to the bedside table and took out your purse.

“Y/N…Answer me.” You stared at him and then at the suitcase, you were gone in your mind already.

“I’m done…6 years we’ve been married Jungkook…six years.” You whispered going to the suitcase and trying to leave but he blocked the door off.

“You can’t just throw it away then…six years baby, we’ve been together for eight years…you can’t walk out on me now.” You scoffed poking his chest.

“I’m not the one throwing it away.” You stated, looking at him with a glare.

“the worst thing I ever did. The Darkest thought I ever had. You said you would stand by me through anything. This, Y/N, is anything. " You blinked at him as he tried to use your own vows against you, he couldn’t be serious, your eyes welled up with tears and you blinked, letting them roll freely down your cheeks.

"I never thought that the worst thing you would ever do would be to me…" You managed to whisper out through the sobs, you pulled him out of the way and walked down the stairs and out of the house to your waiting car.

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.19

Under the suggestion of Coran, Keith accepted a room for the remainder of the day and possibly overnight. Lying in his back, he was propped up by two overly hard pillows, Lance sleeping on his chest as Keith repeatedly sighed to himself. Coran insisted they needed to rest, and that he’d let them know the results later, but for now Keith was in charge of making sure Lance didn’t fly off and get himself in trouble. He knew he really shouldn’t be thinking of contacting Shiro again so soon, but all of this was so damn complicated... plus, his brother would worry about him. He’d scold him on the outside, while worrying internally.

Opening up his messages, Keith tried to think of what to write, writing and erasing half a dozen things before settling with “can you talk?”. Simple was best. He had no answers for his brother, but he really needed to hear Shiro’s voice. The hunter was made to wait 10 minutes before Shiro finally called him, the noise waking Lance who gave a very disgruntled squeak

“It’s Shiro. No need to be grumpy with me”

Sliding his thumb across, Keith noticed it was a video call as he did. Relief flooding through him as Shiro’s tired face filled his small screen

“Hey, kiddo”

“Hey, old man. What’s up?”

Shiro sighed

“Next question?”

“That good. Is it safe to ask where you are?”

“Not really. I’m safe, though. Where are you?”

“At that dumb address you sent me to. You could have given me the heads up”

“They were able to help?

Keith tilted his phone down to Shiro Lance

“We’re waiting”

“Lance turned into a bat again?”

“Yep”

“Is he okay?”

“No idea. They all know him here. Thanks for letting me know that this was a resource centre”

Shiro groaned, scrubbing at his face with his free hand

“I should have. I knew he’d been there. You met Coran and Allura, I take it?”

“Yeah. He was waiting when the elevator doors opened. Felt like a fucking trap”

“Coran was waiting for me too. Something about seeing Lance’s car on the security feed. So they don’t know if he’s alright?”

“Not at the moment. He hasn’t been very well”

“That’s unusual”

“Not for him. I got the impression he’d been here for treatment more than once. He turned into a bat in public”

“That’s not good. Did anyone see?”

“Cameras might have picked something up. Shiro, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

He wasn’t equipped for this. Mundane life wasn’t something that happened for hunters. Too much peace was bad for him. He needed Lance to change back and keep teaching him how to fight against a vampire

“I’m working on that. I know it’s hard, kiddo, but has it at least gotten easier living with Lance?”

“Pffft. No. I have no idea what he’s thinking half the time. He says one thing and does another. He doesn’t want me there, but he hasn’t kicked me out like he said he would. He seems pretty uninterested in me, he didn’t even try drinking from me when I cut my hand”

“He is rather odd. I’m sorry, but I have to go. There’s a slight issue. If you’re not comfortable staying at Lance’s any longer, you can lodge there, I’m sure he’d understand that you’re there for his protection”

“I don’t think he’d be happy about that...”

“Sorry, Keith. I really have to go. Stay safe”

“Yeah. You too Shiro”

Shiro had already hung up before Keith could reply. Why couldn’t he be with Shiro? Lance seemed able to take care of himself. He wasn’t as old as Keith thought he’d be, his youthful exterior didn’t match the age of 44, but Keith was more surprised Lance was walking around looking 18 at 44, than being a more vampire age of 150 and looking 18. Vampires were wrong like that... and 44 seemed both young and old to him at the same time. Lance had mentioned he felt his development had suffered from being turned so young, yet when Keith had eavesdropped on him during his work call, he’d been unexpectedly smooth and respectful. There seemed so many sides to Lance that Keith couldn’t help but be curious. Would Lance never age past 18? And if he was turned as a child, why had he continued to age? And why was he clinging to Keith? That was the big question. Shiro accepted Lance being a bat far too easily. Coran had claimed he was human. Allura was weirdly nice. All he had was confusion. He felt different since meeting Lance. He didn’t know what Pidge and Hunk were thinking trying to befriend him. For years Adam and Shiro insisted he socialised, but everyone at work was kind of a dick. Especially the pack of werewolves working for the Vatican. They were led by a guy named James, who always went out of his way to be a dick towards Keith. Keith thought he’d finally have answers joining the Blades... but... Fuck. This was all Lance’s fault.

Three fucking days. It took Lance three full days to turn human again. Keith had been told by Coran he could leave at any time, but the world felt uncomfortably big outside the facility they were in. With Lance finally turning back, the man exceptionally embarrassed to wake up beside Keith absolutely naked, Coran had supplied them both with a change of clothes before announcing they all needed to have a little chat.

Led to what seemed a conference room, Lance was given a bag of blood to sip before Coran sat himself down across them

“No need to be fearful my boys. I thought we’d have a nice chat and clear the air”

Three damn days Keith had waited for answers. Coran waved him off, telling him it was best to wait until Lance had the strength to turn back. Lance was human again, and Keith patience had been stretched to breaking point

“You’re slurping too loudly!”

Growling at Lance, Lance ducked his head

“Now, now. Let him drink in peace. Lance, I paid Miriam a visit, she’s recovering well. Allura also paid a visit to Blue, she’s perfectly fine. Keith, I’ve spoken to Shiro. He will be returning in two weeks time. Poor boy had a hell of a time with a werewolf friend of his. Seems he got himself in a little trouble”

Lance’s eyes went wide

“Shiro went to see Matt? Is he okay? Is Matt okay?”

“You know Matt?”

“Matt is Pidge’s brother. You already know this”

“Ah, yes! Young Katie. I quite enjoy her online videos. Yes, yes. Now. Keith, I got the results from your blood work. Your in good health. Everything as it should be, and very much human”

“But...”

“I feel your symptoms may come from emotional trauma, as well as contact with Lance. There were no traces of Vampirism in your results. Now, Lance, there’s a little issue we need to address”

Lance sank back in his chair, chewing annoyingly on the cap of the blood bag

“We’ve done some follow up testing, comparing them with the original results and can now say with certainty that your body is changing. You’re exhibiting new abilities, as well as changing physically. Being a vampire who has fed on blood bags is vastly different to a vampire who feeds on fresh blood. Feeding on fresh blood has started a chain reaction within your body. So far we’ve seen a physical change in you, but with a little time things should settle into a new normal. Until then, you may feel some other changes in your body. Increased libido, mood swings, weakness, hunger, headaches. Now, here’s the good news. It seems your quintessence is comfortable and familiar with Keith. I believe I have some idea of what the future holds, I believe you’re becoming a breeder. A tasteless term that’s commonly used. This is just my belief, Allura disagrees given how long you’ve been turned, symptoms would have been more pronounced sooner, though you are a rather exceptional case”

Keith turned in his chair to look at Lance, the vampire frowning

“Coran... is this... can I lead a normal life once these symptoms settle”

“Within reason...”

“Then I don’t need to know”

Keith might not have been the one being addressed by Coran, but this kind of sounded fucking important. He didn’t know what a breeder was, but from name alone it sounded like Lance could some how... have a kid. Which was ridiculous. The guy was a guy. As far as Keith knew, Lance didn’t have the plumbing for that

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means if it isn’t going to immediately impact on my way of life and being able to do my job, then I don’t need to know”

“Are you fucking brain damaged? Haven’t you been moping for weeks about not knowing?!”

“And some things are better off not being said. Coran said I’m going through some blip I’m going to come out of”

“He also said that you’re becoming a breeder!”

“It’s not your life Keith!”

“No, I’m just the poor sucker who’s been looking after your dead arse because you couldn’t turn back into a human!”

“I never asked you to!”

“You could at least pretend to be grateful! You transformed in the hospital, where anyone could have been you!”

“But they didn’t!”

“Boys! That’s enough. Lance, I respect your decision, but this is something you cannot ignore. Your body is going to have needs”

“I’ll deal with it”

“It’s not that simple. We’re talking about a change on a structural level”

“I’m already dead, I don’t think it can get any worse. I don’t want you feeding my vampire ego!”

Coran sighed

“I don’t want to fight with you. You’re like a son to me. But if you are changing into a breeder than you’ll be in danger from the constant pheromones your body will be producing. Do you really wish to put Hunk and Pidge in danger?”

Lance gave Coran such a cold glare that a shiver ran down Keith’s spine

“That’s not fair”

“It is what it is my boy. Now, listen to me, I have only your best interests in heart. You’ve lived exceptionally well as a human, but until your emotions stabilise I think it best we have Keith stay with you. Your body is going to change. His presence is quite compatible with yours”

“He’s a hunter!”

“And you’ll be hunted by far worse without protection. If your status gets out, you can expect many a vampire caller upon your step”

Lance let out a sad sigh

“I can’t change this, can I?”

“No, but we can keep you safe. Breeders are quite sort after. Not every vampire can be a breeder, it’s rare even amongst the ranks. All breeders that we know of have started as humans before turning with their first feed from a human. Keith was your first feed. You’ve held off feeding off him again, but your body is craving his blood and his presence as you change. You... I know you never wished to be romantically involved with anyone, and I’m not saying the relationship has to be physical, but for the next few weeks as your system levels out, it truly is best Keith stay with you”

“Just... what am I becoming?”

“Able to bear children. Now you can see why breeders have such value. Any child you bear will have the characteristics of a normal human child, unaffected by the curse you carry. A rare and precious gift, that cannot be stopped once the transformation begins. Any vampire of the highest rank wishes for a lineage of their own. They will use you and toss you aside, for the sake a child born with their blood”

Lance stared at Coran, Keith’s heart was damn near hammering inside his chest cage. He didn’t know that there was such a thing. He’d poisoned himself, Lance had saved him, now Lance was... he was changing and in more danger than ever... because of him. He always ruined everything. Constantly. He drove everyone away. Never the man they thought he was

“That’s not funny”

“It’s not a joke, my boy. Your manifestation as a bat is a sign of the change. When your flight or fight instinct is triggered, or your emotions are out of control, you revert to the smallest and fastest form possible. You need to work on coming out of your bat form on your own, as well as working on training to protect yourself. Keith will train with you, you will both benefit from the lessons each of you can teach one another”

“I’m not having sex with a human”

“Then find relief in alternative methods. You have no control or sway over Keith. He is not your servant, nor did you turn him. You fed to save his life, and I’m truly sorry things are turning out like this”

“Then kill me”

Keith felt his rage growing. Lance was rolling over so easily. What happened to the man who loved his friends and family? Who fought for those caught in family dramas?

“Lance”

“If I’m becoming something dangerous, then it’s better to kill me now before a potential incident occurs. I refuse to let anyone be hurt by my existence”

“Lance, please. I don’t want to see you die. I don’t want to lose you. Please, you can lead a relatively normal life again once your body has settled down”

“I’m going to be a fucking vampire magnet!”

“You know vampires are attracted to each other as it is. You’ve led a fine life. You have so many things you can still do. Keith will be my eyes and ears. He will keep an eye on you and keep you safe, until the return of his partner. You have friends and family who love you”

“Who will be the first in danger over me! Keith will be in danger! This place will be in danger... all because of me...”

Lance’s anger petered out into sadness. Keith felt a strong tug in his chest. The kinder thing to do would be to put Lance down. Before those problems rose

“You said we don’t need to have sex. He simply needs to settle into a new routine... right?”

“Keith...”

The question was to Coran, yet Lance softly said his name

“I’m serious. If he agrees to teach me how to fight better, so I can protect those I love, then I’ll watch him”

“You will need to let him heal. At least a days full rest and we’ll temporarily increase his blood intake. I will make a charm for you. It’s blessed silver and will sit inside your forearm until you are ready for its removal. It will ward against any forms of infection, giving us time to act if you do come into accidental contact with Lance’s blood. But blood alone will not turn you. You need to be drunk near dry, and the desire to turn you must be clear in Lance’s head. How many hunters do you think come into vampire blood on a daily basis? One small drop to the eye doesn’t turn them, not always. Of course, sometimes an accidental turning may occur, but generally the vampire in question has already settled on its prey when they turn someone. There are different rules, not a “one size fits all” kind of thing. Lance’s blood isn’t very potent seeing he’s fed from blood bags”

This was a lot. A lot more than a lot to take in. Lance wasn’t taking things well, Keith was freaking the fuck out, and Coran’s sympathetic smile was not helping. He and Lance... with Lance having urges... and he’d... well, he’d never done the do. Sure, he jerked off, but his prime focus was work. He didn’t have time for meaningless hookups when there vampires to slay. He’d made out before... drunkenly and he couldn’t even remember their face the next morning, he was so hung over that Adam insisted on being as loud as humanly possible.

“So I’m not a vampire”

Lance groaned

“I’ve been telling you ever since that night you’re not. I thought you’d finally dropped that”

Keith huffed. That didn’t explain things. Like why his heart went all funny when he looked at Lance, or why his eyes were drawn to those big blue eyes of his... and soft brown hair... He hated him, but felt weirdly connected to him. It had to be something was changing in him

“No, Keith. Perfectly human in every respect. Now, I’m going to send you home to rest, Lance. I’ll stock you up with some extra blood, and I want you to refrain from high emotions until you’ve settled. You may go visit Miriam, she’s always brought you great comfort, but after that, I would prefer you limit your outside interactions to a minimum, and absolutely avoid big crowds. It’ll help if you keep a written record of how you’re feeling and the things on your mind. If you can pinpoint the things that cause your transformation, you can work on levelling your emotions”

“You sound like Mami. She always says I worry too much”

“She’s a smart woman that mother of yours. Now, Keith, would you mind stepping out for a second so I can have a little word with Lance”

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aziraphaleandcrowley · 4 years

Text

Tldr: me word vomiting lots of random emotions and thoughts I’ve been having about my life. Would put under a read more but tumblr mobile is shite. Ignore if you wanna, I just needed to throw this into the world cos I’ve been so socially distant from everyone in my life that I haven’t spoken to anyone about this, and I’m not sure I would’ve even if I actually replied to my friends more than once in a blue moon

...............................................................

Me: honestly convinced I’m never gonna find romantic love cos I’m ace and probably aro - at the very least I’ve never been attracted to/interested in someone enough to want to date them and the whole being sexually attracted to someone and looking a people and wanting to have sex with them sounds fake and doesn’t resonate with me at all.

Me: is theoretically a very sex favourable and positive person but the idea of sex with someone I’m not dating is just so weird to me but damn do I wish there was someone who knew me and my likes and dislikes to be intimate with

Me: is super duper disappointed to not experience love/sex but is simultaneously doing literally zero to create opportunities cos I just don’t speak to anyone outside of my family and colleagues, and the one single guy I had any interest in at work is gay and has left.

Me: reads fanfic constantly and I’m now wondering whether it is beneficial in distracting me from my loneliness or enhancing it. I think both. I think I need a break from fanfic at the very least but honestly don’t know what I’d do without it cos it’s been my go to hobby for so many years and I legit read for 30+ hours a week and that’s soo much time to fill???

Me: really doesn’t want to have kids in the future cos I don’t understand kids in the slightest and pregnancy is terrifying and I still feel like a child myself and I know this is something which may change in the future but I don’t think so and my mum bringing up wanting grandkids on a near weekly basis recently is kinda starting to put me on edge cos I’m already starting to feel like a disappointment cos I’m an only child and I’m the only opportunity for grandkids - which I know is ridiculous but it how I feel and that’s valid

Me: with my grandad in hospital (he’s gonna be fine, he would be out of hospital if he actually did what the doctors and nurses said about doing exercises etc) it has made me think about the family I do have which is: my mum, my dad, my grandad and my uncle. That’s it. I have two other uncles and several cousins etc who I see maybe once a year but they don’t really count.

