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aspenflower17 · 3 years

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Finding You (Part 17 of ??)

Hello everyone! Thank you all for being so patient! I had pretty bad writers block and couldn’t figure out where I wanted the story to go from the last chapter. I was also dealing with some irl problems as well. It seems like a lot of creators were having the same problems though January and February though. Hopefully March will make everything smooth out! I think I figured out where to go from here (I have the end all planned out, but getting there without ruining the pacing is what’s been giving me problems). I appreciate everyone’s patience while I figured things out, and hopefully I can get back on a normalized schedule!

Anywho, if you’re new to this story and would like to start at the beginning, here’s the link to part 1. Every chapter should have a link to the next part at the end, so hopefully you decide to read it all :D

Tags <3 : @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (I’m not great about putting this on every chapter, but if you want to be added to the tags list, just comment below asking to be added (I don’t want to assume everyone commenting wants a tag so just make sure to mention tag in the comment) or you can send me a DM :) Also, I just went through all the chapters so far and I think I have everyone. If I missed you just remind me and I’ll put you in!)

Word Count: 2566

TW: some angst relating to last chapter but that’s about it

Satan sat in his room, contemplating whether telling Mc about Michael was a good idea or not. It’d been a couple days since she’d come over and he hadn’t heard anything from her. It was worrying him more than he wanted to admit, but he knew from spending a lot of time with her as a human, it would be a better idea for him to leave her alone until she was ready to talk to him. From the way she speaks about him, it’s pretty clear their relationship is a bit strained. Actually, it reminds me a bit of me and Lucifer, though with obvious differences.

While the Avatar of Wrath would never admit it aloud, he did have a kind of respect for Lucifer. It took a different form than anyone else’s mostly because he knew him. All of him. Flaws, strengths, weaknesses, secrets. Well, at least up until his birth. He’d had no idea about Lilith and what Lucifer had done. Lucifer had definitely changed a lot since the Fall, but Satan could generally figure out what he was thinking or how he was going to respond to a situation. So, what was going on with Mc and Michael?

Obviously he didn’t want her talking with him at least. There was probably some fear she’d fall, taking the path of her ancestor but for a being in the Devildom. He couldn’t see any war resulting from her Falling. It would be from her own choice, with no forbidden fruit or humans involved. He was pretty sure Michael didn’t feel anything romantic for her, so it probably wasn’t anything involved in wanting her to stay for him. So why?

He was pulled from his thoughts by his DDD ringing. Hoping it was Mc, he answered by the second ring, “Hello?”

“Congratulations! You’ve won an-” Satan growled and hung up. Stupid solicitor.

There was a knock at his door, “Yo Satan. I got somethin’ for ya’,” Satan sighed, but got up to answer the door. Pulling it open, he saw Mammon and Mc on the other side, “Said she wanted ta talk ta ya. It sounded urgent so…” Mammon smiled a bit apologetically.

“That’s quite alright. Mc, hello. How lovely to see you. Do you want to come in?”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” Mc entered his room as Satan shot daggers through his eyes at Mammon.

“A little warning next time would be nice.”

“Oi! If ya hadn’t been so… gloomy lately maybe I wouldn’t have been so worried- No, ya should just be grateful to the Great Mammon. I’m not an errand boy ya know,” and with that, Mammon stalked off down the hallway.

Satan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything back. He understood Mammon was just trying to help him, “Well, it’s nice to see you Mc. How… Are you okay?” Mc was turning slowly, looking at his room in awe. He would’ve just figured she was simply impressed by his room like she had been the other first time she’d seen it, but she looked rattled.

“Oh! I was just… Umm… Your collection is really impressive,” she deflected his question, smiling. The unease remained in her eyes though.

“Yes. This is my personal collection,” Satan answered, leaving his question unanswered.

“It’s quite… impressive,” as she turned, Satan caught her frown again. Does she not like how messy it is?

“Though they’re not all on shelves, I make sure they’re all kept in good shape. I honestly just don’t have enough wall space or bookshelves for them all.”

“Oh… I understand. I tend to get book piles too,” Mc answered, a bit caught off guard.

So it’s not the mess. What could it be?

“So, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just haven’t heard from you for a couple days.”

“I’m sorry about that and just showing up out of the blue like this. I had a lot to think about after… last time, and some things to research. Then inspiration randomly struck for my next art show. Not to mention, Michael’s been keeping a close eye on me ever since he blew up. I wanted to see you, and I didn’t even think to message you first. I’m sorry about that.”

Satan was at a loss for words. She wanted to come see me. She wanted to see me so much, she just showed up. I should really say something to her right now, but I’m not sure what to say.

“You’re not angry with me, are you?” Mc turned back to him, looking worried.

“Of course not. I was afraid you were possibly upset with me, and Lucifer I suppose, for what we told you. I know hearing something like that must be hard.”

Mc smiled, “Well, that’s good to know. As to what you told me… I do trust you guys. More so than I trust most of the other angels in fact… But you are demons and what you told me was… Anyway, I was researching what you told me to see if I could corroborate your story and I did find a couple different mentions of Lilith, one of which told of a connection between her and the fruit. I couldn’t prove or disprove the claims that he… That he was the one that shot her, but with how defensive he immediately got after I mentioned seven angels falling instead of six… I… I can’t bring myself to believe he’d do something that terrible yet, but I do believe you guys on everything else, and… it’s not beyond the realm of possibility. In any case, the Celestial Realm definitely covered up much of the war, including its causes. I had a suspicion when I originally learned about it, but figured it was all just in my head,” Mc looked Satan straight in the eyes, “I want to thank you for being honest with me.”

“How are you so sure we didn’t lie to you? Like you said, we are demons.”

“Call it a hunch,” Mc smiled, “Anyway, I really appreciate it, and I wanted you to have this,” she handed him a very lifelike drawing, “I thought you might like cats, so I frew my favorite one from the Celestial Realm.”

Satan couldn’t believe his eyes, “Leo?”

“Huh?”

“That’s Leo. I… half adopted him a while ago.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, he’s got hearts all over him right? The one on his forehead and chest are the most prominent, but there’s a couple more on his back and stomach right? Hold on. I have a couple photos here,” and Satan went rustling through a drawer. It was hard to find a photo of him without Mc, but he knew there were some. Leo was a cat that he and Mc had adopted together. She’d used all her charm and reasoning skills to get Lucifer to agree to allowing a cat in the house. She had promised him it would only be the one cat, though they secretly were planning on getting another once Leo passed. They unfortunately didn’t get the chance to see that happen, as Mc passed away before Leo did. Lucifer had allowed Satan to keep the cat as a way to cope with Mc’s death. He listened to me! I told him to go find his Mom once he left me, and he did! I’m so happy!

He finally found a good picture to show Mc, “See? Same cat.”

“Oh my! You’re right! That’s incredible!”

“So, you said he was your favorite?”

“Yeah. Because of how transient most cats are, they don’t spend long in the Celestial Realm. He may not spend a lot of time with me, but I do see him around a lot, and he has comforted me before. A lot of the other angels think he was a pet of mine from my human life, and that's why he sticks around.”

“Well, who wouldn’t want to stay with you?”

Mc looked up at Satan, “You really think that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You didn’t even know me then. What if I was boring or really dumb in the human realm?”

Satan slapped himself internally for not being more careful, “I highly doubt you were either of those two things. I know when people come down here, they don’t lose any of their personality.”

“Really?”

“Yup. It makes the whole process of breaking them so much more entertaining,” seeing Mc’s worried expression, he cleared his throat and moved on, “With that line of thinking, angels would be the same way. Your placement was just decided by how good you were in life.”

“What if I was a Wanderer though?”

Satan sucked in a breath at that. She had been a Wanderer? There was a chance she could have ended up here with him?

“There’s a lot of theories on why someone might Wander. None of them are conclusive though. I wouldn’t worry too much about it if I were you.”

“Satan?”

“Yes?”

“When the time comes, will you answer my questions?” Mc didn’t look at Satan, but he had the feeling this was an extremely important question.

“Of course I will.”

Satan watched some tension leave Mc’s body, as she turned to him and smiled sincerely, “Thank you.”

“Well, of course. That’s assuming I can answer them.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be able to,” she answered cryptically.

“Very well then. Since you’re here, would you like to stay and read? Or we can go somewhere if you’d like,” she turned to him, and he couldn’t help the words that fell from his lips, “I just want to spend some time with you.”

Mc looked a bit shocked, but then she smiled softly, “I’d really like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They decided on reading, but not before they went downstairs to grab some snacks. As predicted, Beel was there as well.

“Hey Mc,” Beel grinned, his feast not yet begun.

“Hi Beelze… Actually, is it alright if I call you Beel?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Beel cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“It’s just… I don’t know you very well, so I didn’t know if it was alright. Plus, they always refer to you as Beelzebub in the Celestial Realm.”

“Wait… Do they talk about us up in the Celestial Realm?”

“Not a lot, but when speaking about our history they do talk about you all, especially Lucifer.”

“What do they say about me?” Beel had grabbed his wrist.

“Yeah, what do they say about us? I wanna know,” Belphie’s head popped out from underneath the table, making Mc yelp a little and grabbed onto Satan’s arm. His hand automatically covered hers, a reflex from when she had been a human.

“Oh yeah. Belphie’s here too,” Beel added happily, watching the angel and his brother.

Belphie smirked, eyes on their arms, “So, what do they say about us?”

“You give me a near heart attack and then carry on like nothing happened?” Mc asked, a bit embarrassed.

“Your fault for not looking,” Belphie grunted, looking at Satan who was nearly frozen in place, his eyes focused on the point of contact, “You woke me up so maybe you should be apologizing to me.”

“Belphie, don’t be mean. You were hiding weren’t you?” Beel asked.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point. And how long are you going to keep clinging to my brother like that? I know he’s stronger than me, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Mc looked to see she was still grabbing Satan’s arm, “Eep! S-Sorry! I didn’t realize,” she removed herself and took a step away, face burning.

“That’s quite alright Mc,” Satan managed to get out.

“So, what’d you guys come down here for?” Beel asked, frowning a bit at Belphie.

“Ah, right. Snacks. We came down for snacks,” Mc said quickly, face still flushed.

“I can help with that,” Beel said, “Come over here Mc and I’ll help you pick food out.” By the time their snacks were decided, both Mc and Satan had to carry them up to his room.

“We have way too many snacks,” Satan observed, “I’ll still have some in my room a month from now.”

“Awww, come on you guys! I went down to resupply early to avoid Beel taking everything, but it was really you two I needed to watch out for?”

“He was already there when we went down. He sent us back with all this,” Satan answered, not really wanting to deal with Levi at the moment. The twins had already taken up enough valuable reading time as it was.

“Of course he would. He never thinks about me when he cleans out the fridge. It’s not like it’s easy for me to just leave the house to go get something, but no one ever thinks about me. It’s probably because I’m a-”

“Oh, do you want these then?” Mc cut him off, extending her full arms.

“Wha…? You’re giving these to me?”

“Sure. Why not?” Mc smiled at him.

Levi’s eyes went wide and his lower lip quivered a bit, “You’re so kind. You’re truly an angel now.”

“Because I wasn’t before?” Mc chuckled.

Levi’s eyes got even wider and he looked down, “W-Well, I-I… Just… Thank you for the food. I think I need to go back to my room now!”

“Oh, sure. Here you go,” the snacks were handed off, Levi only dropping 3 in his haste, and then he was walking as quickly as he could down the hallway towards his room.

“That was weird,” Mc commented, watching him hurry down the hallway.

“He’s weird,” Satan sighed, extremely grumpy that Levi not only interrupted them but then said something so thoughtless, “Don’t worry about him.”

“Sure,” Mc replied, though he was sure she was still wondering about it.

“Let’s just get to my room before we’re interrupted by anyone else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan closed his book and stretched, enjoying the increase in blood flow throughout his body, “How are you enjoying- Oh,” Mc, who he had given the bed to, the place she had read before they would read cuddled together, was asleep. She was breathing deeply, book still clutched in her hand.

