#public apology to my friends who dealt with. these texts. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

books-and-catears · 3 years

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Hey! I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do the Brothers (+now datables if you can) reacting to a teen!MC that's like a sibling to them being bothered by someone over text? I'm 14 and recently there's been this guy that won't stop texting me, asking me to be his girlfriend and asking for...other things. Anyways, it's getting annoying and I tried blocking him but he made other accounts, so I just told my parents. It's alright if you don't do this, thanks anyways! Have a great day!

Oh my god. That boy needs to be reported ASAP. I'm glad you told your parents, little one. Hope they took action and you're safe. These sort of people are just ugh. Hope he isn't bothering you anymore?

And don't worry, the demo brothers would definitely protect you and take drastic measures against him.

The Demon brothers protecting Teen!MC

You were sitting in the living room with everybody else. Lucifer was near the fireplace doing some left over paperwork. Mammon and Asmo were arguing about who looked better in the magazine covers. Levi was enthusiastically telling Satan why light novels based on anime can also classify as literature. Beel was happily munching some new treats Luke had made while Belphie snoozed in his lap.

Diavolo and Simeon were listening to Solomon's adventures in the human world. Barbatos and Luke were talking about recipe.

You were smiling to yourself at the calm chaos around you as you surfed the internet when that brat messaged you again. "UGH LEAVE ME ALONE!" you groaned in annoyance as you deleted the messages and blocked the sender. The brothers all looked at you in suprise and worry.

"Is something the matter, MC?"

Sighing, you tell them your situation. And then chaos ensues.

Lucifer

The audacity of that ill-mannered little trout. He'll surely have to discipline him.

"Give me his number MC."

"Are you going to call and threaten him?"

"No I just need to track his location and pay him a visit. In my true form."

Legit pin drop silence from that end now. Like he never even existed.

Count on Lucifer to scare him off existence in general.

Mammon

Who dare keep annoying his human like that-

"Oi MC show me his face!"

"What are you planning?"

"I'm going to make sure he has nothing bad luck for the whole week."

From losing his wallet twice, dropping his phone on his face and then getting constantly attacked by crows at random points of the day, you were convinced he'd learnt his lesson.

Noone messes with you under Mammon's care anymore.

Leviathan

Noone treats his best friend like that without dire consequences.

"Give me his account names."

"Are you going to hack them?"

"Oh hacking is most harmless thing on my mind. What follows is going to be so much more fun. Just you wait MC."

Next thing you know, the annoying guy is a meme now. All the texts and everything were outed on his on account as he did them himself and was proud of it.

Levi's skills of internet audience management are no less than Asmo's.

Satan

Someone surely has the nerve to harass a human who's looked over by the Avatar of Wrath himself? This will be fun.

"How would you like me to torture him, MC?"

"Um..."

"Don't worry it will only be a nightmare. His worst one yet."

Oh Satan was very true to his word. He's now your guardian demon of sorts. Anyone who messes with you has deadly nightmares.

You got a hundred scared apology texts before his account vanished off the grid.

Asmodeus

Oh he's dealt with this so many times. Leave this to Asmo, honey.

"He's on social media right?"

"Yeah but what are you going to do?"

"Call him out of course. Nothing is more horrifying public shaming."

Your messages are flooded with comforting messages while that brat gets his accounts suspended for harassment.

Asmo is the master of social life, you're well protected from brats online.

Beelzebub

Isn't MC only 14? They are too young and they shouldn't be dealing with this.

"I'm going to eat him."

"Um, Beel-"

"Fine I'll just eat his phone then. And a bunch of other stuff."

This became a huge urban legend in the human world where if you harass a minor a deathly wild animal will come hunting for you.

Of course Beel doesn't know that, he's just happy you're safe.

Belphegor

Why can't humans just sleep instead of doing disgsuting stuff like this? See this is exactly he wanted to doom humanity. Well now atleast he can doom one problematic human.

"Beel let's go."

"You both are going together?"

"Two demons are better than one."

Yeah so the legend says the sleep paralysis demon doesn't just stand at the corner of your bed anymore.

Do tell him the next time another brat like this tries to annoy you. He'll happily take care of it.

Solomon

Ah these kind of humans ruin the reputation for the rest of us. So pathetic.

"I have a simple solution for this."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"No really all I'm going to do is curse his phone."

Yeah his cursed his phone alright. And every other phone he ever came to possess. Any text with bad intentions would turn into silly memes or unreadable typos.

Aw isn't Solomon a sweetheart?

Simeon and Luke

Sigh. See this is why y'all can't make it up to the Celestial realm.

"He needs a divine intervention."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

He became one of those jokes on the internet where the people send wrong things to the wrong people. Whatever he was texting you went to his family group chat. All of it.

Simeon is pretty sneaky for someone who is bad with technology. Oh wait that was Luke. Still sneaky.

Diavolo and Barbatos

A problematic human, you say? Don't worry we're used to a lots of them.

"Ah just let us know who is he is we'll take care of him."

"You both have eerily big smiles on your faces."

"Nothing we are just going have a fun trip on Earth."

They drag him down to tell to personally apologize to you. In handcuffs, chains and everything. The demon way.

What else were you expecting from the crown Prince of Hell?

#obey me fluff #obey me teen!mc #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me game #obey me imagine #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo.#obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me Luke

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

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asmo-ds · 3 years

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I've had this thought in my head for awhile, but does God know mc is the descent of Lilith?? Lilith was supposed to be killed but was secretly reincarnated by Diavolo. What if he finds out and kills mc because as far as he's concerned, they shouldn't exist? Can I request some hcs of how the demon brothers and undateables would react to this happening? If not, I understand! >.< Thank you!! ❤️❤️

When God kills MC for being Lilith’s descendant

WARNINGS: Blood, death, depression, anger, war, Simeon dies in one of them

- If anyone mentioned MC he’d be gripping them by the throat begging them with tears in his eyes to never speak their name in front of him again

- He doesn’t want them to say it because of his pride. He knows he’ll cry hearing their name and he’d get flashbacks to Michael standing over MC’s bleeding body as they cried Lucifer’s name, hopeful that he’d be able to save them.

- He wasn’t able to save them despite being right there, he was being held back by some angels and was fighting them at that moment, but even after he killed those angels and Michael, he got to their side too late, their eyes empty and skin still warm, but getting colder as the seconds pass.

- He’d scream and cry so loud the entire Devildom would hear, and he wouldn’t care, no matter how much pride he held, he was torn to pieces and felt lost the second their soul left their frail human body

- He and Diavolo immediately agree that God needs to feel the same pain he’d put all the brothers through twice

- They go to the celestial realm and attack a bunch of Archangels

- His anger from losing both his sister and his lover will be terrifying and is enough to bring God to his knees

- “I won’t let you touch anybody else. I won’t let you tear my family apart more than you have!”

- If he does not kill God, he definitely leaves him shaking in his boots,

- He will use all his strength to kill as many Archangels as possible, so his father would feel the same loss he’d felt.

- He’d leave God wounded but make him have to helplessly watch his children and friends die horrid deaths before his very eyes, just like Lucifer had to do with Lilith and MC, still alive, but left empty and helpless.

- His mourning process after the rage would basically be over working himself, bringing his mind to anything but the dear human he’d lost

- Watching his former brothers impale MC’s chest with a sword was not something he was ready to see.

- He hated every second of holding them in their last moments, he thought he wouldn’t have to watch them die in agony like he did when they let Belphie out of the attic

- It happened when he looked away, an angel suddenly appeared in front of MC and immediately had the blade in them

- He blames Lucifer for a while.

- Because of him, everyone found out the truth about Lilith and it got back to God and if Lucifer had just allowed Belphie to stay out of the attic to live with the exchange student like the rest of them they would never have died either of their deaths

- Blames himself a lot as well, he is supposed to be fast. That’s his thing, is being fast. But he wasn’t fast enough to save them from their killer.

- Distracts himself with drinking and gambling his life away

- One night he gets unbearably mad and intoxicated, which leads to him sneaking into the Demon Lord’s castle and using a gate to the celestial realm.

- When he’s there he books it to the throne of his father, begging him to at least tell him if MC was in heaven or hell before he sent him back down there.

- Hearing that they went to neither and God had simply wiped them and their soul from existence was what finally got to him

-He lunged at him but was stopped by Diavolo who had followed him there and apologized to God for letting him through.

- “YOU’VE TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME YOU SON OF A BITCH, YOU DON’T DESERVE TO RULE THIS UNIVERSE, ONE DAY I KNOW LUCIFER WILL RETURN TO BEHEAD YOU IN FRONT OF THE REST OF YOUR PRECIOUS ANGELS”

- His ranting kind of caught everyone off guard but they wouldn’t be able to stare in shock for long as Diavolo dragged him through the gate, bringing him to the dungeon where he would stay until Lucifer could hopefully talk some sense into him

- Why? Why did he have to tell MC to go shopping themselves, why didn’t he just go with them.

- When they used his pact mark a second too late, he arrived to their bloody beaten body, nearly lifeless eyes turning hopeful for their last moment of life as they saw Leviathan

- He turns just in time to see an angel booking it towards a portal, but he is too concerned with saving MC to actually chase their killer.

- He turned back to them and lifted their unconscious body off the Devildom soil, sprinting as fast as possible screaming for help

- When he arrived at the Demon Lord’s castle begging Diavolo to save them he was too late, somewhere along the way their heart had stopped and they died looking up at their yucky otaku boyfriend trying so hard to save them from a hopeless battle with a small smile.

- He locks himself in his room, not even coming out to eat meals.

- When Lucifer finally had enough of Levi starving himself, he opened the door with the master key and found his pale younger brother, in his bed sleeping, but under the blankets he guess Levi had lost too much weight.

- He also took notice of his lack of anime figurines and video games, looking to see them in the trash.

- Levi is quick to get mad at Lucifer but when Lucifer just holds him and pats his younger brother’s hair, he breaks down full on sobbing and snot getting all over Lucifer’s coat, which he cringed at a little but dealt with it for the boy’s sake.

- He wouldn’t go to God like the previous two, he’d just murder anyone who mentioned him or his angels

- He ends up giving away his fish too, convinced that he wasn’t allowed to have loved ones because no matter how hard he tried to save them he never could. First his baby sister and now the love of his life.

- Oh poor Satan, he had worked so so hard to get his temper under control, but watching an angel slit MC’s throat in front of his very eyes erased all the control he had within him and he immediately gutted the angel, within the blink of an eye they were just as dead as MC

- He called Lucifer begging for help, even though they both knew he was much too late and MC had bled out and died quickly.

- He held them until Lucifer and some of the other brothers had to pry his arms off of them.

- After seeing them taken away to be put in a casket and buried in the human world with their family, he filled with rage and grief all at once, from the top of his head all the way to his toes he was radiating wrath and he went on a rampage, killing demons left and right

- He wasn’t able to think clearly until a voice in the back of his head reminded him of the human and how they always helped everyone no matter their species.

- He stopped killing then, not wanting MC’s spirit to be upset with him more than they already should be.

- He, like Lucifer, distracts himself so that he can’t think of MC as much and be hurt by the images that lived in his head forever

- Whenever a book described a character similar to MC he’d tear every page, ripping it to shreds

- He’d lost almost half of his book collection in only a month because he managed to see MC in everything.

- Blames himself and tries to get to the Celestial Realm but is stopped by Diavolo and Lucifer

- After he had been in his room for about a week or so with no sign of even moving from his bed, Lucifer let himself in which pissed of the avatar of wrath

- Lucifer said nothing but looked in his eyes before simply saying the blonds name, before hugging him

- For the first time since he was a young boy, Satan let Lucifer hold him as he wailed and sobbed, venting and letting his eldest brother guide him through it all

- Why did he let MC storm off when he was letting that succubus flirt with him?

- If he had just told to succubus to go away cuz he was with MC they’d still be alive, they wouldn’t have died in such a painful way.

- When he heard a scream he turned around and froze as he saw MC, sword entering their chest and exiting between their shoulder blades

- He panicked and rushed to them, looking the angel responsible in the eyes so he could have him wait for when Asmodeus felt ready to kill him

- When MC gave him a soft smile and touched his cheek with their bloody hand, he held it against his face and cried screaming for help and texting and calling Lucifer like crazy

- When he felt their hand go limp he stopped everything

- He looked down and saw their once lively eyes looking at the sky above them, with no soul behind them, just an empty shell of the only person to ever fall in love with him for reasons other than sex, money, and power.

- He couldn’t look away, he just stared at them in silence, tears rolling down his cheeks as Lucifer and Diavolo arrived, both gasping as they saw Asmodeus covered in MC’s blood.

- Asmodeus dropped his skin care routines, rivaling Belphie’s title as the avatar of sloth as he slept day and night, no longer wanting to be awake with MC

- Why did his father have to take away the one wholesome thing he had? Why was his father so desperate to ruin things for his six surviving sons and Satan

- One day he suddenly jumps back into his old self, smiling and flirting like nothing was wrong, but everyone knew he was still completely broken up inside

- He brings home a new partner every night, each one resembling MC in some way shape or form, because he knows he can’t have them anymore, but he doesn’t want to think about that

- He just wants to embrace his sins and distract himself from any lingering thoughts of MC with strangers

- How could be be so reckless? He knows he shouldn’t leave MC alone in public places but when he saw a hotdog cart he couldn’t help but dash for it with all his speed

- As he was ordering everything the cart had he heard screams behind him

- He looked back and felt his blood run cold as he saw MC’s body on the ground, blood pouring out of their neck and an angel covered in blood flying away

- That angel would get his punishment later, right now he has to tend to MC

- He desperately tries to get them to respond to him, the only response he ever receives is MC’s final gurgled breaths, as they looked at him with terror in their eyes that slowly disappeared as their body shut down, unable to keep going

- and he roared, demon form coming out at he flew off into the sky, chasing the angel that was considerably slower than him

- When he reached them he bit into their shoulder before devouring them completely, making sure they suffered ten times as much as MC had in their final moments

- Without a second thought he flies towards the Demon Lords castle in a rage

- As he knocks down the doors he manages to knock out several guards who were watching the castle diligently as Diavolo and Barbatos had immediately left to go find MC and Beel

- Beel went to the Portals that allowed them to travel between realms, and charged into the Celestial realm, killing multiple angels on his way to God

- He wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Just because he rules over the entire universe doesn’t mean he can take everything away from Beel. He can’t keep losing the most important people in his life, it wasn’t fair

- When he fought his way into God’s throne room, facing him for the first time in several millennia he raged immediately pouncing at his father only to be struck down.

- The fight kept going until Diavolo and Lucifer had arrived to take the giant redhead back to the Devildom, Lucifer nearly killing God himself when he saw how hurt his younger brother was.

- He refuses to eat for a very long time, feeling he deserved to be in pain because he was the reason behind both Lilith and MC’s gruesome deaths

- He only eats when it starts to hurt Belphie a lot as well, but he hates it, he feels unworthy

(Simeon Simps beware)

- He wishes he could unhear it. The sound of MC beside him in bed, screaming as a sword entered their chest, gasping for air but failing to find it.

- Why didn’t he wake up to the intruder? How could he just let an angel deliver MC the same fate they had nearly recieved by himself.

- He didn’t chase after the intruder, instead screaming for his brothers’ help, staying with MC comforting them and trying to urge them to keep breathing.

- “Belphie,” “Mc, save your breath you’ll be okay I promise!” “I’m sleepy, Belphie....I’m.. Gonna nap here with you,”

- He stared at them like they were crazy, but deep down he knew this was their way of having one last happy moment with him. He nodded and held them, avoiding the area where the wound was and crying as he held onto them, feeling the last of their breaths and the life leave their body

- He turned into his demon form. He sees it now

- He shouldn’t have been hating humans, no, they weren’t to blame at all.

- It was the angels, they were the ones who kept taking away his loved ones. They were the ones who needed to pay.

- When everybody had gathered in the room, mourning MC’s departure, Belphie looked up and saw Simeon crying while trying to push Luke away from the bloody scene

- Belphie lunged at Simeon pushing him down before reaching his claws into the Angel’s throat, ripping it out as Luke and the others watched in terror

- Diavolo locked Belphie away for killing the angel and Belphie felt not an ounce of regret.