Me: has a handful of really amazing friends who I haven’t spoken to in months and I don’t even really know why. They’ve all messaged me and I just havent replied. I’m not trying to actively push them away like I did with a friend in the past who I just felt drained with in the end whenever we interacted, but honestly every time I get a message I just feel exhausted at the prospect of ongoing social interaction. And it’s silly cos I know exactly the kind of thing I could message people about to start a conversation, like I could talk to Emily about finally watching Hamilton and how it’s been two weeks and I’m still listening to song on repeat and how she was right about how good it is and yet it’s been a week and a half since I’ve thought about sending that message and yet I haven’t and just uggghhhh @me

Me: is horrified by the idea of being alone for life romantically, and knowing that between my ever dwindling family and me not talking to my friends that being alone if more likely that I ever want to think about

Me: wants to live a happy life of my own but don’t know how to. I want to move out but can’t afford to on my own and it’s super impractical when I can live with my parents for £20 per week for food. But god forbid if anything happens to one of my parents I’m gonna be stuck at home forever cos I have so little family and my parents have literally no one else to turn to.

Me: wants to do a masters in gender and sexuality studies writing about representations of asexuality on screen but I know I could write and entire book which would be great for phd level but I missed the deadline to apply cos June was crazy and all I’ve been doing recently is working 6 days a week then working on my car for a day before working another 6 days. And even if I did a masters and maybe eventually a phd I have no idea what I’d actually do with it? I have so little ambition for anything right now and the future is just a void of mystery in which I don’t even know what I want???

Me: is starting to think I might actually be kinda depressed. I’ve thought it on and off for longer than I’ll ever admit but I’d do quizzes online and they’d say I wasn’t so I didn’t really think too much more about it (and yes I know an online quiz is shit and means nothing but there’s no one I would want to talk to about it cos I feel like I have to be strong for the people around me and shit but yeah). I know I’m not happy, but that doesn’t necessarily equal depressed. All I know is I’m uninspired and I feel kinda empty. Doing stuff I do enjoy, if I actually do it, just makes me feel tired half the time so I end up trying to nap instead but then I don’t sleep great either, waking up in the night or when my dad is getting ready for work so I very rarely get a solid 8 hours of sleep. I’m irritable a lot too...

Me: even if I am depressed what does it matter? Like it does matter ofc, but my mum is on media for depression and it’s taking her weeks to get an appointment with the doctor to try and get a different dosage. I’m not a danger to myself or others, I’m unhappy, but who isn’t with COVID going on and there are people who need mental health services more than me. Which is really hypocritical of me to say cos I’ve told my best friend so many times that trauma and mental health etc aren’t competitions of who has it worse but it’s the truth. Also my mum and colleagues access the only mental health resources in town and I do not want to deal with interactions with people I know whilst trying to improve my mental health.

Me: I don’t know how many times I’ve said it in posts like this but something needs to change. I was set on a good course at the start of the year. I was getting out, socialising, doing new things, inspired to cook, learn to new music and change my lifestyle, and then COVID happened and since all of that has slowly drained away and I need to find a change to revitalise that. I’d hoped getting back to having driving lessons and working on my car would be a start, and to be fair it’s been less than two week since I restarted doing that, so maybe I can find a new spark of inspiration still. Within a couple of months I will pass my driving test. Hopefully it won’t take much longer than that to get my car finished and on the road (hopefully it’ll take two weeks to finish putting the rear end back together so we can finally get my car back on four wheels, then it’s just lots of little jobs which hopefully won’t take too long). The weather is supposed to be decent this week so I might work up the effort to go for a walk down the fields which always seems to relax me a little. And the cinema reopens at the end of the month so I’d finally have an excuse to get out of the house (I know COVID is not over and things should not be going back to normal any time soon, but I need to do something other than go work for 4 hours everyday and spend 90% of my time at home and most of that time in bed because I have nowhere else to go). I don’t know what else I can be hopeful for in the coming weeks but that’s a start and just listing them out here has made me feel a little better so.

I keep thinking about Patrick from Schitt s Creek, leaving his hometown to escape a life which didn’t fit him and finding everything he needed in a tiny town in rural Canada, and wishing I could do the same, but I know I’d just end up even more alone because I am not a social person in the slightest and don’t kno how to be despite knowing that me making changes is the only way to improve myself.

And then a line from Hamilton about death is easy, living is harder, and I want to make it abundantly clear that I do not in any way, shape or form want to die, but living is hard and I have an easy life. I have enough money that I was able to loan my dad the money to buy a car, and still have more savings after that than he does, I have a good that if not particularly well paid I do enjoy and I’m good at, my family live me in their own way, even tho I feel that part of my social distance and reluctantance towards others is because no one in my family is particularly socially inclined.

Maybe I just really need a hug.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this anymore but I just had so much build of of words in my brain that they had to go somewhere and this has turned into my go to word vomit place

Things will get better. I don’t know when or how but they will. But they won’t if I don’t get enough sleep for a starters. So off to bed I go. If you’ve read all this thank you, I guess, for listening cos I’m not sharing this with anyone irl just yet. And I’m sorry this is so long but tumblr mobile doesn’t let me put in a read now but I want this out in the world even tho no one will see it

#anyway ignore me #long post for ts #sorry #tmi #rebecca speaks #again #with the amount of posts i jave like this on here im really starting to think i need to find an actual person to discuss stuff with #not sure what therapy options there are in the uk cos all my knowledge come from here which is so us centric #but i think im gonna do some research #tomorrow tho #long post #personal

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dukedrakes · 5 years

Text

Tell Me

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Rose)

Rating: PG-13??? I guess?? I’ve never rated my work before.

Words: 3.5K

Summary: A little alteration fic where MC confides in Drake.

This is my first ever Choices fic and I’m so nervous to post it but here it is! This was so much fun to write. I haven’t written like this in a long time. It just flowed out of me. This piece is around Book 2 a little before Liam proposes and you’ll see that it deviates from TRR canon for ~reasons~.

Don’t forget to tell me what you think, Reblog and Like! Enjoy!

Rose plastered a smile on her face as she conversed with nobles she couldn’t remember the names of. Delicately holding her champagne flute, she glanced around the room as she nodded absent-mindedly to whatever it was the noble was telling her. She was surprised that she wasn’t used to this. After the lead-up to the Coronation, the Coronation itself and this Engagement Tour, she thought she had grown accustomed to the near constant gatherings and balls where she was required to converse with those in attendance with the utmost poise and politeness, giving everyone the best impression she could to secure theirs and Cordonia’s favour. But it was hard. Exhausting even.

Each time Rose took her leave for the night after hours of socialising, she felt her body sag with fatigue, tired from showing a façade that made her cheeks sore from smiling and head hurt from the too much champagne and idle gossip. She found it so trivial, the things they spoke about. Who wore it better? She said this, he said that, what a scandal! Rose supposed that Cordonian Court was these people’s world. It was all they had and all they would ever know, ignorant to anything of consequence in the real world. She was lucky she had a few good friends in Liam, Drake, Maxwell and Hana. They kept her sane.

But she’d come here, unprepared and out of her comfort zone. Constantly judged for being a commoner, all because of Liam. She’d spent the last months following him around, vying for his hand. Not that it was hard to spend time with him, she knew he favoured her more than the other girls. Everyone knew it. It made her feel guilty. She, a lowly waitress from New York who had never experienced a day of courtly life or princess training, had the favour of the Crown Prince over girls who had worked their whole life for the opportunity to be Cordonia’s Queen. She felt even more guilty knowing of her secret displeasure for every minute of it.

Rose has always been a girl with goals. They were simple and easy to attain. But they were goals. And being Queen of a small country was not one of them. The thought of being a royal was often romanticised beyond end, but Rose considered it with the absence of those rose-coloured glasses that made everything look easy. No, being a royal would be anything but. The constant scrutiny, private life no longer private, making decisions that have consequences for the entire country, and attending a never-ending supply of balls and dinners. It just wasn’t her. Yeah, maybe when she was six when she thought being a princess or queen was about wearing pretty dresses and a crown and being with the handsome prince. But not now. She could barely handle the pressure now after mere months; she couldn’t handle it if she were a Queen when it would be magnified tenfold.

She couldn’t keep up her resolve much longer.

Drake nursed his whiskey at the bar. He loved his whiskey, but he didn’t think he’d drink as much if it wasn’t for the constant need to numb the incessant banter and socialisation that came with these things. Drake had lost count of how many events like this he’s attended throughout nearly three decades of his life. It’s got to be thousands. He tried to add up the numbers in his head but winced as the fog of alcohol prevented him from using the required brain cells.

He turned from the bar and scanned the room. He figured out years ago that the best way to survive these events was with a drink in hand and with a bout of people-watching. He found it interesting, the patterns of conversation and personality quirks. He often predicted how conversations would go or more importantly, what drink people ordered. He’d got quite good at it. He observed everyone; the faces seemed to blur together.

All but one.

Rose.

She stood on the far side of the room, caught in a conversation with a noble he recognised but didn’t care to remember his name. She had a smile on her face, but it wasn’t a real smile. No, it barely resembled the smile that often graced her face when she was relaxed and with him and their friends. It wasn’t the smile that made his stomach flip whenever he saw it. It looked more like a grimace, Drake thought as he observed the conversation. He saw her looking around the room, no doubt for an opportunity to escape.

Despite her obvious distaste for current conversation, she was a natural at the whole court thing. She had a knack for knowing what to say, how to say it and when. She could easily converse with anyone about anything – a valuable skill for Cordonian Court, one he could never seem to master. She practically had the whole court wrapped around her finger save for a few conservatives. It was hard not to, even with her fake smile it was easy to fall for the charms and wiles of Rose Clarke.

He should know.

Regardless of how he presented himself and acted towards Rose and their friends. He knew exactly how he felt. He has never been in denial about his feelings. Not for a while now anyway. Drake has always felt so genuinely and truly, but his almost unwavering will to maintain walls and boundaries to protect himself and those around him often prevented him from acting selfishly. He was so strict on these boundaries, feeling guilty and chastising himself for the slightest bend of will or even the thought of bending will. He couldn’t cross those boundaries. Not with Rose. Not when she wasn’t his to love. He couldn’t do that to himself. But most of all, he couldn’t do that to Liam. Not when he loved her first. Not when she was here for him.

Drake convinced himself that going over there to save her from the dull conversation was not crossing those strict boundaries but was simply in the service of a friend. A friend he happened to love more than he ever thought possible.

“Forgive the intrusion, but may I steal Lady Rose away for a moment? I’m afraid Bertrand is looking for her.” Drake spoke, flawlessly mimicking the proper manners of the nobles that he’d listened to for years.

Rose made eye contact with Drake and gave an expression of relief before plastering on that painful smile. “Of course, excuse me.” She said and followed Drake before anyone could object. She held his arm as she said: “Thank you, I owe you.”

Drake laughed as he led her back to his position at the bar, trying to ignore the feel of her fingers on his blazer. “You looked miserable. I couldn’t leave you in their clutches to be bored to death.”

“You have no idea. I think Sir Franklin? Is that his name? Was talking about all the different types of micro-bugs that live in his lake. Or was he talking about his grandchildren?” Rose pondered with that adorable crease between her brows.

Drake shrugged and scoffed. “What’s the difference?”

“Hilarious. See, why should I listen to pointless blather instead of your entertaining snide remarks?” Rose grinned, a real one this time.

Drake smiled at her fondly, as she ordered a drink. He caught himself as she looked back at him, looking away and taking a sip of his own drink. As Rose received her drink, she held up her glass to Drake who returned the gesture, clinking their glasses together softly as they turned from the bar and looked out into the crowd, a comfortable silence between them.

Drake looked over at Rose as a trembling sigh came from her lips. Her fingers fiddled with the rim of her glass as she looked absently into the crowd.

“You okay, Clarke?” Drake asked tentatively, turning to her.

Rose kept her gaze ahead as she bit her lip before blinking and nodding. “Yes.” She replied, her voice a mere whisper. She continued to nod before the nods turned into shakes, the question of ‘are you okay?’ causing her final resolve to crumble as she looked down.

“Hey, hey, Clarke. What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Drake said gently, placing his now forgotten whiskey on the bar and craning his head a little to look at her face.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Drake.” She said, looking out into the crowd again.

“Do what?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“This. All of this.” Rose said, keeping her head forward, still as he’d ever seen her.

Rose spoke again, and this time she didn’t stop as Drake just listened to every word.

“This isn’t me. It never has been and never will be me. I can’t do the court thing. I can’t attend balls every other night making ridiculous small talk with nobles I don’t care about. I have never wanted this. I did this because Maxwell asked, and I thought it would be an experience of a lifetime. And it was. But I thought it would end. I didn’t know it would last this long. I thought it would just last until Liam chose one of the noble girls and then I would go home. Because there’s no way he would pick me.” Rose rambled.

“And, how could he? I’m a waitress from New York, Drake. I don’t belong here, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be royalty much less a queen. I have never wanted it. I’m a simple girl from a humble home. Could you imagine if I became queen? I barely know Cordonia and its people. How would I be able to make responsible decisions regarding their welfare and what’s best for the country? An outsider on the throne? What a great idea! Said no one ever.” She laughed but it wasn’t funny.

She paused and took a breath, the next words coming out as a strained whisper. “Why would Liam ask that of me? Why would Liam ask me to give up everything? My freedom? If I marry him, I will never be able to do the things I want to do and achieve the things I want to achieve. I won’t be able to go shopping. Or walk around a park or in the town square, visiting the local café and getting a hot chocolate before going to the bookstore and buying more books, knowing I have a pile 10 books high already at home that I need to read.”

Drake watched her, listening to every word, the world and people around them drowned out like they weren’t even there anymore. He listened to every pause between sentences. Every choked breath. He could see the tears welling in her eyes as she stayed looking at the people in attendance. That façade slowly crumbling before his eyes. His heart ached for her. He hated seeing her so upset. He almost reached out to hold her, but he remembered his boundaries and where he was, clenching his fists so tight his knuckles were white and his fingernails dug into his palm.

“I can’t be here and pretend to be someone I’m not” Rose breathed out, a small tear escaping her eye before she wiped it away as quickly as it came.

Drake stood there; mouth not working. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? That it would be okay? That Liam would never ask her to give up her freedom for him? He couldn’t. Because she was right. Marrying Liam would mean giving up her life as she knew it. Giving up her freedom to be herself. Yes, Liam would never explicitly ask that of her. But he loved her, and if he chose her and she said yes, she would be signing her life away. And it might be okay, eventually…in a few year’s time, when Rose had fallen into the rhythm of court and knew how to navigate decisions that weighed on Cordonia. But who knows how long that would take or if it would even happen? Why would she give up years of her life hoping for something that may never happen?

But the questions on his mind were ones he didn’t know if he wanted the answers to.

Did she love Liam? Did she love him enough to do this? Or was she just saying this to him as an open ear, to get more of an understanding of herself?

There was silence between them as Drake wondered what to say.

“Clarke…” He started.

“Tell me.” Rose interrupted. She turned her head and looked at him for the first time in minutes or maybe hours? Time had frozen between them. His heart broke at the anguished expression on her face. “Tell me not to say yes to Liam.”

Drake blinked and jerked back slightly in surprise. “What?”

“I know he’s going to choose me. Tell me not to choose him back. Tell me not to say yes. Tell me not to be queen. Tell me.” Rose asked, a desperation in her voice that he hadn’t heard before.

“Clarke…” Drake said again, unable to say anything but her name. “I can’t make this decision for you.” He finally said. “You need to do what is right for you.”

“But you’re the only person who matters.” Rose said bravely but softly, her eyes never leaving Drake’s.

Drake took in a breath and froze. He then cleared his throat. “Clarke…you shouldn’t say things like that.” He shook his head and turned to the bar, seeing his now lukewarm whiskey and taking a sip, his throat suddenly dry.

“But it’s true.” Rose said so quietly he wasn’t sure he heard her. Drake looked at her, she was facing him now, leaning on the bar as she looked at him. Drake’s heart swelled with his love for her. His will and boundaries threatening to break as all he wanted to do was hug her and tell her what she wanted to hear.

“You know I can’t tell you what you want to hear. No matter how much I wish I could.” Drake sighed.

“Why not? What’s stopping you?” Rose asked.

“Everything.” He breathed.

“Tell me.” Rose asked again.

“Why?” Drake flared. “So, if it all goes bad you have someone to blame? So, if you made the wrong decision you can resent and blame me for ruining your opportunity?”

Rose shook her head, unphased by his heated response. “No.” She said simply.

“Then, why?” Drake asked gruffly.

Rose’s breath hitched, she looked down and said quietly – knowing the weight of these words. “So, you can come with me.”

Drake widened his eyes before closing them and sighing, letting his head fall back. “Clarke. You’re killing me.” He shook his head and opened his eyes, looking at her. “We can’t just leave.”

“Why not? We could leave together, live in Cordonia or New York…” She trailed off.

“Clarke, stop. Are you hearing yourself? What makes you think we could do that? Huh?” Drake argued. “I have people here that I care about. I can’t just up and leave like you can. I have Liam. My best friend. Who’s going to do damage control if you leave? Do you even understand the position I am in? I have my best friend, who adores you and would move mountains for you. And I have you, this little stubborn, vibrant and beautiful woman who—”

“Can you shut up and think about yourself for once in your life, Drake?” Rose hissed, ignoring his compliments. “You’re always thinking about Liam and the people around you. How they would feel. How they would be impacted. What about what you want? Huh? What do you want to do? Stop thinking about others and their problems and be selfish for once in your goddamn life.”