Chuckling, Satan padded over to the bed, and pulled a blanket over her. Coincidentally, it was one she had given him. She had been convinced it was the best blanket for reading ever. He had put a perseverance spell on it so it never got worn past where it was comfortable. Now that he had it for a long time, he found himself agreeing with her.

He allowed himself a moment to admire her sleeping form, the muntins in his window throwing a line across her face. She adjusted in her sleep, pulling the blanket closer. She smiled sleepily, murmuring something that almost sounded like his name. She truly is just as beautiful as before she left that last time. The last time I ever saw her alive…

His hand caressed her jaw line before he knew what he was doing, “I’ll never lose you again. For as long as you’ll allow me in your life, I’ll be here. I promise you that,” he whispered, leaning down and lightly pressing his lips to her forehead.

She stirred at the contact, eyes opening sleepily and focusing on him, “Mnh, Satan?”

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As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome! Until next time!

#obey me!#OBEY ME #obey me! swd #obey me! satan #satan obey me #obey me mc #obey me satan/mc #finding you #aspenflower17 #obey me long fic #obey me! shall we date?

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thehoodsweetheart · 5 years

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Sandcastles

A/N: I haven’t written in a very long time so please be gentle with me. I got in the mood to write and thought, why not? Loosely proofread it. I hope it’s not complete trash. :( Anyways, Auntie Bey releasing Lemonade for streaming gave your girl some inspo. Please comment and let me know your thoughts.

Word Count: 2,471

Warnings: Slight Angst (?), Violence, Hints of emotional abuse, Fuckboy Erik

Summary: You love Erik, but you can’t let him compromise your integrity.

Erik x Black Reader (will always be a Black reader. Sorry not Sorry).

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The iPhone’s screen illuminated white with its signature black apple dead center. You inhaled deeply letting out an exasperated breath awaiting the lock screen to appear. You used your thumb to spin the wedding ring around your finger. Your eyes shifted from the device to the house you were parked in front of. It was large modern styled house, almost as if it were overcompensating for something. The lawn was well manicure yet it showed no semblance of life. At 11:45 AM, not a single light peaking from any of the vast windows, or a single car in the winding driveway to give the impression that someone was ‘home’. Great... This was your home.

The chiming of the overbearing amount of notifications snapped out of your daze. You furrowed your eyebrows together immediately turning off the ringer to silence the noise. 587 text messages, 107 missed calls, 107 voicemails to accompany those missed calls, and let’s not count the emails, Instagram DM’s, and Facebook messages. They were pretty much all from Erik, except for a few texts from your best friend Samantha, Shuri, and T’Challa. Nonetheless, their texts were probably due to Erik pestering them.

Five days. That’s how long you were gone. Five days since your phone was last turned on. You thought Erik should have given up after the first 20 unanswered calls and text messages. You made it very clear that you done this time. Matter of fact, you promised you were done. You opened the stream of Erik’s texts trying to scroll as much as you could to get a glimpse where he was mentally. His texts went from being riddled with arrogance and indifference, in true Erik Stevens form, to desperate and apologetic, then came the slue of “I love you’s”. You slouched in your seat behind the steering wheel and continued to skim the texts rolling your eyes.

The most recent voicemail from Erik made your chest tight as a lump formed in your throat. His voice was laced with venom.

Y/n, you really on some bullshit! How many times do a nigga have to apologize love? I’ve been calling you like I’m FUCKIN’ CRAZY! (He chuckles darkly.)You really gone walk away from everything like that baby? You left me here with our daughter and you don’t even give a fuck. What if something happened to Iman and I was trying to let you know? What the fuck kind of mother are you!? (Iman cried in the background.)

How dare he use her against you? You blinked away tears thinking of your 8-month-old daughter. You loved Iman with your entire being. She was literally the light of your life and string of hope that love still remained in your marriage. You never wanted to leave her but you couldn’t stay. There was also no way in hell Erik would let you take her with you. The night you left he refused to let you take her. Now he was trying to guilt trip you.

Erik cheated.This wasn’t his first affair either. You honestly questioned if this was truly the second affair. You guys were nearing your third year of marriage and he’d already been caught having an affair prior to this. The first time was during your first year of marriage. You’d questioned why he even married you in the first place, but he swore he loved nobody like he loved you and couldn’t live without you. Like the naïve girl you were, you forgave him. This time you couldn’t. You promised if he cheated again, you would walk away and never look back.

Erik followed you into you guys shared home, loosening his tie and shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket. You all were just returning home from a benefit hosted by the Wakandan Outreach Center. His eyes fixed on your ample rear-end and wide set hips as they swayed with your vigorous walk. Your black body-con dress flattered every curve. He noted your postpartum weight had provided you with some desirable assets.

He was hot on your trail as you reached the kitchen opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

You needed a drink of water to hopefully ease the nauseous feeling that developed mid-dinner. As the benefit went on, you were left with your thoughts, which only made you feel worse. On the surface you played it cool, keeping a warm smile and socializing with the benefit goers but still keeping a watchful eye on your husband…and his intern. She felt no shame in openly flirting with him as he fed right into it with his dimpled smile and occasional wink.

Erik snaked an arm around your waist pressing his groin into your butt. You shrugged him off of you rounding the island that centered the kitchen. Erik scoffed in annoyance.

“What the fuck is wrong with you now?”

“YOU-you’re fucking your intern!” The words spilled out of your mouth like word-vomit as tears threatened the rims of your eyes.

Erik clenched and unclenched his jaw before squaring his shoulders his feet planted apart. His almost natural militant stance still screamed righteousness no matter if he had just been called out.

“What intern?” He arched his brow with a smug look.

Before you could think twice, you snatched off your So Kate pumps and threw them directly at his head missing by a few centimeters. He stood there with a look of bewilderment. You knew it would only be a matter of time before he’d try to come after you and that’d be your ass.

“Fuck you Erik! You know exactly who I’m talking about! HOW LONG HUH?! I saw the text messages and nasty ass pictures she sent you last night! Distasteful bitch! Was it her in the video that you lied and tried to say it was random porn?! You must think I’m fuckin stupid!” You screamed.

You grabbed the closest thing to you, which was an empty glass bowl and hurled it in his direction. Your vision was blurred with tears but your aim was still pretty accurate. Maybe playing softball in your youth did pay off. The bowl hit his built shoulder and went crashing on the floor.

“Stop throwing shit! YES I FUCKED HER OKAY?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW? And it was her in the video. But I don’t give a fuck about her!” Erik barked as he stormed toward you.

You might’ve been pissed but you were still a smart bitch. You dodged his reach picking up another dish to throw at him before scurrying to the farther side of the kitchen. You didn’t care if he gave a fuck about his intern or not, he still fucked her. He still made the conscious decision to break your trust and ruin the small family you were building. Your chest heaved as angrily wiped the makeup stained tears from your cheeks.

“YOU OBVIOUSLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME EITHER! You only care about yourself! You disgust me. I put my dreams and career on hold to cater to you. I never wanted to be a stay at home mom and you knew that! Yet I still did it for us, so that our daughter could at least be around one of her parents consistently. You’re hardly ever home these days! You treat me like shit! You lie to me! You never have time for me. You cheat on me with God only knows how many other women! I’M DONE!”

You wipe your stray tears stuffing the phone into your hoodie’s pocket. Your shaky hands fiddled with the keys before pulling them out of the ignition. You quickly get out of your Range Rover Velar and stroll towards the house. You unlock the house to be met with silence and the familiar scent of home. The scent was a mixture of fresh linen and lavender vanilla from your favorite candles.

You eyes scanned the first floor of the open floor plan home. There was still no sign of Erik. You blew out a sign of relief as you ventured further into the house. You walked into the living room seeing some of Iman’s toys and a blanket thrown about. Out of habit you collect them, putting them in their respectful places before folding her baby blanket and laying it in the play-pin she had in the living room. A couple pairs of his shoes littered the floor and one of Iman’s bottles. Like her mom, Iman liked to throw things and with good aim.

“You would think he’d be neater being in the Navy and all.” You scoffed rolling your eyes.

He actually was neat. Often times, neater than you so seeing things out of place were odd. You knew Erik was probably ready to pull his dreads out having to deal with Iman alone for five days. Iman was definitely a busybody, despite not walking yet she could manage to crawl and climb whatever whenever she got the chance. He could finally see how you felt… aside from being cheated on.

A sizable gold photo frame laid faced down on the end table near where most of Iman’s mess was. You picked up the photo taking in the details of its broken glass before focusing in on the actual picture. It was a picture of your wedding day. Another item you attempted to throw at Erik in your heated rage. You and Erik looked like a genuinely happy couple there, nothing forced like the past few months were. You placed your hand over your mouth to hush your sobs. How could you have gotten to this point?

You were never a violent person. You weren’t even easily angered. You were always cool and collected trying to see a positive in any situation. Conflict just wasn’t your thing but mostly due to you being so sensitive. Erik had always joked that you were the calm to his storm. That you were, the calm always willing to offer comfort and rationality so when it came to the point where your love was being taken advantage of you exploded. It was your turn to bring the storm.

Erik stood in the distance taking in the sight of you. Your curly hair thrown in a messy topknot as a few tight curls escaped, hanging freely around your face. Your honey brown golden skin looked like it lost a bit of color, as if you were indoors for the entire five days or maybe sick. Your almond shaped eyes were puffy, nose a bit red, and already full lips looked a little swollen. No matter how disheveled another person may have thought you looked, he saw your beauty. The same beauty that captured him from the first moment he set eyes on you. Erik’s face contorted into a frown as he hastily wiped his own tears.

You must’ve felt him staring because you looked up only to lock eyes with him. Your breathing hitched as he walked closer to you but you didn’t move, you couldn’t move. Here was the alleged love of your life and very sight of him made you want to punch him in the face, vomit, cry, hate him, love him and be held all at the same time. It physically pained your stomach.

Erik reached out and touched your hand causing you to pull back as if being shocked by electricity.

“I just came to get my things. I’ll be leaving shortly.” You said just above a whisper your eyes shifting to the floor.

“Please-please don’t leave.” Erik croaked only to be met with silence. You stared at him with a blank expression.

“Where’s Iman?” You muttered.

“She’s in her nursery taking a nap.” He sounded defeated as he tossed the baby monitor on the couch. You nodded attempting to walk around him only to be stopped.

“Wait! I-I know I fucked up. I just want to apologize baby. I was wrong for being a fucked up husband and cheating. I was being selfish. I felt like I was losing myself by giving my all to you and I’m sorry. I allowed my ego get the best of me. You didn’t deserve none of the shit I put you through--”

“You’re right you are selfish. You ain’t shit for what you did to me.” You cut him off.

He dropped his head looking at his feet. Erik nodded before looking into your eyes and grabbing your hands. His large calloused hands engulfing your small delicate ones.

“Just hear me out Y/N. I love you with all of my being. You and Iman are the best things that have ever happened to me and I don’t even deserve y’all. I can’t take losing another person I love. I need you baby. If I gotta beg you for your forgiveness everyday I will. I already fired her. Shit, I’ll even go to marriage counseling. Whatever it takes. We can re-build; take it as slow as you need…Fuck! I don’t—I can’t let you walk away. Just don’t leave me baby.” Erik gripped your hips his fingertips digging into your flesh.

Your gaze studied the intricate scars adorning his forearms. Without thought, your fingers traced the pattern. He leaned down pressing his forehead against yours. You dared not to look in his eyes. A teardrop hitting your nose caught you off guard. You took in a sharp breath chewing on your bottom lip. In the many years of knowing your husband, you can count on one hand how many times you’d seen him cry. You draped your arm around his neck stroking the back of his head.

“It’s going to take more than an apology to get your family back. I refuse to raise childrenin a toxic environment.” You said just above a whisper.