- Now father will feel the pain of losing someone so special, since he knew Simeon was one of his favorite angels

- Whichever guard allowed an angel to sneak by with a weapon is to be beheaded

- This was supposed to be a nice elegant ball with MC as the prince’s date

- But he turned to face a noble man to talk for a moment when he felt MC grip suddenly tighten harshly on his hand, and when he turned he was mortified to see a knife in their chest and an angel fleeing as quickly as possible

- Diavolo goes on a rampage, chasing the angel before ripping his head off with his bare hands

- He held MC’s body and cried for hours, begging Barbatos to bring them back in time again to save themselves once more from the cruel death they’d been forced to have

- He decided to hell with the Celestial realm, only the humans and Devildom shall be united, God had taken things too far with MC’s death

- He sent troops to the celestial realm and offered the seven demon brothers a second chance at taking down their dad, but with him and his army on their side this time

- When he does eventually rampage his way to god the battle is intense and nearly destroys all three realms, Diavolo was desperate to avenge MC and came very close to killing god with his bare hands

- He had done so much to prevent this. He’d known this future was a possibility so he tried to stop it from becoming the reality he’d lived in

- Where did he mess up? Why was MC’s throat slit right before his eyes?

- His usual poker face or sly smirk was nowhere to be seen as he cried on Diavolo’s shoulder, and Diavolo was happy that Barbatos allowed himself to be vulnerable with him, but saddened to see what had caused it

- Barbatos constantly blames himself, and whenever anyone suggest traveling to an alternate universe where they survived, he’d say no because that wasn’t his MC and he didn’t want to take them away from their version of him

- He never was vulnerable around anyone ever again

- He also nearly scrubbed every inch of the castle into oblivion, trying so hard to distract himself with cleaning, but no amount of chores could keep his mind away from MC

- When Diavolo suggests that they go to war with the Celestial realm, Barbatos is quick to agree.

- “I’m right behind you my lord, I trust you to guide us to victory,”

- When fighting he came face to face with the angel responsible for killing MC and he made his death slow and painful and forced him to watch his friends and family get slaughtered by the Devildom troops

- No no no

- Surely he had a pact with someone who could fix this

- He is panicking and can’t think of a single demon that could heal a wound as big as MC’s

- He’s sobbing and holding them, wailing and mourning the loss of the only other human to understand and love him

- He was angry, but he knew he couldn’t take on God

- He was moved into the house of lamentation because his anger towards the Celestial realm put the exchange angels in danger

- Asmo ends up trying to cheer him up, trying desperately to get his best friend and pact holder back

- He ends up researching spells to revive them, to no avail

- But he never gives up and Asmodeus and Satan remind him that MC wouldn’t want him to be acting this irrational and wouldn’t want to be revived for a second time

- He eventual realizes all that and gives up his search and just lets himself be sad

- Why? Why would he do this.

- He cries, desperate to find reason in God’s action, very focused on keeping his status as an angel and not fall

- But back in the Celestial Realm, Michael brings up MC’s assassination and Simeon loses all composure and tries to kill Michael, angry that he ever trusted him so much

- MC was an innocent human with no control over their lineage, they were happy, they had hope and were going to do great things, so why?

- Why did God kill an innocent human? He does not understand

- As the battle between Simeon and Michael comes to an end, Simeon is pushed out of the Celestial realm

- His wings blackening, horns sprouting from underneath his shattering halo, teeth growing sharp and the aura surrounding him becoming demonic

- He fell from grace

- He lives with the brothers for the rest of eternity, all mourning MC occasionally and making up ideas on how they could finally bring justice to MC and Lilith’s names

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me luficer #obey me hc #obey me hcs #obey me angst hc #obey me headcanons #obey me headcannon #om! headcanons #obey me headcannons #om! headcannon

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt8 / On AO3

Meng Yao's future is dealt with.

To say that Lan Qiren was disappointed in his nephew for helping Nie Huaisang escape into Yunping City would have been an understatement. It was made quite clear to Lan Xichen that he would face punishment of his own for this misbehaviour. Real punishment, too, not just copying texts as had become standards for small infractions. Still, Lan Qiren listened to that tale of a corrupt merchant scamming people with fake manuals, which greatly irritated him, and thus forced sect leader Huang to care as well and deal with it immediately.

It was wrong to think maliciously of anyone without proof, and even more so if the person was an elder. Yet as they all walked toward the market Lan Xichen couldn’t shake the feeling that had he been alone when news of that crooked merchant reached him, Huang Quiling might not have cared enough to do anything about it. After all, he hadn’t asked Lan Xichen for any details about this business, and instead appeared intent on continuing his conversation with Jiang Fengmian about borders and trade.

Lives were on the line, Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s futures depended on this day, and nobody cared.

They didn't care because they couldn't know, of course, but logic wasn't helping Lan Xichen's ever growing anxiety. He only calmed down when they all reached the place where the others were waiting, and found that everyone of any importance was still where he had left them.

While Lan Xichen was gone, things had changed a little in the market. Most of the earlier crowd had dispersed, tired of waiting for more entertainment, and the market street was almost back to normal. Those few curious folks who remained were trying to inconspicuously listen in as Nie Huaisang chatted with, or rather at poor Meng Shi. The unfortunate woman looked deeply uncomfortable, but didn't dare openly disrespect the young master who had confirmed her son's potential for cultivation by walking away.

She couldn't leave yet, anyway, not until she'd gotten her money back for those fake cultivation manuals. From what Lan Xichen could see, Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao were taking care of that, the two of them counting money with that crooked merchant. Here and there Meng Yao would glance at Nie Huaisang, as if something he said attracted his attention, but each time Jiang Cheng brought his attention back to the task at hand.

When Lan Xichen and his elders came close enough to hear, the distress made sense: Nie Huaisang, after all this time, was still discussing the many failings of Jin Guangshan. Lan Xichen wished he were surprised, but there really was that much gossip going around about that man. Most people just didn't usually discuss all of it at once out of respect for a sect leader.

“And then, da-ge said that Jin zongzhu brought in dancers,” Nie Huaisang was saying to a rapt audience, insensitive to the discomfort of Meng Shi next to him. “Da-ge said it was getting embarrassing to watch when Jin Furen arrived, and she made such a scene because apparently her husband had promised to consult her about all the entertainments at the banquet but he brought the dancers without tell her. So then, she… oh, already?”

Nie Huaisang, so cheerful while telling his story, turned a little pale at the sight of Lan Qiren. He looked around for something to hide him from his teacher’s angry glare, and had to settle for slipping behind poor Meng Shi. Lan Xichen refrained from rolling his eyes, and directed his elders' attention where it was actually needed.

“Here is the man,” Lan Xichen announced, motioning toward the merchant. “He has been selling fake cultivation manuals to people.”

“Fake talismans as well,” Jiang Cheng said, lifting a few before crumbling them in his hand. “And he has been doing this for a while. How long, did you say?”

“We started buying from him last year,” Meng Yao explained with a polite bow toward the older cultivators. “But he started coming to the market the year before that, and already offered the same wares. We assumed he had received permission to sell those items, since...”

Meng Yao trailed off, glancing toward sect leader Huang before bowing deeper as if in apology.

Strictly speaking, no sect could be expected to be aware of and to deal with every crook that operated in their territory, so Huang Quiling couldn't be blamed for that situation. At the same time, it would be considered shameful for any sect to have someone selling fakes in its own hometown of all places, and for so long. It spoke of unreliability on their part if people would rather go to a nobody on the market, or else it meant that they priced their services much too high for common people. It also meant they didn't care about commoners, who surely had to have complained about that merchant before. Either way, it wasn't a good look for Huang Quiling, and he would have to act properly to clean this stain on his reputation.

But instead of scolding the merchant or threatening him, Huang Quiling only had eyes for Meng Shi, who was glaring at him defiantly.

“So it's you again,” sect leader Huang muttered. “Meng Shi! Haven’t I told you to stop bothering cultivators?” he turned to the other two sect leaders and gave a small apologetic bow. “I’m sorry that your boys got caught up in this. Meng Shi is just a local whore who’s convinced herself that her bastard has what it takes to be a cultivator. Completely delusional, the boy will never amount to anything. You can't judge that merchant's wares just because the bastard of a whore didn't become an immortal from reading it. I'm unsure the boy can even read.”

Meng Shi, proud as a queen until then, went pale. Lan Xichen felt her shock and horror as if they were his own. He turned to glance at his uncle, worried he might side with Huang Quiling, but to his relief Lan Qiren instead appeared annoyed at the sect leader. It was probably only the coarse language that he disapproved of, and the public nature of this confrontation which he must feel stained all their reputations, yet Lan Xichen felt emboldened anyway.

“Huang zongzhu, have you tested Meng gongzi?” he asked. “We checked on him, and found he has potential.”

“What would mere boys know about these things?” Huang Quiling snapped at him. “Which one of you tested him?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, and glanced at the other boys. He hadn’t come anywhere near Meng Yao yet, and couldn’t lie about that. But if he said it was Nie Huaisang who had checked on Meng Yao, and after his horrible performance at the Night Hunt the day before, it wouldn’t be much of an endorsement. Lan Xichen himself only trusted Nie Huaisang’s assessment because he knew from that other future what sort of cultivation genius Meng Yao was.

“I’m the one who checked on him,” Jiang Cheng boldly lied. Or perhaps he really had checked, dubious as well of Nie Huaisang's assessment, because he continued: “For someone not born from gentry, his potential is not to be dismissed. It might be on par with Yunmeng Jiang's first disciple, if he were just taught properly.”

Huang Quiling, so disdainful a moment before, lost all of his confidence. He glanced at Jiang Fengmian whose face showed no particular expression, except perhaps mild curiosity now that Wei Wuxian had been mentioned. Lan Xichen wasn't sure what to make of that. He hadn’t often been near Jiang Fengmian except at the occasional discussion conference, and of course in the other future they had never gotten to work together as sect leaders. According to gossip, Jiang Fengmian was something of a pushover, who loved quiet and peace more than he cared about justice, but on occasion he could show strength of character if the mood hit him.

"What does his skill matter, with a mother like that?" Huang Quiling claimed, refusing to admit defeat. "No self respecting sect would knowingly take in the son of a whore. It'd be like teaching a pig to walk on two legs, dressing it in silk, and calling it human."

"People ought to be judged on their actions rather than their origins," Lan Xichen retorted, which caused sect leader Huang to glare at him with bulging eyes, his face dark with a rage so strong it robbed him of his words. Even without looking, Lan Xichen knew that his uncle too had to be shocked, that there would be hell to pay for this later. But then, if he was going to be punished, he might as well go all the way. "Just because you don't have the talent to teach someone,” he said, “don't assume a skilled teacher can't do it either."

Huang Quiling looked on the verge of having a Qi deviation, gaping and frothing at the mere boy who dared to insult him so openly. He wasn't the only one to stare, either. Nie Huaisang, the Jiangs, the Mengs, and above all Lan Qiren were looking at Lan Xichen as if he'd suddenly grown a second head.

A very rude second head, at that.

Lan Xichen just couldn't help it. Back in that awful future, the man he would have become had also been enraged and saddened at the unfairness of the world, particularly with regards to Meng Yao. If people hadn't judged him so harshly for something he had no control over, if instead they had taken notice of his skill, of his hard working personality, of his determination…

In that future, Lan Xichen had never dared to speak up, believing in the virtues of inaction and of leading by example, the way he'd been taught to behave. So far in this current life his attempts at being more active hadn't really worked so well, only ensuring that Nie Huaisang made a terrible friend in Su She and started hating Lan Xichen much earlier, but maybe this time, just maybe...

“Lan-xiansheng, your nephew is rather opinionated for a boy his age,” Huang Quiling complained. “I have heard a great deal how well behaved the young heir to Gusu Lan is, but it appears some reputations are undeserved.”

“My nephew will be dealt with,” Lan Qiren calmly replied, which dampened Lan Xichen's moment of rebellion more than anger could have. “And he will present excuses to you. Right now, Xichen.”

“But Lan gongzi's right!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, coming out from his hiding place being Meng Shi. Under Lan Qiren's glare he shivered, but didn't give up. “I mean, he's right at least to ask if Meng gongzi was tested,” he mumbled. “And he's right to say it's not fair if nobody will teach him just because of his family! I've read our histories, you know. I know people didn't want to teach some butcher any cultivation because it's unclean work, and now we're a big sect. Isn't it the same? And it's not just us, right?”

His eyes darted toward Jiang Fengmian, who smiled at the unsaid accusation.

The official history said that Yunmeng Jiang had been founded by a group of rogue cultivators. They had tired of wandering, and established themselves in a small port which soon thrived thanks to their presence and influence. As far as founding stories went, it was a very respectable one.

The less official story was that their founder had been the leader of a band of thieves who had picked up a trick or two and figured that cultivation paid better than robbery. Lan Xichen had never been interested enough in the subject to do any research, but he had a cousin with a taste for history who swore that annals from that period corroborated the second version more than the first. If so, it wasn't much better than being descended from a prostitute, though enough time had passed that it didn't matter so much anymore.

“I see my nephew won't be the only one who needs to be dealt with,” Lan Qiren remarked in an icy voice. Nie Huaisang, having used up all of his courage in standing up to his teacher, hid again behind Meng Shi, trying to make himself small.

“Boys must stand for something, it's what youth is for,” Jiang Fengmian replied with good humour, before gesturing toward Meng Yao. “Come here, boy. Let's see what all the fuss is about.”

“Jiang zongzhu, you're not serious!” Huang Quiling exploded. “That boy is just...”

“I'm only curious. If his proximity is intolerable, then perhaps you might help my son check those manuals to see if they are real or fake. Jiang Cheng, help Huang zongzhu while we deal with this side of the problem.”

Huang Quiling went pale from rage at being ordered around in that manner, but with Yunmeng Jiang the larger and more respectable sect, he still obeyed. He stomped toward the merchant's stall in a manner Lan Xichen found lacking in the dignity to be expected of a sect leader. Meng Yao, for his part, hesitated to obey Jiang Fengmian's order until Jiang Cheng pushed him forward. Huang Quiling radiated hatred when Meng Yao passed by him on his way to the other sect leaders. He looked as if he might have tried something, or said some other insults, but Meng Yao wisely made sure to leave as much space as possible between the two of them, which wasn't easy in a crowded market street.

“Come closer, child,” Jiang Fengmian requested when Meng Yao hesitantly stopped a few steps away from him. “I am going to put my hand on you to check your meridians. It might feel a little odd... but if my son tested you, you know that already, hm?”

Meng Yao nervously nodded glancing back toward his mother who smiled encouragingly. He only shivered a little when Jiang Fengmian put one hand over his heart, and even less so when Lan Qiren did the same after being invited to do so by Jiang Fengmian.

“I suppose the children have a point,” Lan Qiren conceded, his expression turning somewhat warmer. “How old are you, boy?”

“I'm sixteen, Lan-xiansheng.”

Instantly, Lan Qiren's expression darkened again.

“Too old then. If you'd been two or three years younger... and even then it would have been difficult. It's best to start young.”

Meng Yao's shoulders slumped down at the news, while all of Lan Xichen's hopes were crushed. He knew that his sect preferred younger disciples, though he suspected it had less to do with actual cultivation, and more with the fact that children took to discipline better than teenagers. Still, he had hoped that Meng Yao, with his potential... but Lan Qiren's word was final in these matters, with only their sect leader having a right to contradict him. Meng Yao couldn't be brought into Gusu Lan.

Which meant another option would have to be considered.

With dread curling in his guts and a choking sensation tightening his throat, Lan Xichen looked at Nie Huaisang still half hidden behind Meng Shi, and found the other boy staring right back at him. Nie Huaisang no longer appeared as furious at him as he had been before, but that might have been because he was preparing his own move, ready to ruin all of Lan Xichen's efforts. Nie Huaisang opened his mouth, surely to offer again that Meng Yao be sent to Qinghe, but missed his chance to speak.

“Yunmeng Jiang has never looked down on older disciples,” Jiang Fengmian said with a pleasant smile. “It can be a challenge to learn cultivation with a late start, but anyone who cannot take a challenge has no place teaching in the Lotus Pier. Sixteen... it could be worse. One of my own shidi was in his thirties when he joined us, and still did well enough for himself.”

Lan Xichen shivered, his body tensing further at this proposition.