Drake blinked at her as she puffed in front of him, the people around them at the bar starting to look at them. He knew she was right. Rose always was. She knew him too well, seeing through every wall he put up like it was glass.

“Clarke…” He started. But she had already placed her drink onto the bar top and was headed out of the ballroom. He watched her go before looking around him, not caring that some people were looking, and ran after her.

He caught up to her down the corridor. “Clarke, wait—”

“I’m sorry.” Rose said when she heard his footsteps to her slow. “I know it was unfair of me to ask that of you.” Rose spun around to face Drake as he skidded to a stop in front of her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you.”

Drake caught his breath softly as she went on. “You’re right, this is my decision and I need to make it for me. I was just upset and overwhelmed, and I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for not say—”

Drake didn’t let her finish her sentence as he demolished his boundaries, cupped her cheeks and kissed her. He could feel her tense in his hands before she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Drake deepened the kiss and Rose responded immediately. He trailed his hands from her cheeks to her hips as he gripped them firmly before wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her onto her tiptoes. Rose’s hands threaded through his hair as they kissed, not caring who saw them. They were like two halves of the same soul that had finally found each other after centuries apart.

They pulled away breathless, foreheads leaning against each other. “What was that?” Rose whispered, running her fingertips on the back of his neck.

“That was me being selfish.” Drake breathed. “I love you.”

Rose pulled back to look at him, biting her lip as she grinned. “Then tell me.”

Drake took in a breath, hesitating for a moment before he fulfilled her request, the words flooding out in breaths. “Don’t choose him back. Don’t say yes. Don’t be queen.” Drake brought her forehead to his once more as he spoke. His head screamed at him for what he was doing, but his heart…his heart was full and finally satisfied.

“And what do you want?” Rose asked, bringing her hand to cup his cheek and run her thumb over his cheekbone.

“You. Only you.” Drake smiled. His heart pounding. Pounding, but free.

“Then have me, because I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I don’t want to be without you ever.” Rose smiled.

Drake broke out into what Rose thought was the biggest smile she’d ever seen him give as he kissed her again before bringing her close, her arms still around his shoulders and spun her gently. Rose laughed as he set her down.

“How could I resist you for so long, Clarke.” Drake smiled down at her with so much love he thought his heart would burst.

“I could say the same, Drake.” Rose laughed. Drake chuckled along with her before the reality of what’s to come sets in.

“How are we going to tell Liam?” Drake asks, his voice small and vulnerable.

“We’ll work it out.” Rose said gently, her hand coming up to put some of his hair behind his ear.

“He’s going to hate me.” Drake shook his head. “Or worse, you.”

“He could never hate you.” Rose soothed. “Liam loves you like you’re his own flesh and blood. Perhaps more. And I don’t think he has a hateful bone in his body but if him hating me means I get to live freely and with the man I love then I’ll gladly accept it.”

Drake shook his head. “You’re amazing, Clarke…Rose. You’re incredible.”

“So, I’ve been told.” She grins before leaning up to kiss him again, not able to get enough of his lips on hers. Drake relaxed under her kiss. She was his kryptonite. God knows how he resisted for so long. He couldn’t imagine being without her kisses and her warmth ever again.

“Now,” Rose said, back to sounding like she usually did – determined and full of life. “we should probably go back inside, we can deal with all this tomorrow morning, but for now, I believe you owe me a dance.” She grinned.

“Oh, do I?” Drake scoffed as they walked back down the corridor together, the promise of forever lingering in the air.

Tomorrow, everything would change, as he had finally broken those walls and told her, and she, him. But for now, they would dance, knowing it would be the last time they would ever do so here, at the palace where they were mere shells of their real selves. No, tomorrow they would finally be free.

Shall I do a Part 2 anyone?

Also, I haven’t got tags, but if you want to be tagged for the next piece let me know!

I hope you enjoyed!

#playchoices #drake walke x mc #drake walker #the royal romance #the royal heir #larissa's fics #larissa's drabbles #tell me #choices fic #playchoices fic #playchoices oneshot #choices oneshot #canon deviation #choices: stories you play #choices #pixelberry #long post

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exposeacreep-blog · 5 years

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Milo Moran is a child molester, manipulator and general scumbag

I met Milo when I was in year 7 (11 years old) at school. At the time, he was in year 11 (around 15). My English mistress had given us a creative writing task: to write the backstory of Edgar Allen Poe's poem "The Raven". Milo was in her form in year eleven, and he, along with his friends, were pretty friendly with her, so she would sometimes chat with them about her other classes during morning and afternoon registration. Apparently, my name came up in one of these chats, because one day in what must have been around October 2014, when my English class were leaving the classroom after a sixth period lesson and her year eleven form were coming in for afternoon register, my teacher pointed me out to him and said "that's the girl who wrote that Raven story you liked". He smiled at me, and told me how much he'd liked it.

Now, me being a fucking dumb, pubescent, hormonal little girl I was for some reason extremely receptive and innocently excited by older male attention at the time, no matter how much of an absolute minger they were, meaning that the fact that somebody as senior as Milo had so much as offered me a second glance I was a bit smitten with him.

After school had finished, I went to get the bus home only to find that apparently Milo was on the same bus route home. I didn't say anything to him that day, I was too busy being the epitome of preteen angst so I just plugged myself into my Panic! At The Disco and stared blankly out of the window, but then a couple of weeks later I ran into him with my mum while at Waitrose. We said hi to each other, and when she asked I told my mum who he was. She said that he seemed nice, and that it was good that I was friendly with people outside my own year.

We had very little interaction for the next couple of months until after the Christmas break, when two new kids, twins, joined my year group. I quickly became joined at the hip to one of them, we rarely spoke to anyone else and then wondered why we didn't really have any other friends. So when we saw a poster for the English magazine club at lunchtime, we figured it was a great opportunity to socialise. We went, and lo and behold who's the editor of the magazine? Milo, overseen by another English mistress. That was absolutely fine by me, he was an older boy who gave me special attention because, at least I assumed at the time, he liked my writing.

Not long after that, we began to talk and videocall fairly infrequently on Google Hangouts, where he mentioned a physical similarity in our respective appearances, and said it might be funny if we pretended to be siblings to confuse people. I fail to see now how this is in any way entertaining, but I suppose at the time my ape brain said "ooga booga male attention must maintain", so I went along with it.

Then there's a bit of a gap in my memory between the end of year 7 and the beginning of year 8, but somewhere in that gap my friend Vincent (who was the same friend I'd joined magazine club with) convinced me to take up the guitar so I could go to the lunchtime guitar group with him. I joined the group, and guess who the bassist is? Milo McNonce. I'll get back to that a little later.

So while he was still at school, he worked at a pub in the town where I live called The Fleece, and to get from there to his bus stop he had to walk past my house. By pure chance one day I spotted him out of my bedroom window and called out to him, and we began talking with him down on the pavement looking up at me through my open window. This same thing went on for ages until one day my parents got fed up of what they dubbed the "Romeo and Juliet" routine and invited him in.

Around this time I inexplicably developed massive crushes on two of Milo's friends, Chris and George. I told Milo, and he basically agreed to stalk them for me, even going so far as to write little stories wherein I had rough, kinky sex with his 17 year old for me to get my little 12 year old rocks off to. I, being a total and utter fucking moron, didn't find that weird in the slightest. Until fairly recently, I still had some of these stories screenshotted on my phone gallery but rather stupidly deleted them last year out of shame and fear that somebody would find them.

Then about halfway through year 8, when I was helping him with packing up after guitar group, he started hugging me out of nowhere and kissed me on the forehead. Ape brain struck again and said "Oh worm? Guess this is happening now, that's calm."

Nothing else of particular note happened in year 8 on that front, although it all continued as a regular thing.

So then began year 9, and the *real* shitstorm reared its head.

Remember how I said that eventually my parents had invited him in? That was the point that he began to *really* cosy up to my mum, like really sucking up to her. He didn't manage to have quite the same effect on my dad because he was usually at work, but since my mum is a goldsmith she works from home. It was also around that time when he rather conveniently decided that he was gay, at least that's what he told my mum, which meant that for the next roughly six months she felt unthreatened by the fact that her 12 year old daughter was having private conversations in her bedroom with a 17 year old boy with the door closed (bearing in mind I live in the UK, where the age of consent is 16).

Then, in March, it was my school's annual Pump Room Concert. At the rehearsal on the day of the concert we were in the big room upstairs where all the instruments are kept in-between the rehearsal and the concert itself, when he hugged me tightly and began to stare into my eyes. We were interrupted by a teacher coming in to put his own instrument there, but Milo later told me a couple of nights later that had the teacher *not* come in when he did he'd have kissed me. Ape brain liked this very much.

That was something of a turning point I think, because after that I can only remember our conversations in my room ending with him on top of me, tongue down my throat and hand down my knickers. At that point I had just turned 13, and he was no younger than 18.

He started to tell me about his mental health issues, he'd been orphaned at a young age but old enough to remember his parents dying, which had understandably messed him up a bit. The last I heard of this he was being treated for bipolar disorder.

That was when my friends at the time began to smell a rather large rat, and told me about the stench of said rat, which I stubbornly ignored. This ended in me having a massive row with my friendship group, which promptly divided down the middle into two factions: one relentlessly took the piss and tried to rile me up about the whole thing (I'm not friends with them anymore), and the other kept telling me that they thought he was dangerous and that I should stay away from him (I'm still friends with them). I ended up ignoring both, which caused me to become more distant from them and spend more time with Milo, spurred on by the fact that he'd told me that I was helping him cope with his depression.

This routine kept up until the end of year 9, when he fucked up all his A Levels and managed to get a place at Cardiff University by pure good luck. I spent the next two to three months convinced that *I* was the reason he'd done so badly, and thinking that the time he spent molesting me (what I interpreted at the time as me "distracting" him) he could have spent studying.

After he moved to Wales our communication gradually petered out, and I eventually realised that I was not his taboo seductress or whatever the fuck I thought our relationship dynamic was, but that I had in fact been sexually manipulated and exploited and tried to cut ties with him.

He still came over during the holidays, but far less frequently and I never let him touch me again.

I got a proper boyfriend, and thought things were looking up, when a month before my GCSEs started, he messaged me out of the blue asking if I wanted to see him again while I had the chance because he was going to kill himself. I spent the entire day sobbing on the phone to him and trying to talk him down because as much as I resented him and wanted him gone from my life, I couldn't have responsibility for his death on my conscience during my exams. I still haven't quite figured out if he was serious about it or whether he just wanted to illicit some kind of emotional response from me, but that was pretty much the final straw.

To be honest? If I could go back and redo that whole day with the knowledge of what he's done since then (namely having been in the national papers for narrowly avoided jail time over revenge-porning his ex girlfriend), I'm not entirely sure I'd have expended that much time and energy into trying to stop him. I know it sounds horrible, but at this point, when I feel dirty and ashamed in my own bed and I can't even watch Catch 22 on Channel 4 and say "Damn, Milo's cute" without getting a jarring intrusive thought of that paedophilic creep sucking on my neck and palming my fanny, I don't think I really care.

So that's where we are. If you meet him, stay the fuck away from him, for all his slime he's a charismatic bugger and knows how to get into your head until you're trapped in a web of manipulation that you just can't escape.

I've since opened up to a very close friend, still not my parents though, who said that she could see what I was going through and feeling as it was happening, and the only reason that she didn't report it was that I begged her and made her swear not to. Despite this, she went to our school nurse to ask for anonymous advice and that's mostly what's helped me get to grips with how to handle this now, and for that I cannot be more grateful. Her support has made it easier to tell the truth to a couple of other people, and to contact this account. Will it get to the point where I feel I can tell my parents or the police? I'm not sure, but I hope so.

#troll creep predator exposeacreep #submission

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the-council-of-new-york-vampires · 6 years

Note

Soooo daddy Sayeed and Priya mistress was too hot to handle WHAT ABOUT BOTH OF THEM TWO HOTTEST LADY VAMPIRES FROM THE COUNCIL WITH THEIR EYES FOR MC ALONE ?!!!!? Please give us angst or any sort of fic with the three pleaseeee

Out of Character:

This is my first try at angst. 🙂

I hope it’s alright. 😅

Amy took in the scene. The people were happy, each of them enjoying themselves, the decorations were formidable, golden and elegant, and the music was classical, suiting the atmosphere and location in the most amazing way.

Simply being there felt carefree, as if no one had a single problem or worry, as if life was perfect, at least for the hours of the party. Party, or more precisely, the Awakening Ball. An event Amy hadn’t prepared for, yet assumed she’d be attending happily.

But reality was different. She was standing in the middle of a crowd of well-dressed people, some vampires, some humans, all dancing, talking, socialising. While Amy was just… standing. And… watching. Watching Priya.

She was standing by the blood bar, drinking lots and laughing occassionally. The people she was socialising with seemed to be her metier - a society Amy thought she would never fit into. Rich vampires who were well-dressed and a little sadistic.

She couldn’t help but wonder if Priya had seen her. Why else hadn’t she approached her yet? Or was she… ignoring her? Had she forgotten about that girl she had called a “snack”, the girl who had pretended not to be interested but hadn’t been able to forget her touch since the moment she had felt it?

While her eyes stayed on Priya, Amy knew she shouldn’t be watching. She should be with someone else. Someone she had felt connected to since the first time she had looked into her eyes. Someone she knew it was worth fighting for. And that person wasn’t Priya.

So, letting her brain make this decison, Amy shook her head and left the ballroom. She stepped outside to find the someone she had been thinking of. The someone who didn’t deserve to wait only a single minute longer.

When she laid her eyes on Kamilah, sitting on a bench in Marcel’s garden, facing the pond, Amy’s heart fluttered. She had pictured this moment so often, approaching her with confidence, yet it seemed surreal.

“Hello, Kamilah.”

She turned around, her expression neutral. “Hello, Amy.”

Amy couldn’t help but wonder what that tone in her voice was besides neutrality. Was is sadness? Was it surprise? Or did Kamilah really feel nothing, the way she always pretended?

“I see, you have chosen to join me.”

Amy was shyer than she had thought herself to be. With a simple “Yes” she sat down next to Kamilah.

“And what was it that made you decide to accept my offer?”

There was a silence. Amy looked into Kamilah’s eyes, felt unbelievably close to her without a single touch. Deep inside, she knew that the answer to this question was just a single word. The word that made her heart skip a beat each time she recalled it. “You.”

Kamilah’s eyes stayed on Amy’s, unafraid to look away. In a way, she seemed to be searching for something only Amy’s eyes could reveal. “Me?”

Amy couldn’t help but grin. “You know everything. How come you don’t know this?”

Kamilah’s expression still hadn’t changed. “I don’t know everything. In fact, there’s a lot I don’t know. A lot I will never know. But something new I’ve figured out.”

Once again, Kamilah’s mysterious nature was fascinating to Amy. “What is it?” she asked, without hesitation.

Kamilah was still locking eyes with Amy as she confessed, “I enjoy your company. So much that I asked for it this night, hoping you’d come. And here you are. My wish came true.”

Amy smiled, absolutely relieved. “I… feel the same. When I’m with you, I feel a way I have never felt before. You’re… magical, special… different.”

It was surprising, but Kamilah showed a tiny, genuine smile. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time. In fact, I didn’t know I was still capable of… feeling.”

Amy was in a state of surprise. At the same time, she felt an unbelievably high amount of happiness. This was what she had wanted! …Or wasn’t it? She felt like she had won the lottery - but wasn’t able to take the prize.

“Knowing that you feel the same,�� Kamilah continued, confessing something that seemed hard for her to say, “…It makes me happy. And I haven’t been happy in… I don’t know. A span of time that feels like years.”

Amy wanted to speak, but couldn’t. The words were stuck in her throat, as if she didn’t know whether they were genuine or not. Something in her heart was holding her back from speaking out the truth.

It was then that Amy felt a cold hand on her shoulder. The answer was revealing itself.

“Heyyy.”

She turned around to see… Priya.

“Mhm, you’re looking like a real snack tonight, Amy.”

She wanted to answer, say whatever, but heard Kamilah speak up first, her expression rather angry.

“Excuse me? We were just having a conversation.”

Priya raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, in one way angry. “Uh? And?”

“A private conversation,” Kamilah added, obviously indirectly demanding her to leave.

“I thought you wanted to talk to me, Amy?”

Amy gaped. “Uh…”

Was it her insecurity that caused Priya to smirk? “You think I didn’t see how you were looking at me back at the bar? How thirsty you were for me?”

“Amy,” Kamilah wanted to know, “What is this?”