Iman’s wails echoed through the baby monitor. You immediately broke away from Erik rushing up the stairs to her nursery. You missed your baby and not having her was the worse part of those five days. You scooped Iman up in your arms rocking her as you kissed all over her round golden face. Her cries subsided as she offered you a two-toothed grin flexing the dimples in her chubby cheeks, Erik’s dimples.

“Mommy’s here. I’m so sorry my sweet girl.” You clung to her as tears fell down your cheeks.

“Y/N…” Erik called out as he stood in the doorway with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You turned around to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“I found the pregnancy tests in our bathroom.” Erik stated plainly.

You never got around to telling him but you’d known you were pregnant for at least two weeks.

“I never hid them…”

#erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger x oc #erik x reader #black panther rec #black panther #black panther imagine #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger #killmonger one shot #erik killmonger x black!reader

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flipsideds · 4 years

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“ oh, haha... ” a default response to a very non-default situation –– a little post-show, barside rendez-vous with an older man who insists nour has been singing to directly to him the entire night. “ flirting ? i... ”

gentle eyes gloss over the banquet hall’s dimmed lights, bright smiles, flickering electric candles... “ . . . what’s that ? ” and then he’s off, gin and tonic in hand. three strides and it’s already half-drained. yikes.

or, alternatively : greetings loved ones!! my name is linc ( 21 / est / she/her ) and here is the ever so graceful, ever so unintentionally magnetic nour al-busiri! below the cut you’ll find a messy run-down. i am so excited to plot & write with all of you !!

( i’m scheduled for a tonsillectomy tomorrow so i’m gonna be so grateful for the distraction, y’all have no idea. )

if you want some great mood-setters for this beb’s backstory / insight into his soul, slap on some jacob collier, kevin garrett, or charlie burg ‘n let’s get cookin’ !

so this is all copy-pasted from a discord chat with devon bc i improvised nour’s entire life story over a span of... 10 minutes ?? bahaha pls enjoy i apologize in advance. ( i also put this in normal text size bc it is v long and i don’t want anyone hurting their eyes !! protect dem beautiful retinas <3 )

h i s t o r y .

his parents met in grade school in egypt, but then didn't reconnect until their masters studies crossed paths in london... immediately fell head over heels again ( had they been searching for one another in crowds since being 6-7 years old?? maybe... ). graduated top of their class, accepted job offers in london in the biopharmaceutical realm. but then. when nour was 3...

they were involved in a freak monorail accident on their way back from a science conference in amsterdam. the babysitter paid 80 quid to watch the kids for two nights became their sole protector in this world. british authorities had trouble contacting other kin, but managed to reach mr. al-busiri's mother, rashida, who was still living in dahab with her second husband, zaim.

the al-busiri's came from old money. so off nour goes ( and potentially his older bro if i decide he exists... potential wc with a rami malek fc tbh ) to live in the city which, unbeknownst to him, sparked his parents' storybook love.

so nour grows up in this like... picturesque seaside childhood. collects shells. bonds with his grandmother and her husband. they encourage him with school, etc. but he quickly shows that he excels at maths and... music? wow. that's unexpected. gets his first piano at 5. first guitar at 6. by 8 1/2, he's managed to hodge-podge together a little recording studio for himself in his bedroom, and he's constantly serenading his friends at school.

( death tw / illness tw ) then comes zaim's stroke. he lives for four months after, but he loses his ability to speak. his motor skills deteriorate. nour and his grandmother do their best to tend to him –– she's already about 40% down the macular degeneration path, but hasn't told him yet that her vision's going. so 10 y/o nour does what he does best: unconditional love and support, delivered through the gift of song. zaim dies after requesting his favorite song: 'blackbird' by the beatles, sung in verses alternating from english to arabic.

after, it's just nour and rashida against the world ( maybe his brother too bergorghre if i decide he's a thing ) . rashida's forced to come clean about her vision the day she can't for the life of her find the bloody pen she just put down so she can finish signing off on nour's choir trip permission slip. ( it's right next to her, to her left, just out of her closing field of vision. ) things progress more rapidly after that. by the time nour's 16, his grandmother is legally blind. it's not an uncommon sight to see him at the markets or strolling along the beach with her on his arm. she refuses canes as long as nour's around. ( “ don't rob me of my youth, nuri-nuri [ my light ] ” )

despite her growing dependency on him, she encourages him to apply to unis all over the globe. by the time college apps roll around, nour is somewhat of a local household name: he plays summer concerts, coffee shops, and is even asked to play at his teacher's wedding ceremony –– and his neighbor's cat funeral.

acceptances roll in. julliard. berkeley. chicago school of music. he chooses chicago, because there's someone there. someone he connected with online a few years back, a friend, but... could turn into something more. this hopeless romantic heedlessly ventures off to find out if this boy in chicago might... be someone. something more.

spoiler alert: he gets to chicago, starts music school. and each meet-up they set? gets pushed. sometimes it's traffic. a cold. transit trouble. can't get work off, sorry. things with ma are really tough. the excuses kept coming but... nour's naive. he believes every word. but in his second year of uni, things....... start getting suspicious. by chance, he spots this man in the window of a coffee shop downtown. overjoyed, he texts as much. but ... messages go read and unanswered. phone calls dwindle.

his music suffers. so does his muse. so much so that he's tempted to drop out, to throw in the towel, to just...... go back home. he speaks with his grandmother each day on the phone. she's doing well, stop worrying, nuri-nuri, your uncle is taking good care of me. nour goes on dates. thinks about chicago boy. thinks about him a lot.

he's 20 when it happens. sat on a stage in a little dive bar, tuning his acoustic guitar for an opening number, and there. those eyes. he knows them.

they talk after the show, in the alley. share a cigarette. and it's almost like... maybe things are finally clicking. maybe this is finally their shot.

except chicago boy ( neil ) says they have to stop talking. that he had to just... see nour for himself. see that he's real. hear him sing, and... move on. nour doesn't buy it. pushes back. asks why the hell neil'd come out now only to slink back to the shadows. things get heated. neil yells. and the men... the men who hear and come running ? they think nour is the cause of it all.

( hate crime tw, violence tw ) how many kicks does it take to break to the center of a broken heart ? twelve. how many broken ribs does it take to immobilize a probably terrorist, dude ? four. shattered wrist. snapped ankle. broken arm. cracked skull. and neil scuttles off like nour's bad meat. bad blood. like he asked for this.

chicago school of music receives a call from weiss memorial three days later.

nour never gets his degree. he breaks his apartment lease. flies home after he heals, spends a year with his grandmother and uncle. just... creating. writing, playing, trying to fill that void with something. but then things with his uncle get heated. he wants to put his own mother in a home, sell the estate, pocket the cash. nour fights it, but he's got no legal bearing.

the nursing home concept never takes hold, though, because his grandmother's still sharp as shit and refuses to sign anything nour doesn't read first. eventually the uncle grows tired of fighting and stops trying, just... slinks back to his husband and keeps his mouth shut. nour's grandmother pressures him to go back to chicago, make that city wish he never left. take back his own story. together they work to find a live-in aide they trust. freshly 22, nour ventures back to the city that broke him.

he finds cheap housing, a gig. the malnati, seems legit. good money. good exposure. and then he meets @ryderxmms –– they form one night stand. when not scheduled for malnati banquets, you can find nour providing vocals ( and occasional keys ) in the dive bars / parties the band lands gigs at.

g e n e r a l .

nour creates like food and drink don’t exist, sunlight is an illusion, and all the human body needs for sustenance is sound. he can find his way around just about any instrument under the sun, but his main poisons are piano, acoustic guitar, and digital recording tools –– think jacob collier and you’re right on the money.

actually, i’m stealing a lot of jacob collier discography and pegging it as his creations. this kid’s got an experimental sound and loves it.

he grew up speaking english and arabic equally, but because he learned english in london and then continued in egypt, he does have a mild brit-arab accent. it’s v cute, i promise.

looks like he’d be a total lothario, yeah ?? but. he’s so shy ? so sweet ? get him on a stage and he’s shameless but plop him in a bar and eye him up and he’ll honestly just smile nervously and pretend you’re looking at someone else.

love languages : singing to his succulents and plants before his 5am morning runs. facetime calls at times least convenient for him, but most convenient for you. little notes written on napkins, smiley face doodles included. candy bars. lingering a little longer in doorways after saying hello, just to see you smile.

he’s got major water sign vibes. birthday comin’ up in march, woot woot !!

he often wears very simple statement pieces. he likes rings, crystal pendants, leather bracelets. soft tees layered with embroidered jackets, metallic blazers. somehow he pulls off mixed media and crazy prints that should never go together ? he just... is so easy breezy.

he often wears his hair wild ‘n curly, unless the gig he’s got mandates a more streamlined look.

falls in love.... 14 times a day ?? really.

has a scar across his left temple from the incident with neil. will probably write it off as a bike riding accident. ( he doesn’t know how to ride a bike. )

don’t let him cook ever, okay ?? unless you want him to literally do this.

pls come at me for all the plots ? i’m so open for all the things !!! y’all got me on discord, so feel free to slide on into my dms. i promise i will be so thrilled <3

#intro.#☼ –– gimme that afterglow ! inspo.

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spootiliousrps · 5 years

Text

Drarry Take 2

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like drarry.

Stranger: Draco more or less disappeared after his pardon. He didn’t return to hogwarts to finish his education, he didn’t take a job within the magical world, nothing anyone made note of in any case. It wasn’t until years later that his name resurfaced, someone had spotted him, performing with an orchestra in a concert hall in south london playing the theremin. The next few days his face was everywhere, somehow more outraged that he dared show his face among muggles then if he’d cursed the minister. It also brought attention to the hall where he performed. Draco had tried ignoring it, apparating straight home out the back door but his friends were starting to notice how odd he was acting and one night they convinced him against his better judgement to go out and have a drink after the concert. “Hay Dee, I think someone has been checking you out, i saw him following us here after the show.” one of his friends snickered. Draco was well aware of who he was talking about. He supposed he should be happy it wasn’t a reporter from the prophet but Potter was hardly much of a step above. “Oh shut up would you.” he muttered, getting up from their booth. “this round’s on me, what do you want?” He asked the table.

You: [reading]

You: Harry Potter had been working as an aurora for some time now. After he finished his education at Hogwarts he felt it was the least he could do after the war. There were still DeathEaters out there that were dangerous; some even believed Voldemort could still be revived. Harry couldn't take that chance and he sure as hell wasn't going to allow them to hurt anyone else. So, he applied to be an Aurora and was immediately hired. Things had been going fairly smoothly over the last few years but lately... Well... He needed some help. Perferably from someone on the inside but there wasn't anyone that would be willing to at least not until he hear about Malfoy... It was a long shot but he was the only chance he had. So, here he was. He glanced up as Draco stood and moved to cut him off at the bar, knowing he'd be recognized if he hadn't been already.

Stranger: Draco stopped in his tracks as Harry came to stand in front of him. "I know you followed me from the consert. What are you doing here Potter?" He asked him trying his best to sound cool and collected even though it freaked him out quite a bit. he might not be the most caught up in the affairs of the magical world nowadays but he knew Potter was an auror now and those were never any good news.

You: Harry drew up short for a brief moment when they finally came face to face. Draco had always been handsome but in his maturity he was absolutely gorgeous. It took a moment for him to recover but when he did he sighed. "I'm sorry, I was trying to find a good opportunity to approach you." He admitted, before glancing over the blond's shoulder at the table of his friends. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Maybe I can buy you a drink?" He offered.

Stranger: "i'm just on my way to buy my own drink, but thanks." Draco said. "I'm out with my friends tonight if you hadn't already noticed." He told him and as he did he knew he had several of their eyes pealed at the back of his neck, no doubt curious about who this was. "What ever it is that you want to talk about you're going to have to say it here." He hoped that would shield him somewhat, Harry couldn't arrest him in the middle of a crowded muggle bar and he couldn't duel him ether as he half expected.