Perhaps it was because he knew already, but the resemblance between Meng Yao and his father, between him and his half-brother also, was quite striking to him. It was possible that Jiang Fengmian hadn’t noticed, but unlikely when he often dealt with Jin Guangshan. Even if he really saw nothing, his wife was well known to be a very close friend to Madam Jin. There was no way Madam Yu wouldn’t notice that their newest disciple resembled Jin Guangshan, and since she was said to be a tyrant and the true ruler of Yunmeng Jiang…

“Are you sure this is wise?” Lan Qiren asked. “Even if that boy can be taught, his family…”

“His mother taught him well enough that he would take the defence of a stranger even in a fight he couldn’t win,” Jiang Fengmian said. “Or so your nephew said before. A good heart is what matters.”

“But half of Yunping City could be his father,” Huang Quiling argued, who'd paid more attention to their conversation than to the cultivation manuals he was meant to inspect. “From the lowest beggar to any drunk merchant with too much money to waste.”

“His father is a cultivator,” Meng Shi said, striding to come at her son's side. “He said he would return for A-Yao, but…” She glanced at Nie Huaisang who had followed her to hide again behind her. He had shared so much gossip earlier, it would have been hard for her to keep her hopes up. She sighed. “I only want for my son to live up to his potential. If he can be a cultivator, then that’s... good enough.”

“Is your son under any contractual obligation?” Jiang Fengmian asked.

“He's not,” Meng Shi vehemently decried. “He's free.”

“That will make things easier. If that is fine with you, I will accompany you two to your place of residence. We can talk about certain details while your son packs, and then he will come to Yunmeng with me. Would that satisfy you?”

Meng Shi, speechless, could only bow deeply before her son's new master. Meng Yao did the same a few times, before hugging his mother, both of them too stunned by this good fortune to even smile. As they held each other's hands tightly, Jiang Fengmian gave his son a few things to do while he was busy.

Huang Quiling too appeared quite stunned by this turn of events, and a good deal less pleased than the Mengs, but he wisely kept quiet about it. Lan Qiren's refusal to teach Meng Yao on account of his age would save Huang Quiling some face, since he could now pretend he had the same issue, but it wouldn't surprise Lan Xichen is the relationship because Yunmeng Jiang and Yunping Huang remained tense for a while.

Lan Xichen couldn't quite feel sorry for it. He didn't like people who thought they were allowed to be rude to their inferiors, and hoped that sect leader Huang would learn something from this experience.

Then, having given his son instructions, Jiang Fengmian walked back to Lan Qiren to bid him goodbye, explaining he expected his schedule for the day to be so changed that they might as well separate for good right then. Lan Qiren agreed, but frowned as he glanced toward Meng Yao.

“That boy's father, with his looks...” he said in a voice low enough the Mengs might not hear, but still clear enough for a cultivator's ears.

Eavesdropping was forbidden, but Lan Xichen found he couldn't help himself. Neither could Nie Huaisang, who leaned toward the two men to hear better.

“Probably. I'll have his mother confirm it,” Jiang Fengmian said in a similar tone. “but it won't change things. Even if my wife doesn't like it, I would be a fool to pass a chance to teach a boy of such potential. And Jin zongzhu would never admit any relation, so it'll all be fine.”

Lan Xichen let out a deep breath, relieved that things had worked out so well after all. He would have preferred to have Meng Yao in the Cloud Recesses, where he could have watched him closely and made sure he didn't go again down the same path as before, but the Lotus Pier wasn't an awful option either. They'd managed to turn someone like Wei Wuxian into an honest enough man, so they might know how to deal with Meng Yao as well.

Even when Lan Qiren reminded his nephew and Nie Huaisang that they would both be harshly punished for their bad behaviour, Lan Xichen found that he didn't mind, not when there was a good chance they had saved Nie Mingjue's life.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin guangyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #I am... finally done with Yunping City...#This took so much longer than I wanted it to take...

35 notes · View notes

star-killer-md · 3 years

Text

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (“Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that.

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for.

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets.

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.”

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff.

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair.

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.”

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.”

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing.

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.”

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same.

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob.

Definitely not.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things.

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed.

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway.

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you.

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early.

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily.

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges.

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font.

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied.

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence.

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient.

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms.

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.”

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway.

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before.

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall.

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him.

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in.

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey.

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook.

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side.

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—”

“She’ll be busy.”

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.”

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth.

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience.

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened.

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious.

And left you seething nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was.

The quiet before the storm and all that.

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.”

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted.

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape.

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.”

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers.

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle.

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket.

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time.

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped.

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies.

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren.

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh.

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—”

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.”

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers

biting into your jaw.

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them.

“Answer.”

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control.

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear.

“Swallow.”

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice.

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement.

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin.

But it was very clear to you what he really meant.

Remember who you belong to.

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet.

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.”

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him.

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there.

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock.

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either.

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure.

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.”

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside.

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you.

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.”

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire.

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length.

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours.

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock.

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him.

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt.

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth.

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him.

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure.

Oh you were so royally fucked.

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you.

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore.

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.”

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length.

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it.

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was.

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose.

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door.

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence.

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.”

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day.

Maybe that didn’t matter either.

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren smut #mob!kylo ren #lawyer!reader #dr. b writes #requests #adcu fanfic

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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silvercrystalwhump · 3 years

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Sometimes you get called a Bitch at 6 AM

(Vincent and Kauri belong to @ashintheairlikesnow and Dmitri belongs to me)

This is based on an ask for Ash on her page. I decided to write a thing on it. Just cause tiredKauri is just mwah.

Vincent at his dark granite counters, whisking at some batter for pancakes. He did not have to be anywhere until noon today since the Director wants night scenes today. Since Dmitri had to be at his shop, Vincent thought to make him pancakes before he left. It is a quiet morning. Vincent can hear the morning bird chirping their little hearts out outside.

Everything is nice and quiet.

Then, his phone rings.

Vincent presses the answer call on his phone and brings to his ear, "Hello, Shield speaking."

"Bitch."

"Oh hello Kauri, How was your morning?"

"Fuck you, I need your help," Kauri says, voice slightly groggy from sleep most likely. Vincent can hear the sound of water running in the background and the tapping of a shoe on the floor.

Vincent tosses in some chocolate chips and holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder, "Whatcha need?"

"This stupid fucking fine, I can't pay for it and if I tell Nat she might have my neck and Jake is still drugged up on the damned futon that almost closed on him two fucken' days ago!"

Vincent sprinkles a bit of oil on the pan and turns the volume down on his phone a little before replying, "Futon? Did something happen because I'm fairly certain he has a bed because I bought Nat one for Christmas a few years back and she said that she didn't need one so she gave it to Jake."

Kauri rustles something and the sound of probably pots and pans falling onto the floor resonates through the phone. HE listens to Kauri hiss out curses as he shoves stuff away.

Vincent just flips one of the pancakes he poured. Leaning over and starting the coffee, he slides out a few things onto the counter for Dmitri and eventually himself. "Did something happen with Jake?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second!" Kauri snaps before muttering, "Why does Antoni insist on rearranging the whole kitchen once a month." Some more rustling later and Vincent glances over at the clock on the wall, 6:14 am.

Why is Kauri up this early?

Vincent sets the oven to warm and slides his plate inside and Kauri rips apart the house through the phone. Once the noise dies down on Kauri's end, Vincent asks, "What's the fine?"

"Something about unlawful protesting and trespassing but I wasn't even on the damn premises for crying out loud. Fifteen hundred dollars over some fucking fliers and some spite. I should've decked him!" Kauri rants as he walks around and goes through a door, "Fifteen hundred dollars!"

Vincent sets some of the pans quietly in the sink. Then, the sound of tumbling down the stairs and a groan rips his eyes upward. Dmitri stumbles off the stairs and props an arm up on the table.

"I hate your fucking stairs," Dmitri groans as he slides into the chair next to him.

Vincent stifles a laugh and slides the pancakes towards Dmitri, "Good morning, I'm on the phone I'll be back in a minute." Vincent grabs his coffee and steps out into the living room.

It's quiet on the other end for a moment before Kauri chuckles, "Who's that~"

Vincent sighs, feeling the curious mockery he through phone, "Nobody important."

"Nononononono that's not how that works. When NAt told me you were becoming more like me every time she saw you I thought she was joking," Kauri chuckles, "Apparently she was not."

"Kauri..."

He hears Kauri laugh on the end of the phone and the sound of a couch creaking, "So tell me, was he good?"

Vincent takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head, "He's not a hookup, Kauri. He's just a friend."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Out of my," Kauri pauses, "Alot of hookups most of them I didn't even know their name. So I get it."

"He's not a hookup Kauri, I'm telling you the truth," Vincent mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Do you want me to send Nat the money so she can help you with that or what?"

"Somebodies in denial," Kauri sing-songs, "If he's not tell me his name."

"It's not important Kauri, who do you want me to send the money to or do you want to give me your transfer numbers for your bank," Vincent groans as he leans back into his couch.

"I'll send them later, so what's his---" Kauri says as the sound of knocking dances through the phone "---Who the fuck is here at six in the morning?" Footsteps are followed by, "Laken? What are you doing here?"

"To apologize, for the argument," Vincent hears their voice through the phone.

Vincent looks up to see Dmitri leaning over the couch above him. He gives his tall boyfriend a drowsy smile and pulls the phone away from his ear. Dmitri places a kiss on Vincent's forehead and whispers, "I know you're busy but I'm headed out and I'll call you when I get back."

Vincent smiles, "Looking forward to it."

He returns the phone t his ear to listen to the tail end of, "-He's not even awake yet Laken. Something happened yesterday because he fell asleep with Jake so have a blanket and sleep on the couch I'll wake you when Chris' awake."

Kauri sighs and Vincent can hear him walking up the stairs. Kauri starts a computer and Vincent listens to an old chair creak under Kauri's weight.

"So, Mr. InDenial, what's his name then, Hmmm?" Kauri pokes.

Vincent buckles slightly, "Dmitri." He immediately regrets letting the word slip off his tongue.

"You hooked up with a guy named Dmitri, so was he any good?"

Vincent, now bending under annoyance and tiredness, spills, "No Kauri, he's my boyfrie--- why is this important?"

There's quiet behind the phone and then Kauri laughs, "You. A boyfriend. Holy shit! That... was not something I thought you were capable off."

"Ouch," Vincent mutters, "Please don't tell anyone, we're trying to keep this on the down low, please."

Vincent can figuratively see Kauri rolling his eyes, "Why would you need to do that? Publicity?"

"Publicity is the least of my concerns when it comes to that," Vincent whispers, his voice lowing unconsciously.

Once again, the ear-splitting silence echos through the phone before, "Almost forgot about him."

"Yeah."

The sound of the keyboard clicking brings Vincent back from his memories and into his living room. Vincent's fingers wrap around the edge of one of his pillows and his knuckles whiten.

"I pulled up my details, let me find the routing number- Jake what are you doing out of bed!" Kauri quietly yells.

Jake says something but the words don't register through the phone.

Kauri sounds annoyed when he answers, "I've already dealt with it, get your ass back in bed. I'll join you when I'm done with this bullshit. No- Go back to bed."

Vincent sets down the phone so Kauri can tell Jake what to do in peace. He exhales and now really wants Dmitri to come back.

"I don't know how Jake does this shit, every damn day," Vincent hear Kauri groan through the phone. He picks it back up and listens, "Getting up every day at the ass crack of dawn... and this isn't even the hardest part of the day and I already wanna sleep."

"Yeah," Vincent says breathless, "I can't imagine having to care for that many people. Hell, I can barely for the couple I have."

I can barely care for myself.

"Nat's gone dealing with Jameson. Jake was fucking stabbed! Chris is off in college and back for some reason, something happened too. Laken just materialized. Antoni hasn't been acting right and- fuck I just need a break," Kauri says, "I'm not good at being the one everyone relies on."

Vincent sighs, "It's not fun, having to worry about so many people and, at the same time, them worrying about you. I can't really help you directly with that but I know a place that doesn't ask questions. They serve coffee and scones there and, if you want, I can get you coffee one morning. To get away from the madness for a morning."

Kauri says nothing for a moment. A few breaths pass before Vincent hears a mouse click.

"No."

Click.

A second later, Vincent receives a text with a handful of numbers. He makes a mental note to send over the money as soon as possible. Standing up, he walks back to the kitchen and grabs his breakfast.

Kauri stayed on his mind for a while after that.

#vincent shield #dmitri o'brian #vince tries #kauri is also trying #just at something different

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bacchicly · 2 years

Text

Character vs Performer

My first attempt at writing this post started out with an apology for overthinking and for how long this might be and how the ideas are kind of self evident and likely already stated better by those who came before me.

But I am trying really hard to stop apologizing for being me and for doing what I enjoy (i.e. "over" thinking - pouring out words - writing about what interests me and what I care about - in this space that is mine).

So instead THANK YOU for reading and for any thoughts you want to share on this subject! And if you don't want to read my stuff or interact with me - don't. If you don't like my content or it makes you unhappy - block my blog - set your own boundaries and curate the shit out of this space. I'm old - I always have the right number of friends for the moment - and fuck it - I don't deserve to apologize for existing - neither do you. Hurt someone? Yeah we need to make amends and do what we can to stop it from happening again - but just being and doing our best. No apologies required.

Why am I preoccupied with thinking about this?

I am a trained theatre creator. I could not swing a full-time professional career - money, ADHD, family stuff and a desire for stability are some of the reasons. Ideally I would be directing or dramaturging new stage productions - but there is no role on or off stage that I haven't done - I have worked for student, amateur, semi-professional, fringe, and professional productions and companies. I come from a family of writers, teachers, and theatre people. I am married to a writer, performer, and artist. Some of my best friends are performers, writers, and/or techs. The separation between performer and character has always interested me fiercely. I vividly remember acting classes where we dealt with the subject.

So what's my take?

Personally, I would feel wrong writing the type of fictional scenes I'm writing about 99.99%* of real living people without either adequately disguising their identity AND/OR without their explicit consent.

For me this also applies to deceased folks with alive people who loved them who could be expected to defend the person's best interests...

...so DaVinci - ok. Carrie Fisher - no.

*99.99% I still have to put some additional thought into what I believe are the boundaries around including certain living public figures as characters in fiction...so for example a political figure as a lead protagonist in a novel...

Conversely a character - for me - especially in the performance arts - is perforce an imaginary concept that is constructed through a variety of mechanisms and is ultimately malleable and can be reinterpreted within certain bounds...

i.e. You might think of Leonardo DiCaprio if I wrote a scene between Romeo and Juliet...but you might also think of the high school senior you saw play the role in grade school...or your most recent crush. All versions would still be Romeo and valid - but each version would be unique. It's actually tied to one of the key concepts they teach you in theatre school - what responsibility do you have to the original text as a director / performer / designer? How does it differ if the playwright is alive and had clear purpose - than if you you are using a text like Shakespeare? Over and over we are encourage to ask - why? Why this costume? Why these colours? Why this tone of voice? What impact does it have - how do all these choices tie together into a single gestalt?

I suppose at some point a character may be changed so much it is no longer that character... and there is nothing wrong with that.. but the fascinating question is always why? Why claim a character is a character if they are unrecognisable as the original... there are good reasons... there are bad reasons.. but that's what I am always super curious about the why.

Why have you cast both Romeo and Juliet as women? or both as men? Or Romeo as a woman and Juliet as a man? Why have you staged the show in a pool? Why have you made Romeo a chain smoker who is not attracted to Juliet? Why is Romeo clearly in love with Mercutio but trying to convince Juliet he's into her? Why? Why? Why? If you've got a good reason that I can understand - then I can engage with it. Maybe I agree with your point - maybe I don't - but I can deduce what the work is trying to get across or trying to do and how well (or not) it's achieving what the creator set out to do. And yes "to amuse" can be a totally legitimate reason. Full stop.

Where my thinking got muddier, was when I considered the ethics of using - transforming - a character which is currently inseparable from a specific performer.

Is it ethical to use that type of character in this type of writing?

I think... I think I have concluded it's ok... whether the writer is like me and has thought it through ad infinitum or is someone who has jumped into a glorious hobby without much thought... just for the joy of it or whatever personal reason they engage either as a creator or as reader... because I think most people instinctively understand that there is separation between performer and character.