“I…” In a way, Amy felt foolish, defeated. She thought she hadn’t been able to say… “I don’t know. I like you both.”

Kamilah shook her head, seemingly hurt. “That’s not what you told me.”

“Kamilah, I-” Again, the words were stuck in her throat, refusing her to say out loud that this wasn’t a game, that she really felt this way - for both of them.

Kamilah stood up. “I don’t want to limit your options, Amy.” She walked away… and turned around. “If you have made a choice, you can find me in the ballroom.” She hesitated for a second and added, “If not… I guess this is it.” Then, she walked away - without looking back.

Amy was facing her, watching her disappear. It was painful, regrettable. She felt like having made a great mistake… until she felt a hand on her thigh, and heard a voice she knew too well.

“Damn, I thought she’d never leave.”

Amy turned to Priya, realizing they were alone, and felt electrified. Yet, afraid… unsafe… in danger.

“What did you want to talk to me about, darling?” Priya asked. Her hand stroked Amy’s thigh as she whispered in her ear, grinning, “Something dirty?”

Amy felt her heartbeat quickening. “I… don’t know. It’s like… I like you. But Kamilah, too.”

Priya chuckled. “I knew you liked me.”

“Not just you. And it’s killing me. It’s killing me not to know who I love, and being afraid to lose both of you. I’m falling. I feel like I have to make a choice I don’t know the answer to.”

Priya’s response wasn’t verbal. Instead, she leaned forward - and pulled Amy into a kiss!

For that moment, Amy was unable to speak, think, breathe. In a way, it was magical. Still, it felt wrong, unfaithful. Like cheating on a lover.

Finally, Priya pulled away.

Amy looked into her eyes. Big, brown… somehow vulnerable.

“And now?”

“I…”

“Do you know the answer now?”

Amy was torn, showing more vulnerability than Priya’s eyes could ever display. “I know nothing anymore.”

Priya responded in a way different than Amy had wished. Instead of showing compassion, an insight into her own feelings, Priya grabbed Amy’s chest.

She moved away in shock! “What-”

“Sometimes you should let your body do the talking,” Priya said in a tone that was playful but became more demanding as she added, “Don’t be stupid, Amy. I know you want this. You’ve been wanting it for days.”

Amy was shocked. Not because of Priya’s inappropriate touches - but because she knew that she was right. She had wanted this. But now, it was too much. Now, she wanted Kamilah. “Priya, I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

“And where the hell are you going?”

“Following my heart.” Without another explanation, Amy stood up and turned around to leave.

It was then that she saw it: The castle was being attacked - by numerous Ferals.

#priya lacroix #kamilah sayeed #bloodbound #bb #choices: stories you play

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terselylove · 4 years

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Depression...

My experience of dealing with social anxiety is a feeling of overwhelming fear when interacting with individuals I wasn’t comfortable with. I was unable to look people in the eye when speaking to them, and struggled to keep a conversation going. I came off as both extremely quiet and shy, as well as rude, which anyone who knows me well knows I am the opposite of.

During this period of my life my self-confidence was at an all-time low, and I felt disgusted every time I looked in the mirror. I stayed away from people as much as I could, and felt I made an embarrassment of myself whenever I went out in public. I constantly had a voice in my head saying “Why would anyone want to be friends with you? You are ugly and pathetic.”...

I love summer. Lighter evenings, longer days, warmer weather, summer dresses, perhaps even some sun if we’re lucky. Generally speaking, as seems to be common with most people I speak to – when the sun is out, I’m in a better mood. However, as someone who also experiences periods of depression, I’ve found that this isn’t generally the case when it comes to my mental health.I’m fortunate that I’m currently in a much better place at the moment but, when I think back to a few years ago, I found the summer months to be an immense struggle.When the clocks sprung forward, it all felt a little bit daunting. The things I’d usually look forward to about the change in seasons now served as reminders that I really wasn’t ok.The lighter evenings and longer days meant more time counting down the hours until it was dark enough to go to sleep. The warmer weather meant more plans to cancel and, as a result, more excuses to make up. I couldn’t even muster up the enthusiasm to decide what to wear each day – something which would ordinarily bring me a lot of enjoyment – and so the summer dresses stayed at the back of my wardrobe.Perhaps depression is a little easier to understand in the winter. It’s dark, it’s cold, most people are spending evenings at home not really doing much. If I was having a particularly bad day / week / month, it didn't feel so wrong to get home from work, change into my pyjamas and just go to bed.Yet when summer rolled around, it seemed as though everyone was out and about having the ‘best time ever’.

And then there I was, struggling to get out of bed.For someone experiencing depression, it can be difficult to watch those around you enjoying themselves. I'd mute group chats so as not to be met with the constant barrage of plans, I'd excuse myself from after-work drinks, and I'd invent reasons not to attend BBQs and family gatherings.“But it’s such a nice day…” people would say, “you should get out the house, it might cheer you up."Yes it was a nice day but, whilst their words were well-meaning, they simply weren't helpful. I already felt as though I was wasting my summer and I knew I should get out the house, but it just didn't seem possible. A nice walk on a sunny afternoon might do wonders if I'm just having an 'off day', but depression is so much more than that, and a sunny afternoon isn't a cure.Depression doesn't care about the weather, your weekend plans, or the birthday coming up that you'd do anything to be able to enjoy. It doesn't think to itself "summer is here, time for me to disappear for the next few months."

That isn't how it works.I'm in the fortunate position of having friends I could be honest with. Friends who would still keep inviting me to things 'in case I felt up to it' and didn't judge me when I stopped replying to messages for days or weeks on end. They'd suggest shorter periods of socialising that felt a lot less daunting, and remind me that they were still around if and when I felt up to going out.In more recent years, I've managed to enjoy my summers without the weight of depression casting a shadow over them to quite the same extent, and for that I'm incredibly thankful. I think my own experience has also made me more aware of how others might be feeling, and I'd encourage anyone who thinks a friend might be struggling to try to understand and have a little patience.

Some people understand it, some think it’s an attention call. For me, depression is like that pile of laundry that you don’t want to show in your Instagram pictures. I never want to show my pile of laundry to the world, I want my life to seem happy and put together, as if I folded and put away all my laundry right out of the dryer.Ever since high school I have suffered with extreme depression and anxiety. I can defend the issue for hours and hours, however I get embarrassed when I feel sad. I get so embarrassed when I am sad and those around me do not understand and treat me as if I’m crazy.Typically most of my life I’ve always just been called dramatic when I’m upset. It has become one of my biggest triggers, because most of my life I haven't had that fight to defend it. I just, quite simply, let it eat at me.Depression can be the hardest when others just don’t understand you. I get sad for no reason so often that I’ve created safe spaces. In our current home, my safe place is my bathroom floor. Probably about at least three times a month you can find me locked in my bathroom on the floor, crying. The lock on that door is the only form of power I feel I have at that moment.

I see you.

I share this because it’s real, I share this because everyone has that pile of laundry.

I know everyone may not have depression, but everyone has something hard they’ve experienced, everyone has something to share and everyone has something to relate to.

Many times I have found myself on that bathroom floor contemplating life and how to make it past that very moment, will I? I have to say how thankful I am that I haven’t followed through. Life is so hard. Sprinkle on some depression, heck, dump it on - and life is now even more hard.Please don’t ask me how I can be so sad I could contemplate suicide. Because honestly I do not know, nor do most people in that situation. How did we make it to this moment? What did I do to deserve this sorrow?You never know who is hurting. Those who are, we often are the most resistant, waiting for a hand to be held out for us to grab onto as the pressure of our mental being closes in on us.Check up on those who are quiet, those who check up on you; maybe conversation is being sparked due to their need to communicate. Let’s talk about our hard times, it’s healing, not embarrassing.So, here’s my laundry pile. You’re not alone.

Depression is not an emotion - it's an illness

Ah, mental health stigma surrounding depression. The worst that's been said to me in all these years having depression is:"Don't go and have a moment on me!""Don't quit your job. I know your job has been making you feel depressed but you're being stupid. You haven't tried hard enough.""Is that all your depressed about?""Stop being ungrateful and take your Great Aunt's advice!"

Please, stop.

This is not me being lazy, ungrateful or selfish. This is me dealing, sometimes suffering, with depression. This is my demon running its black toxins through my head, poisoning my thoughts and feelings.

Depression is not an emotion, it's an illness. A completely and utterly illogical illness. Just like with colds, for example, some colds can just be a little sniffle, sneeze, etc, while some colds can completely wipe you out and keep you bed-bound for x amount of time. Whether you have a mild cold or one from hell, you still have a valid cold. People with the strongest immune systems can still be affected by them.

From an outsider’s point of view, sure, they would be able to see the positive things going on in your life. However, when depression strikes, for me at least, it feels like a part of my brain has turned off the switch to be able to enjoy things. If it's really bad, I'm unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel with whatever I'm dealing with. I can also feel like a shell of a person sometimes. It's as if my brain has temporarily sucked up my personality and misplaced it somewhere else. I'm there but not there at the same time.

I don't choose to do this, depression is basically trying to tie me down in a chair at the cinema, forcing me to watch its fake "reality" tale about how my life will always be rubbish, dark, etc and how I'm worthless. Sometimes I can fight it off, but other times it can catch me off guard and I believe it for a while. Depression, by the way, is one hell of a liar.

The best way I can describe the switch being turned off is while you can see the beautiful colours of the world, I only see black, grey and white. My favourite meal in front of me is suddenly tasteless mush. My favourite TV show/YouTube channel is changed to, what feels like, a very boring presentation about something I've never been remotely interested in. Going out with loved ones can feel like everyone is spinning around me in fast motion while I'm sitting there in slow.

Depression is one of the worst things I have ever experienced, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Thankfully over the last 9 years I've learned to differentiate my depression thoughts from my healthy thoughts. I know my depression is just trying to make me watch a fake tale about me and my life, like how I described earlier, but I know I can beat it each and every time it knocks me. Depression might be strong but I'm much, much stronger.

Please do not judge other people's struggles and do listen to what they have to say. Their mountain may be a molehill to you, but everyone is different and everyone’s feelings are valid. Please, please always remember that.

For a long while, I've been having issues with mental health. I remember asking my mum one day years ago if hearing and seeing things was normal and her response still sticks with me. "You're too young and don't know what REAL mental health problems are."

At the time I was incredibly depressed, anxious and scared of myself and what I might do. Whenever I tried to reach out and ask to see someone for help because I was seeing things, she always gave an excuse to dismiss what was going on, like I needed more sleep or I needed to "stay off that phone!". I just wish she might have listened a bit more, instead of brushing me off as lying, or getting angry and impatient with me. If she had been more supportive, I would have felt more capable of handling myself during my bad episodes.

Considering that not even my own mother would believe me, I truly felt alone and thought that no one would listen to me and brush me off as liar or even a fake. It made it hard for me to reach out for help or take care of myself in the ways I needed.

Now that I'm in my later years of university and I'm in a relationship, I've had to be truthful to myself and acknowledge that I do have issues that need help with. It's taken me even longer to learn how to trust people, that people will reach out to help me if I ask for the help I dearly need. That I won't be told I'm too young or it's because I'm tired or because I'm on my phone too much before going to sleep.

It's taken me years to realize that I need help and that no one but me can choose whether or not what I'm dealing with is real. I don't need someone to compare their own experiences to mine and deem my cry for help as valid or not. But if I had a parent that believed me and took me to someplace where I could've gotten the help I needed, I think I would've been able to cope better with my conditions now.

Some people fail to realize that mental health doesn't discriminate against age and sadly for me it was the person I looked up to most that failed me.

I never know how to explain depression to someone. It’s so different for everyone and comes in so many different forms. Some people describe their depression as a weight that holds them down, ever-present and demanding of their time. Others describe it as a shadow that looms in the back of your mind, always taunting and jabbing and trying to tear you down. Some days, you just have thicker skin. And then sometimes, depression is described like drowning. It’s wading in an ocean of poison and barely catching your breath before you’re dragged back under.

I don’t think people understand that depression is constant. Some days it doesn’t feel as heavy, it doesn't tug and pull as hard. And other days, it knocks you down before you can even get out of bed.

I am always fighting this constant battle with myself. I may smile and laugh and seem happy, but know that, somewhere, in the back of my mind I'm struggling. The happy interludes, the in-between where the weight doesn’t feel as heavy, are simply vacations from the reality that is my depression.

It makes me feel like a failure, no matter my successes. I feel worthless and like I’m a burden on everyone around me.

My depression is a beast that lives inside me. It whispers horrible things in my ear, tells me that I am waste of space. And all the while, I have to smile and pretend I’m okay.

That life isn’t beating me, no way. I’m too stubborn for that. I have to pretend that there isn’t some rabid animal inside of me, clawing to get its grip around my throat and snuff out my life.

People who don’t have depression don’t understand. But they can still be there for people like me. When they say something that scares you, don’t yell. Don’t get angry because you don’t comprehend how their mind works.

My mind is a scary place. I shouldn’t need to open up and spill my darkness for your compassion.

Support people with depression, even if you don’t understand. Just be there.

0 notes

scraplette · 7 years

Text

Lost Light #10 Thoughts & Feels

After nearly TWO YEARS we finally reaturn to the titular Lost Light. Oh boy...

As always, under a readmore for them spoilers.

New arc so no LAST TIME segment :)

Word of warming, my dears. I like Getaway. He might've had some valid points regarding Ex-Decepticon warlords, but he's a piece of shit who did some terrible, manipulative things, and I like him. I like that he's an unapologetic bastard. You can enjoy a character and still acknowledge and condemn the terrible things they've done. Sometimes, it's just fun to watch a good villain at work.

So if you don't like Getaway(and you have every reason not to) this recap might not be for you. Then again, it’s not as if I’m showering him in praise.

Onwards!

+This is going to be an interesting arc for me because most of the characters are guys I'm not overly familiar with. I obviously know first Aid(hey cutie) but the rest of his team I haven't a clue.

My knowledge of the Protectobots basically boils down to this. Rook is an afterthought(Combiner Wars was not kind to him) Blades is not an adorable helicopter who likes TV shows. Mirage is the posh one who is sometimes invisible and was a traitor(except he wasn't) and isn't a Protectobot.

Aaaaaaaand that's it. Hopefully the arc will shed some light on these characters.

Wow, been a while since we've the the Lost Light. Feels weird.

+”I had a plan! Same plan as always:survive.”

Oh, First Aid :(

+Crashing into the shuttle bay isn't a bad plan. Better than exploding in space.

+Whoo. The return of trigger happy security team. Seriously, guys, chill!

+YAY! GETAWAY!

+Hi, Atomizer. Hm, why didn't you slow down? It's not like you didn't recognise the shuttle since it's obviously one belonging to the Lost Light. We saw it at the end of MTMTE #43

I see through your bullshit.

I adore that I'm scrutinising everything Getaway says. Does this mean, if First Aid had stayed on the LL, he would've sided with the Mutineers? (It does)

+Is Atomizer telling the truth here? If yes, it means the BBC are preparing for something big.

+[Covers face] Getaway is being disgustingly charming and evasive. I love it!

… I need to see these scenes in the comic. No! Bugger it! I can't wait that long! I'll do it myself! [grabs crayons]

+Rodimus with a Lafuente space colour paintjob would be stunning [fans self]

+”I like him a lot. But I don't know if I trust him.”

First Aid perfectly summing up my Getaway feelings.

+Aw, look at First Aid being all proactive.

+Blades' rambling about “Delphi: Mark 2” seems silly at first, but I think it subtly explains First Aid's mistrust of the whole situation. Delphi was a bitter lesson.

+Love First Aid reminding everyone that he is, in fact, the new CMO. Ratchet said so. Should've gotten him to write it down or something.

+Bugger me. Blades is really growing on me.

+Clever to do a spark scan.

+I'm just going to quietly squee every time Getaway is on page, aren't I?

+THUNDERCLASH [sigh] What a guy.

…

… Who's in another coma.

Circles?… Ha. Ha.

Hindsight is a bitch.

[inhales sharply] You did that on purpose you slimy git ]=<

Sidebar. Seriously, what is Getaway's problem with Rung? Getaway is terrible to everyone but when Rung is involved he becomes oddly blatant about it. During MTMTE #41 he was throwing some serious shade about our favourite nerd bot to Skids, who leapt to Rung's defence because Skids will always be best boy.

I'm wondering if he was jealous of Rung and Skids' friendship.

MOVING ON!

+Oh! We're outside the oil reservoir... Something horrible is in there, isn't it?

Getaway is lying here. But why? If First Aid accepts the lie that means the rest of the crew are bound to the lie too. Does this mean the crew are prepared to lie for Getaway.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

+Adore, absolutely adore, how Getaway is making this all about him. Twisting his words to garner sympathy. Ah yessss~

+Mirage's horror over the term “pint”, and the ensuing rant, made me chuckle.