You: Harry pursed his lips in frustration. Of course, Draco was going to be difficult, he had always been that way. "I suppose you haven't changed much." He mused with a half smile at that. It was actually a bit of a relief. He wasn't sure what to expect when he went after the man but if he was close enough to what Harry remembered than he was sure he could handle him. His smile faded a bit, gaze going back to the group of friends that were waiting for the blond then back to him. "I need your help." He admitted in a bit of a whisper. "And I'm afraid you might be the only person that might be capable of assisting me." He admitted, rolling up his own sleeve to reveal the pale skin of his forearm, obviously hinting at the DeathEater mark on Draco's own.

Stranger: Draco's expression soured, from his nonchalant ease in to something much colder. "I have changed in fact." He mrmured, pushing up his own sleeve and showing what laid beneath his crisp white dress shirt. The skull and the snake were gone in favor of a new image, a dark crow with feathers of green and blue and black, completely covering any trace of what had once been underneath it. "So i'm not sure how i could help you with anything at all."

You: Harry's own expression turned to one of frustration. "You misunderstand Draco." He grumbled. "If I didn't believe you were a better person I wouldn't have come." He admitted, practically hissing the words. "I'm trying to save lives and you're the only person with-" He paused glancing at the group once more, making sure they couldn't hear. "With the /background/ needed to get the information I need." He explained.

Stranger: "I'm not interested in being the ministry's pet, i'm surprised you bent so willingly." Draco frowned. "I always thought you were a bit too much of an anarchist for this sort of thing, but maybe you grew out of that phase." He said, giving him a nonce over critically. Maybe he shouldn't be so bold, Harry was strong and clearly not just in terms of magic. Draco turned back to the Bar counter, paid for the drinks and took the tray back with him to his group of friends.

You: Harry's jaw set at that, bitting back a childish retort. He refused to lower himself. The ministry gave him access to resources he otherwise couldn't which made it ideal for hunting DeathEaters. It wasn't as if he were going to explain himself to the likes of Malfoy however. He watched the man collect the drinks, obviously fuming as he headed back to the table. "What if I told you, I could get your Mother out?" He asked loud enough for everyone to hear. He hadn't wanted to play that card but he had kept it just in case. Draco's mother had helped him during the war, the only reason she was in Azkaban was because Harry refused to testify for or against her. But if he approached the council now after all his achievements, and made it public that she was one of the reasons they had won, then the ministry would have no choice but to release her. The public would always believe Harry Potter, their savior.

Stranger: Draco almost dropped the drinks entirely but instead just set the tray down hard on the table ant whipped around at Harry. "Get out of here you fucking monster." He snarled. He knew Harry could have gotten her out just like he had done for Draco but instead he'd stayed quiet, letting them throw her in that wretched place and now it seemed to all be to be able to wave it in front of Draco's nose.

You: Harry expected the anger but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. He kept his expression even as he nodded somberly. "Alright, Draco." He agreed, lifting his hands up in surrender. "But I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the next few nights if you change your mind." He offered as he tugged out a card and set it on the bar next to him before turning away. "I hope you do." He added softly before disappearing.

Stranger: "not bloody fucking likely unless you actually do something about her." Draco yelled after him, gaining the attention of the entire bar as he raised his voice. His friends tried to shush him, to get to explain what this was all about but he couldn't tell them any of this. On thing was for certain though he wouldn't fall for empty promises,

You: [btw I absolutely love your Draco :3 Thank you so much for this gem!]

Stranger: (Oh thank you i'll do my best to keep this up ^^ )

You: Harry waited for the other man to appear for a full day but he never came. He wasn't too surprised. Draco was nothing if not stubborn. Still, he contemplated meeting the man's demands. If he got his mother released, would he still be able to trust the other man's information? He supposed he didn't really have a choice. So, after making a few calls he set up a private press conference, keeping it as quiet as possible to ensure the ministry knew nothing of it; and within the next two days every reputable news paper in the Wizarding world had Harry Potter on the front page along with an article that reported in detail how Draco's mother saved his life and helped win the war. All he had to do now was wait for the outrage towards the ministry which would see the woman released... Granted she'd be in danger from both sides but Draco would get what he wanted.

Stranger: Draco Rarely paid any attention to the magical news papers and he'd almost dismissed his encounter with potter as a bad dream when he was swarmed by witches and wizards one night after his performance, most of them were reporters and shoved their cameras in his face with apearantly no regard for how much attention they brought from the general muggle public. All of them demanded answers on how he felt about Potters press conference and about the prospect of his mother being released. After he finally managed to excape, leaving almost all of the questions herled at him unanswered the first thing he did when he got home was writing to Harry. Potter, Thank you for getting my mother released. But what i said still stands, I don't understand how you expect me to help you, or what you think i know. I broke with the magical world, and for good reason, for both of our sake. //DM

You: The onslaught of Howlers and threatening letters was overwhelming and as soon as they arrived Harry tended to tear them up rather than read them. Which meant he almost miss Draco's. Almost. He caught sight of the return address and broke the seal immediately, scanning the paper quickly before rereading the words. He scribbled a quick response before sending it. Draco, Its best if we discuss this in person. Meet me at the same pub as before. Tomorrow. 3PM. HP

Stranger: Potter, I cant tomorrow, i have practice which i simply cant miss. I'll see you Friday at 11 am, the coffee shop right next to it. //DM Draco refused to let Harry take control of this, i he really needed Draco's help he'd have to play nice about it. That and he was going to get the position of a solist and the next day would be the first day practicing the piece with the entire orchestra.

You: Harry frowned at the response. Of course Draco wanted to take control of everything. Fine. Harry would play along. Draco, Fine. Tomorrow. Make sure its just you. HP

Stranger: Potter, I dont appreciate your tone, and you better show me the same curtsy in that case. DM

You: Malfoy, You're a massive pain in the arse, as always. I've practically ruined my career and reputation for this. Forgive me if I'm a bit sour. HP

Stranger: Potter, You say "massive pain in the arse" as if you still have the right to pretend like you know me. I haven't even seen you in years. And it's not my fault that you ruined your reputation, you could have done the right thing from the beginning and told them what my mother did for you. //DM

You: Draco, I will see you tomorrow. We can discuss this then. HP

Stranger: Draco didn't feel the need to answer the last message, getting the last word wasn't always worth it and he didn't plan on wasting more ink on Harry then necessary. At least not until he stopped acting like a complete prick.

You: Harry was annoyed to say the least but he did his best to ignore it all. An hour before their designated time Harry was at the Coffee shop, watching the patrons as he waited for the blond, making sure that no one was lingering longer than they should.

Stranger: Draco showed up five minutes late, a bag over his choulder and dressed more cassually then he'd ever done as he grew up. He'd given up the dark cloaks and seveere suits for black jeans and an oliv green jacket over a turtle neck. He walked up to the front counter, not even sparing harry a look yet and chatted a little with the barista as she made him Cappuccino. Him, as well as his colleges from the orchestra came here often enough that he was recognized and he wanted Harry to see that, hopefully that would make him behave somewhat. "Ta." He said cheerfully and took his cup. He walked over to the table Harry had picked and sat down, putting his bag on the chair to his right. "So?" He asked expectantly.

Stranger: (brb)

Stranger: (back^^

You: Harry glanced up as the blond entered and gave a heavy sigh at the production the man gave. He really hadn't changed, aside from the clothes. Though... they were fitting and not bad on the eyes at all. No, he couldn't think like that, he needed to focus. He gave the man a flat look before mumbling a charm so they couldn't be overheard. "So, I did what you asked." He stated flatly. "Now, its your turn. I need information on the current plans of some local DeathEaters. I know you've left that life behind but... Well, they may not know that."

Stranger: "I don't have any contact with them, nor do i know what they are up to." Draco told him simply and then had a sip of his coffee. "Besides, my reputation with them wasn't so good by the end of the war in any case so if you're asking me to become your spy you're out of luck." Draco said. He knew it wasn't what Harry wanted to hear but it was the truth. Harry could be angry if he liked.

You: "I know." Harry answered simply. "But that could change. It wouldn't be for long. I just need someone to get close enough to find out where they're holding prisoners." Harry explained. "I wouldn't be coming to you if this wasn't important." He pointed out. The statement was obvious. If what Harry was saying was true; he had practically ruined his career at the mere chance he /might/ get the information he needed. It was obvious that this was important to him; far more important than he was trying to let on.

Stranger: Draco leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. "I don't know where they are harry." It was the first time he'd used his first name so maybe he'd listen this time. "If they saw me i doubt i'd get a warmer welcome then you. Some things happened by the end of the war that means i wouldn't be welcomed even if i tried."

You: "It doesn't matter!" Harry snapped as he slammed his fist on the table angrily, making a few of the customers glance there way. He seemed to notice his mistake and took a few deep breaths, running a hand through his messy locks. "Sorry..." He mumbled, glancing away and lowering his voice. "I can get you in. Provide them with information about me. They can have me! They won't pass up that chance. I just need that information! Please, Draco! You're the only chance I've got." He practically pleaded.

Stranger: Draco flinched, startled by the outburst. "They've taken someone." It wasn't even a question, Harry had mentioned prisoners and obviously this was someone close to Harry. "Who is it they have?"

You: Harry's jaw clenched at question, obviously considering not answering for a moment but eventually sighing. "Rose and Hugo Weasley." He grumbled between his clenched teeth. "Ron and Hermoine's children." He explained, glancing away, pain obvious in his dark gaze.

Stranger: Draco sighed deeply. "Well i certainly understand why you're so dead set on it." Draco mumbled, and yet it didn't make him any more willing to help him. His mother would be released, there was no stopping that now so Harry didn't have that dangling over his head anymore. He didn't have anything on Draco. "It's a big thing to ask of me harry, bigger then you even realize. Why should i help you?"

You: Harry sighed at that, scrubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. "I dunno, Malfoy; the goodness of that cold black heart of yours?" He shot back in annoyance. "Or maybe, because now you mother is in more danger than before. When she's released both sides are going to be looking for blood. I can protector her. Or you just want me gone... I don't plan on going anywhere until you help me Malfoy.... You thought I was annoying in school... I am so much worse now."

Stranger: "If i were you i'd be careful with insulting me." Draco said coldly, his mouth forming a thin line. "Do you even have a plan for this? I doubt it, i think you hoped you could just intimidate me and i'd have all the answers waiting on a platter for you. what is it exactly you want me to do?"

You: "Or what?" Harry responded with a glare before he gave another huff at the questions. "I do." He admitted. "I have an informant but he's practically useless. He's told me where I can find one of the hideouts but it doesn't do me much good. I can't just walk in and demand answers... But if someone were to get the better of me... tie me up and present me too them... perhaps an old rival... someone who had made it public their disdain for me... then they'd have an in... They could get the information needed and give it to someone that could do something about it... Like Hermoine." He explained, making it obvious that he didn't plan on surviving this.

Stranger: "That's the best you could come up with?" Draco frowned. "If i was them i'd simply kill you then and there, and then kill those kids as well for good measure." He huffed. "That's a fucking idiotic plan and i'm not putting myself through that risk, what's to say they wont kill me, or worse, the moment they've gotten rid of you? Who are these death eaters anyways?" He asked, of the ones who were left there wasnt a single one he'd imagine to have any mercy for ether of them.

You: "Do you think I would have come to you of all people if I had any sort of choice?!" He snapped. "Have you got a better idea?! Or are you just that content to let two innocent children die because you think you're so god damn better than everyone? What makes your life more important to theirs? Newsflash, Malfoy: No one's life is better than anyone else's. If it were I probably wouldn't have spared the time to go back for you all those years ago."

Stranger: "I dont think i'm better then anyone else but i can do simple math and two people dead, even children, is better the four people dead and i rather fancy sticking around for a bit longer even if you dont." Draco said. He took a sip of his forgotten coffee, luke warm at this point and then leaned forward. "

Stranger: (not done)

Stranger: "Dont be an idiot Harry, there must be a better option then this, who are they? Avery? Lestrange? Greyback- surely not...." he trailed off.