I am ignoring the whole issue of ownership and financial gain.... that is a whole other ball of wax...and for now I've just decided that as long as I make no money at this whole thing - I'm ok on that front.

Further... as someone who has acting training, has performed a variety of roles, and who has helped actors and writers create performances as a director and/or dramaturge...

I believe that most performers have access to training and resources which allow them to separate themselves from their characters or at least identify when they are not doing it in a healthy way.

There are classes dedicated to character thoughts vs actor thoughts.

There are workshops (so important) that teach directors how to create safe spaces for performers and that give actors the tools they need to navigate intimate, violent, or in other ways upsetting scenes.

More and more people talk about boundaries and how to set them...

Consent. It keeps coming back to consent.

If you have read my first fanfic Mountain Air...you will have seen my extremely long embarrassing terrifying author's note in chapter 5 😬...

But if you haven't here's the gist:

I write sex scenes - explicit ones - about characters who will likely always be associated with a single individual performer. So I literally have spent hours upon hours wondering about the morality of me doing this. Is there harm in me creating these works? Am I stealing something from those people? Could the work I do hurt them?

What about readers? Could what I am doing inspire someone to do harm to the performers? What responsibility do I have?

Is it better that I just assume that they will only come across this work I am doing if they want to and therefor it is not harmful?

Did I google a couple times to see if the performers had any hard statements on record about their stance on explicit fan fiction...yup...was it extensive? Nope.

Should it have been. Maybe?

With T.V. I worry less about the writers etc. because of the multiple hands thing...although some of these arguments could definitely apply to characters who have been written by a single creator.

Should I ask for the performers directly for consent? If yes, how could/should that work?

Honnestly could you imagine being a famous actor (it might be different if you were not someone famous on the world stage) and receiving a letter from me... I mean I would phrase it differently but the gist would be:

Dear X,

I promise I am not a crazy stalker but I would like your permission to invoke your body and performance in the minds of my readers.

I really really respect you as a performer and love the character you portrayed and really really want to write about them because of xyz.

BTW I write explicit sex...

So people will definitely be imagining what you look like naked - which we all know happens anyways - since you did the whole XYZ sexy movie thing... but y'know consent in one context does not constitute consent in another.... So what do you say?

I promise to be exceeding verbose about the fact that I am evoking the character you played and not you as a real person... which will probably turn off readers who are really just there for a quick orgasm and some serotonin - which I totally support btw.

So yeah...is that ok?

Thank you and Best Regards,

Bacchic

Ultimately I decided that what I - we - gain by assuming consent due to the lack of easily findable statements denying consent, is more beneficial than us not having this community and the works not being created.

But this is also why I am so fierce about articulating my whys and my boundaries and using the work for what I see as "goodness" instead of "evil".

Using these characters permits us to tap into a community and shorthand which is valuable to me as a writer and to the members of the fandom. We can stand on the shoulders of the work done by the show's creators.

Plus reading and writing and participating in my own weird intense way in this fandom makes me damn happy. It is making me a better writer. A better artist. A better partner and mom. Healthier and happier.

Hopefully my contributions do something similar for someone else?

Based on what I have let myself learn about the performers I am concerned about - I believe that they could get behind being a part of all that. At least I devoutly hope so.

More about why fanfiction (link to be added).

Return to masterlist.

#fanfiction #consent #garvez #writing #character vs performer

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 3 years

Text

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Dad!AU)

Summary: Ransom Drysdale, a man who didn’t make wise decisions in his teens. Wasting three years of his life in jail, he takes his freedom for another two. Little did he know, a woman he long ago had a thing for, ends up leaving him with a 16-year-old for the holidays. Hazel Rose Drysdale. His daughter.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

This takes place after Knives Out. Family will be mentioned, there will be minor spoilers for Knives Out.

Warnings: Bad parenting, swearing, Ransom being an asshole, minor spoilers for Knives Out, angst, mentions of murder/jail, minor mental abuse, mentions of abortion/pregnancy, Mentions of suicide

I do not consent to have my work hosted on any second party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

There’s a Hamilton reference in here and I couldn’t help but throw it in there.

You always thought San Francisco was a horrible place to be on your own for. Having a job there, you’d be an hour late if you lived outside the city. This year had been tough on you. You felt like your rent was going up or that your job was getting lower paychecks. Your head was spinning every day that you could barely answer anyone’s questions. The lack of sleep you get every night, especially having to wake up every day at six.

You fix yourself a coffee but then end up at a nearby Starbucks to grab one. They always had better coffee for your energy gain. You weren’t really a money maker, you drove a very old red Honda. You have bills coming in through the mail slot that it has you wanting to burn them to ashes. You couldn’t handle enough stress, especially having a 16-year-old daughter.

At that age that’s when you had your only precious little girl, Hazel. You always made sure she never met any boy that could have her end up like you long ago. Being a teen mom wasn’t easy. Even lying to your daughter was something you couldn’t bear to keep from. It was only to protect her.

Hazel never spoke once about who her father was. As a child, she had dolls and those dolls were a family. One mother, one daughter and a father. Hazel made them the happiest dolls in her mind. She never asked anything related to her family’s relations or where they lived.

She was home schooled since, you were too afraid to have her at school and be bullied by boys or girls. It was something you dealt with and you didn’t want that to happen to her. You didn’t have the money for her too. Gas money, bills, dinner and rent were your only priorities. To have a roof over Hazel’s head, to drive her to the library or stores to get new outfits, feed her every morning, afternoon and night. Like you said, it wasn’t easy.

Your parents live up in Oregon for a while now and you would sometimes visit them over the holidays. Their reactions to your pregnancy, it didn’t end well. The few weeks of being pregnant, they were disappointed. The father’s side of the family had been one of the most entitled families in town. You grew up in Massachusetts and when you got pregnant, your parents moved to Oregon after you had Hazel.

And Hazel’s father abandoned you. Being 17 and 16, you were the one scared while he watched you in disgust and asked to abort your child. That decision was one of the hardest decisions of your life. Either live with the pain of delivering your baby girl or painfully lay on your bed thinking you could’ve had a good life with your daughter.

And you did have a good life whether you struggled to keep her happy. You hope no boy or man could ruin her reputation and lose hope in the world to make someone happy. “Miss L/N.” The dark velvet voice made you lose your trance and your eyes darted over to your boss. Or someone who is your guide for three years.

Mr. Charles Leyman. His blonde hair was combed to the side, his piercing blue eyes could have any office women get lost in. His suits were always made fine by a professional and his watches always came in different colors. Surely, they were over a thousand dollars. Charles had been your guide since you joined the large business in San Francisco. He was very kind, charming and he always knew personal space.

He always had a circle around him and it’d smell like his expensive cologne. Out of the cologne you’ve known, this one smelled like Guilty Intense. The Italian lemon, patchouli, amber, mandarin, and orange flower topping aroma was always attracting women. You wondered if he was a mama’s boy just on how much of a gentleman he was.

You saw his side grin creep up to his face, “You must be preoccupied in your own mind palace,” He mentioned towards you. Your hand reaches up to the small strand of hair and you pull it back. “Sorry.” Charles folds his hands in each other and leans on his desk. The man was in his thirties, a couple more years older than you.

“You know, you don’t always have to apologize for everything you do that is no harm. I just didn’t want you to be stuck in your head, Miss L/N.” Your head lifts up to him. He softly grins, “I wanted to discuss your recent report on the Berkeley College. Something about the Science and Technology Event on October 28th.”

You gently tilted your head, “What about it?” Charles lifted the print of the page and scanned through as if he wasn’t sure himself what the problem was. He clicks his tongue, “You kind of repeated yourself in a couple paragraphs. Even spelling errors. Have you been using-”

You nod, eyes closing slowly out of embarrassment, “Yes, I was. But I think our internet was shut off due to th-”

“That forum doesn’t need the internet to correct your mistakes. It corrects off Wi-Fi.” You sighed softly, turning your gaze away from him and he lowers the paper down to look at you, solemnly. “Look, Miss L/N. I’m not here to criticize you, I’m here to help you. And I know you have a 16-year-old at home and the father’s passing, you-”

“I will say this once and I hope you take it as it is. I’m fine.” Charles leans back a little to your response. Watching you closely to see your hands fidget in your lap. He almost felt like a brother to you, but there were moments where he offered you to dinner and almost walked you over to your car. It was embarrassing to see him and his silver Audi. You were sure he had a Tesla. The invites to his home were always nice. Charles knew your daughter well.

They got along well and never heard a single bad thing from Hazel, saying she had a good time with Charles. Hazel always told you how much fun she had with anything, she walks over to the public library, tells you about a book she read. You know she went to the library when she texted you earlier this morning.

That day, you relaxed at your desk and looked over the recent drafts of your future reports to go on the papers. You feel your phone ring and your hand picks it up from the desk.

Incoming call from Hazel-Bear

You picked up the phone and held it up to your ear, “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, mom. Can you pick me up?” You look over to the wall with the clock, showing the time. You were only a few ways away. “Can you wait for 10 minutes?” You hear Hazel hum in a yes, “Yeah. I’m just sitting in the library.” You began to close your computer and logged off. “Okay, honey. I’ll text you when I get there.” You started to put your papers in your bag and slipped in your laptop. “Okay. Bye, mom! Love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll see you.”

Hazel was always the type to listen. As a child, she wasn’t spoiled as much because of what you had as a teenager. You were glad she didn’t end up like her father. She was sweet. Her smiles always made everyone welcomed in her space. Gatherings and meetings, your co-workers and friends always chatted about your daughter. Hazel would always keep a conversation lit up and she’d make every interesting comment. Being a book-worm, she would go on and on like a Stephen King book or become William Shakespeare and her words were strong.

You’d do anything for her, no matter what. Picking her up at the library was always a doing for you. The distance wasn’t long but you enjoyed picking her up there.

You pull up to the front of the library and see your daughter come up to the side of the door and jump in. “Thank you, mom,” She says, you greet her with a smile and watch her hold a book in her hand. “You’re welcome, honey. Did you return Hesse?”

Hazel nods and looks over to you, “Yeah. And I found this interesting book called Vulcan’s Den. Everyone’s been reading the author’s books since he died 5 years ago.” You glance over to her, seeing her eyes read the story in her hands. She looked like she was through 10 chapters already. “Hm. Who’s the author?”

“Harlan Thrombey.”

Your face froze into a fit of shock. Your fists twist around the wheel and Hazel spoke the whole time but then realized you had been temporarily deaf. “...he committed suicide.”

You look up to see the red light and you step on the break causing the car to jerk forward a bit. Your eyes lower to your hands on the wheel, “What, sweetheart?” Hazel turns and gently closes her book. “I said, he was found dead in his home. Committed suicide.” Hazel turns back to her book with a grin. “He was a really good author. I’ve been thinking about writing stories, too! He always knew how to make crime and mysteries such a good genre.”

Your eyes stare in front like you just ran over someone but all you could do is nod and say, “That’s... tragic, sweetheart. I’m sure he would’ve loved to hear your stories.” And your way back home was silent for the next 10 minutes. The only name coming to flood your mind like a banshee. Screaming internally, your heart felt like pin needles were jabbing into it and your breathing somewhat became more quite. As if you died in your seat but your mind kept going on.

Harlan Thrombey.

A man who writes like he’s running out of time.

That night, you had just made dinner and sat in the small living room watching television as usual. Glancing over to the kitchen sharing with the dining room, you see Hazel at the table, eating and reading the book she got today. You couldn’t help but grin at her read the book with such concentration.

You turn your gaze over to the TV but you didn’t pay mind to it. The sounds of your neighbors playing music or their dogs barking above you. Hazel closes her book and sighs softly. “Oh mom?” She asks, you turn to her, raising your brows up. “Hm?”

Her hand rests on the table as she turns her body towards you, “There’s this musical coming into Oakland in December and I was thinking we can get tickets? I don’t know if you’re familiar with Hamilton.” You tried not to give Hazel the look of ‘I’m sorry’, you just stared at her blankly, trying to sound less of a bad mother. Sure the tickets were a bit over 50 dollars. You couldn’t even nod as you sighed, “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

Hazel turns away and picks up her book to head over to her room and you tried not to think about Harlan.

Yes, he was familiar to you. A famous author who published hundreds of books based on mysteries and murder. You weren’t there when Harlan was killed. But you knew someone at work who actually wrote the report about him. Police finding out about not only his suicide but his oldest grandchild was in jail for murder and arson.

You didn’t know much but you’ve read the report so many times. Harlan was a good author and you were happy to see your daughter read a book from someone who was related to her. Hazel never knew much about her father’s side of the family. You tried your best to keep her silent about it and she never asked once.

You remembered you had things that could make her brighten up. You stood up from your spot and made your way into your bedroom. You walked over to your closet and turned on the light to look up. Seeing a dark box written ‘Books’ on the side, you reach up and slid it off the edge and into your arms. You placed it on your bed and reached in for the book collection with Harlan’s name printed on every book.

You opened one and saw a small message written in cursive with his name at the end. Harlan always gave you the first copy and made sure you gotten them. His books made it into films and he gave you the movies and that’s where these old films laid in. Hazel will like to watch these over and over. “Ro, baby,” You call out.

You hear her call back and made her search around the apartment and met you in the bedroom. You turned and sat on the edge of your bed. “You love books, right?” You asked. Hazel nods questionably, “Yeah?” You placed your hand on the edge of the box, “These are special and old. It might not sound real to you but these are all first copies.” Hazel makes her way over and slightly gasps.

“They’re... Harlan books?” She pulls them out and opens the first book, “And he signed them!” Hazel looks up to you with a smile. Shockingly, it made you smile, “I want you to take care of these really good for me, okay? You can take them to your room and read them.” Hazel slams herself into your chest and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you, mom.”

You wrap your arms around her and held her there, placing a kiss on her head. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Hazel wasted no time into bringing the books into her room. Her eyes scanned every letter written in the books by the author, himself. He kept calling you, sweetheart. Hazel wondered if you knew him really well. You collected every book from him and they were all first copies. The films were never used and they were amazing. Hazel began to pull each of them out on her bed and reached for the last book that was wider than the others.

Hazel lifts it up and sees the cute designs.

Memories.

Hazel turns around to sit on her bed as her fingers graze over the small stickers that were worn out. She read your name on the front of the cover and flipped the page over. Photos of her grandparents, your mom and dad taking you out to the lake. A couple pictures of you reading books. Your 15th birthday photo was very old and you looked just like her. Hazel flipped the next pages and the photos gotten bigger. And the months grew further on.

Pictures of you in a dress. Your junior year in a blue silk dress, your hair was perfectly done with a bit of makeup. Hazel had not seen you so beautiful with makeup on. With a small grin, she flips the page and there’s a photo of you again at what looked like your prom dance. Her grin slowly freezes when she sees someone stand next to you with a small grin.

His hair was slick back, his tuxedo was a matching blue and his bow tie was black. His jaw was sharp enough to cut paper. Hazel knew you had her at the age of 16, the date takes back a few months before your birthday. Hazel had to think he was someone you were with. A picture of carved initials with a heart around them.

The ‘R’ was carved along with your initial and in between your initials was a plus sign. Hazel grew more into the photos and kept going over the pages. The next photos never had the boy in the photos any more. But you had your hands on your stomach with a grin. You had to be about one month pregnant. But the boy you had in the other photos never appeared in these.

Then you happened to be in Oregon. You said you were born in Oregon and lived there since you were born. Where were you before? Hazel flipped a couple more and her photos came into view. Her baby pictures were old and very nicely situated. Hazel grins softly at the photos and opened the last page to have things slip out.

Hazel catches the piece of paper and small patch from a high school logo. She looks over the patch that must’ve came from a private school. She flipped it over and read it.

Hugh D. MA, Boston

Hazel furrowed her brows at the name. Hugh must’ve been a different boy you dated. She reaches for the paper that was partially ripped in half and placed the two together like a puzzle.

Ransom (xxx) xxx - xxxx

She read the letter and saw the added heart to his name. Ransom. Who was Ransom and Hugh?

“Honey! Did you want to finish your show?” You called out to Hazel. The teenager puts the things back in the book and puts it back in the box. “Uh... Yeah! I’m coming!” And she covered it up with the others and made her way out of her room into the living room. Hazel couldn’t help but think about who her dad was.