HE HAS A FACE?!

Not going to lie. I didn't recognise bare faced First Aid and went back a page because I thought I'd missed a panel.

+Nice to see Hoist is still lovely.

+They can only socialise one night a week? Hm, keeping the crew isolated is a clever way to control the spread of information. Maybe I was wrong to think it would be hard for Getaway to maintain such a big lie.

LIES! ALL LIES!

I don't understand! These are all good people! Why are they lying! Why are they surporting Getaway! Xarron! You're a bloody legal adviser! Hound was there for the #50 transmission! I’m especially baffled given what we find out later in the issue. WHY YOU DO THIS!

UNLESS! Unless... Does Getaway still have the nudge gun?

+What's the Warren? Jackpot? JACKPOOOOOOOT!

+Is the Warren full of super wise space rabbits? I'd be up for that.

+Weeks?! Cyberutopia is weeks away? Wow, I'm glad someone can make sense of the map because it looks like space bibby boop to me.

Look at this? It's pretty but what does it mean? Are those planets?

Actually, now that I think about it, they've always been very vague about the map. We know they're following the it but they never say where. We're never given names or locations, nothing. Isn't that odd.

And don't you dare think I've forgotten about the map being beamed directly into Rodimus' and THUNDERCLASH'S [sigh] brain.

Oh no, I haven't forgotten.

[Anguished squeak]

+”I think he was just frustrated. You know Whirl: He's got no idea what he wants, bit he sure as hell knows he hasn't got it.”

Accurate Whirl description is accurate.

+An empty Swerve's is a very depressing sight.

+Blades is very keen on his Delphi: mark II theory.

+What happened to those forty-two people O_O

+AH! Rook spoke! I didn't know he could do that.

I really like Mirage in this scene. In this instant he's the voice of the audience. Like us, he has a history with a lot of these characters, and it hurts to think your friends could be lying to you.

+Interesting that First Aid balked at the thought of execution considering what he did to Pharma. But, then again, maybe this ties into it. He thought Pharma being dead would make things better but it didn't. Killing Pharma was an act of vengeance and anger, and it effected him deeply.

I'm not saying Megatron not being executed was a good thing, but just like in real life you have people who're against the death penalty. Perhaps First Aid is one of those people.

+Wait! Mirage remembers the two questions! First Aid too! That means they sided with the mutineers!

+RIPTIDE!

+Hang on, Getaway sent the DJD? We know about this deal with the Galactic Council, but we always assumed the DJD was just a sad, very unfortunate, coincidence. How deep does this lie go?

Also, Getaway, that was an unnecessary dick move.

+This does confirm that this was NEVER about getting Megatron off the ship, so toodles to that sort of moral high ground Getaway had.

I'm not surprised but this information because a mutiny was in the works waaaaaay before Megatron's trial.

+SCANDALOUS!

It's just text, but I swear I can feel the sarcasm dripping through the screen. Oh God, it's everywhere! Ease up there, Getaway.

Wow, that sounds like an actual living Hell.

WHAT THE HELL GETAWAY!

+Okay, who's been nibbling brains?

+It's just occurred to me that Percy is noticeably absent...

+Not mention of sparks.

+I'm getting the “Bomp that.” speech bubble framed.

+Riptide has been promoted from freaky fish boy to good fish boy.

+I love that “going Full Prowl” is not only a thing but a recognised military tactic. Just mwah, good stuff.

+A little part of me is bummed out that no one thought to use Brainstorm's safeguards.

Oh no...

Oh. No.

SCREEEEEEEE-

So AHEM yeah... Good ending.

+Holy crap. I wonder how many loops First Aid has been through(he’s in every scene so these have to be his memories) what about Riptide? HOW LONG?

O_O

#Lost Light #MTMTE #thoughts and feels #Transformers #macadams

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arcadefloorvibes · 4 years

Text

Dear Tumblr

Alright, I’ve been meaning to write this for ages (literally a month) because tumblr wouldn’t let me post this on mobile so now I’m posting this from my laptop

Now, the main reason I announced what was going on with Laurie is because 1) I felt like since you guys have been with me for most of that journey, I should let you know when it ends

And 2) because there’s a really cute guy at my home-school meet up and I’m going to die.

To explain, me and a few of my friends attend a monthly roller-skating event with a bunch of other home schoolers, it’s great, it’s fun, I personally freaking love roller-skating so this whole thing sounded awesome to me

And I’d been to the place since it’s the only goddamn roller-skating rink that isn’t 5 hours away (I wish I was kidding)

This is a long one guys, buckle up

So, we rock up and in my head I did the same thing that happened with Laurie,

“Hey Jordaaaaaan” the stupid romantic part of me said “what if…. You get a datemate here…. In a veeeeeeeeery fanfic fluff scenario place??????? HMMMMMMMMMMMMM???????”

And I’m like “no brain very unlikely”

Which is also what I thought when I met Laurie.

So, we’re waiting outside, eager to go and skate and I start examining the potential datemate candidates.

Because I’m a lonely pan that just wants a FUCKING DATE

Plus, the last mass group meeting thing I did, I didn’t know I was pan. So that meant everyone was an option

I tap my friend who I have mentioned before as BTSfan or if you watch my YT videos you’ll soon find out her name, (I’m not saying it here because I don’t know if she’s cool with her name on tumblr, but you know who you are), and I’m like “Is that (Name of other friend who we haven’t seen in ages and TBH isn’t exactly relevant in this but it makes sense later why I’m mentioning him)” and she’s like “Holy shit, he’s way taller now” and we start talking to him and being like “hey HOLY SHIT YOU’RE TALL” and I stop looking for datemate candidates.

Thank god.

If I noticed the guy I’m about to mention now, I would have died on the spot.

So, we go in and I realise out of the friend group I’m in, four of us, I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS HOW TO SKATE

So, I skate on roller-skates because I feel safer on them and I actually own those white 90’s looking ones

Not joking I own this exact pair, fuck rollerblades I’m out here looking old school AF

So, I don’t really know how to teach rollerblades, thankfully my friend BTSfan and her sister Prettyfriend’s mom knew how to skate rollerblades so she taught Prettyfriend and Tallfriend how to do that while I taught BTSfan

And thennnnnnnnn

Cuteboy appeared

Cuteboy (I swear to god I’m obsessed) was wearing like a sans jacket but it looked like denim

Like imagine this but denim

That’s what he was wearing

And I was like HOLY SHIT HE’S REALLY CUTE

And I tap my friend and I’m like “Not to freak you out, but there is a REALLY CUTE GUY SKATING BY US” and she looks at him and literally says “OKAY WOW”

And then he did the most amazing thing that probably isn’t that amazing to people who roller-skate a lot but to a pretty much casual skater this was amazing to me

He skated a FUCKING CROSS STEP TURN

I’M NOT FUCKING KIDDING

I WAS LOSING MY MIND

AND MY FRIEND WAS LOSING HER MIND

AND WE WERE LIKE HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!

So, for the whole hour we were there I stared at this boy CONSTANTLY like he would skate past and I would just stop and stare at him until BTSfan was like “Uhhhh Jordan! You’re drifting off!” I would drift away from her, I nearly crashed into a wall, I WOULD NOT STOP STARING AT THIS BOY

I started trying to build up the courage to ask for his name because either I wanted his name or for him to know his cross step looks FUCKING AWESOME

And I just couldn’t ask him, I couldn’t say anything

Then BTSfan needed a break halfway through, (Understandable we’d been skating for half an hour straight and she was a newbie), so I started skating on my own

God, I missed the feeling of just skating

When we did that session in November, I hadn’t skated since January, I hadn’t skated on a driveway, a tennis court, nothing

And it just felt really nice to skate again

Plus, I got to dance skate and dear GOD I MISSED THAT SO MUCH

Dance skating is basically me skating to the tune of the music.

On tennis courts that’s really hard to do, so being on a smooth concrete surface made me move really fast.

And then Cuteboy skated past me at one point and was like fiVE CENTIMETRES AWAY FROM MY ARM

AND THEN I REALISED HE WASN’T WEARING THE JACKET

HE WASN’T WEARING THE JACKET

HE WAS WEARING A CAMO T SHIRT

I WENT INTO FUCKING PANIC MODE

I skated over to BTSfan and just whispered “HE’S NOT WEARING THE JACKET” and she was like “I wondered when you’d notice, are you okay?”

“NO, I'M GOING TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK”

And she was like “do you want me to take a photo?” and I'm like “No, RESPECT PRIVACY” and she’s like “OKaaaaaaaaaaaay” and then I get back to dying

LAURIE WAS NOTHING LIKE THIS

AT ALL

Laurie was cute and he’s still going to have a place in my heart, but my emotions toward him more like extreme butterflies

One thing I say a lot when it comes to my crushes is that I can easily talk to them, meaning they have no clue I like them.

IF THIS BOY HASN’T NOTICED HE IS EXTREMELY BLIND I NEVER BLUSH THIS MUCH

Like I’d look at him, and just—

Everything speeds up and I struggle breathing and just

WHAT IS WITH ME

But then, unfortunately

Time ran out

And I wouldn’t see him for another month

So, I’m taking off my skates, hoping to see him and be like “Hey your cross step looked awesome” but he doesn’t show up.

Because he left the rink through the other gate not facing me to return the skates he borrowed from the rink.

I only know this because afterwards I saw him and my friends talking to him.

Well more specifically, Prettyfriend because she knows how to socialise and talk to other human beings

I know I found one of those “extroverts” I’m amazing

And then just as I’m admiring how fuCKING PRETTY THIS BOY IS

BTSfan comes running over

And I’m like “are you okay—” “I have just done God’s work”

And I’m like ????

“his name is Edward”

Not his real name but equally beautiful

I immediately hug her “I love you and you’re the greatest human being on this planet and don’t you dare think otherwise”

I mean I normally say those things to her but like this was a joyous moment

So, I go over with her to where our other friends are taking off their skates when Cuteboy has to leave

He waves at us and says bye and I inSTINCTIVELY WAVE AND SAY BYE BACK BECAUSE I’M A PERSON WHO’S ETERNALLY AFRAID OF BEING RUDE

He leaves and I just realised that’s the first time I spoke to him

And heard his voice

And I’m just going red and just processing this

“Jordan are you okay?” Prettyfriend totally knew already, “I don’t know” I reply bringing my hands in the fucking anime pose of covering blush

LIKE EXACTLY THIS

And so ends the november Rollerskating session

It was when I checked instagram later I realised I left a pretty gaping loophole for BTSfan

I said I didn’t want her to take photos of him for me

I forgot she thought he was cute too

So I open up the tagged photo of all the selfies and right at the end there is a small 20 second video of him skating

I LOST MY MIND

Not in anger at what she did, she had said earlier she has a bit of a stalker side

But more of

HOLY SHIT I CAN LOOK AT HIM WHENEVER I WANT

So yeah

That was the first Rollerskating session

Now you’re probably wondering “why do you wait a month to post this, you said you’d do it after a week!”

Yes I know.

But then before I knew it the december session arrived

Which as I’m writing this at 11pm it is the day of

AND I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE

I JUST

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alright a bit of backstory on this,

1) When the video I recorded with BTSfan comes out everything we talked about at the end of the recording will have already happened

2) BTSfan was dared by another friend to either use a pickup line on one of the guys there OR ask them to brush her hair which is how her parents met

So…

She was really nervous about it and she was like

“If I do that dare, you have to at least say hi to Edward, I don’t care if that’s all you say and then leave, just say hi to him”

And so that was what I set off to do

And holy shit did I FAIL THAT TASK

What I didn’t expect was that 1) I would really miss him after a month and 2)

I HAVE LIKE A SENSOR ON HIM

We walk in a bit late and BTSfan is like “I wonder if he’s here” and I’m like “No, he’s here.”

WE HAVEN’T EVEN PAID ENTRANCE YET, CAN BARELY SEE THE RINK AND I ALREADY DEFINITELY KNOW HE’S HERE

AND I WAS FUCKING RIGHT TOO

This also happens later when we’re playing a game the roller rink people set up and there’s like 30 people on the rink.

I get eliminated and go sit next to BTSfan who realised that rollerblading actually hurts your feet more

“Is he still in the game?” “Yeah.” “how do you know?” and then without looking told her exactly where on the rink he was standing (the game was like musical chairs) She looks behind me and I'M RIGHT

“I DIDN’T EXPECT YOU TO ACTUALLY KNOW!”

“WAIT WHAT??” I was shocked at myself tbh

But my mission was to talk to him

And goddamn it I couldn’t do it

If you guys have seen that one OZMAFIA episode on my channel where Kyrie finally confesses to us and I have to read out that line IT WAS LIKE THAT BUT IN REAL LIFE

I JUST HAD TO SAY HI ITS NOT THAT FUCKING HARD

I would get the word, make my voice get ready to say it, sense where he was, time it, see him and—

The words die in my throat

Wonderful Jordan fucking brilliant

BTW BTSfan did ask a boy to brush her hair and it WORKED???? Like, he accepted. And then it got awkward and my friend never talked to him again but hey she did it! and she’s shyer than me!

I JUST HAD TO SAY HI

NOT

THAT

FUCKING

HARD

So, it gets to a point, where I tell BTSfan “okay I don’t think I’m going to do this, physically,” and then……

At the worst

And I mean the worst possible timing ever

He destroyed any possible chance that I would be able to say hi to him

God I’m blushing thinking about it

Okay

So, he’s doing his cross-turn thing

And I of course go and look at him

And its when I realise he’s blocked by a bunch of small children

He has only one direction to go

Which is the wall

Its’ safe and he won’t run over children

What he would do is crash into ME

I noticed this and started to move out the way, but the children blocked ME

AND SO HE CRASHED INTO ME DOING A FUCKING KABEDON

EXCEPT WAY MORE AWKWARD AND LIKE CRASHING INTO ME

SPECIFICALLY PUTTING HIS HANDS ON MY WAIST IN AN ATTEMPT TO MOVE ME (didn’t work)

HE JUST SAYS “sorry, are you okay?” AND I’M LIKE “yeah I’m fine” AND SKATES OFF NOT REALISING THE EMOTIONAL TRAIN WRECK HE JUST PUT ME THROUGH

And BTSfan is like “are you okay?” I knew she meant physically because you know someone just crashed into me

BUT AT THAT POINT I WAS JUST FREAKING OUT

I'M FREAKING OUT AGAIN JUST WRITING THIS

“Physically, yes. Mentally, no.” I actually could not breathe properly, my heart was pounding out of my chest, I was losing my MIND

The guy I HAVE A CRUSH ON

JUST GRABBED MY WAIST

I WAS NOT EMOTIONALLY OR MENTALLY OKAY WHATSOEVER

“BTSfan, I am having a heart attack and I am not going to be able to speak to him now. At all. Not happening”

And I just skated

And just

Tried to ignore EVERYTHING OR ELSE I WAS GOING TO ACTUALLY DIE

It nears the end

And the final song is playing

And I brace myself for the final song because last time it was a Bruno mars song that I really hated and I so far they were playing nearly the exact same songs

And then….

SOME

BODY

ONCE TOLD ME

And I was like “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

Fun fact: the last time I heard All Star it was Laurie singing it, so yayyyyyy

And I just kept skating and honestly I hated that song before Laurie, it was good for memes but repeatedly and as a song I hated it

But after Laurie I did genuinely start to enjoy the song so I’m singing and skating to this song and I notice Edward dance skating to the song and just

He’s adorable and I really like this boy

So, by this point I’ve accepted the fact I won’t be able to speak to him and thank every god under the sun that the flashing rainbow lights were still on when he crashed into me

I’m skating, I’m singing, I’m trying to ignore the memory in my head—

“Jordan!”

And instantly I turn my head around and

It’s Edward

Its FUCKING EDWARD

“How are you?”

“I’m doing good, how have you been?” “Doing good, only fallen over once so that’s pretty good!” then he waves at me “See you later!” and skates off

I find myself the nearest wall and just process what the EVER-LOVING FUCK JUST HAPPENED

HE SPOKE TO ME

HE KNOWS MY NAME

HIS VOICE IS WAY HOTTER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE

KNOWS

NAME

AND THEN PRETTY FRIEND COMES OVER AND SHE’S LIKE “How’d go~?” and I’m like “If I die, you know the cause, HOLY SHIT HE KNOWS MY NAME”

So, I just hit blushy mess mode and just

I don’t even remember the rest of what happened

Afterwards I’m putting on my shoes

By myself

Because I’m the only one that actually owns skates and doesn’t have to return them

And then because I’m still sneaking glances at him, he makes eye contact and waves

And just

I wave back because I’m a polite person

And I hope and pray he mistakes the blush for overheating

Just

And then my brother who already knew and came about fifteen minutes earlier comes up to me and is like “I saw you talk to him” “Byakuya I’m going to flip a table help me” To explain his name by the way he’s a reincarnated 9year old Byakuya Togami

In other words, an emotionless bitch.