You: "I'm open to suggestions but if it comes down to my life or their's I'm risking it." Harry scoffed before his brows furrowed and he stared down at his coffee silently for a moment. "I dunno... I'd put my money on Lestrange... but I can't be sure. There just isn't enough information, thats one of the reasons I'm so desperate." He sighed in defeat.

Stranger: Draco sighed deeply, an attempt to calm himself, okay, so it might not be Greyback. "How were they taken?" Draco asked him quietly..

You: "Hermoine was on a business trip for the Headmistress, leaving the kids with Ron. They're fairly attached to their mother so he took them with him to visit his parents when they attacked. Mrs. Weasley managed to kill two of them but Arthur was injured and the children were taken before it was all over." He explained, still staring down at the white lid.

Stranger: "I'm sorry." Draco mumbled, it was awful if nothing else. "What has this informant told you about them? and well, who is the informant?"

You: Harry sighed, toying with the cup as he spoke. "Not much. He doesn't know who it was but there are only a few left that would have the balls to do this... His name is Henry. He mostly runs errands for them. He's mute so its not a if he can rat on them easily which also makes him ideal for an informant."

Stranger: "So how do you get information from him? do you know BSL?" He asked, that sure was a skill he hadnt expected harry to have although he supposed it wasnt too out of the realm of possibilities. "I want to meet him."

You: Harry nodded. "Hermoine taught me during our last year at Hogwarts." He acknowledged. "I'm passable at it." He shrugged. His gaze narrowed at the mention of meeting him however, brow arching. "Does that mean your willing to help?"

Stranger: "Yes. but i'm not going on any suicide missions, you'll have to do that on your own."

You: Harry gave a small snort of that, a large smile playing on his lips. "Deal." He chuckled, his whole face lighting with relief. He checked his watch briefly. "I know where he tends to hang out in about half an hour."

Stranger: "Right...." Draco said quietly. "Where is that?" He frowned, he didnt like how exited Harry got, it felt unnerving considering what it was they were discussing.

You: "He'll probably be dropping off the weekly portion of ale to Hogsmead." He explained with a shrug.

Stranger: "I'm sure it's not suspicious at all that you meet him here for your friday night date every week." Draco snorted.

You: Harry arched a brow obviously confused by that. "I don't meet him every week and I don't go as myself."

Stranger: "What ever you say. Fine, i'll come with you."

You: "Great! We should get going. I think I have some polyjuice left." He mumbled more to himself as he stood.

Stranger: "And do you also have hairs from two different people?" Draco asked. "It'll look odd if we both go as the same guy."

You: Harry chuckled at that. "I've got it covered, don't worry about it." He shrugged.

Stranger: Draco rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Stop looking so smug it doesnt suit you."

You: Harry's smile only widened at that, obviously in a far better mood than when he had first arrived. The relief of having Draco helping was almost palpable. He moved to get the door for the blond. "I will when you do." Harry retorted.

Stranger: "Except smugness does suit me." Draco told him and got up, hos coffee was cold anyways, no point in finishing it thoguh it was a shame, this little palace knew it's coffee.

You: "That is highly debatable." He teased as he waited for him. "Come to think of it, though I think I have the perfect disguise for you." He grinned, obviously up to something.

Stranger: "In that case i want the other one." Draco said tiredly, he wasn't at all a fan of Harry bouncing up and down grinning at him like that.

You: "It wouldn't make since for his regular meet up to suddenly forget BSL." He pointed out.

Stranger: "I know something better then BSL." Draco huffed.

You: "Oh, and what would that be?" Harry asked with an arched brow as the walked.

Stranger: "Legillimency." Draco said, following Harry out from the coffee shop, zipping up his jacket from the cold.

You: Harry pursed his lips at that, obviously unsure about it. "How long has it been since you've done something as complicated as Legilimency?" He asked. "You've been in the muggle world for some time now Draco."

Stranger: "It's not complicated once you learn it, if you have at least a little bit of the gift. I use it plenty. Especially since it's one of the few kings of magic i can reliably preform candles as i am."

You: Harry obviously wasn't too convinced. "No offense rather make sure." He replied. He had gone up against Legilimency enough that he was certain he could keep Draco from certain memories and thoughts that he didn't want the man to know. "We need to stop by my rooms to get the potion. If you don't mind you can use it on me first." He offered. "Its nothing against you I just don't want to loose an informant unnecessarily."

Stranger: "Suit yourself." Draco said, the insult stung a bit but it couldn't be helped, and if he got to take a peak in to Harry's mind he wouldn't pass up the chance. Though it did worry him what he might find there. that it might not be like anyone elses considering what his psyche had gone through.

You: Harry remembered the last time someone had tried using Legillimency on him. He had just applied to the ministry. The wizard who attempted it had just been looking for alterior motives but as they delved into some of Harry's more charished memories Harry grew defensive, throwing image after image of the deaths he had had to endure... Serius, Dumbledor, Fred, the ones he had killed himself as well... The guilt that came with. By the end of it the other wizard was collapsed in tears while Harry shed only a few, accustomed to the pain. If Draco decided to dig where he didn't belong Harry was prepared to do the same, though he hoped it would come to that... Then again it was possible Draco was a better wizard that the ministry had... honestly it was likely. When they were out of sight, Harry offered out his arm to the blond so that they could aparate. "Ready?" He asked calmly.

Stranger: "What ever." Draco muttered, taking his arm. He hated side allong appariton but he supposed taking the tube wasn't an option in this case. He hadnt been in the leaky cauldrun in years, when he said he'd turned his back on the wizarding world he had truly meant it and he dound he missed it far less then he had first expected.

You: Harry gave a small huff at the response and soon enough they appeared in his room. He shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of a chair before moving to dig in the bag atop it for the small vials of potions.

Stranger: Draco sat down in a chair, willing his stomach not to turn inside out. "what am i goign to look like then once i drink that wretched shit?" He asked, if the apparating didn't do the trick he'd certainly puke from the potion.

You: "Well I was tempted to turn you into a woman I met on a corner once." He admitted with a straight face "But if you're going to be sour about it I've got a lawyer from Ireland." He admitted as he moved to set the potions down and produced a small bill fold with a few hairs inside, each bagged and labeled neatly. He didn't add them just yet, however. Instead he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, obviously wanting to test Draco first.

Stranger: "Ha ha. let's turn the pretty one in to a woman, he already looks like a girl anyways." Draco muttered sourly. He got up, pulled the chair in front of harry so he could sit in front of him. "Hide what you must." He told him, very clearly not amused by what Harry had said.

You: "I thought so, though I would argue you don't look like a girl." He countered with a shrug. He nodded as he closed his eyes, mostly hiding things that could be used against him. His thoughts towards Draco, memories he held fondly of the young blond who always picked on him. The pain... the death... the abuse his family inflicted on him. "Okay." He agreed, having prepared himself.

Stranger: "Look at me." Draco told him, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knee's. Once Harry locked eyes with him he dove in whiteout warning. Draco was nothing like Severus, he didn't need to use brute force to extend his min to Harry, He came from a long line of legilimences after all and though he was by no mens a born natural he'd gotten good out of necessity.

You: Harry met his eyes but the closeness was suddenly very off putting causing him to flush. "Wait!" Harry rushed but it was too late his defenses had already faltered and Draco's conciousness was already weaving its way through his mind. He could feel his thoughts of the man come up... The way his new clothes hugged him just right, the way Draco smiling at his friend made Harry a bit too warm. He scrambled for defense, throwing the memory of Fred's death at him. It didn't seem to have too much affect and then a memory of the first time they met and Harry's immediate crush. This was so much easier when he didn't have a connection with the wizard performing the legilimency... But with Draco here, so close it was hard to avert his thoughts. He threw the memory of Serius dying. Then it was back to Draco and the panic Harry felt at the thought of the boy dying, Harry scrambling to save the boy he had been obsessed with for years. Harry began to throw everything at him at once, the war, his family, the kidnapping, everything he could think of to get Draco out of his head.

You: [I took a few liberties sorry. ^^; if you want me to rewrite it I can.]

Stranger: (N it¨s absolutely fine)

Stranger: Draco didn't have to do much other then wait and watch as Harry's stream of consciousnesses washed over him, the feelings, short snippets of conversation and Harry's feeble attempts to try to shock him with gruesome memories of grief and loss and death. Draco leaned back after he had seen what it really was he was interested in, the day in 6'th year when harry had come after him. He pulled out of his mind just as gently as he had entered though he held the eye contact. "I've seen some horrible shit too harry, you would have had better luck by actually using the techniques Severus taught you, even though i know you never listened to him." That was not something he'd seen from Harry's mind however, that little bit he'd learnt from Severus mind himself.

You: Harry glared at him, eyes a bit watery from tears that he was fighting back. So, his feeling for Draco were out in the open and all the other man could do was laugh at him. Typical. He gave a scoff at the words and stood, moving to the dresser where he had set the potions and opened them, dropping the last piece inside of each before offering the other out wordlessly. "I was a fool." He stated. "I couldn't see what Snape was until it was too late and will forever regret it." He admitted. "Drink. We should get going." he added just as somberly.

Stranger: Draco had felt the feelings harry had towards him, truth was once upon a time Draco would have returned them but he'd had that taken out of him quickly enough as soon as his aunt bella had figured it out. He wasn't even going to let himself dwell on it now. Draco frowned at harry. "What do you mean what Snape was?" He asked, he had a feeling Harry must have misunderstood everything.

You: Harry rolled his eyes. "Severus Snape was the best man I ever had the privilege of meeting... Had I known that back then... then I might have been inclined to listen a bit more. As it is... Well, I'm not the same person I was." He admitted. "Now, we should get going."

Stranger: "Sever was never the best anything." Draco said, what on earth could have made Harry think that.

You: Harry shot him another glare. "He's the reason you're still alive. I would show at least some respect." He grumbled.

Stranger: "Sure, that doesn't make him good." Draco said lowly. "it doesn't make him righteous or noble or anything worth celebrating."

You: Harry couldn't handle it any more. Something inside him snapped. "He killed Dumbledor for you, you twit." He snapped. "He helped the Order of the Pheonix rise against Voldemort multiple times. He /died/ to protect me, so I could defeat Voldemort! He protected both of us at the cost of his own life. If you want to show his memory disrespect do it on your own time but make damned sure I'm not around to hear it." He warned. "He is a hero. Which is much less than I can say for you." He scoffed. He knew he probably shouldn't be lecturing the man he needed help from but he just couldn't stand it... not anymore, not after such a clear rejection from the blond.

Stranger: "He did it to serve himself. He never even had enough of a spine to stand up for himself, or your mother, which... well lets not even fucking open that kan of worms. He was a coward, an absolutely vial man, driven by revenge and love - if you can even call it that - an obsession over someone who had been dead for over a decade. He groomed you, and me, to become what we did, just as much as Dumbledore did and don't you dare defending him as well." Draco hissed at him. "He never cared for you, he just couldn't bare shutting those eyes again, because they were /hers/ not becasue /you/ were worth anything."

You: Harry was practically fuming at the words. "What the hell do you know?! You've never looked at anything past yourself! That's all you've ever cared about!" He spat back. "Sure he wasn't perfect but he did his best. He did what was right all you ever did was follow whatever path was put in front of you; constantly handed everything while the rest of us had to work for all of it! You want to know what he's done for you? Use your Legilimency! See how wrong you are."

Stranger: Draco just stared at him for a moment. "You know what? I'm done here. Good luck getting those kids back." He said and got up, sippingh is jacket back up and then exited the room, hurrying downstairs and then out on to the street, stalking off towards the nearest tube station.

You: "Fine! It was a long shot anyways! I should have known you wouldn't do anything if you didn't get anything out of it!" He called after him just as the door slammed behind the blond. He sank down onto the bed in defeat, dropping his head into his hands completely lost as to what to do next.

Stranger: Draco was fuming his entire way home. The utter narcisism of Harry's actions, of how he was so sure he was right all the time, it irked Draco to no end. Why should he help him if all he was going to do was look down on Draco anyways. In many ways Severus might be more alike Harry then he thinks. It made him even more uncomfortable with the feelings Harry's memories had displayed. how attracted he was to Draco, how much he seemed to hate it with his entire being, pushing it away, out of mind.