The next morning, you made breakfast and Hazel began to eat what you’ve made. Bacon, eggs and some toast. You poured her some juice and began to clean up your mess on the counter and placed a couple dishes into the dish washer. The sounds of Hazel’s utensils scrapping against the plate, she glanced up at you and saw your calm content face doing normal chores.

“Who’s my dad?”

You drop a plate from your hands and it falls into the sink once again and shatters in pieces causing Hazel to painfully watch and you turn to her. It was bound to happen, but you didn’t expect it this soon. You did you? “What?”

Hazel nibbles on her bottom lip and gently puts her fork down and pulls her hand to her lap. “I... I want to know who dad was.” You cross your arms and reached to grab your grin and rub the sides. Hazel lowers her gaze, “I saw two names in this photo book. Hugh and Ransom. I want to know who they were. And did my father actually die in an accident?”

It was like your worst fear and the countless nightmares were coming to life. Hazel sat there for answers now. You needed to give her small details in order for her to freak out less. You never wanted to upset Hazel. Just like you didn’t want to upset her father when you first told him the news.

“But I knew Harlan very well. I met him as a kid and he gave almost every first copy of his books. I knew him because I met his oldest grandson at the age of 15. His name was Hugh.”

“So is Ransom my biological father? And Hugh was just-” Hazel noticed the shook of your head, your lips pierced together as if you tried not to spill everything towards her. The fear to see her get scared of the truth. “Those names are from one person, sweetheart. He was complicated between his first and middle name. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. He was just a year older than me.” Hazel turns her head and whispers.

“Hazel Rose Drysdale.”

You hum in response, furrowing your brows. “Is he alive?” She asked, you instantly stand up, pushing yourself off the counter, “Honey, please. Finish eating.”

“I want to know, mom. Don’t I get to say anything about him-?”

“Hazel, please. Eat your food, I’m not in the mood now to discuss your family relations-”

“You’ve lied and I need to know what else you’ve been keeping away from me.” You turn away from her and finished off the last Tupperware and sighed. It was gonna take a while for her to lose the thoughts to go away and have her continue on something else. “Mom-”

“Hazel, please! I can’t discuss this now!” You snapped. Hazel’s fingers curl into her palm and she fidgeted her thumb under them. Her feet kick herself back and she stood up. “Thank you for dinner,” she muttered, leaving her plate on the table while making her way into her room. You sighed out of regret and turned to the window.

You couldn’t tell if Hazel was crying or playing music to calm herself. You never outburst on her like that. Never in your days you’d shout at her. The mention of her father had to come out sooner or later. The truth never made its way over to you. Hazel wasn’t ready to find out. You weren’t ready to give it to her. Maybe never.

You just cleaned up her plate and put the leftovers in the fridge in case she wanted more since she barely ate thinking too much about her father.

You got a shower going and left the house, leaving a note on Hazel’s door. Your drive to work was a bit long but you managed to get there in time. Taking the elevator to the office floor, you set up your stuff on your desk and began to go through your recent reports.

Checking every wording and errors you can spot.

A soft knock hits your wall and a woman peaks over. Your office neighbor. “Morning, babes. How you doing?”

You let out a soft sigh, “Morning, Ciara.” Your fingers worked against the keyboard, writing away till someone takes your chair and spun you around. The red-head lightly glares in your eyes. You turn your head, “What?” You asked, Ciara squints her eyes. “What happened?” She replies with the same questionable tone. All you did was shake your head and Ciara pouts at you. She was never going to let you get away that easily.

“She knows about her dad?”

You nod towards her, raising your mug up to your lips to regain your energy. Ciara pinches her chin to be in a thinking stance and her brows bounce up, “Well, shit.” You look over to her and she lightly laughs. “What am I going to do?” You ask.

Ciara thinks, “Well... I don’t think you can keep her away forever.”

“What do you mean?” You ask once more, Ciara tilts her head at you and that made your heart drop. “No. No! I cannot do that-” Ciara drops her arms from the crossing and sighs. “Y/N, you really messed up the pooch here. If my mom lied about my dad being dead, I would’ve wanted to meet him.”

“You don’t know what he’s like,” You said, “He’s arrogant. A complete asshole-”

“Okay! Okay... but your daughter would have to at least get to know him. Give her a few days. Weeks. Who knows? Maybe he’ll come around. Hazel needs a father figure in her life and every kid would want to have their parents together.” You shook your head softly and raised your glass back up to your lips and took a large sip.

You wouldn’t trust Ransom being with Hazel for who knows how long. You couldn’t trust yourself to stay a day there. You wouldn’t last a minute to be in the same room with him. But you thought about Hazel. You felt more selfish for yourself than for Hazel. You had your dad but she never got to see him once. You kept him under a rock that Hazel couldn’t lift up and now she found his photo.

She found you and him together.

There can’t be a way to change her mind. Unless she stays with him. The holidays were coming up. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. Maybe you’d give her that much time with him. Ciara’s face leans down to look at you in the eye. For some kind of response for her to agree or to push.

Your mug lowers from your face and you two just shared looks.

That day, you made your way back home after your work was finished. You felt like you swallowed bees. You didn’t bother to text Hazel you were coming home or that you were going to talk to her. You just needed to be home right away to talk to her. To tell her everything.

You were afraid to give her everything about him. You needed to take it slow every now and then.

The moment you stepped into your apartment you dropped your bag and opened Hazel’s bedroom, seeing her on her bed with her laptop on her lap. “Hey, mom,” She says.

You grin softly, “Can I talk to you?” Hazel did not refuse and she watches you sit on the edge of her bed. Hazel knew this certain stance of a parent. “I know this morning was not my morning. But... I want you to know that I love you very much. And that I did not mean to yell. But I am willing... to tell you about your father. He didn’t die in an accident.”

Hazel closes her laptop and gently pulls her knees to cross in front of her. You did it yourself, crossing your leg over the other. “What do you want to know?” You ask in a calm voice. Hazel lowers her gaze to think about the millions of questions already scrambling through her head like a roller coaster.

She finally caught one, “What was dad like?” She says, shyly. This was the question you didn’t want to hear from her. But you had to anyway, “He was... difficult to work with in school. His family was rich and so anything he could do wouldn’t be a problem. He was kind in some moments, I remembered his father always fought with him.”

“Did he leave when... you were?”

Hazel noticed your soft nod and your head lowers, picking at your nails like you were a little girl again. How much you blushed when he came toward you like you saw him for the first time. The way he pulled a strand behind your ear. He never complimented much nor did he say ‘I love you’.

“We were around your age when I found out about you. After I told him, his parents flipped. And after a few days, he yelled and left. That’s when I moved to Oregon with your grandma and grandpa.” You reach for her hair and pushed it behind her ear. Just like he did to you.

Your hand rests on the sheets and you softly sighed. Regretting these words slip out like a load of cash falling out of an ATM. “If I trust you... to call me everyday, every night. I might consider something.”

“Consider what?” She asks, you don’t respond to her and that made her eyes slowly go wide. “To visit him?” You take her hand and gently grasped it. “I am sending you to Boston.”

“You can’t come?” She asked. You shook your head and reached up for her cheek. “I think it’s best to stay here and keep going to work. I have a project and I hate to leave you, but I really want you to call me. I love hearing your voice.” Hazel grins and nods. “Thank you, mom.”

You smile at her and pulled her to your chest. Placing a kiss on her forehead, you trusted her more now. The least of trust was from her father. The most scary thing to do was to call him. Hazel pulls away and she slips something into your hand. “What’s this?” You asked.

You opened the small note and read the similar number with his name written nicely in. “In case you didn’t have it.” You held the paper tight in your hand and turned to Hazel one last time before standing up. “Dinner will be ready in a couple minutes.” Hazel nods and went back to her own things as you left her room and went into yours.

You pulled out your phone and stared at the keypad. His number sitting on the paper, urging you to not call. 16 years apart, you never thought it’d come to this day. His daughter to stay with him for a while. What if he was still in jail? He could be with another woman and it’d be too late for Hazel to be with a man who’s married to another woman.

It’d be awkward.

Your thumb automatically pushes the numbers and your thumb hovers over the call button. Your breath began to get caught in your throat. Your eyes began to water and your fingers shook. You clicked the button and heard it buzz in your ear.

The ring went off.

You waited.

It rung again.

You swallowed hard. “Hello?”

“Hugh.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

There was a long pause.

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Official Taglist:

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alley-catz-vs-daybreakers · 3 years

Text

Only Fools Rush In

AC & DB drama track

Happy Birthday Gentaro! 🎉

Leading up to April 1st, a pair of Division leaders find them in a rather humorous mishap. However, due to a certain someone’s desire for inspiration, all six members are brought into the chaos. Meanwhile, the amused author looks on.

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei? This is Furuhata Kosuke, you wanted to meet with me about a book cover?

Gentaro: Apologies, you seem to have the wrong person you see, for I am merely a poorly paid cosplayer. Meant to promote the recent book of a different author, titled “Tales of Genji.”

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei, that is a book most know already know by name. Regardless, do you have any ideas for how you’d like for your cover to look?

Gentaro: I have no preference, though I would prefer it to an extravagant and bright one to catch eyes on the selves as it is different from my usual stories. A stand out story must have a stand out cover after all.

Kosuke: R-right. So may I see the overview to get an idea?

Gentaro: I am not yet done with that actually. Though I may give it to you in a few days. The first of April perhaps?

Kosuke: Yes. That works.

Gentaro: Also, about that cover.

Kosuke: Yes?

Gentaro: That was a lie. A simple design will do.

Kosuke: A-Ah. I see. . .

Gentaro: I will be off then. do enjoy the cake.

Kosuke: Wait what?!

Sever: Here you go sir. This was paid in advance.

[Door closes]

Gentaro: Now then, to see what unfolds.

Gentaro’s story: A young lady is to meet with her friend at a cafe when a stranger takes a seat beside her. He pretends to be her boyfriend as he claims he is being followed by numerous admirers. Along the way, they bond and find they went to the same school. Her friends however do not like him and in the end they must separate. Along the way, there are hints as to something must be off. Turns out, the man was indeed a highschool classmate whom she had a rush with, but one who was ostracized by her friends and moved away. Her visit to the cafe is for the last place she saw him, where he rejected her before he left.

Gentaro: Such an tragic tale, to feel the stings of love is truly a misfortune thing—

Emiko: There you are! Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

Gentaro: Speaking of.

Gentaro: I know not of this Yumeno you speak of young lady. I am merely a poor, homeless young man who has spent the very last sum of his money to buy these outdated clothes and some bitter coffee.

Gentaro: Do you really not have anything better to do than disturb the unfortunate?

Emiko: Huh? Homeless? But you’re said-ooooh! You’re lying right? Sorry Yumeno-sama but cha can’t fool me! ~ ☆

Emiko: So you found me ‘cause Ramuda needed a favor right? Where is he? Is he hiding?

Gentaro: About that, Ramuda’s not here, that was a lie. I just said that to get you here. For an informant you’re not very cautious are you?

Emiko: Hey! I can be cautious! You just don’t seem suspicious. But why do you need me Yumeno-sama? Doooo you want me to find someone?

Gentaro: You’re close but not quite. I actually need you to accompany someone for awhile. They’re waiting inside for you right now. Oh and take this with you, [hands slip of paper] the table number is on the back. But do not open it until you meet him.

Emiko: An escort job? I don’t think I’ve done that before, but it sounds like fun. Okay, you can leave it to me! Bye bye Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

[walks inside the cafe as Gentaro leaves]

Emiko: Whooooa~ It feels really homey in here, so cute!

Emiko: Hmmmm, table #6. I wonder what this guy is li—

Kosuke: ? ? ?

Emiko: ? ? ?

Emiko: Kosuke! [glomps him] Hello! What’s up! What’cha eating? Is it yummy? Can I have some!

Kosuke: Ah! Emiko-san! Um, yes, this is very good, and you can certainly have some if you’d like. [slides over plate]

Emiko: Really? Thank you! ~ ♡

Kosuke: Why are you here by the way? Do you have business with Ramuda-san?

Emiko: Well I actually owe Ramuda a favor, but I guess Yumeno-sama’s the one giving me a job today. What about you?

Kosuke: Ah! I had a meeting with Yumeno-sensei about a book cover of his. It seems that Ramuda-san recommended me to him.

Emiko: Cool cool! ~ ☆ Then that makes this way easier, ‘cause you’re actually my assignment today. Yumeno-sama said I have to escort you somewhere.

Kosuke: Escort. . .me? To where?

----------

Natsuki: I don’t get why you had to drag me along with you.

Haruto: Because an unknown number told me about where Ko-chan was and he might have a stalker.

Natsuki: This makes us the stalkers you numbnut.

Haruto: Dude, looks like he’s on a date with that cutesy Harajuku leader girl. . .

Natsuki: What?!

----------

Seiichi: Look I’m sure she’s fine. Emiko’s a tough girl, she can handle herself.

Hiroshi: That much is clear. But she’s not one to run off with a client without blabbing about it first. Plus whoever called us here clearly has ulterior motive, it could be them.

Seiichi: They did sound pretty sketchy, but it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with befo—

Seiichi: Dude, look at that window. That cafe over there!

Hiroshi: Yes, it’s just a cafe. What’s so special about—Is that her? With, Akihabara’s leader??

Seiichi: Wait is she on a date?!

----------

[they opened up Gentaro’s paper in suprise]

Emiko: . . .

Kosuke: . . .

Kosuke: . . . “Have an enjoyable date?”. . . Oh. . . This was a setup. . . What do we do?! I mean- you’re getting paid for this and I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get money but- why?! You’re like a sister!

Emiko: Eeeeeh?! A date! Like a date date! But you’re like my big brother! I don’t want you to have to pay for this. 💦 Plus I’ve never been on a date before! Ramuda are you in on this too?!

Kosuke: Ahhhhhhh. . . this is really bad! What do we do?! Does just hanging out here count?!

Emiko: I-I don’t know! Maybe! *turns beet red* U-umm. . . . . . . . . *goes quiet & looks down*

Kosuke: I’m not really the type to use swear words, but. . .

----------

Haruto: Hey, Natsu. I think Kosuke’s actually flirting with her. She’s blushing like crazy. (whistles) who knew Ko-chan could do such a thing.

Natsuki: You must be seeing things, besides, finish your food. We need to go, I don’t have all day.

——

Seiichi: Are they actually flirting?? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that embarrassed.

Hiroshi: Hmph, together or not that fiend better not try anything.

Seiichi: Well, if this is really the client then maybe we should stay out of it.

Hiroshi: *sighs* I suppose you’re right, but I still want to know about that number—. . . Don’t look now, but do try to hold your temper.

Seiichi: Oi what temper! What are you looking at anyways? Huh? . . . It’s the other guys from Akihabara!

Hiroshi: I thought I told you to hold your temper. 💦 Now you’ve given us away.

Natsuki: Oh look, we’re just a squad of stalkers.

Haruto: Natsu! Don’t call us that!

Seiichi: He he he, stalker squad. Not bad coming from you losers!

Hiroshi: Well that’s one way to start things off. If I may add, what exactly are you two doing here.

Natsuki: My little brother got a text telling him where Kosuke was with a photo. He got scared and came over. Judging from things though, we were all just chess pieces for someone’s amusement.

Haruto: Yeah! It was a creepy message tho!

Natsuki: And I was dragged along, though I believe that if a certain someone thought things through, he could have reasoned that Kosuke is more than capable of defending himself.

Hiroshi: Hmm. Unfortunately, I’ll have to agree with you. We got a call not too long ago from an unknown saying Emiko was helping a friend. They too sent us a picture of where she was, at this very location.

Seiichi: So does that mean someone’s stalking them both? More importantly, are they really dating?!

Hiroshi: I can hardly see that as more important, but it seems we have two mysteries to solve.

Natsuki: That implies us four working together.

Haruto: Awww! Give em a little chance!

Natsuki: Don’t you dare go a tirade about going with the flow and disregarding everything else.

Haruto: I don’t do that! Much. . .

Seiichi: *whispers* Oh great, this must be my lucky day.

Hiroshi: Enough Seiichi, it appears we have no choice. However, do try to keep your brother on a short leash, boy.

Natsuki: Same goes for you old man, except this time it’s your ward.

Haruto: Geeze Natsu, you’re real riled up.

Natsuki: Oh. I’m sorry, not my fault the geezer’s insufferable.