He has never cried at a movie. We’ve watched Lion King with him

THE FUCKER DIDN’T CRY AT MUFASA’S DEATH HE IS AN EMOTIONLESS HUSK

About an hour after all the roller-skating happened Byakuya told me that Prettyfriend had asked him to talk to me

Which is fine

It’s just that if I die we all know who the murderer behind the scenes is

I did say “thank you for doing that and also thank you for giving me a heart attack”

So then after all that

I’m here

At 12am

Writing this

Because otherwise I will implode from all the emotions

If ya’ll read this whole thing then holy shit you are a legend and I love you you’re amazing thank you for caring enough about my rambles that you read through almost 3000 words when that could be spent on fanfiction

Thank you

Will there be an update next month? Most likely

I will probably be dying then as well

Anyways

I guess this goes under Edward Stories now huh

Or RollerBoy

Eh I’ll do both

Alrighty then I’m going to try and sleep now so yeah

Oooh wait Imma tag @cubedtriangle in this, girl this is a ride and half, like I thought Laurie was a ride but damn if this ain’t a fucking death roller coaster then I don’t know what it is

Okay then everything seems to be in order

Have a good night or morning wherever you are!

Maze Girl out

P.S I want “Accept the crazy and the world becomes more fun” on my grave in case I do die from this boy

#edward stories #crush #maze girl #dear tumblr #rollerboy #help

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c-rankin93 · 7 years

Text

Uncle Archie Knows Best

A/N: so me being the anti-social person i am, decided to troll Tumblr. When i came across THIS lovely post about MMFD prompts, and i haven't done a prompt for many moons.. soo.. i wrote this in about an hour, because of my 'shes no you' multi chapter creation. so hope you like it even if its just thrown together and i though id just add the tag list to my other Fic.

Runs and Hides now... Because i dont even know where this came from!

Archibald at your service...

Now let me tell you a story, a fickle little shrine to two people I love dearly. A story so pleasantly surprising you'll be wondering 'what happens next?' You've seen Rae's point of view, and maybe even Finn's, but have you viewed it from the outside looking in?

I can read Finn better then a poem written by Shakespeare himself, and Rae let's just say hostility and regret can never be covered by a sarcastic joke. Her facial expression tell a story of their own, I just so happen to be a fantastic Explorer. Summer of '96, currently 3 days, 7 hours and 19 minutes ago was the last time I had seen or heard from either Rae or Finn. Which was incredibly odd because I ALWAYS get the one moody phone call from Rae everyday, telling me to get my arse moving and to meet her at the pub. Oblivious to the time she's calling, which would be tethering on lunchtime. And I, being the early riser I am would already be wide awake and on my 3rd cup of peppermint tea. Finn on the other hand would just levitate around, half the time fading into the background by the jukebox until it was time to see Olivia. Olivia, Finn's new prized possession. The 24 year old business women that seemingly found a newly fresh 17 year old attractive enough to date. And if Finn's docile smiles have any indications, he really didn't know what she saw either. That stupid boy jumped head first into a pile of his own shit, when he got involve with Olivia. I know why he did it though, Rae hurt him that night she broke up with him. He wasn't stupid, he had heard the rumours about Liam and Rae. The kiss. The fight. He wasn't even keen to go on the date in the first place, but he walked outta the pizza place with a new girlfriend. Coincidence? Yeah, your probably right. So what happens when Uncle Archie knocks some sense into a dim witted Finn Nelson? Nothing. You know why? Because they hadn't contacted me in 3 days! No 'thank yous' or 'Fuck yous', just a whole lot of silence. My mind maybe a little fuzzy, my alcohol ingestion that night was more then I'm willing to disclose. But I do remember what I said to Finn outside the pub after Rae made a dramatic, but also quite hilarious exit... (Fades off into a memory. Woooohooo *spooky fingers*) "Finn, a word. Outside?" My eyes gravite towards the gang; who are still wondering 'what just happened?' Before they land on the boy in question. He too looked a little put out, but agreed to talk. Finn kissed Olivia's cheek quickly, then trailed after me into the bellow freezing temperatures of a summers night in Stamford. We huddled close together around the side of the pub, away from prying ears. He kept looking around, trying to see what direction Rae sprinted off to and when he saw her fading figure he frowned. "What the bloody hell were you thinking Finn!" I pointed an accusing finger at him and shoved it into his chest multiple times. "Wot?" He replied, defending himself from my unslaught. "What do you think your doing bring Olivia to the pub? Especially when you know Rae will be there!" This boy was smarter then he looked. He knew exactly what he had done tonight, he brang Olivia to show everyone he had moved on. He just had no idea that was the topic I chose to broach with him tonight, we'll until now. "I didn't do anythin' wrong Arch. Liv wanted to meet you all tonight, especially 'Cause she knew Rae was there. She wanted to get to know everyone." I swear gay men are the only smart creatures on this planet. "You twat! She was sizing up the completion! 'Oh Rae how lovely to meet you, Finn talks soo much about you'" I spoke with a girly accent. It wasn't my finest work, but at least I got my point across. "And what's with all this cheesy nickname shit. Bug? Really Finn! When you guys chose pet names, were you laying in bed cuddling too?" "Hold up Arch! Remember Rae left me! Not the other way around. She has to use to me datin' other girls-" "Woman" I interrupted. "Girls-women whateva! I had to deal with it, so does she." I shook my head at the stupid boy I decided to call my best friend. "Do you not listen to the stories that get spread around school" I asked honestly. After socialising in the same circle as Macca and Simmy for a few weeks, I had grown a custom to the foul things they talked about involving the other students. And to my regret, Rae had been a topic well and truly covered. "What are you talking about? You know I can't stand college" Finn stressed running a hand through his hair. I caught him look in the direction Rae headed, but unfortunately her figure had disappeared by now. "After your little disabled toilets stun, you two became quite famous. I'm surprised you didn't hear about your little escapade floating in the wind." "You know nothin' happened. We talked, and I kissed her. And it shouldn't matter what happened in there anyway! It's nobody else's business." Sighing, I thought of a different way to broach the subject. "Finn its a place full of teens, gossip is their only form of communication. We are a nasty breed of people, that will twist and turn the truth until it's a plausible story. It doesn't matter what really happened. All they know is you and Rae locked yourselves in the toilet, alone, together. They have an imagination. Everyone thinks you two had fucked." Finn scoffed acting like it was the stupidest thing he has ever heard. Then it clicked. The clogs in this brain meshed together in harmony, he finally got what I was trying to say. "What are they saying about Rae?" "Do you want the truth? Or would you like me to sugar coat it?" I asked honestly. It didn't matter how and what I said, I know Finn was going to be mad once he finds out. "Truth." "They are saying along the lines of... Rae is a fat minging bird that you felt sorry for so you decided to give her a sympathy fuck..." "And she's heard this?" I nodded. "What about you and the rest of the gang? Have you heard this?" I regretfully nodded again. "Why hasn't anyone told me this shit! Why haven't you done anything about it Archie!" I bowed my head in shame. Here I am berating Finn about what he's doing to Rae when I too was only hurting her as well. "I honestly thought you knew and shrugged off the silly rumour like you normally do, I mean when you heard about Rae and Liam you laughed. And I know I should of done something Finn. I'm just trying to fit in at the moment, and I fucked up! We all fucked up" I sighed. "So she believe what people where saying about her then? That's why she broke up with me? Not because she didn't want to be with me but because she doesn't think she's worthy of me." "I don't know Finn" I shrugged. "She had a mental break down not that long ago. Anything could be going through her mind right now." Finn patted his jacket pocket, checking for his wallet and what not before looking back at me with a sad smile attached to his face. "I have to go talk to her before she gets to the pigeon race." I snorted. "Really Finn?" "Look just tell the others I had to run off, I-ugh-I had toooo..." "Go to a pigeon race?" I laughed. "Yeah whatever. Just tell Olivia I'll call her tomorrow" he shouted the last part as he darted across the road. He ran down the road leading to Rae's house. I hoped I had done the right thing. "CALL ME!" I shouted, but Finn had already faded into the black. "Well what to do now?" I mumbled to myself staring at the pub doors. I didn't particular want to venture back into that domain, especially without Finn in tow. Eh. I think chop will be quite alright with the ladies tonight. I started walking towards my car. I think it was time for a peppermint tea. (And.. CUT!) But he never called me.. He never picked up the phone, his dad being away on a work trip didn't help. Even Linda didn't spill the beans, she just said she was out. So you see my glorious friends, here is my little story about how Uncle Archie either saved the day or got himself into a load of shit. Time will tell to establish the ending of this story. All I know for one, is it won't be ending with someone jumping on a train to Bristol. I'll shut that shit down quick smart. So until then I will bid you farwell- *Ringing* "Holy fuck" I mumbled wiping the drool sliding down my chin. The ringing continued to blare through the room as I picked my head up from the desk I fell asleep at. I rubbed my forehead and groaned before reaching over my lamp to grab the phone. "Ello?" I croaked, sleep still evident in my voice. "Archie?" I bolted up right as soon as I heard Finn's voice, which caused me to fall backwards off the chair. I laid there a few seconds before dragging the receiver to my ear and taking the base with it causing it to land on my leg. Fuck. "Yeah?" "Did you just- never mind. What's going on?" "What's going on? WHAT'S GOING ON? Three fucking days Finn! No contact from you, nothing" I sat up straight. "What happened?" "Uh well I broke up with Olivia" Finn said warily. I snorted. "Don't give a toss about that! What happened with Rae did you find her?" "Yeah I found her." "And?" I stressed. I'd start going grey soon if Finn kept talking in riddles. "Here I am stressing. Having waky ass dreams about me narrating a story about you two and all your giving me is a short answer. I need information Finn Nelson!" "Are you alright Arch? You seem a bit strange this evening" Finn had the audacity to laugh. "Finn!" "Ohkay. Ohkay. We talk, no details. And we sorted stuff out. Starting fresh. We're going to try again." I smiled. Whatever Finn said actually worked. Honestly I thought the twat would fumble over his words, but he actually did it. I was like a proud father. "Ohkay that's good" I played it cool but inside I was jumping up and down like a school girl. "Are you Bellends coming to the pub anytime soon to socialise? Or are you two not quite ready to come out of your bubble?" "Nah we'll see ya tonight. Catch." "See you then." The line went dead and I sagged back onto the ground. Oh it was glorious being Uncle Archie. Being wise beyond my years, with a dramatic group of friends that helped expand my growing ego. I could sell my story and become a millionaire one day.

*dramatized exit*

@lily-pop-2 @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus @hey1tskat1e @arathewallflower @mmfdfanfic @luly310 @l88cym @tinakegg @milllott @milymargot @lurkernolonger

#mmfdfanfic #ilovemmfd #my mad fat diary #my mad fat fandom #my mad fat diary fic #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #archie

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emospritelet · 7 years

Text

Waiting Game - chapter 4

People yelled at me after the last chapter, so here I am trying to fix things :)

Not saying I’m successful, but the point stands

AO3 link

Lacey got some raised eyebrows on the street outside, but she didn’t much care, taking the bus to the university campus and hurrying home to shower and change. The race to get to class on time was a pleasant distraction from the thoughts that kept slipping into her mind and digging their gleeful claws into her self-esteem.

Fuck him, she thought sourly, as she slid into a chair, the rest of the class taking their seats around her. Not like there aren’t a dozen like him around here.

The unfortunate thing, as she well knew, was that there was no one like Gold around there. There was no one that made her heart flutter and her belly clench, whose eyes would gleam with mischief and whose voice alone was a turn-on. There was no one who could make her come with a few sweeps of his fingers, whose tongue should have been made illegal, who smelled like wood and spice and musk and whose hair would brush her cheeks while he fucked her.

“Miss French?”

Lacey started, blushing. Her professor, Dr Heller, was waiting patiently, and she racked her brains trying to think of what he had asked her while she had been lost in her memories.

“Sorry?” she said apologetically, and he sighed.

“Your paper,” he repeated, and Lacey pulled a face.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I had a bad night last night. Can I get it to you after lunch?”

Dr Heller rolled his eyes, looking pained.

“Very well,” he said levelly. “You can get it to me by the end of the day, but I expect nothing but the best, understand?”

She nodded, grateful both for the second chance and for the distraction that the work would give her. If nothing else, Gold turning out to be an utter prick would probably be good for her grades. Study was just what she needed to get the bastard out of her head.

Unfortunately, while study proved to be an excellent distraction when Lacey was up and dressed, every time she lay down to sleep she found herself running over the entire encounter in her head and wondering why she hadn’t picked up on his apparent disdain for her. She was usually adept at spotting arseholes; admittedly it never stopped her sleeping with them, but she could tell what they were and that they weren’t worth anything more than a one-nighter. Gold hadn’t been like that. He’d acted as though he actually liked her, trashy little dress and all. It was making her doubt her ability to read people.

Lacey sat at the bar of the Rabbit Hole, staring into the glass of whisky she had been nursing. She had managed to get through the past ten days by trying her best not to think about Gold, and by avoiding Neal and Emma. It had meant pretending to be out when they had knocked on her door on Friday night, but she wasn’t in the mood to socialise, and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to discuss what had happened with Neal’s dad. It was now Saturday, and she had come to the bar with the intention of getting well and truly hammered, but her stomach was acidic, no doubt from the stress, and when the whisky had been set in front of her, she decided that she would stick with one.

“Rough day?”

Keith Nott, the bartender, sent her what he no doubt thought was a disarming smile, and Lacey curled her lip. He was good-looking, and she’d slept with him once, when she’d been a little drunk and he’d been partly responsible for her inebriation. It had been unremarkable. Every guy was fucking unremarkable, if she was honest. Every guy but Gold, anyway. Fucking bastard with his stupid sexual prowess and his magic fingers!

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crappy,” she said, shoving the thoughts from her head, and took a sip of her whisky.

“Trouble with a guy?”

“No,” she lied.

“A girl, then? You know, if you want to tell me about your love life, I’m all ears.”

He was grinning at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Piss off, Keith.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Lace,” he wheedled. “Look, you want another? On the house.”

“I still have this one, asshole,” she pointed out. “And I’m going home when I’m done.”

“Wait until I get off and I’ll walk you,” he suggested, and she pulled a face.

“No thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Come on!” He looked put-upon. “It was a good time, right?”

“For you, maybe.” She took another sip of her drink. “I kind of levelled up on my standards for one-night stands recently. Call me when you can make me come three ways without taking off your pants. Otherwise you can fuck off.”

Keith scowled. “Don’t be a bitch, I was only being friendly.”

“Uh-huh.” She tried to ignore him, but it was difficult when he was standing there glowering at her.

“Hey, what’s up?” Emma slid onto a stool beside her, and Lacey was grateful for the distraction. Emma jerked her head at Keith. “He bothering you again?”

“I offered her a drink on the house,” said Keith, with a sulky expression. “She fucking bit my head off. How about I get you one instead?”

“Really not looking for a side of sleaze with my drink,” remarked Emma. “I’ll take a beer, but I’m paying.”

He curled his lip, then gave her a sly grin. “I.D?”

Emma leaned on the bar with an expression of disbelief.

“Come on, man! I’ve been coming here for months!” she objected.

“I.D.” he repeated.

“Forget it,” said Lacey, pushing away her drink. “Wanna go get a coffee, or something? This place reeks of testosterone and desperation.”

“Sure.”

Emma jumped off the stool with a toss of her blonde hair, and she and Lacey made their way outside, ignoring Keith’s shouted insult about them both being sluts. Lacey folded her arms as they walked, wishing she’d brought a jacket. The night air was cold.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Emma, her tone careful. “You okay?”

“Great!”

Her voice sounded overly bright, and she winced. Emma gave her a sidelong look.

“Been studying pretty hard,” Lacey confessed. “Trying to get my GPA up this year. I’ve been screwing around for too long.”

“Yeah, college is pretty full-on at the moment,” agreed Emma. “I have to hit the books pretty hard if I want to get some decent grades this year.”

“Same,” grumbled Lacey. “God, I can’t wait until after finals! I’m gonna get so drunk I fall over and sleep through summer.”

Emma snickered.

“Miss the summer? No thanks.”

“Maybe just a long weekend then,” Lacey amended. “Not like I have plans to go anywhere. I might just take some summer classes.”

Emma winced. “Seriously?”

“It’s either that or I spend like ten weeks watching my father drink too much and yell at Fox News,” said Lacey dryly. “Really looking forward to that, let me tell you.”

Emma chuckled.

“Did I tell you Neal’s taking me home with him for a couple of weeks in the summer?” she asked.

“Home?” asked Lacey. “Like - to Maine?”

“Yeah, the place is called Storybrooke.” Emma kicked at a loose stone on the path, sending it bouncing. “He says it’s pretty dull, but I guess it’ll be nice to see where he came from, you know?”