You: It took a few hours for Harry to calm himself. By the time he did he was filled with regret. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He supposed he could find someone else to try and get information from Henry but... Well he didn't trust anyone. Still... He had pushed Draco away now... Still, he needed to apologize. Maybe if he went to one of his shows...

Stranger: Draco was preforming as part of a smaller orchestra for the opera the next week, it was the final repetition before the premier and as such students and such were welcome to buy cheap tickets to be able to watch the play. He was down in the orchestra ditch, facing the director, leading the piece as Ophelia descended in to her grave.

You: Harry spent the next week gathering as much information as possible on the group that took the children. They had made some progress but not much. However, only a day before Hermoine had received a letter, demanding Harry's death for the Children. Harry was more than willing but Draco's words kept echoing in his head. The kids weren't getting out alive no matter if he did or not. So, when the show came... Harry was there, bouquet in hands as the show finished.

Stranger: Draco had tried not to think too much about Harry, of course his heart when out to the children but it had been a long shot even by the best of circumstances, it hadn't been fair of Harry to demand his help in the first place. That was what he told himself. He'd taken off the tail-coat and was having a smoke just out the back with one of the performance in the opera. He was flirting with him and Draco tried his best not to notice it.

You: Harry approached the two, having sneaked past security, looking a bit nervous as he approached. He waited until he caught Draco's eye, not wanting to interrupt, before giving a small crooked smile and a small wave, flowers tucked in the crook of his arm.

Stranger: "What's this?" Draco asked him, trying to sound composed but failing miserably. The man who had playded the Horatio looked equally perplexed, especially becasue of Draco's reaction to the flowers, no doubt he'd thoguh it was for him first. Who would ever care enough to bring flowers to one of the orchestra?

You: Harry approached looking a bit bashful as he offered the flowers out to the blond. "I... saw your performance." He admitted lamely. "You're much better than I expected." He added before tensing as he realized how that sounded. "I mean! You were amazing! Not that I thought you'd be bad! I've just never really focused on... Well anything musical...." He rushed making things worse and flushing.

Stranger: "Mate, i think you're going to have to do better then that i'f you're trying to win him back?" THe bloke said. That mad Draco smile a bit, wasnt that the truth. He accepted the flowers however, what else was he supposed to do? "I think that's more to do with the fact that you've never been to an opera before. or a consert prior to last week." Draco said.

You: Harry flushed deeper at the other man's words and glanced away though he gave a small snort at Draco's. "Is it that obvious?" He mumbled. "Listen... I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was emotional and stupid. What can I do to make it up to you?" He asked softly.

Stranger: "I dont know, I've never ever done anything that wasnt in my own best interest so i'm not really sure what could make me more sympathetic towards you." Draco said coldly. He heard a whistle from the other guy. "I'll leave you to it, seems you need a talk." He said, patting Draco's shoulder before disaearign back inside.

You: Harry straightened a bit at that. "Fair dis..." He acknowledged with a nod. "I deserved that." He acknowledge. "But to be fair... You do like proving me wrong." He countered with a small smile. "Maybe you could do it this time as well?"

Stranger: "I really don't think i could help you with those kids harry. I saw the article, Greyback and lestrange has them and if ether of them ever saw me again they'd kill me... only first they'd torture me... among other things."

You: Harry bit his bottom lip and nodded. "I know." He nodded. "They're calling for my head." He admitted with a shrug. "Not surprising but you've kinda made me want to keep it where its at." He admitted with a humorless chuckle. "I thought... that maybe... you wouldn't try that skill of your's on Henry?" He asked. "Its a long shot but its the only one I have. If you're still willing, that is... I don't really trust anyone else." He admitted, staring at his feet as he rocked back and forth.

Stranger: "That was to find out who was doing this, i'm not sure what else i could get out of him that you couldn't with sign language." He explained. "I'm not an auror, really you should put together a team, make up a plan and tryto extract them... i think that would be yor best shot."

You: Harry gave another somber nod. "Right." He mumbled softly, shoulders slumping slightly. "Well... Thank you, anyways." He offered with a soft sad smile. "I appreciate you trying." He added before turning to go.

Stranger: "You're also shit at flirting." Draco heard himself saying as Harry turned around. He just needed to get that out there.

You: Harry paused at that, silent for a moment before he began chuckling. "Fair enough. But you were always out of my league anyways, so whats the point of trying?" He countered with a shrug.

Stranger: "RIght, well in that case you can go." Draco mumbled, looking down at the flowers and tossing them in the dumpster, along with the butt of his fag.

You: Harry visibly flinched as the flowers were tossed aside. That stung. "If you didn't like the flowers you could have just said so." He countered with a sigh. "Would I have had a chance anyways?" He asked, gaze curious, obviously worried about how Draco would answer.

Stranger: "What would be the point now?" Draco asked bluntly. "Besides, you dont seem to like me, or have ever liked me. you just think i'm pretty."

You: Harry seemed a bit confused at that. "You're joking right?" He scoffed, he waited a moment before rolling his eyes. "You really are dense. I've never just thought of you as just attractive." He huffed, heart beginning to race, the words coming out a bit forceful as his adrenalin picked up. "Please! You're smart, funny, witty, you demand respect from everyone, your talented and know it... You're practically fearless... You go after whatever you want at the time and don't let anyone hold you back. Sure you're pretty... But if that's all you think you are... all you think I see... Then maybe... Well, maybe you're not as smart as I thought." He huffed, arms folded over his chest as he glanced away. "Or you're just fishing for a bloody compliment and I'm stupid enough to bite."

Stranger: "You think i'm egotistical, heartless and mean." Draco said firmly. "You've said as much, and thought it, multiple times. i've been inside that head of yours. You're pulled between those two, frustration and anger that i dont do what you want me to do and then then you drool over wanting me, trying ot push those thoughts away and failing.

You: Harry scrubbed a hand down his face and frustration. "You didn't pay much attention while you were in there then." He scoffed. "Yeah... I tell myself those thing... That your heartless... think of no one but yourself... A right arse. And sometime..." He sighed, holding himself a bit tighter. "Sometimes I manage to convince myself that their true... But only for a moment." He admitted looking a bit ashamed. "I do try not to think of you the way I do because... Well... Because I'm weak okay!" He spat angrily. Why was his defense mechanism anger? "Because if I allow myself to grow attached to anyone they die! Or they run! Everyone who gets close to me is in danger! Everyone who has died is because of me! I might as well have killed them with my own hands! So yeah, I try to convince myself that you're a horrible human being to protect myself because in realty I'm the monster, just like you said." The last words were a soft pained whisper as he couldn't bring himself to meet Draco's gaze. "Happy now?"

Stranger: Draco shook his head. "We don't know each other, why do you pretend like we do? It's been 6 years since the war, i don't know the first thing about you, and you dont know the first thing about me. What ever feelings you had towards me back in school don't really apply.... I don't think i could be more different from back then if i tried. You make me feel like i haven't grown at all."

Stranger: (brb)

You: Harry's jaw set at that and he nodded. He was silent for a long moment as if fighting with himself. "Fine." He acknowledged. "Maybe we don't....But... I'd like to." He shrugged. "Would you at least let me buy you a drink?" He asked, "Maybe dinner... If I don't piss you off too badly." What did he have to lose....

Stranger: "A drink. fine..." Draco mumbled. "But dont you have some kids to save first?" Draco asked. "I think i'm going to take up mr horatio's offer for tonight." He said though he instantly regretted it. He did always have to come out on top, often to the deprimerat of his relationship to others.

You: "Mr. Horaito?" Harry mumbled piecing together what he meant a bit slowly. He nodded. He was jealous sure but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. "Right. Well, like you said... I'll need a team and I won't be able to get one together until tomorrow." He pointed out, knowing his ties with the ministry had been cut because of the press conference but hoping Draco wasn't aware of it. "So tonight, I suppose I'll simply have the opportunity of enjoying your company... Maybe you can tell me how you became so talent?" He offered.

Stranger: (Oh no i think you misunderstood, i meant that draco implied he would hook up with the actor who played horatio)

You: [No I got it. No worries, I suppose I should have been more clear srry.] *"Mr. Horatio?" Harry mumbled, before the realization hit him, of course Draco wanted to have dinner with the man he had been speaking to.He was jealous sure but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. "Right. Well, like you said... I'll need a team and I won't be able to get one together until tomorrow." He pointed out, knowing his ties with the ministry had been cut because of the press conference but hoping Draco wasn't aware of it. "So tonight, I suppose I'll simply have the opportunity of enjoying your company... Maybe you can tell me how you became so talent?" He offered.

Stranger: "I practiced allot." Draco said flatly. "There isn't really a grand story to it. Allot of practice and being at the right place at the right time... Sleeping with the right person didn't hurt ether." He gave a slight smile. "Harry, I'm not going to hang out with you all night...."

You: Harry gave a huff of feigned amusement at the joke. "Yes, Draco; I am aware. But you said yes to a drink and I count that as a win. No take backs. I've just better make sure its a really long one so you don't run off on me as quickly as I expect you'll want to." He teased.

Stranger: "I said a drink. not tonight unless you'd like to listen to him." Draco nodded back towards the door, meaning the bloke from earlier. "Doing a much better job of flirting."

You: Harry's face fell a bit at that. "Right... Sorry." He mumbled a bit dejected. "Well... for what its worth. I hope you have a nice night." Harry replied, with another sad smile. "Don't have too much fun without me." He teased, though the words seemed a bit more sad than usual.

Stranger: "We'll see." Draco mumbled, that was really all up to the other guy. "Send me an owl once this mess has blown over, whichever way it goes." He mumbled. "You should owl my mother too, she wants to thank you."

You: "Right. Will do." He nodded, knowing he probably wouldn't. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Stranger: "Yeah." Draco sighed. "Talk care Harry." He murmured softly and then went back inside to the backstage aria.

You: It was two days before the news came. Apparently Harry went on the suicide mission after all, though this time, he simply gave himself to Lestrange rather than try any disguises. The news was everywhere he was either presumed dead or soon to be.

Stranger: Draco was saddened by the news but he still felt glade he hadnt taken that drink with harry, it would have made it all that much harder to bear. In any case he was bussy a it was, trying to take care of his mother nad nurse her back to health. SHe'd taken better to Azkaban wthen anyone could have hoped and she wasnt nearly as crazy as the time she had served would suggest.

You: The rest of the world seemed to mourn for a few days before the news blew over. It was another few weeks before Harry managed to get out. Lestrange was dead and the children were alive though a bit battered... Harry however, was in a bad way. Somehow they managed to keep the news quiet which was surprising and despite the ministries

You: ' orders Harry just managed to sneak out or his confinements just in time for one of Draco's shows... flowers in hand.

Stranger: Draco made his first preformance as a soloist, for the first time all the focus was on him as he set the melody for the show. He'd been so nervous he could barely eat or sit down all day, something which wasn't helped by the fact that he had his mother in the crowd, front row in fact, he could see her from where he sat, playing his theremin.

You: Harry made sure he was in the back, close to an exit, making sure he couldn't be seen. He'd wait until the end of the show before sneaking back stage. Regardless, he was blown away by the preformence. He knew Draco was talented but just how talented was something he hadn't expected.

Stranger: Every tone was on point, every vibrato, Draco did the best show of his life and at the end of it as the orchestra took their praise he walked down the front steps, Wrapping his arms rightly around his mother. She was crying pressing a kiss to his forehead and then a rose in to his hand. He lead her back stage, as the applause still shook the hall, wanting to show her what his life was like now.

You: Harry made his way back stage just as they finished, waiting my Draco's dressing room, head bowed. He was certain that no one there knew who he was but the world though he was dead and he needed to keep it that way. Still he held the flowers loosely in the crook of his arm, chocolates in the other.