Hiroshi: Right back at you.

Seiichi: Tch. You guys are one to talk! Especially that barking dog of yours!

Natsuki: If you want to lump us together then either stop calling me a child, or call yourself one.

Haruto: Rude! I ain’t a dog! Though they are really nice and fun to play with. . . so. . .

Hiroshi: So the little mocking bird finally speaks. Truly an incredible sight.

Seiichi: Pfffft ha ha ha! Are you really that dumb! You know I’m trashing ya right!

Natsuki: Last time I checked, it’s not me who’s constantly stuck in rut. And also, next time, try to choose a bird species that wasn’t helpful in Darwin’s theory of evolution hm?

Haruto: Hey! Aren’t you a bit too young to go trash talking everyone? Like I dunno, wait for like a competition of somethin’ I guess. Throwing hands isn’t the only way to solve your problems kid.

[cafe doors burst open]

Emiko: Wait wait please don’t fight! What’s going on out here!

Kosuke: This is in public! Please be careful!

Alley Catz: ! ! !

DayBreakers: ! ! !

Emiko: *tearing up* Why are you guys fighting about noooooow! This is embarrassing! ~

Seiichi: Not this again! 😰 P-Please don’t cry.

Hiroshi: Y-Yes, forgive the intrusion m’lady.

Kosuke: I certainly look forward to your excuse as to why you’re practically fighting on the streets.

Natsuki: . . . Haruto

Haruto: u-um... I uhh, was scared?

Emiko: What have I told you guys about starting fights? I can tell you started it too, bullies. Bleeeeeh! *sticks out tongue*

Kosuke: How does one. . .nevermind. Scared for what.

Haruto: Your safety duh! Some creep sent a pic of you and your location. And now we come to see you on a date!

Hiroshi: Right, we’re here for that very same reason. Someone called us claiming they knew where you were and we thought you might be in danger.

Seiichi: I knew you were fine but we didn’t know you were on a date with the beanpole!

Kosuke: Wait! No! It’s not a date! I was here on business!

Natsuki: Stop letting him call you a beanpole first.

Emiko: It is not a date! At least not a real one . . . *blushes* Look I’ll explain later ok! Plus, Kosuke’s not a beanpole, he’s cute just the way he is Seiichi!

Seiichi: That’s not what I meant. 💦

Kosuke: Oh! I don’t find anything offensive in that! It’s just a nickname!

Natsuki: Where’s your pride and self presevation?

Haruto: I think we all know where that is Natsu.

Natsuki + Haruto: Nonexistent.

Kosue: *blushes* (mumbles) I’m not that bad about it. . .

Emiko: *blushes* A-anyways, go home you two! Or else. . o-or else. . . Just go! And no more stalking!

-----------

Kosuke: hm? A package? Oh! The summary!

Kosuke: “Ruby Chocolate. Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Kosuke: . . . Well, it is my job.

-----------

Emiko: Yay! Package for me! Wait, I didn’t order a book. Did I?

Emiko: “Ruby Chocolate” “Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Emiko: Aww how cute. This is from. . . Yumeno-sama! *blushes* Wait a second he really did set us up!

-----------

Gentaro: *sipping tea* What a wonderful birthday present I have given myself.

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic imagines #gentaro yumeno #hypnosis mic oc #daybreakers #alley catz #kosuke furuhata #natsuki morikawa #haruto morikawa #emiko akaibara #hiroshi sakura #seiichi asagao

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Please read the whole thing ❤️

Hey everyone, Zannah here.

I’ve taken some time and stepped away from this platform after all the drama that happened a month or so ago, and in that time I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Thank you all so much, for your kindness and support in allowing me to unplug for a little while, I really needed that break just for my own sanity. I hope that in this time, you all have been doing as well as you can in this very stressful year. I’d like to take this brief moment and thank my most dear friends who have been my rock. This experience has shown me that good friends, truthful friends, are hard to come by. If you have them, please make sure they know how much you love them.

You know, I’ve been on this platform for just about ten years. For a few of those years, I’ve been here in the AD community, and I can honestly say I’ve never had a more negative experience in my life, from the actions that I’ve witnessed and experienced. I stayed away from people I didn’t like, I didn’t read fic I didn’t like, I avoided content and artwork that upset me, because I’m an adult. And foolishly I was expecting others to do the same, because as I always say, your internet experience is up to you to cultivate. You are responsible for no one else’s actions other than your own.

I’ve dealt with people coming into my inbox condemning me for the way I interpret fictional characters from day one. I’ve dealt with people calling me slurs and names, telling me to kill myself, telling me they were going to kill me themselves, that I deserve awful unspeakable things, for not agreeing with the way that they interpret a fictional character. Those were all easy to ignore, because they were always, always either about my Jewishness, or about the Jewishness of my characters, and I have no time for bigots, I just don’t.

People got angry with me for having boundaries in not wanting to write certain things, or for not wanting to write them in the specific way that they wanted me to. People got angry with me for being frustrated, that time and time again I was being treating as some writing machine and not a person, by them not giving me the basic respect of checking the small list of tropes and themes I’m uncomfortable writing which I’ve made so accessible every time. Time and time again I became frustrated, being asked questions that I’ve made clear on so many occasions, that I was uncomfortable answering, or held negative opinions of.

And that was frustrating, because it was a level of entitlement I’d never seen before – people wanted my writing, but only if it satisfied their needs with little regard to my own feelings, and called me a bully when I didn’t comply. Still, it was just about the writing, and I could ignore that.

But then, strangers started getting angry with me because I had blocked them for whatever reason from seeing my content. Strangers got angry with me for standing up for myself when people tried to pull stunts in the inbox. When people asked me for advice or my opinion on a whole assortment of topics, they said I was being a bully because they didn’t like what I had to say. A difference of opinion is not a personal attack, but it seems as though many people haven’t grasped that concept. People said I was betraying others’ trust by answering anonymous asks on the internet, something that has exactly 0 risk or stakes in sending. People said I was a bitch when I tried to offer genuinely constructive and critical responses. People got angry that I blocked their IP address for sending me unwanted, anonymous, negative hot takes that I didn’t ask for, nor that I cared about. People said I never took accountability for anything, when in reality they just wanted me to change my mind about certain topics, and got angry when I held true to my convictions.

I hope you can all imagine why I didn’t respond pleasantly. Like every content creator on this website and on any website, we don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t owe anyone writing, I don’t owe anyone answers, I don’t owe anyone attention or time. And something that I’ve learned most of all, is that I don’t owe people the pleasure of indulging in flame wars that get brought to my feet. I am not interested in wasting my time trying to defend myself and my good name, against people who have already made up their mind about me from a few misunderstandings, a single interaction, or a one-sided and angry perspective. I’m not interested in wasting my time over things that I know in my heart, aren’t true.

One thing people sometimes tell me, is that I was “rude to a perfectly genuine anon.” I would like to say this; there is absolutely no way for me to know the intention of any anon, other than the way the message comes across. And I’ll be the first to admit, often intention is misinterpreted! When that happens and the person reaches out, I always, every time, have apologized. And just as easy as it is for me to misinterpret someone’s genuine ask as rude or offensive, it is easy for my genuine responses to be interpreted as rude or clipped. Tone is difficult over the internet -- tone is difficult in text where these people are anonymous strangers and I have no idea who they are or with which intentions they’re coming from.

That being said, people can still say hurtful things without the intention of doing so. People have said unintentionally hurtful things to me, and I now realize that I have said things which have been hurtful to others. Good intentions mean nothing, when real hurt and pain is caused. To those people, I would like to give a genuine and sincere apology. I hope, as all I can ever do is hope, that folks here know I never come from a place of malice. Moving forward, I will do my best to respond in ways that I hope will come across as respectful as possible, even when disagreeing. I believe the only legitimate form of apology is changed behavior, and I intend to make that change so that this space can be more inclusive and welcoming, as I have only ever wished it to be.

Because, well, I like to think that we have made a welcoming and inclusive space, a space where we are able to respect one another’s boundaries. I am just one person, just a girl with a blog on the internet who has tried to forge a community of peers and friends. I am not a politician with a PR team approving my every post, there are no mods here to help me interact with you guys. I’m just a girl who writes fanfic and posts it on the internet. I write fanfic that makes me happy, that I’m proud of, for me, and I am happy to share it with you. Especially because through that fanfic, I’ve met incredible wonderful people, and I’m thankful for all of you.

Through having this blog, I’ve met people that I consider to be lifelong friends -- people that I plan on building a future with, and for that I’m forever grateful. I’ve met people who have become inspired to write their own fanfic or start their own blogs, and even when it’s a subject matter that’s not something I’m interested in or one that I personally don’t like, I have always, always been encouraging. Because this is a hobby, this is something people should be doing for fun, because they want to, and no other reason. So when I see claims that “I’ve forced people to quit writing” or someone saying “I quit the fandom because of you”, I know that that’s simply not true. The only way you quit writing is by not writing anymore. It may feel better to blame someone for the reasons why, but no one can make you do anything except yourself.

Similarly, I’ve seen people saying that I’ve “ruined their favorite character” and to that all I have to say is what I’ve always been saying; if you don’t like my writing, you don’t have to read it. If you don’t like my interpretation of characters, you don’t have to consume the content I put out. If you don’t like my opinions, you don’t have to follow me. People don’t “ruin characters” for anyone else, when you simply avoid the content you don’t like, and focus on (or make) the content you do like.

Have I been confused when someone shares my story with a tag that didn’t make sense and so I reached out to them privately to address the issue? Yes.

Have I expressed my negative feelings about fics and the trends of fandom in the comfort and boundaries of my own blog, in posts that I remove when I felt that they no longer were worth keeping up? Yes.

Have I expressed my concerns regarding certain tropes, themes and kinks, opinions formed by my own firsthand experience with them, coupled with the potential damaging effects they may have on a young and impressionable audience like some of those in this fandom? Yes.

I don’t deny any of these things, because I am not ashamed of any of these things. You don’t have to like it, but that does not make me a monster, nor does it make me a tormenter of this fandom as I have been called.

Tormenting people in fandom is making long scathing posts publicly blasting someone because you’re angry that they blocked you. Or making long public callout posts to warn others in the fandom of my many crimes – crimes which actually aren’t crimes at all – and whipping up a frenzy of frothing at the mouth hate. Or reblogging a post and hijacking it with long commentary about something that has nothing to do with you in an attempt to shame the original poster. Or getting screenshots of private conversations where someone is joking with a person who they once thought was a friend, that are taken out of context and framing them to fit a narrative you’re spinning against them. That’s torment.

This fandom has the most vicious and warped mob mentality that I have ever seen. I’ve seen it in the treatment of Adam and Joanne, I’ve seen it in the treatment of John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran. I’ve seen it in the treatment of other bloggers, and well, I can say I’ve seen it and experienced it myself. I worry for the future of the fandom, when this sort of behavior is rewarded and celebrated, because people are so quick to simply agree with someone’s impassioned anger instead of thinking critically for themselves.

However (and this is the ‘but’ of the whole post), I cannot make this post and make all these statements without saying that this community has also been a place of kindness and support and acceptance, and I’m genuinely touched by everyone who has ever gone out of their way to talk to me. I thought long and hard about deleting this blog. I thought about just packing up and leaving our corner of the web, or moving to other platforms. I even put out a little announcement on my ao3 that I was done, I was out of here. But it didn’t sit right with me. It didn’t feel right to abandon all the incredibly beautiful, talented, welcoming, supportive and kind people that had found some peace in this corner of the web. I was absolutely blown away by the sweet messages that were sent to my inbox, and my DMs, the posts that were circulated written by friends and strangers alike literally brought me to tears.

I know that many people here do not like me, and want nothing to do with me, and that’s okay. I know that my content is not for everyone, my opinions are not going to be lined up with everyone else’s, that’s okay too. People have not liked me from the beginning lol, that’s nothing new to me. I have always said, that I would continue to write even if no one read my stuff, and that’s still true. You are in charge of your internet experience, follow the people and consume the content that makes you happy, and block out the things that don’t.

If you are reading this and you are one of the kind people, one of the supportive and understanding people who are on my side, I cannot say thank you enough. The time I took away made me realize that there are much larger problems in the world than strangers on the internet having negative opinions about me, and that kindness will always be more powerful than hate. The community we have built together means more to me than the bullshit other people try and start.

So, all of this is to say, that I’m back.

Some things are going to be a little different around here; I’m very very sorry I know I said I would never do this but I’ve turned the anonymous function off for the time being just for the sake of my sanity, and I’ve updated my FAQ. Writing will no longer be posted directly to tumblr, but rather a redirect link from AO3 will be posted making all tag-list requests null and void.

But other things will remain the same. We’re still going to have sleepovers, I’m still going to accept prompts (but please give me some time before we get back to sinday, as I’m still in a little bit of unease about all of this). I’m still going to be talking about my personal AU, and I’m still going to be uploading fanart and gifs and memes and shitposts and answering your questions and giving you the love you all have shown to me over the years.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for giving me the time to say my peace. I know it’s a long post, but I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for quite some time, and I’m relieved to finally express them. Please know that my posting this isn’t intended to stir up anything, or cause any drama, or relive any pain.

I just missed you all very dearly. I hope that we can move onward and upward together, a babbushka 2.0 of sorts. It’s an exciting time to be in this fandom, and I am looking forward to experiencing everything together.

I’m sending you all of my love.

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jeonchan26 · 4 years

Text

Love Me Not(Park Jimin)

Theme; Angst

Warnings; Heartbreak, Saddness. Super Low Self-Esteem.

Summary; You are used to the heartbreak. Why did you think this time was going to be different?

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“Jimin, What are you doing here?” You opened the door and were surprise to see your boyfriend of 3 years on the other side. Don’t get it wrong you were happy to see him but usually he tells you before hand he is coming over. Due to his idol life.

“Hey babe, I’m sorry I just pop out of nowhere” Jimin said walking into your house, to the living room and sitting down on the couch.

“I don’t mind. We haven’t seen each other in weeks. I’m glad you are here. I miss you so much” you rod him while snuggling close to him. You love Jimin, he was your everything. After years of heartbreak you finally found the one you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

You felt Jimin stiff next you when you went to give him a kiss, with a confused look you asked, “Everything okay Jimin?”

You noticed how Jimin was looking anywhere but you. He was playing with his hands. You knew what it meant you have dealt with it in the pass, you felt your heart dropped to you stomach and you took in a deep breath preparing yourself for what is about to come.

“I’m sorry (y/n), you know I never wanted to hurt you right?” Jimin finally looked up at you. You saw it in his eyes, the guilt, the shame, the hurt every single emotion. You looked down at your hands scared to for the next words that were going to come out sooner or later.

You heard Jimin sigh, “I think we should break up.”

There it was. You were surprise that you even heard him, it was such a low whisper that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Oh umm, why? Did I do something wrong?” You asked looking at your hands covering your face, scared to show him the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“No, of course not.” Jimin took your hands in his, you love the feeling of his hands on yours. They felt like they belong there but once again you were left broken.

“I just, I just think it would be for the best. You know I love you but umm. I’m so sorry. I have to be honest with you.” You heard him say. Here is the moment of truth.

“I found someone else” There it was, you were so used to those words but coming from Jimin just broke whatever strength you had left.

“Oh, I see.” You whisper, wiping your tears.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you (y/n). I just happened. I didn’t cheat on you before you start thinking I did. I still love and care about you, but it isn’t the same anymore. We barely see each other and with my job it just makes it harder. She was there when I needed someone and I knew that I couldn’t keep doing this to you. Hurting you was never ever my intention.”

At this point you were crying, covering your face with your hands. You thought Jimin was the one for you, finally after every heartbreak you went through, Jimin was your happily ever after.

“Please say something” Jimin was trying to get you to look at him but you couldn’t.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears, you looked up at him and you noticed the tears slipping from his eyes. You wiped them away, “I’m really sorry (y/n) I never wanted to hurt you” He said. looking at you with shame all over his face. He was the reason you were hurting.

“It’s okay Jimin, I’m used to it. You aren’t the first guy to walk out on me. Ha I should of seen it coming though. You are this big idol and I’m just a regular girl that just graduated community college. Why would you be with someone like me? You aren’t the first guy, every guys I dated or was interested in sooner or later left me for someone way better. Ha I thought this time it was different but who am I kidding I would never be good enough for you” Your heart was hurting, you felt like someone was stabbing it.