“Storybrooke, huh?” Lacey pursed her lips. “Cute name. You’ll probably have a better summer than me.”

Emma nudged her playfully.

“Want me to tell Neal’s dad you said hi?” she asked, grinning, and Lacey pulled a face.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think he’d be interested,” she said dryly, and Emma looked puzzled.

“I thought you two seemed to get on pretty well,” she said. “What gives?”

“Nothing,” Lacey sighed. “But you know how I am. Bang ‘em and move on, right? Guys are all the same.”

“I heard you two,” Emma reminded her. “Sounded kind of different from where Neal and I were, believe me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like it was ever gonna be anything serious,” said Lacey, feeling uncomfortable. “For me or for him.”

“How did you guys leave things?” asked Emma tentatively, and Lacey turned to walk backwards, scrunching her nose.

“Can we not talk about this?” she asked. “Honestly, I’m trying to forget the whole thing ever happened.”

“Oh. Sure, no problem.”

Lacey nodded, falling back into step again, and there was silence as they reached the coffee shop.

“Think I’m getting a large one,” she said then. “That Psych paper won’t write itself, the bastard.”

Emma chuckled, pushing open the door, and they stepped inside the warm, fragrant space, shutting out the cold night air.

Gold hadn’t taken Lacey’s number, and hadn’t felt comfortable asking Neal to get it for him, and so he spent every spare moment of the three weeks since their night together thinking about her and then telling himself to get a grip. He had no idea why she had run out on him first thing after they had shared a thoroughly enjoyable night, but her having alluded to their relative ages gave him some clue. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about their time together, and he would have liked to see her again, so he resolved to visit Neal the next time he was passing through. Perhaps she had changed her mind. Perhaps she thought about him, too.

It was a mild evening when he pulled the car into the university parking lot and made the long trek to the dorm buildings. He stopped at the bottom of the flight of stairs up to the floor on which Neal’s apartment was housed, and sighed heavily. The elevator was still out, then. Telling himself it was good for his legs, he made his way awkwardly upwards, and rapped on Neal’s apartment door. He couldn’t help casting a glance at Lacey’s door, but there was silence from within.

“Hey!” Neal opened the door, pulling him into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I have business in New York,” said Gold, looking him over and smiling. “I thought I’d stop by on my way, buy you dinner, if you like.”

“Cool. Emma was coming over, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Gold looked around. “Um - should I ask Lacey, do you think?”

“You need my permission?” asked Neal wryly. “How old are you, Pops? Just go knock on her door, and don’t be such a wuss.”

Gold gave him a level look, but accepted that he had a point. He stepped out into the corridor for a moment, raising a hand, and hesitated only briefly before rapping on the door with his knuckles. There was silence. He knocked again, trying to ignore the heavy feeling of disappointment.

“Guess she’s out,” said Neal. “She’s been kind of hitting the books lately. Not even been going out that much.”

“Oh.” Gold’s fingers drummed on the handle of his cane. “Has she - talked about me at all?”

“Dad…” Neal covered his face with his hands, and Gold sighed.

“Forget it. Look, would you tell her I stopped by? If she wanted to call…”

His voice trailed off, and Neal groaned, peeking from between his fingers.

“Fine, I’ll give her your number. You want me to pass her a note in class or something?”

Gold frowned at him. “Hilarious.”

Neal gestured to his dorm room.

“Look, would you just get your ass in here and stop making an idiot of yourself?” he demanded. “She’s not there. You want a drink of something?”

Gold sighed inwardly, cursing himself for a besotted fool. She had made her feelings quite clear, it seemed. He turned on his heel, following Neal back inside, and shut the door behind him.

In the room next door, Lacey closed the book she held with hands that shook a little, glaring at the door. So, he thought he could just turn up and bang the ‘piece of trash’ whenever he was in town, did he? Well, he could go fuck himself! She was busy, anyhow. She opened her book again, knowing that she would be thinking of him when she closed her eyes that night, and furious with herself over it.

It was another three weeks before she realised that she had no choice: she would have to see him again.

She remembered that Neal’s hometown was called Storybrooke, and as luck would have it she could get a bus there, so she ended up skipping class on a Friday and studying for Monday’s Sociology class on the bus, the sunshine warm on her skin. She was nervous, her belly so tight with anxiety she felt nauseous, and so she tried to distract herself by reading her textbook and making notes.

It was just after two by the time she reached the town, and she looked out of the window with interest at the quaint little houses, perfect with their rose gardens and picket fences. It was hard to imagine Neal growing up here, and harder still to imagine Gold living here. Of course, she herself was so used to cities that she thought she’d go mad if she had to spend too long in a place that didn’t appear to have a cinema or any fast food restaurants. There was a diner, and a number of small stores, but little else.

The bus pulled to a stop, and she gathered her things, shoving the bulky textbook in her bag and stepping off, sunglasses shielding her eyes from the glare as she looked around. She had searched for Gold’s business online, noting that he was a landlord as well as an attorney, and it was a matter of minutes before she found his office, tucked onto the main street next an artisan bakery. She hesitated outside, her hand on the door handle, but then squared her jaw and pushed down, opening the door and walking inside.

There was a reception desk and comfortable-looking leather chairs beside a small table. A handwritten note tented on the desk said Back in 15 minutes! followed by a smiley face. Lacey highly doubted that Gold ever wrote smiley faces on anything other than eviction notices, and therefore assumed that he had a receptionist.

She drummed her fingers on the desk, looking around. A door was off to the left, and so she lifted her chin, stomping around the desk and pushing it open. A well-lit corridor housed three other doors, and she eyed the one at the end, frosted glass hiding what was within. She could almost feel his presence flowing out of it to wrap around her, and she clenched and unclenched her hands, chewing her lip, her nerves rising.

Fuck it, she thought, and took a deep breath, striding down the corridor and pushing open the door without knocking.

Gold looked up from behind a large desk of polished walnut, an expression of surprise on his face, and her belly clenched. He had cut his hair. It was short: silvery strands just brushing the tips of his ears and the nape of his neck. It made his face look a little fuller, his skin a little warmer above the midnight blue silk shirt, and she licked her lips. Why did he have to look so fucking good!

“Lacey,” he said, and a genuine smile spread across his face, his gold tooth glinting. He pushed himself to his feet, long fingers tightening on the handle of his cane.

“Hey,” she said, the word seeming to stick in her throat.

He was looking her over hungrily, and it made her want to go to him, to kiss him. To have him take her over that big-ass desk of his. She wondered if he was thinking it too, and shoved the thought away.

“You - er - you cut your hair,” she said, and could have kicked herself. Why the hell did it matter?

“Yes,” he said, and glanced away for a moment. “What - what are you doing here?”

“I took the bus,” she said. “Emma told me where you lived, and I don’t have class, so I thought - I thought it was probably a good opportunity to - well…”

She cut off, unsure how to continue, and he waited patiently for a long moment, but her throat had closed up. Gold rounded the edge of his desk, taking a step towards her before folding his hands over the handle of his cane.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me,” he said, his voice soft. “I left you a message, the last time I was in Boston, but you never called back. You were out, I understand.”

Lacey raised her chin.

“No, I was in,” she said. “I got the message. And no, I didn’t want to see you.”

His jaw worked a little.

“I see,” he said quietly. “So what’s changed?”

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, her heart racing.

“Nothing,” she muttered, turning away. “Nothing. This was a mistake.”

She took a step towards the door, wanting to cry, and furious with herself because of it.

“Lacey.”

His voice made her pause, and she heard him move, the tread of his shoes and the tap of his cane, and then the warmth of his hand on her arm.

“What is it?” he pressed. “I don’t believe you rode the bus for four hours just to walk out on me again.”

His words riled her. She walk out? She spun to face him, glaring.

“Walk out on you again?” she snapped. “What, you mean after the one night we spent together? After you called me a piece of trash?”

“I - what?” He looked astounded. “I never said that! I never would say that, that’s not what I think!”

“Oh, please!” She curled her lip at him. “I heard you! Calling me your fucking midlife crisis or something…”

“I - I never said that!” he protested.

“...well, fuck you, you arsehole!” she stormed. “I may not be everyone’s idea of a model fucking citizen, but I’m bloody well trying to make a future for myself and then you come along and fucking screw it up!”

Gold stood with his mouth slightly open as she ranted, looking ever more confused.

“Me?” he demanded. “What the hell did I do?”

“I’m pregnant, you dickhead!” she shouted.

#golden lace #rumbelle #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #fic: waiting game #oops #sorry #i mean I'm not but

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malecluckycharm-blog · 7 years

Text

“Come back to me”

Book/ or show: Shadowhunters

Pairing: Alec and Magnus (Malec)

Fanfiction genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Romance, Thriller and Fantasy

Idea from: My brain that secretly wants me to combust from these feelings tbh

Prompt: Alexander Lightwood has been missing for months. No one has heard a word from him ever since Valentine invaded the New York Shadowhunter Institude. There was not one person who wasn’t worried for him but there was one specific downworlder who was petrified and would stop at nothing to find him and bring him back home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tell me where the Mortal Mirror is. Tell me now, Lightwood!”

That was all Alec heard for 6 months straight.

Where is the mirror, Lightwood? Tell me where the mirror is, Lightwood. Who do you think you are, Lightwood?

It hummed in his ears, contantly on repeat like a broken record.

The chains that clammed around his wrists blistered and bits of dried and fresh blood soaked around the wrist restraints. His hair felt like wet straw that stuck together from the amount of times he has been sweating for the past few months.

His crimson shirt stuck to his body as he tried to releave himself from the harsh pain that shot through his legs as he tried to stand up from being on his knees for so long. The funny thing was is that his shirt was blue before he was kidnapped by Valentine.

He almost forgotten how to walk if it wasn’t for the occasional bathroom visits. Apparently, Valentine thought that showers were for the nobles because all he was given was a bucket and a sponge to clean himself off. And of course, Valentine Morgenstern was looking for the Mortal Mirror. He was trying to beat the answer out of him but Alec didn’t have the answer Valentine was looking for. He obviously didn’t care with what question Alec wants to have answered.

That one single question that has been gradually escaping his lips the minute he arrived at this unknown destination.

“What did you do with my family?”

Valentine looked down at him with a single glare.

“Don’t you ever ask something else other than that?”

I could say the same about you, Morgenstern.

Valentine wipped his arm back, swung at Alec’s face and punched him straight in the jaw. Alec grunted at the shooting pain and flicked his head upwards towards his kidnapper to move his hair off from over his eyes.

“I am telling you, I don’t know where the Mortal Mirror is. I don’t even know where to start looking!”

“Quiet!”

Alec forced himself to stay silent. Looks like neither of them were going to have the answer they want.

* * *

The shards of glass that stood out from Magnus’ hand were coated in blood. Magnus was thinking so much about how Valentine was probably destroying the last bit of Alec’s mortal soul by torturing him. He held his whiskey glass and slammed the glass onto his dining room table, causing it to explode only a few minutes ago.

Magnus was certainly convinced that only the Angel Raziel knows why Alec was taken.

He wasn’t able to sleep, eat or even socialise properly ever since Alec was taken by Valentine. He tried everything, from tracking spells to portals to demon summoning to interviewing almost every single one of the shadowhunters in the New York institute but still no sign of Alec.

It was almost as if someone gave him purpose in his immortal life but then it was suddenly taken away from him but to make him suffer. At one point, Clary compared him to a lost boy who was trying to find his mother in a store, but so much worse.

As Magnus pulled the last shard of glass out of his hand, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and it showed Jace’s name.

“Jace?”, Magnus asked as he conjured up a bandage to wrap around his wound. Jace usually never called him but Alec is gone. Jace didn’t have a personal messenger to tell Magnus information anymore.

“Hey Magnus, I just wanted to let you know that we are going to be out on another search. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”, Jace tried to be nice to Magnus on several occastions judging the circumstance they were in.

Alec is Jace’s parabatai and he knew that Alec was still alive. He could feel it in his soul. The string that binds them together was barely holding on, but it was still there.

“You know I haven’t missed a search but I think I’m going to have to cancel this time.”,

Magnus had to stay home. If he had a dollar for every single time he got his hopes up during these searches only to find nothing and have his hopes torn to shreads, he would not be in New York but on his own private jet.

What would a warlock do with a private jet anyway? By the Angel, they had portals!

“Are you sure?”, Jace asked from the other end of the call.

Magnus forced a convincing reassuring tone in his voice.

“Yes, don’t worry about me. Just please, find Alexander”,

“You can count on that”,

And with that last sentence that keeps Magnus’ hope alive, Jace ended the call.

Alec, please. Come back to me.

* * *

I have to get to a stele and portal to another place other than here. Or at least send a fire message to Magnus.

This plan was clearly easier said than done but Alec had to try. He knew that around this time, he was given time to clean himself up. Alec was going to have to think fast as he was losing blood fast. Valentine did feed him a little under what the average person needs to have but Alec knows that’s only to keep him alive.

Valentine opened the metal door that was Alec’s gateway to freedom and closed it behind him. Without a word, he placed the bucket next to Alec and unchained him.

These last few seconds were crucial.

Alec travelled his eyes all around Valentine’s body until he spots a stele peaking out from his back belt pocket. He attempted to stand but both from the pain and performing an act, he fell onto Valentine, which forced him to catch Alec.

He slipped his hand around to Valentine’s back and snatched his stele. Alec eased it into his jacket sleeve and maked sure to keep his arm up a bit to prevent it from falling out and revealing his plan. All in a matter of seconds.

“Oh get up, you’ll get more blood in you. Just wash yourself already, I don’t want to have to keep smelling blood and death everytime I come in here.”

And with that, Valentine slipped Alec’s body harshly onto the cold, blood-stained floor. Alec landed much like a broken ragdoll as he watched Valentine leave. He closed the door with a bang and Alec knew that his plan was arising. Trust Valentine to believe the saying “if you want something done, you have to do the dirty work yourself.”

It took every cell in his body to work together and make himself lift up the stele onto the wall and draw a rune that could bring him home. Or at least where his heart leaded him.

* * *

The last bit of alcohol in Magnus’ new glass ran past his lips and down his throat for what felt like the millionth time.

He kept reminding himself every day to get a good night’s rest to get rid of the bags under his eyes, to eat something healthy and proper, to get clean clothes and to go outside again, but every day always ended up making a plan to do it tomorrow.

Magnus placed the cup onto the floor and finally allowed himself to slam his body onto the couch and rest for what felt like the first time in ages.

Suddenly, a blinding light mixed with deadly winds exploded from outside his front door. He frowned as he looked towards the door wondering who would be bothering him now.

Panic spread throughout his chest when he finally realised that blood was seeping through the bottom crack of the door like a puddle. Magnus’ eyes widened as he bolted for the door feeling both senses of hope and, at the same time, begging for it not to be him.

He yanks the door open to find Alec lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, with his once bright and bold hazel eyes that turned colourless and grey, staring up at him.

“Alec!”

* * *

Hours have passed and Alec still didn’t wake up. Magnus kept a routine during this time.

Checking Alec’s pulse every five minutes, call Isabelle and Jace which only leads to voicemail, magic up another healing spell and potion of some sort, check his pulse again. It was pushing Magnus’ buttons but he knows that every little bit that he can do, helped Alec. And he would do anything for him.

The wounds Alec had reopened once he went through the portal. That’s what caused the pool of blood. Gashes of cuts and bruises made it’s way all around Alec’s torso and arms. There was one bruise that formed on his cheek. It made Magnus bubble with anger when he wrapped bandages around his boyfriend.

Alec’s eyes finally snapped open. He jerked up and coughed violently with Magnus by his side within seconds. He screamed as his coughing wasn’t doing his bruises any good. Magnus let him scream because he wasn’t worried about the neighbours. He put a property silencing spell on the doors, walls and windows just a few hours ago.

Alec’s hazel eyes blinked rapidly as they tried to adjust to the brightness of Magnus’ loft.

“Please Valentine, I can’t help you.”, Alec muttered under his breath, clearly frightened and convinced that the portal he conjured up didn’t work.

He was broken to the very core.

Magnus’ heart broke just by the sight of his boyfriend huddled up in a ball on the couch, frightened and petrified about anyone or anything going near him.

I am going to kill Valentine for touching him. I will find him and make him pay for hurting him. Even if it kills me.

“It’s ok Alexander. You’re home.”

Alec’s head turned toward the sound of the familiar calming voice. The second he saw Magnus, he dived into an embrace. He finally let go off the weight on his back and cried on Magnus’ shoulder while he held onto his boyfriend for dear life. Alec’s gashes hurt like hell but he didn’t care at this point.

“By the Angel, Magnus. I thought you were all taken. I didn’t know if you got out safely or if you were hurt. Not knowing if you were alive or dead, I was terrified.”