Stranger: Draco opened the door to the dressing room which was asigned to him for the night and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him, a ghost, a bloody ghost in the flesh. His mother peaked over his shoulder, seeinng who it was and she gasped. "Harry potter." as if she didnt even understood what the words meant)

#drarry #Draco Malfoy #harry potter #rp #omegle

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valtteri-77 · 3 years

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Warning: Long post ahead

I've been biting my tongue on saying something the last 4 days since I've had a lot of time to think and always thought this blog was supposed to just be Valtteri and Tiffany and personal life and experiences shouldn't really come into it but then I realised this is my blog and I should just post what I feel like posting on here.

I've been feeling well and truly utterly like Rubbish for the last 4 days as I've seen another friendship I've been building for over 2 years utterly crumble. Out of respect to the other party I won't be going into much further detail than I've tried my upmost hardest to fix things with them and even outpoured my heart and the result is still the same: I've been Ghosted.

Why do I mention this exactly? I've been looking on the internet the last few days and I've been soul searching. I don't make friends easy but when I do they're close and now it's been ripped away. I've been questioning myself with the internet. 'is it something i'm doing wrong?', 'Am I a bad person to keep getting ghosted', 'is it normal to feel X, Y and Z after being ghosted.'

And every single response comes up with dating. Here's a guy I dated and he left me after 2 dates without a word. Things were going good and he left me. Ect. Heck, even Gotye's 'somebody I used to know' is a song about being ghosted Romantically.

I've never once been on a date or fancied someone or even had a crush and most of this information did not particularly help me on the Romantic side of things.

Which draws me to the point of this post. I've had 4 (sets of) friends, and every single one of my friendships has ended the same way. I've been abandoned and left to pick up the puzzle pieces and wonder where it all went wrong while the other party goes on with their life and makes new friends instantly like I never existed in the first place. I always wonder if it's something wrong with me for this to keep happening.

But every time I go to hunt for some advice it's just all dating which frankly doesn't help me in the slightest.

So I decided to post this because I feel it's important to say that things like this also happen within friendships, and not just with dates and romantic relationships. If you've felt anything between regret, anger, cursing the other person, weeping, like your world has come crumbling down over a broken relationship of any kind it's normal. It's normal to question where it all went wrong and it's normal to feel utterly rubbish if you do all your best to fix things and it goes unanswered. Just because you haven't been romantically involved with someone for years doesn't mean it doesn't and will not hurt, especially when it feels like you were good not even 2 days earlier.

Friendships are just as complex as romantic relationships. You care and nurture them and sometimes you don't find the right person. Sometimes you end up with someone toxic and not right for you and sometimes it feels like they're your best friend and they leave in the blink of an eye.

So if you've experienced anything in a relationship chances are the same thing can happen in a friendship. Sometimes in a similar way and sometimes in wildly different ways. It can break a person and can scar and scare a person if the same thing keeps happening over and over. It takes time to heal from it and no one should ever be made to feel a broken relationship (especially time and time again) is entirely their fault, especially when you're the one who has tried their hardest to fix it.

So long as you have done all you can and put your heart and soul into every action you do to fix things while remaining dignified you cannot and will not be held fully accountable for how your friend/relationship turns from that point on. If they choose to ignore you then, as much as it hurts, as I'm learning myself, you need to forget and move on since if they cannot take you at your most vulnerable and heartfelt then maybe they never really deserved you in the first place.

Lastly the other point of this is I need a place to kind of rant about this. I needed to put my thoughts on a page so that they're there, off my chest, as I find it a good place to release and leave them there and move on. I'm sorry it's ended up so long 😅

If you've made it this far then thank you for reading this, if you're interested in and don't really mind me going 'Look at Tiff and Valtteri!' every few minutes or spewing random facts then feel free to send me a DM, I could use the distraction right now.

And to Whom it may concern in the world, fuck you but thank you. You may break me down but thank you for the time we did share together.

#My thoughts and Rambles #warning long post #About me personally #Friendship stuff that I needed to talk about #if for nothing else but my own sanity by writing my own thoughts down somewhere so I can move on

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fishblurrrr · 7 years

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#ThingsToTellMyEx

I’ve seen a shamisen in a bluegrass band, but our isolation era will be closed to trade for 11 more years. For this time, please enjoy Martin Scorsese’s Silence.

* Ed’s married. He never got sloppy seconds from all your girlfriends. Not this one. * Our middle school band director cannot possibly be dead. I saw him at ROMP unless it was his ghost. Couldn’t say hi because of inhibiting company of parents and impracticality of wheelchairs on outdoor ground.

Beet Boy, we’re not riding again.

I did some degree of every item on your to do list for reciprocation from you and you rewarded me with three years of rejection, one more thing-ing, and bringing other women to judge me as competition. Money was exchanged at two points. IMDB credits and overbooking opportunities mostly. Gobstoppers until you treat me as a human deserving of human equanimity and compassion.

If you want someone to know you’re angry, call off your teen girl squad already and come in person to a semi-private space such as by Twitter DM or Tumblr question. Tumblr questions are anonymous when you check the box for anonymity. I do love answering these if you wonder about what our current social feeling is.

If you need an answer today you must come via Twitter. If I don’t have an answer for you today we arrange a deadline at the end of next week to air feelings that have been worked out privately during the week. If we worked them out by ourselves, we take tea together to enjoy each other’s company. If it still can’t be solved, more space to work out emotions is likely beneficial.

Many and divers attempts to guess what the hell you would want to settle are below in the read more link. Be safe out there, Tiger.

The Tiger play platonic rule: Tigers are sort of sexy. But transmogrification is for asexual play around children. You deserve the good chemicals those babies put out for your happiness levels. Kids and animals deserve safety and support while they are being pleasant signs of life and need of love. I know you will be safe around children because I don’t want to increase the amount of space between you and children. I don’t want it to ever come to that point and I have faith that it won’t.

I also have faith you believe alcohol is wasted time and tastes like an antiseptic solution. 60% of people who live with depression self medicate with alcohol. You can replace that behavior with an addiction that gets you money and friends. More on this below and in the Habits: the Power of Routine book.

Routine doesn’t always kill you. Some routines save you. I am always available online to talk to you about routines you have tried and adventures you have avoided. Anyone who hurts you has pain making them thrash around like an animal in a snare. You have a choice whether to put it out of its misery, or stop using traps. That’s called ENTRAPMENT. It is illegal in my country. Settling anger: 1. Deal with your emotions. That’s on you. Bringing bombs to the other person doesn’t destroy THEM, it destroys your chance of bringing them over to your way of thinking. 2. You have 24 hrs to tell them CALMLY you are angry. Don’t do it if you’re crying or rage quitting Twitter, but don’t let it go more than a day either. 3. When you tell them you are angry, don’t make fun or call them names. That’s a bomb. LABELS are not SOLUTIONS. LABELS are BOMBS that ruin everyone’s day. We were enjoying a nice movie THAT WAS NOT ABOUT YOU. 4. Ask for a parley. Don’t let them settle it just then; schedule å time and place about 5-7 days off and tell them to think about their own feelings and needs until then. No more fighting. CEASE FIRE. Just, “Why am I angry?” “When I wanted to kill the man, what was he doing? What was I doing? Would I let someone say or do what I said or did? What would my response to me be? What was the moment the bomb went off, conversationally speaking?” Why do you have pain, but more importantly, why does your enemy have pain? 5. At the end of the standdown, calmly say what you figured out. Start with THEIR pain in the form of a question. “Was it *I* who forcibly inserted sporks into your rectum??? I’ve been hearing a lot about them from you and was just wondering if you had a new obsession or if I maybe let my coworkers in on the stuff you did before that is causing me to lose money, time, and self esteem.”

6. You are in pain! Tell them you are in pain! This is the point when you stop making rectum jokes and put away the sharp things in a metal box because someone could get hurt and this is YOUR pain we are talking about here. Not some trivial seasonal affective spork-in-rectum pain, but YOUR LIEF WILL NEVER BE HAPPY BECAUSE I STILL AM FAIREST PRINCESS IN WACKYLAND. 7. It’s now time to sort out the quantifiable actions that can make each person happy. YOU are suffering, and you know where to get the pain pill, and you’ll take it but you need their help to remind you to keep taking it. You care enough to stop triggering their pain, but they have to stop triggering yours if they want a happy ending. 8. My spork in rectum talk is way out of line and inappropriate. I apologize for my word choices. Please save your questions about my sexual identity until the end of time. You are not acting like one who wants to date me. Yet, I am sorry to have spoken hastily and offended you. Unless it was fair and constructive criticism to the opposition who keeps throwing noise into my stories and work time.

-- Conflict resolution process by Thich Nhat Hanh. From Anger: Wisdom For Cooling the Flames Not that kind of happy ending, Beet Boy.

Parakeets make great walkie talkies.

T. Berry Brazelton’s Touchpoints is the only baby book worth its salt because it tells you how they think. This method works and explains what they’re doing until age four when their personality gels and you can reason with them more. More is likely not always for boys but really is always for most girls.

Wheelchairs are sometimes, not always.

I’m an aunt who has stage mother plans for her nephew.

If you want to be a parent but not so much, borrow a dog.

Protests are about blocking the streets and stating the consequences via musical mantra, not about throwing bricks at cops. But I know you’re not that dumb. If you want @MeAmMyShadow to read the news, follow her and RT her tweet pleasing kthnx =^_^= If you’re an ex, this could be a way of signing off on this post as a friendship contract.

Happiness is NOT a warm gun. The best thing Kurt Kobain ever did was pose with a kitten on his chest without flipping off the camera.

Don’t take my picture while I’m throwing up. And if you do, don’t post it to the internet. Kay? THEENX. A child is an extension of her parent into the future and her parent is an extension of the child into the past, to paraphrase Thich Nhat Hanh. Please don’t need someone else to tell you when to stop. Look her in the eyes and read her expression about your joke.

The Johnny Depp mural should show him as Willy Wonka but that wouldn’t sell as many of Andrea’s Candies. Still haven’t caught a Pokémon there.

If we’re going to be friends we need a friendship contract. In WRITING. AGREED TO BY ALL PARTIES. The doom song from Invader Zim may be sung in every room of your house. Your Doom is in every room.

I am not mad at you or your spouse but don’t want to meet my ex’s spouse and baby until I am happily married. I can’t afford a baby gift right now but would like to befriend him when he is older. A friendship contract is needed so there are no mixed signals. It must be agreeable to all parties undersigned.

If a friendship contract is reached we will start a multi-family band at the end of the isolation era.

I apostatize one of you. The other was reframed.

Apostatizing is for the people. Faith is a private practice not to be compromised.

Phil was DOA. Questions regarding his sexual identity remain unanswered. The transmogrified tigers will savagely maul anyone who continues to attempt to out him or choose the time of his coming out via their overly curious gaydar.

(Phil is an atmospheric phenomenon not unlike a lenticular cloud. He sees the world from both sides now. Other people see a mermaid, or their own shadow puppet hands or anomalisa.)

(From the great beyond Phil sends me Twitter followers who are into MMA and pro wrestling. You don’t know Phil, y’all. You never will. We haven’t spoken in some time but I’ll never forget Phil. He was my security blanket and he kept me safe at night. He never took excessive liberties with me and wouldn’t let anyone else either. His jokes were kinda stale but he had an charismatic integrity enviable by all.)

Baby I’m in the Mood For You is an Odetta cover of a Bob Dylan song about an abusive relationship. I believe it means that there are extenuating circumstances to the abuse. If you only knew our different normal we’re living, you wouldn’t be adding more stress to our lives.

Sometimes a song is just a song. If a mantra is hurting you change the mantra or change the station. Or turn on the Mexican Radio and watch some wrestling geckos.

Jamaican dancehall keeps me happy and makes me feel empowered. It’s the most impersonal fuckyou card one may send.

Fuckyou cards are not meant to be received but if they actually are, I have as many nerves left as a dulcimer has strings. Consider your next words and my reactions to them to the count of ten before adding more fuel to the fire.

My church was a stop on the underground raliroad. People should know of this. I don’t remember who I am referencing in the sentence prior to this one.