Jimin looked torn as soon as those words left your mouth, he knew about your past and how insecure you were about your relationship with him. He did the one thing he promised he would never do because you were it for him. He never picture falling for the new girl working at BigHit.

“Does she make you happy?” You asked looking at your hands.

“Umm, yea” you heard him say.

“Oh okay then...I will pack my things and leave”

“No, you can stay here. This is more your home than it ever was mine.” It’s like every word coming out of his mouth was tearing you apart.

“Umm maybe just until I can go back to the (y/h/t). There’s nothing for me here anyways.” You said getting up from the couch walking to the other side of the room staring at your picture with him. You guys looked so happy, you chuckled taking a deep breath you looked back him.

“i’m glad your happy, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you. But I do wish you the best” You said.

“You are more than enough (y/n). Don’t ever think you weren’t because you are the most amazing girl I have ever met. You are caring, loving, beautiful just everything a guy would die for-”

“But yet I wasn’t enough for you or anybody else in my past. Someone better always comes in and takes away what I love the most. There must be something wrong with me” You cut him off.

“(y/n)-” Jimin sigh trying to pull you close to him.

“No Jimin, its okay really. Like I said I’m used to it, you aren’t the first guy to break up with me for that reason. I think you should go, she is probably waiting for you. I wish you the best Jimin, I swear I am so happy for you. Seeing you happy is enough for me. Please lock the door on your way out.” You place a kiss on his cheek, tears streaming down his eyes.

You walked away to your now room, and locked the door sliding down bringing your knees to your chest. Crying your eyes out you heard the door open and close. You knew Jimin left and now you were officially alone, broken and ashamed that you couldn’t be enough for him.

Days passed and you finally decided to get out and get some fresh air. being stuck in the house was suffocating everything reminding you of him. You missed him but you knew that he was happy with someone else. You went to the park and sat down on the bench with your music playing on full blast. You were watching the people walk past you laughing and enjoying their life while you were hurting inside.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands thinking of how shitty your life became to be. Taking another deep breath you looked up again only to caught a sight you weren’t ready to see, at least not yet.

There he was laughing and holding hands with his new girl. His friends smile and messing around him just having a good time. You and Jimin could never make your relationship public and seeing him with her in the opened, happy was stab to your heart. You dated Jimin for three years and not once where you allowed to make it public with him. It has only been a few days that he left you and is now holding hands with another girl showing her off to the world.

“Was he ashamed of you? Is that why he left you because you weren’t good enough for him? Fuck why does it hurt so much?” You thought.

You saw they were walking your direction, you got up quickly and start to walk fast trying to get away before they saw you. You knew that they wouldn’t care if they saw you. It’s been days and none of the boys have texted or call to ask how you were but why would they? They were Jimin’s friends not yours.

You were trying to get a away from them that you didn’t notice a group of guys walking towards you, bumping into you dumping one of the guys coffee all over you.

“WTF! CAN’T YOU WATCH WERE YOU GOING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The guys that had his coffee spilled all over you screamed at you trying to wipe away some that landed on him.

“Oh My God Im so sorry! I didn’t noticed where I was going.” You told him trying to clean him off a bit but he pushed you off him. At this point everybody was staring at the scene infront of them including Jimin and his friends. His girlfriend had left during the time you were running away.

“Don’t fucking touch me you stupid girl. Don’t you see what you have done. You got coffee all over my clothes! You better pay for this!” He said glaring at you. Compared to him he only had a few small drops on his jacket, you on the other hand were cover from head to toe in coffee.

“I’m really sorry! It was an accident. I swear I’ll pay for the dry cleaning!” You told him looking down at your hands.

“You’re worthless piece of shit. How can you be so stupid. What goes in that stupid head of yours.” The guys said while poking you on your head.

You just took in whatever he told you, there was not point on fighting with him. No matter how many times you apologize it wasn’t enough for the guy. You felt his poking stopped when you looked up you saw a very angry Jimin grabbing his hand and glaring at the guy and his friends.

“Is that any way to treat a lady?” Jimin said through his teeth. The rest of the members were behind him glaring at the guys. Jimin pushed his hand away from your head.

“This isn’t any of your business man.” The guys said dusting off his coat.

“The moment you laid your hand on her in a public space it became my business.” Jimin said stepping in front of you.

“Whatever man, she is just a worthless girl. Why do you care?” He said folding his arms across his chest.

“Man you sure have a mouth on you don’t you. Just get out of here before we do something we regret.” You heard Jungkook said standing next to you. The guys looked at you one last time before walking away. You finally let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“(y/n) are you okay?” Jimin asked turning to face you. You looked at the rest of the members them looking at you with pity before your eyes landed on Jimin.

“Oh umm yea, thank you! I should go” You tried walking away, Jimin got a hold of your wrist holding you back.

“(y/n) wait” Jimin said looking at you noticing how skinnier and paler you have gotten in only a few days. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

You pulled away from him, pulling your wrist close to you. “I’m fine Jimin, you don’t have to worry about me”

“You know I still care about you.” He whispered only for you and the members to hear.

“Don’t okay? I’m fine. I’m not your concerned anymore.” You said while looking at him with teary eyes. You hated yourself for being so weak when it came to him.

“(y/n)” You cut him off. “Just stop okay, stop acting like you care about me. You don’t, thank you standing up for me but I’m fine. I don’t need you. Please excuse me” You said finally walking away from him, running towards your house. You knew it was a mistake to leave your house.

Should I Make Part 2? What do you guys think?

Sorry for the Angst, I’m an angst person lol But I won’t lie I teared up a bit writing this story. We all know out boys are sweet angels, this is just a made up story.

#park jimin #jimin #BTS jimin #jimin angst #park jimin angst #bts angst #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #Jimin series #jimin scenario #bts scenarios

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toostupidtolivetoosmarttodie · 4 years

Text

I’m still not where to start but I’m going to try.

My name is Jesse. I’m 21, I’m trans masc nonbinary, in my final Year of college for my IT Support degree. But that doesn’t matter.

Some of you have known about me for a few days, some of you have known about me for a few years. Like Josey and Danny.

But what you need to know is that I’m human. And I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve never been good on social cues, especially over the media of text. I’ve always been better to explain myself audibly but I’m trying here.

I’ve been manipulative, narsassitic, and an asshole. I’ve made people uncomfortable and feel unsafe. I’m full of myself and choke on my pride. I have a police record for an ongoing case. One of which, is still going on, and the charges have changed, due to more information. It doesn’t matter what, but my “arrest charges” (I turned myself in) are different from what I’m currently fighting through. Changed for the better.

I have hurt a lot of people. Be it on purpose or on accident. I’m overly aggressive and forward without picking up on social cues that I make people uncomfortable. That being said, I don’t realise I’m doing it. I still don’t realise I’m doing it. Some of the few friends I have left, are well aware that if I do something wrong, you need to tell me. You need to yell at me, I need to be scolded.

I have adhd, bipolar, depresison, anxiety, ptsd, I’ve been sexually assaulted my freshman year in highschool. I’ve been dealt some seriously bad cards. I’m neurodivergant, I need guidance. Literally. In social situations, I used to stick out like a sore thumb because I was so hyper active, I’m such a burden. My emotions control me. And I’m self aware about that. I let my emotions and my impulse control get the better of me. I have hurt people because of that. I have BULLIED people because of that. I have turned groups on individuals because of that.

When I fear I’ve hurt someone I do all in my power to get them to hate me and abandon me. So that I don’t feel bad that I hurt them. I did that with a girl named Courtney, earlier this year. I lost 7 friends, because I didn’t want to admit what I did was wrong. And I know what I did was wrong.

I live in an emotional abusive household, with a controlling mother. I’m trying so hard to break away to being like her, and as my best friend has said, “I can see you trying, but you need to work harder.” I know I do. And I’m scared. I fear every day for change, I just want to disappear and run away.

Overall, I’m sorry for what I have done to everyone I’ve met, and anyone who knows about me. My mental illness nor my home situation excuses my actions. I’ve been a horrible person. I was worse when I was 14, but I still haven’t gotten better. I’m still not great. All the actions I have made, I made with no regrets at the time. But right now I know there are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done. That no one should do. I’m only human. But I can try to get better.

I’ve apologised personally to miki, the one who made the original post. She encouraged me to try one more time to apologise. I don’t like to apologise to a general public, I like to apologise personally, because it means more to me.

But this is my public apology. If anyone who I’ve made uncomfortable or hurt sees this, I’m begging you to messages me before the end of this week. I want you to have closure. And I want to apologise to you. Granted, I still need specifics for each person of what I’ve done, so I can reflect and acknowledge. But I want to try.

I’m so tired. But I’m trying.

I’m really so sorry for everything, genuinely.

#jesses thots #apex legends #j.exe #princelymagik #himboking

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dyalinohera · 3 years

Text

An Open letter to Quippy.

Through the various relationships in my life, I have learned a lot about trauma through learning everything I could about various mental issues because the after-effects of my own personal trauma were preventing me from living life normally. I was lucky enough to have family members, be blood or found (or a little of both), who have always tried to help me and love me very much.

Recently in my life, I lost a good friend to a misunderstanding during a PTSD episode and their partner took that opportunity to swoop in, gaslight myself and another good friend of mine. Before this moment, I only knew a few things about this partner. ONE. My friend.... Let's call them Q.... was not having sex with this person but they were in a romantic relationship. TWO. They sometimes had fights and Q admitted so to me. Three. About a week or so prior their partner admitted that they were being abusive towards Q in various ways. No details.

After having been subjected to a gaslighting attempt, my other friend P actually crying, and then Q threatening to kill themselves... Well. I blocked them both and ran for the hills. I did have a private private server with Q and I could have reached out to them at a later date, but I could smell the badnews rolling off of F (the partner).

About a month or so after this event I received a message from Q (on Christmas day like a wonderful puzzle to work over) and I discovered something horrible. Abuse victims will mirror the abuser's maladaptive control techniques and further become entrenched in the Abuser's guiles.

Below is that message. I have removed any names pertaining to those whom I have dubbed 'P', 'Q', and 'F' from this message. Any text prefaced with ( and ends in ) are my own comments on what did and did not happen while pointing out each tactic used to try to scare, confuse, and manipulate me in some way.

I am not a healthcare professional of any kind. I can’t diagnose disorders. I simply have learned how to identify abusive tactics from the counseling I have received for PTSD.

And finally, before we break down this wonderful message, I would like to dedicate this to those who are being gaslighted right now and I pray this essay finds you somehow.

Making It Clear That If Any Distress Comes To Any Other Parties Because Of This Message Then It Will Be Because You Dragged Them Into This. You Will Shoulder That Blame, Not Us. Remember How You Thought We Should Have More Control Over When And Where We Have A Crisis? Practice What You Tried To Preach With Your Reactions To This Message.

(This right here is an excellent show of blame-shifting, gaslighting, and emotional manipulation to throw their victim off and start questioning themselves.)

To:[Redacted] [Also referred to as "recipient" or simply "you"— as the term will only be used to refer to the recipient for the purposes of this message. Only exception to this being quotes taken directly from the recipient's own messages.] From: [Redacted] [also referred to as "system" or "us/we" for the purposes of this message]

(This Legal jargon is used to make the sender feel more secure and righteous in their anger, which is very much from being scared, pulling power away from the intended recipient.)

This Notice Was Written After The Messages You Decided To Delete Before We Saw Them, Which Leaves Us Only To Assume That They Were Harassing In Nature. That Is Why This Message Is Being Sent. We Wish To State Our Intent In No Uncertain Terms In Order To Avoid Any Possible Misunderstandings. You Will Receive No Further Communication From The System Unless It Is In Order To Inform You Of Actions Being Taken Against You.

Due to the fact that you were intent on:

Blaming the system for being in crisis

Expecting a person/system who had been sent into crisis by an attack to be the one to carry full responsibility even when unaware of key information and still being actively attacked.

(I never did any of these things. What I did was say that a public chat server in discord with people who are emotionally sensitives, me included, was not the correct action and upon them threatening to take their own life, I was sent into a state of fear and reacted with aggression. Was this a smart thing for me to do? I have no idea but it was what I did.)

Refusing to re-read the very exchange you were attacking the system over in order to see that the system had not been given the information you were insistent they had been given and were attacking them over.

“I am not text shuffling for exact proof. They made it clear that it was affecting them negatively.” "The moment they spoke up about internalizing the guilt is the moment it should of stopped." “[Redacted] said. That they felt it was their fault.” "They said they felt it was their fault."

(I had two chats going on with the poor P who was watching this System go into a severe PTSD episode and lash out at everything around them. I got confused in my panic HOWEVER I was correct in saying that this system was not right in going into that chat and doing that, not because it hurt someone else, though it is apart of it, but because it is a dangerous state to be in. Please note that the text Q is quoting is from my chat with F. Q is F’s mouthpiece now.)

Refusing to acknowledge that you were wrong even after discovering that the information you were attacking the system for ignoring was actually sent to your private messages, not the chat where the system could see said information.

“Okay. They didn’t say what I thought they did. That was in my DMs." "But. I am not gonna talk more of this.”

(Again. This is an attempt to gaslight and invalidate my views and what I did.)

Being a hypocrite by expecting the system to flawlessly read someone while in a blended and unstable state while you, yourself, still drunk dialed the system twice on 08/02/2020 after you had been explicitly told not to do so on 07/24/2020 due to the fact that being drunk dialed causes the system distress.

(I got drunk and sad. I am prone to doing this when upset and I am working on it. HOWEVER. I didn’t say anything on these calls. I only said hi and looked tired. After that, the system did not talk to me for quite some time afterward, but I gave them space and I never made this mistake again. People. If someone keeps bringing this sort of thing up when you have been trying, get away from them. This is a clear sign of abusive tactics. I’ll also go even further in saying that I didn’t even imply that is what SHOULD have happened. I said that was not right. I even told F that Q needed to go to a professional, they are at serious risk and needed help. All I got was excuses. In situations where someone is going through suicidal episodes you have to do everything in your power to get immediate help.)

Ignoring the fact that both times the system was asked if they were okay they told you they weren't yet you still attacked them under false pretenses.

(I was confused and scared at the time due to ya know, someone I care for greatly threatening to kill themselves. SO. Idk)

Acting like you have any idea just how far the system has come from the state they started in a decade and a half ago. You have neither room nor right to even dream of attempting to invalidate anyone's progress. Much less that of those who have survived what you never could have.

(I never did any such thing. I tried to empathize and place myself in their shoes to better understand their struggle because I know what it means to be different with different needs and so forth. I am a compassionate person.)

Attempting to validate your stance after your argument fell apart by claiming you were thinking of leaving anyway. People do not get excited about an increase in activity from those they wish to distance from.

(There were various languages that the system was using that were bothering me but I didn’t say anything because I really cared for them. There was also was a revelation that their romantic partner was abusive and it was brought forth in the public chat. Please keep in mind I was mainly talking to their partner in the end and I decided that for my safety to leave and block both Q and F)

Doing all of this after misleading the system into believing that you were understanding of how difficult it could be for someone to live in a head with people who actively want to kill the body they're in.

(I am still understanding of it. My issue was and will always be the fact that there was a refusal to look at the problem, what they had done, step back, and get help. Because the only thing that was made clear by this message even being sent to me is that I made the right choice to block both Q and F.)

Proving that you need to stay the hell away from abuse survivors because abuse survivors have been blamed for the side effects of survival enough by people like you.

(I never ever blamed abuse survivors for their problems. The system’s abuse is valid, HOWEVER, these past abuses and the unique cognitive issues that come from that trauma does not exempt you from accountability from your actions in or out of high-stress phases. It is up to the individual to find and attempt to get better and stronger from these issues and find solutions that are unique to their situation.)

Any future attempt from the recipient to contact or otherwise interfere with [redacted] or any of said system's alters will be viewed as a hostile act w/ intent to cause further distress and/or harm. Any such attempts will also be viewed as harassment and shall be dealt with via whatever practical — and, when applicable, legal — means deemed necessary. Drunken episodes are not exempt from this and will also be treated as harassing contact. (<Oh my god they really are trying to hammer home I am some form of ‘evil’ just because I was sad and got on camera for a couple of seconds.)