“I knew you were alive, I knew it. I never stopped giving up, Alexander.”,

Alec held on tighter.

“Never leave me again, Alec. Do you hear me? I’ll kill anyone who touches you”

Magnus’ painted nails dug deeper into Alec’s new and clean shirt.

“I’ll never leave you, Magnus. Never again.”

#malec #come back to me #shadowhunters #alec #magnus

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thepurpleyogacat-blog · 7 years

Text

A lack of spoons, and an update.

A lot of the posts on this blog are useful, advice, this is what I’ve learnt type posts, but I feel it’s time for a bit of reality. Things aren’t always as perfect as they seem online.

I'm very aware that I haven’t written in quite a while. Coming up a month and a half. I feel like I should apologise for that, but at the same time, I have no reason to apologise for my mental health, or for taking time out to look after my brain. This is my blog, and if I don’t have the words to write, I’m not going to force myself or pressure myself into it. It’s not my job. It’s my outlet.

So after going for lunch with one of my closest and oldest friends, sitting at the table in an empty bar, physically shaking about the concept, after going for a drink with a schoolfriend and being as close to rock bottom as I have ever been, I realised I couldn’t keep going like this. The fact I had worried even her, who knows me better than anyone, showed that things were not okay.

So I am MADD. No. I AM not. I HAVE MADD. It is not me, it is something I have. In the same way that I have hands, but I am not hands. Moderate Anxiety and Depression Disorder.

A diagnosis. 8 years, and a diagnosis. I asked for it, I asked to be told what was going on. I wanted a “why.” It’s like having a cast on your leg, being given crutches, but never actually being told the words “your leg is broken.” I’ve spent so long thinking “What is wrong with me? This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous.” and I wanted to be able to rationalise it, to justify it as far as you can with anxiety, to be able to tell myself “You’re not being ridiculous. There IS something wrong with the way your brain works.” So I pushed for the words to be said to me. It’s not a label, and it doesn’t change anything. It just gives me the words to describe what my brain is like.

I lost myself. I spent a week, mentally not there. It’s called depersonalisation and derealisation. I went on a long walk I don’t remember. The only way I can describe it, is when you’re really drunk, and you look in a mirror and you can’t quite make the connection with the “you” in the mirror. Only there is no mirror. I didn’t open my blinds for almost a month. I dragged myself out of bed at 4:30pm the other day, got dressed, and went to work. Sat in the car outside work with a heart rate of 118bpm, having to psyche myself up to go through the doors. Panicking about the possibility of pouring the wrong drink, making the wrong coffee. Being so useless at my job that I may as well quit. I’m a barmaid. It’s not stressful. I have friends who work in medicine, in sciences. They have stressful jobs! Making a coffee wrong is NOT a serious mistake. But to my brain, it is. It’s a “you can’t even do that right. A simple task. Why do you even bother, you’re never going to be good enough and you’re never going to get anywhere.”

I’ve started using the spoon theory. It was originally used with Lupus, but the main gist is that you start each day with a number of spoons. Each task uses those spoons, the more physically and mentally demanding the task, the more spoons it will use. Sleep doesn’t always restore them, you can have a great nights sleep and wake up with no spoons. You don’t know how many spoons you’re going to have. I find my spoons sometimes are restorable by an evening of candlelight and fairy lights and a meditation playlist. A night curled up with my cat, gently purring. A night of softness and gentleness, a reminder to be gentle with myself. I find myself spoonless if I’ve overdone things, spent too much time socialising. I limit myself. It’s exhausting. The constant overthinking and overanalysing and overdrive and over everything. It’s exhausting.

Tonight, I pulled myself out of an anxiety attack. I felt it coming on. Over something ridiculous. I was out dancing with my lovely friends, and I was offered a drink. The drink that arrived wasn’t quite right, and so this the thoughts went a little like this. “You can’t drink this. You’ll be sick.” “If you don’t drink it, your friend will think you’re so rude. How selfish of you. Drink it. Deal with it. If you don’t drink it he’ll never offer you a drink again and why would he? Why would he want to spend time with someone so rude? You’re never going to be invited out again. Why would anyone want to be friends with someone who won’t even accept the drink they’ve been bought. I wouldn’t blame them” “Tell your other friend. She’ll understand. She can smooth it over and it’ll be okay.” “No. She’s enjoying herself. Don’t ruin her night. How selfish. Attention seeking. Grow up and deal with it. Drink the god damn drink” “What are you even getting frustrated about. This is so stupid. It’s ridiculous. If you mention how worked up you are over something so daft, you’ll just get laughed at.

I was getting shakier and shakier. I couldn’t breathe. I was hot and clammy and shaky. I got a glass of water and went to stand outside.

“Cheer up love. Smile!”

I don’t remember what I said back. But I pulled myself out of it, calmed myself down. Breathing. Counting. I noticed the signs my body was giving me, and I listened. I was gentle with myself.

I am SO lucky to have such lovely friends who understand and support me through times like this. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve them. Friends who understand when I can’t confirm plans until I know how I feel on the day. Friends who constantly reassure me that I’m doing okay. That they’re here. That don’t let me push them away no matter how high I build my walls. Wonderful, incredible people with the most amazing hearts that they’ve opened to me.

#mhaw17 #mentalhealth #anxiety #depression #disorder #recovery #fluoxetine #friendship #support #spoons #life #real #update #breathe #calm #relaxation #hearts #smile #fighting

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secretshinigami · 7 years

Text

The Rising Tennis Ball

Author: @silvia-aivlis

For: @tzigi

Pairings/Characters: mainly Light, a little of the To-Oh people (Kyoko and the tennis guy who doesn’t have a name)… pairings same as canon and are not the focus at all, anyway.

Rating/Warnings: General Audiences

Prompt: Light’s first day at To-Oh after L’s death

Author’s notes: … No one is going to ask, but I made up the family names of Kyoko and tennis boy. Apart from that, I don’t really have anything to say about the fic except what would inevitably involve spoilers, so… have a nice day. And happy birthday, Light.

The young woman’s silhouette was unfamiliar. Her hair was brown like his, but longer, covering her shoulders.

She turned and the first thing that caught his attention was her blue eyes, which reminded him of Misa wearing contacts. Was she wearing contacts?

He definitely had not met her before.

Why was she holding a white candle with one hand? Was it night already?

The young woman raised her other hand and he turned to see where she was pointing at.

Yes, it was night. He could see the moon now. A full moon.

His attention returned to the young woman when she suddenly spoke.

‘The brightest star in the sky.’

She did not say anything more. She gazed afar, unmoving as a statue.

His eyes were drawn to her burning candle again. Only that beneath the flame was not wax.

The candle was made up of white sugar cubes.

But that was…

Suddenly anxious, he confirmed that there was no handcuff surrounding his wrist. Now he only had to affirm…

He looked around but there was nothing to be seen.

His eyes wandered to the sky again.

Its king, the luminous floating globe reigning over the realm of blackness, had two dark curves on it. They were all the more glaring because of their stark contrast with bright moonlight…

But what he had thought was the moon, was not.

It was a tennis ball, and the dark curves were the oval on it.

Someone had shot a tennis ball up to the sky and it hanged there, not rising or falling.

Just glowing.

The classroom door opened and Light Yagami woke up.

Mentally, for a few futile moments, he latched onto the image of sugar cube candles and lunar tennis balls, but the memory slipped away like water in a funnel.

And he did not have the time to recall his dream. The incomers instantly recognised and engaged him.

‘Light! You haven’t been in To-Oh for almost half a year, we thought you’ve dropped out!’

‘Are you OK? Not having an accident, I hope?’

‘Where have you been?’

Brashness never changes, does it? ‘You’re the same as ever—never beat around the bush!’ Light replied with a smile, and even added a friendly chuckle. ‘I was just too busy so I took a leave. I’m still doing less courseload until next April.’

‘What?’

‘I could only take two classes now since I didn’t pass any first semester courses. Plus it’s already the middle of the second one.’

‘Oh crap, so you need to retake?’

‘Wish me luck.’

More students had entered the classroom, as did the professor, meaning that Light had successfully evaded the question of ‘where he had been’ before the start of lesson. He wouldn’t tell them the truth anyway—‘L suspected me of being Kira so I was confined and monitored. Actually being Kira, I killed him.’ It would be impolite to cause a scene in the classroom, really.

The sequence recurred after the lecture. This time, someone remembered seeing him and Misa together the last time he was in campus.

The celebrity loving type, I see.

‘Haha, right, I know her. She’s shooting for a movie, I think.’

‘What movie?’

So easy.

Light had no more lesson today, his only other course not having any lecture until the day after tomorrow. But he still lingered in To-Oh.

He had not had the pleasure of being truly alone for a very long time. Even now, he could not shake off the feeling that he was still being watched.

Instinctively, he looked at his wrist to check that there was no handcuff attached. There was no Ryuzaki. Not anymore.

Turning a corner, he glanced around to confirm that there was also no Misa, no shinigami, and no policemen dangling near him.

He might enjoy school a bit more this time, he thought with amusement. It could be a relaxing experience.

There was a buzz in his pocket. Light pulled out his mobile while passing through a particularly crowded shortcut, and his good mood evaporated upon seeing yet another three text messages from Misa.

‘(⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) MISS YOU already.’

‘Misa in her costume. You’re the first to see (❤ω❤) it!’

‘Misa will cook dinner for you tonight! What do you want to eat?’

Light rolled his eyes before replying only to the last message (with the most polite and charming version of ‘whatever, I don’t care’ he could think of). Remind him why he was enduring this again?

For his new world, naturally.

His grip on the phone tightened. He suddenly felt not just alone, but disconnected, in a corridor packed with ordinary, happy-go-lucky college students.

It’s getting dark and he should go back. He has come so far but still has a lot to do; it could take a long time, maybe even years, for his new world to supplant the old, for crime to be cleansed and justice to be upheld. Tomorrow he would once again continue his ascendance from the number one detective in the world to godhood. Here’s an idea. Later this week he’ll propose to the task force a new way to ‘tab Kira’s movement’—

‘Yagami!’

‘Yagami-kun!’

‘Did we shock you? Oh my gosh so sorry!’

‘I just heard you’re back and I’m sooo glad we found you!’

‘Do you remember us?’

‘I hope you’re not sick!’

‘… Excuse me?’ His shock at being suddenly approached gradually ebbed, and he cursed himself for not noticing the intruders sooner. A headache was also threatening to happen. How could just two people create the sound effect of twenty?

Luckily, the two nuisances finally quieted down a little. ‘Do you really not remember us?’ The female asked. ‘I’m Kyoko. Kyoko Yamaguchi.’

‘Inoue. Yasunaga-senpai and I asked you to join the tennis club back in April, remember?’

‘Dear me. You’re not asking me to join the tennis club now?’

‘I am. Why not? I heard you’re doing just two courses this semester, so you must be free!’

‘…’

‘Look! We’ve been flattened in the inter-school matches this year. You’ve got to help us out!’

‘Sorry but…’

Light tried to explain he would not join the tennis club no matter what, but he stepped on his own toes remembering that he should not give too specific details regarding his ‘absence’ in case whatever excuse he gave did not hold up to future events.

He could not tell them he was busy playing the role of L while plotting Kira’s conquest, could he?

He helplessly watched himself being dragged to the tennis courts. If he would not join the club, Inoue insisted, could he please, please, please take a look at the club’s practice session and give some advice?

With little interest, Light strolled from one court to another, watching how the handful of To-Oh Tennis Club members incompetently flapped their rackets like clumsy walruses. It was incredible how the tennis club of Japan’s number one university could be this bad—too much motion in the take back, weak overhead, couldn’t even serve properly…

No wonder they had so wanted him and Ryuzaki—or ‘Hideki Ryuga’—to join.

‘I still remember the day you played against Ryuga-kun.’ Kyoko suddenly spoke. She was not in the tennis club either, and had been walking by Light’s side all the while. ‘It was a spectacular match!’

Well, what a topic. Tread carefully. ‘I remember you liking Ryuga a lot. You’re the one who insisted that he’s better looking than me, right?’ Light teased. ‘Is Inoue better looking than Ryuzaki now? I didn’t remember seeing you two together at all before. Are you now dating?’

‘No! Well, Inoue isn’t bad looking but—oh, never mind that!’ Kyoko waved her hand profusely, blushing. ‘Talk about something else! Well…’ she sobered up a little, ‘I just wanted to ask, do you know where Ryuga-kun has gone to? He took leave before you, but now even you’re back and he’s still nowhere to be seen… You’re the only one he really socialised with back then. Do you know him outside To-Oh?’

This he had an answer prepared. ‘Unfortunately no. But fortunately no, otherwise my sister would pester me forever for his autograph. She’s very into idols.’

‘What—Yagami-kun! This joke is so old! People only joke about him and the singer back in the first two months!’

‘Sorry.’ He chuckled without the slightest embarrassment. The part about Sayu might be unnecessary, but it fitted the atmosphere he wanted to create. He couldn’t let on what he knew about the fate of ‘Hideki Ryuga’ and this lie was less likely to get out, anyway. ‘But has Ryuga really not come back? Not even once? That guy is strange.’

Kyoko sighed dramatically. ‘I miss him. He has such a wild look with him… What if… what if… if he’s been killed by Kira?’

Light halted as if he had been turned to stone. ‘Excuse me?’ He kept his face straight and voice calm, so that no one could realise how his throat dried and his pulse raced at the simple sentence. She couldn’t have known, his brain worked frantically to reassure, she couldn’t have known.

Kyoko did not find it strange at all that they had stopped in the middle between two tennis courts. With a dreamy look, she continued, ‘don’t you think he might be a criminal with his looks? Maybe he’s the young successor of a crime syndicate and is secretly in charge of all Kanto yakuzas! Maybe his cronies have been downed by Kira one by one and he’s now busy leading some secret mission against Kira… and that’s why he doesn’t have time for college! Maybe… Yagami-kun?’

Kyoko looked at Light in confusion. He had been perfectly composed a moment ago, wearing only a faint smile on his handsome, but he was now trembling all over, one hand covering his mouth to suppress a violent fit of laughter.

He eventually calmed down and assumed an apologetic expression. ‘Sorry, I just found your idea very funny. I didn’t know you have such excellent sense of humour!’ These were exactly the right words to please Kyoko, and her startled look broke into a shy giggle.

Light did not even lie. He did find Kyoko’s fantasy very funny, though for a different reason than what Kyoko imagined—for a reason she could never imagine.

An idea came to him. ‘If a crime lord—doesn’t have to be Ryuga, you know—just, if someone like that really is fighting Kira, who’re you going to cheer for? The crime lord, or Kira?’

‘Mm?’ Kyoko blinked, looking like she had never considered the question at all (which was probably true). ‘Mm…’ She thought hard for some time, and her voice was hesitant when it finally spoke. ‘I wouldn’t want Ryuga to die because he’s someone I know… But if that’s not Ryuga but someone else… Mm… mm… a crime lord is someone who breaks the law… But Kira breaks the law too? Well… then… no wait.’ Kyoko stopped in the middle. A wave of lucidity finally hit her. ‘This is a trick question, right? Your dad works for the police and will catch both, right? I won’t be correct whichever I choose!’

One of Light’s eyebrows had a sudden urge to jump up, but was suppressed by its master, who reacted quickly and appropriately. ‘Haha! My cover is blown!’ Well, he really does have a lot to do… Light chuckled along amiably on the outside, but inwardly he was once again reminded of his desire to leave. ‘It’s getting late. I should find Inoue and then leave—’

‘Watch out!’ A male voice from one of the tennis courts shouted.

They turned to the voice’s direction and were just in time to see a tennis ball flying their way. But it was no threat to any of them, because the ball was so high. Light and Kyoko raised their heads to watch the ball shoot over them, hit one of the lampposts with a metallic sound, fell and bounced on the ground a few times before completely losing its energy.

Light spent a few more seconds to gaze at the sky again. When the tennis ball flew so near the white bulb on the pole—did that remind him of something?

Before he could answer, a player Light did now know ran to retrieve the ball while Inoue reappeared to whine. ‘You see, Yagami? That’s how bad we are. You really need to help us.’

Light sighed and ended his musing. It was unproductive, anyway. ‘Well, you’ve got approximately three thousand problems to solve, but let’s focus on the basic first, shall we…’

When Light finally managed to shake off Inoue, the entire tennis club assembled to discuss their future training plan. They did not turn off the tennis ball machine, from which one ball flew off after another, each following the same parabola, rising and then inevitably falling in an identical semi-circular motion.

The night had totally set in. At this hour, the November wind was a bit chilly. One could see the half moon dangling in the sky, but apart from that, stars were particularly hard to see in urban Tokyo.

END

#fanfiction #submission #Light Yagami #ratings: general #silvia-aivlis #tzigi #Kyoko #pairings: none #Light's Birthday Extravaganza 2017

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