Just remember, we apologized to the one we inadvertently caused distress to. You were far too weak to be able to do so. We even left you unblocked following the incident to give you a chance but all you did was send us messages you obviously thought better of before they got to our machine. Thank you for confirming that we really will be better without you in our lives because we don't need people who can't face their own shortcomings involved with our system. If you cause any member of this system further distress — in any form — then we swear to you that we will use whatever tools we must to contend with you.

(Again, more blame-shifting, bringing up that they apologized without addressing the times I have apologized for the various stupid things I did while dealing with amygdala hijacks and so forth. I’ve been in intense therapy for PTSD and underwent EMDR which entails going over trauma memories in hopes to desensitize the brain so that the fight and flight response isn’t triggered so often. AKA. I have literally gone over very traumatic events, in detail, while doing this therapy. I am an abuse survivor, but Q is very clearly still the victim of current abuse.)

We only hope someone returns the favor to you when your depression is at its very worst.

The account this notice has been sent from will not be signed into again after sending this message on 12/25/2020. Any responses to this notice will go unrecognized.

(And the final last message shows how angry they are at me for leaving a group chat and blocking them. This is from a fear response. A lot of people think that Amygdala is responsible for aggression responses. However, it deals with fear. Aggression and anger is a response to fear. Thus, those who tend to use these abusive tactics are fundamentally scared of not being in control of you. PTSD episodes are called Amygdala Hijack and I am willing to bet Q sent this to me during one.)

Now. For the messages that I had deleted.

It is hard for me to process my emotions. I tend to get bogged in how to say things in my head but when I try to speak or write it all comes out wrong. The original messages were wordy and confusing and… not very good. So here and now, on this space that you the reader walk on, I would like to formally give those messages to Q in simple and clear terms.

Quippy,

I love you.

And I miss you.

Please don’t die.

#tw: gaslighting #tw: DID #TW: PTSD #gaslighting #DID #PTSD #abusive techniques #Abuse victims #abuse Survivors #Please keep in mind that this is meant only as a tool #to identify gaslighting

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witchcraftingboop · 4 years

Text

Further Insight on Briar's Recent Discourse & Prim's Apparent Grooming of Younger, Newer Witches

It was suggested to me that instead of making one long post (which I was genuinely sorry for creating in the moment as well), that I should offer the second half in a separate one so that it is easier to share and harder to simply ignore as a wall of text.

Here is the link to the first half of the current JBird and Briar discourse floating around. I highly encourage everyone involved in the Witchblr community to review both posts and not just this final addition.

Regarding Prim stirring the pot, I actually do have proof of that on my page somewhere if you wouldn't mind my sending it to you? The person I reblogged it from, Mahi, also received death threats from Prim when they were only 16 and Prim was 20 (I can't ask him to share that though because Prim has since used her following to drive him off of Tumblr and he's still fairly [and justifiably] sensitive about it.)

Regarding Briar's statements more specifically though, I can see where the confusion is coming from. After the "in France" part, she's just defining a relevant term (hence the use of "irrelevant details) and then giving an explanation of how she came to be so knowledgeable about that term/concept. I wouldn't say she's calling Prim's activism an "irrelevant detail," but pointing out how Prim uses it as a shield against backlash whenever another blog (not just tradcrafters) calls out her platform. I don't expect you to fully understand or see what I mean when I say that, of course. Because you are still new, and these are habits I've observed of hers from nearly a year of following their interactions. I would, however, like to point out that Briar doesn't say anything racist about Prim and does not once bring up her race. In fact, I think if you read her entire post and not just point 3 as Prim has it cropped out in all of her mentions of it, you would see more fully the depth and amount of frustration Briar is trying to express. Similarly, Briar never threatened to dox Prim. She has, in fact, repeatedly tried to point out that Prim should be protecting her online information and be more aware of how to stop others from finding out about her private life/situation. These statements, however, have since been warped by Prim and her followers to come off as a threat on her life. Briar's statements above aren't a threat of doxxing. She's never once posted Prim's personal information or told others to find it or use it in any way. She has, however, searched for Taglocks on Prim, something witches especially are known to look for. In that search she found more than she was even looking for, despite trying to tell Prim repeatedly to stop being so open online with the information she posts about herself. Doxxing though is not racist. It is something used by them, sure, but it is not inherently racist.

Additionally, Prim has raised money, sure, but I still have not seen any actual receipts as to her *actually* donating it to any public or private organizations. This, for me, is highly suspect. In reality, we still have no idea where that money is. Whereas with Briar, she took no money in for a couple days on her readings and instead merely asked that those requesting a reading first submit proof of donation to an organization linked in the post. She raised substantial money for the BLM movement, but no one seems to want to bring that up in all of their "she's a racist" discourse. Also, the observation that someone is misleading or gaslighting their following is not racist. Just because she said Prim was recently using her BLM reblogs & promotions to do it *this time* still does not make it racist. Questionable wording is just something the reader disagrees with, in my opinion, and should be addressed as such.

I'm not going to lie, I do feel a little frustrated at this point. I was really hoping to come to you and see that you had concrete proof to offer that Briar is a racist. I do understand that you have your own reasons for feeding into the assumptions and twisted outlooks already taken on Briar's words, but I don't have enough energy in me to fully swallow my tongue on this one. I really do hope that you at least consider what I've said here. I'm not sure what I can say at this point because all of the information I've read from you thus far has been purely conjecture or assumptions or just "not feeling right" about the wordings on a single post. A racist, from my perspective, is not something I would ever feel comfortable calling someone off of this lack of evidence.

I understand it is hard to separate preconceived notions from your mind when reading through the words of others, but I really do miss when you were more open to the words of others. If I could ask one thing of you, it'd be to please try to read Briar's post again but from the perspective of seeing it how it was meant to be: a witch who has been on the butt end of Prim's harassment for going on three years now. She is tired of the wild accusations and constantly having to defend herself, and even when she supplied her proof a couple years ago, no one wanted to hear her. She has, largely, given up on being heard, and now screams into what feels like a void when attacked.

Proof of Prim stirring the pot that I offered: An example of Prim actively seeking out the community and trying to stir the pot with an already dealt with situation that had passed over a year ago.

A direct source that I offered as further proof of what has occurred already: This is one from the account mentioned before who was directly involved with the previous discord server where the Trio incident took place a couple years back.

[A Reply.] I think, to be fair, I saw your comments on her previous posts through your main, and with how much aggression you packed into those messages, I don't necessarily blame her for deciding not to engage with your private messages. As I've said, she's very used to people attacking her like that, and in her mind, unfortunately, you've probably been added to the list of aggressive people ready to fling the blame at her rather than look at the situation as a whole. I do apologize for the way her post may have made you feel, but I think it's also important to remember the potentially aggressive things you left on her page (I'm not saying you meant to come off that way, but even I couldn't help but read that way). Also, regarding the ask, it's no small secret that the occultists of the tradcraft group are skilled and well-versed in hexes and curses. When reading her posts about how she may respond to further antagonism on Prim's part, I see a fully realized occultist wielding their most well kept and trained weapon: baneful magic. I'm sure Prim herself also understands that the "threat on her life" she's saying she's so afraid of, isn't a physical threat, but a metaphysical one. She has repeatedly and continually tried to drag these people through the mud, and now that they're refusing to just sit back and be canceled, she's afraid. She knows how strong their magic is, and they aren't shy about it 🤷‍♀️

[A Reply.] No, I completely understand where you're coming from. I, personally, have seen your willingness to talk things through, despite how aggressive you can come off at times in the things you say, so I think that's why I was genuinely so surprised to see your comments on some of her posts. But I do think her response and refusal to further directly engage with you is warranted and her right. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell who is genuinely open to talking and who is just trying to bait and add to the problem. And with how aggressive your comments were, 8 honestly think she most likely was responding from a place of "oh look another young Prim follower here to bait and berate me." I don't think she looks down on you for your age, but her views are likely a reflection of the fact that a lot of 18yos follow Prim and have openly harassed her without even asking for her input on the matter.

At this point, I would like to talk about the second half of the title of this particular post. Grooming. This is a very serious allegation against Prim that I have not spoken on previously because I had no proof that it was happening. With this person's permission, I would like to share how exactly they wound up fighting Prim's battles for her.

I will note: I am highly disgusted by what follows.

[A Reply.] Oh no! You cannot fault yourself for this! Prim is a known manipulator, and the fact that she was able to make you somehow think this is part of your being "gullible and naive" is just testament to the fact that she's gotten wayyy too good at what she does. This is in no way your fault or because of some fault within you. Practiced manipulators are cunning and dangerous even to the best of us. It was unfortunate that she chose you, but her twisting you around is in no way a bad reflection on you as a person!

I've chosen to include my reply to this person rather than our continued discussion because of how personal and involved our conversation turned. I've included it to show, as well, that grooming others to fight your battles is (though this should go without saying) NEVER OKAY. Prim has shown her true colors, in my opinion, and while I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt time and time again, I simply cannot permit myself to ignore the harm and damage she's inflicted on not only the tradcraft community, but also this innocent group of friends. A group who that has hitherto dedicated their time to sussing out predators, terfs, nazis, and racists. A group that should never have had to deal with being gaslit and manipulated by a well-known and respected blogger on this platform.

I cannot reiterate enough how sorry and deeply shocked I am at the information this person has brought to my attention. I am still stunned by Prim's activities and unable to fathom how many other potential individuals are out there being groomed to support and fight for her cause. I am sorry to the Witchblr community as a whole. I feel as if I have sat by and watched as Witchblr has been manipulated and am therefore complacent in the damage and needless hurt that has been allowed to spread throughout our community. I am just so very, very sorry.

I will be taking a couple days off of Tumblr because of this, as I feel as if I need space and time to think, but my inbox is always open and I am always available to speak with others on my return.

#witchblr #witch community #witchblr discourse #discourse #nightshadeandroses #grooming tw #grooming in the witch community #tradcraft #traditional witchcraft #beginner witch #novice witch #baby witch #witch predator #long post #gabrielle #chthoniaa

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dreamer95 · 4 years

Text

Love Me Not

Theme; Angst

Warnings; Heartbreak, Sadness. Super Low Self-Esteem.

Summary: You are used to the heartbreak. Why did you think this time was going to be different?

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“Jimin, what are you doing here?” You opened the door and were surprise to see your boyfriend of 3 years on the other side. Don’t get it wrong you were happy to see him but usually he tells you beforehand he is coming over. Due to his idol life.

“Hey babe, I’m sorry I just pop out of nowhere” Jimin said walking into your house, to the living room and sitting down on the couch.

You felt Jimin stiff next you when you went to give him a kiss, with a confused look you asked, “Everything okay Jimin?”

You noticed how Jimin was looking anywhere but you. He was playing with his hands. You knew what it meant you have dealt with it in the pass, you felt your heart dropped to your stomach and you took in a deep breath preparing yourself for what is about to come.

You heard Jimin sigh, “I think we should break up.”

There it was. You were surprise that you even heard him, it was such a low whisper that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Oh umm, why? Did I do something wrong?” You asked looking at your hands covering your face, scared to show him the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“No, of course not.” Jimin took your hands in his, you love the feeling of his hands on yours. They felt like they belong there but once again you were left broken.

“I just, I just think it would be for the best. You know I love you but umm. I’m so sorry. I have to be honest with you.” You heard him say. Here is the moment of truth.

“I found someone else” There it was, you were so used to those words but coming from Jimin just broke whatever strength you had left.

“Oh, I see.” You whisper, wiping your tears.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you (y/n). I just happened. I didn’t cheat on you before you start thinking I did. I still love and care about you, but it isn’t the same anymore. We barely see each other and with my job it just makes it harder. She was there when I needed someone, and I knew that I couldn’t keep doing this to you. Hurting you was never ever my intention.”

At this point you were crying, covering your face with your hands. You thought Jimin was the one for you, finally after every heartbreak you went through, Jimin was your happily ever after.

“Please say something” Jimin was trying to get you to look at him but you couldn’t.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears, you looked up at him and you noticed the tears slipping from his eyes.

You wiped them away, “I’m really sorry (y/n) I never wanted to hurt you” He said. looking at you with shame all over his face. He was the reason you were hurting.

“It’s okay Jimin, I’m used to it. You aren’t the first guy to walk out on me. Ha I should have seen it coming though. You are this big idol and I’m just a regular girl that just graduated community college. Why would you be with someone like me? You aren’t the first guy, every guy I dated or was interested in sooner or later left me for someone way better. Ha I thought this time it was different but who am I kidding I would never be good enough for you” Your heart was hurting, you felt like someone was stabbing it.

“Does she make you happy?” You asked looking at your hands.

“Umm, yea” you heard him say.

“Oh, okay then…I will pack my things and leave”

“No, you can stay here. This is more your home than it ever was mine.” It’s like every word coming out of his mouth was tearing you apart.

“I’m glad you’re happy, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you. But I do wish you the best” You said.

“You are more than enough (y/n). Don’t ever think you weren’t because you are the most amazing girl I have ever met. You are caring, loving, beautiful just everything a guy would die for-”

“But yet I wasn’t enough for you or anybody else in my past. Someone better always comes in and takes away what I love the most. There must be something wrong with me” You cut him off.

“(y/n)-” Jimin sigh trying to pull you close to him.

“No Jimin, it’s okay really. Like I said I’m used to it, you aren’t the first guy to break up with me for that reason. I think you should go; she is probably waiting for you. I wish you the best Jimin, I swear I am so happy for you. Seeing you happy is enough for me. Please lock the door on your way out.” You place a kiss on his cheek, tears streaming down his eyes.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands thinking of how shitty your life became to be. Taking another deep breath, you looked up again only to caught a sight you weren’t ready to see, at least not yet.

“Was he ashamed of you? Is that why he left you because you were not good enough for him? Fuck why does it hurt so much?” You thought.

You were trying to get away from them that you didn’t notice a group of guys walking towards you, bumping into you dumping one of the guys coffee all over you.

“WTF! CAN’T YOU WATCH WERE YOU GOING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The guys that had his coffee spilled all over you screamed at you trying to wipe away some that landed on him.

“Oh My God I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice where I was going.” You told him trying to clean him off a bit, but he pushed you off him. At this point everybody was staring at the scene in front of them including Jimin and his friends. His girlfriend had left during the time you were running away.

“I’m really sorry! It was an accident. I swear I’ll pay for the dry cleaning!” You told him looking down at your hands.

“You’re worthless piece of shit. How can you be so stupid? What goes in that stupid head of yours?” The guys said while poking you on your head.

You just took in whatever he told you, there was not point on fighting with him. No matter how many times you apologize it wasn’t enough for the guy. You felt his poking stopped when you looked up you saw an incredibly angry Jimin grabbing his hand and glaring at the guy and his friends.

“Is that any way to treat a lady?” Jimin said through his teeth. The rest of the members were behind him glaring at the guys. Jimin pushed his hand away from your head.

“This isn’t any of your business man.” The guys said dusting off his coat.

“The moment you laid your hand on her in a public space it became my business.” Jimin said stepping in front of you.

“Whatever man, she is just a worthless girl. Why do you care?” He said folding his arms across his chest.

“Man, you sure have a mouth on you don’t you. Just get out of here before we do something we regret.” You heard Jungkook said standing next to you. The guys looked at you one last time before walking away. You finally let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“(y/n) are you okay?” Jimin asked turning to face you. You looked at the rest of the members them looking at you with pity before your eyes landed on Jimin.

“Oh, umm yea, thank you! I should go” You tried walking away, Jimin got a hold of your wrist holding you back.

“(y/n) wait” Jimin said looking at you, noticing how skinnier and paler you have gotten in only a few days. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

You pulled away from him, pulling your wrist close to you. “I’m fine Jimin, you don’t have to worry about me”

“You know I still care about you.” He whispered only for you and the members to hear.

“Don’t okay? I’m fine. I’m not your concerned anymore.” You said while looking at him with teary eyes. You hated yourself for being so weak when it came to him.

Should I Make Part 2? What do you guys think?

Sorry for the Angst, I’m an angst person lol But I won’t lie I teared up a bit writing this story. We all know out boys are sweet angels; this is just a made up story.

#park jimin #bts jimin #park jimin scenarios #jimin angst #park jirmin angst #jimin scenarios #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #kim namjoo icons #jung hoseok #bts suga #bts v #bts rm #bt jhope

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