I play ukulele and write poetry now but just whistle at the birds mostly.

Wedding gifts stress me out. I don’t want them to be a condition of the isolation era. Family first, friends one day. Baby gifts can turn into DIY or otaku crafts.

I do not work with or for people who have feelings for me without a professional contract in writing. If you are married and take me on just for feelings with no repayment I will run so far away we will always have the International Dateline between us.

An A-B conversation is an A-B conversation unless C would feel hurt by what’s going on. A or B if not both know when C should be there. If C has to be there all the time it’s an A-B-C conversation. C can and should request A-B-C conversations when evidence is elsewhere that C is getting hurt.

The whole goddamned alphabet is not an A-B, A-C, or A-B-C conversation. C-Q conversations can C-U-R their way out of A-B-C conversations until A-B and A-C conversations are healthy and positive again. When grade Zs want to know nun-yuh-bizness, there are standup specials on Netflix. They will want the best details of what the comedian is up to. I don’t care about your rape jokes; Jim Gaffigan is being buried in a steakhouse. Your mother is not in the conversational alphabet. She can just go love herself. I mean this from the bottom of my anhedonic heart. Maybe sleep will help.

For anyone scared or afraid, let’s get real about rape.

There is a whole Reddit thread about rapists and it contains men confused about what consent is, or who live with depression and are more depressed after it happens. Some feminists are angry because the sympathy about depression in the thread looks like being a rape apologist.

I’m going to look at this complexity of situation at the risk of looking like an apologist. I’m not a rape apologist-- rape is a thing which should never, ever be. You and your date deserve better. But if you and your date don’t understand your triggers a complicated maze of morals and ethics may be found and we don’t want a snap judgement to ruin anyone’s life.

Depressed people may or may not be rapists. Men may or may not be abuse victims. There is a spectrum of graduated response to determining if someone is a sex offender, whether you can settle it yourself, whether to end the relationship, whether there should be legal consequences. 1. Get yourself to safety. No relationship is as important as you being physically and emotionally safe. 2. Get your head checked before you report. Don’t report from the emergency room when you’re in pain. 3. Do get yourself checked out physically. You may need Plan B. You don’t want to get infected anywhere moist and sensitive. 4. Deal with the emotions, then decide the relationship, then estimate the outcomes for both you and the other person, AND THE RISK FOR OTHER PEOPLE, RATIONALLY NOT ANXIOUSLY, then report. 5. You can’t stay in a pattern that is damaging to you, your physical health, your mental health. You have to take care of yourself before you can take on the Godly mission of caring for another person.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/sex/11216629/Bipolar-disorder-and-sex-Its-time-to-talk-about-this-emotional-minefield.html

6. Reporting has consequences that can ruin someone’s life. I have an online friend who lives with bipolar depression who is on the sex offender registry several states away. He told me what happened to him was that a romantic partner reported on him when he had an impulse control problem during sex, hurt her, and frightened her. He had to register his name, but life continued as normal until his father died. The he of course became very depressed. He failed to report a change of address and had to go to prison for five years. I want to write to him. I wrote the card and made a plan to make sending it a reasonable risk-- use a P.O. Box in a town I don’t live in but have business in on a semi-regular basis. Or don’t leave a return address if I have to let go of the relationship. I think I could use a P.O. Box as the return address then change my P.O. Box information if I estimate the risk to be unsafe in the future. This is not a romantic relationship with a prisoner; rather, it is a reasonable risk of trust on someone who encouraged me to write and had pleasant and respectful conversations with me during a time of of own depression while I was figuring out how to plan my career. He had a bad reporter and a bad judge and had to face legal consequences for a mental health crisis which could limit the rest of his life. He deserves a better new normal than prison after the loss of his family member. Realistically, I don’t have to be the friend who tells him he is valuable, and a male friend would be safer. But I don’t believe in dropping someone who didn’t give up on me, and his sister who posted the address is giving the vote of confidence to him that people who write him will do so with a reasonable level of risk to trust, and will not be in excessive levels of danger.

7. Not everyone on the sex registry is a child molester, but if a depressed person is on it, parents are not going to trust the depressed person around their children. This also ruins the depressed person’s life; effectively society decides they can’t be a parent and kids can’t even visit them on Halloween with parents present and they get a visit from the police every year at that time.

7.5 Prison also ruins people’s lives. The justice system is harder on men than women and harder on minorities than white people. Justice? A depressed person with impulse control issues can have a careless angry date rape report and a bad judge and then go to prison for five years for failure to update their address on record. Prison is an overwhelmingly solitary routine and routine is already a love hate relationship that can save or ruin a depressed person. The prison staff may behave vidictively while they are in, other inmates can be rough and abusive and the unintentional rapist can become himself a victim of abuse. Mental healthcare in prisons is not necessarily sympathetic toward healing the unintentional rapist. He can come out worse than he went in. If he comes out the same, he is missing time developing his career. He may have to be his own boss in an independent business with self confidence compromised by time in prison plus the depression he had in the first place.

8. This means reporting is a necessary but graduated step of dealing with impulse control issues in sex. You don’t want to ruin someone’s life just to win points in a breakup. You only do that if the pussy grabber is actually a person who chooses to be evil and needs to be shunned by all of society.

9. There is a continuing war of perspectives between survivors of domestic abuse and the supporters of people living with mental health conditions. Both people are survivors! They both need happiness and contact with other humans or else are at risk of suicidal behavior. If all other people are unsafe or feel unsafe around you, potentially you can live with someone whose sexual orientation does not swing your way, though I am not sure what a depressed bisexual person with bipolar depression would do if they wound up on the registry or in prison. Possibly see only a homosexual person of the opposite sex for friendship and hire escorts for sexual relations? But then the escorts or prostitutes may be in danger, which is why I think that is an unsafe vocation and I wish people who live with bipolar depression could look at pornography but not call an escort or gay friend when in crisis. But it is so much better to kiss men and not be that into them when hypomanic than it is to be rough with an escort. 10. You don’t know where on the spectrum your rape charge falls until you are in that situation, but the statistics say if you are raped in your life time your rapist will be someone you knew already more likely than a drug user or mentally ill stranger. And a mentally ill friend could be a rapist who does not want to be an abuser and will be more depressed that the rape happened. Think carefully and calibrate your morals to find the least amount of suffering for the most people.

I will never work with anyone whose past feelings for me lead to me getting yelled at for a whole ten hour workday, or who allows friends and family to yell at me for a whole ten hour workday. Not even a promise of sex is enough for me to compromise my emotional security.

Ijime. いじめ。https://yumikomusictherapy.com/2016/02/10/ijime-bullying-in-japan/

Imagine what you say is multiplied by 1,000 times each of your fans on Twitter. That is the number of cuts your attacks inflict on the victim’s inner thigh. If you then come back and say the victim is gross for not getting a cleaner shave or should not shave there at all, you are an inhuman monster and I hope someone drains your eyeballs of their eyeball juices. See the novel A Tale For the Time Being to understand how a well-meaning school girl who wants everything in its right place may become an inhuman monster or slutbag “whore”. There are not enough scripts on the internet to reframe the shame on both people.

Your comments about my day job and/or act are supposed to be accompanied by your face showing empathy and questions about what I tried already. If you just say, “You have a problem/you make problems/you need therapy/this is a medical board letter ordering you to therapy” and the like up to 1000 times, YOU ARE AN INHUMANE MONSTER. Come via Twitter DM or GTFO. Come in person via Twitter DM if you ever wonder if I might be your friend. Friends generally don’t have to ask. If I give you an example of who a friend is and you go behind my back and attempt to turn my friend against me, no you are not a friend, YOU ARE AN INHUMAN MONSTER.

It is frustrating to know the bully is also the victim, I find. You have pain. Am I ALL of the cause of ALL of it? There are no people making screwed up faces in your daily life? Are they avoiding you? Who was the last person who made you very happy or took your pain away? Are they comfortable with the frequency under which you ask them to take the pain? Are you also taking away some of their pain?

It is an unsatisfactory relationship if you are always taking the pain away and never having your own taken. Also if you always bring the pain and never contribute to people’s joy.

”Idiot” is a label. I used to worry about being called one, now I realize it sounds twice as idiotic to call any human being that. There’s a Mark Twain quote that I can’t entirely remember but love about keeping your mouth shut for fear of being called a fool but open your mouth and remove all doubt. The thing is, you are removing the doubt without actually finding a specific solution to your problem. If the problem is ignorance you educate the ignorant person. An idiot is someone you have given up on because they either have a measurable inability to learn and remember, or they get too violent or fearful to receive any lessons. Convince a man against his will; he’ll be of the same opinion still. Maybe make it look like something he finds entertaining already? I am not sure where that suggestion came from but it’s a good one IMHO. Don’t make light or dark of therapy. If you are waiting for the nice young men in their clean white coats to come and take you away, it will be the boys in blue who actually do it. If you routinely are practicing hatred and sorrow in your head, or the SAME PERSON sets you off every day just by walking into the room, TALK TO SOMEONE who sees a lot of people with the same problem or problem set. Start with friends, then church pastor, then community services, then a therapist you get referred to by your general practictioner.

I am not a therapist. I am a hobbyist who reads psychology and Buddhist literature and thinks she is practicing active listening when in conversation with you. The hardest problems that beget new problems might be an offline wiki or anonymous blog. It may behoove you to start one of these to sort your feelings before you tell someone you are angry.

When monsters are wild rumpus-ing in my imagination, I can soothe them with samba and jazz, Kpop, anime, or BABYMETAL. REAL MONSTERS...NEVER SHOW UP! I can think happy thoughts and fly away from imaginary monsters and super freaks but you real ones must come to @euphoriafish via Twitter to throw down. Twitter is the stranger gate. If you know me on a longer winded network such as email or Facebook or LinkedIn or Stage32, use that one. I give up on Diaspora. That is in writing. I can’t get anyone to use it. Twitter DM or e-mail is best to decide where we go from here.

You are hurting yourself when you contribute to toxic stories of your imagination. You are bottling anger which should be taken to a real space where things may be settled. I have one such space on each of my Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Gmail.

If you are breaking our friendship contract, you will receive mail with your name intentionally misspelled. Or an emoji zoo. 🌼🐹🐮🐰👑🌟🐱💧💦🐎🐎🐎🐎🐧🌙🐬🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐠🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐞❄️❄️❄️☀️🌅🌊?????????????????????🐡🐡🐡🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐡🐡

We need new language that isn’t full of vindictive hate statements.

Sign language may prove useful to deaf parents and new babies. Wireless headphones for the television doubly so.

A friendship contract spells out whether our friendship has romantic potential, only friendship potential, or only professional potential.

I am no man’s Virginia Woolf and I do not mince words about the demon rum. That said, your feelings and depression take priority over any plans to save your health. NOT YOUR SOUL WHICH IS UP TO YOU. YOUR HEALTH. BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO BRILLIANT AND CLEVER AND NICE TO DIE OF A POISONED LIVER.

Your habit needs a reframe and it won’t ever be too late. Every moment is a moment in which you can find your alcohol triggering behavior and replace the alcohol use with something else you’re addicted to that actually brings you a result you like. This info from HABIT: THE POWER OF ROUTINE book. If your reframes aren’t working I hope you pee before taking the next drink of water and that you drink all the water, juice, and coffee the bar has to offer. Grape juice without alcohol is as good for your heart as wine or chocolate. If you know someone who is drinking too much I hope you either send them a glass of juice and take their keys or get a charismatic wingman to do it for you if you don’t want to hear the noise of dismissal.

Trust is a pattern of the things you say and do to the person you love. If there is no love there is no trust, and trusting a former enemy is acceptance of the risk involved. Don’t trust if you don’t accept the risk. This bit inspired by both Amanda Palmer’s The Art of Asking and someone on Twitter who is a bit more bitter and jaded about asking. If you accept the gamble, rehearse both being noble and modest when you win and being diplomatic and calmly measured when you lose.

Trust may be won back with more actions and words of love. It does not happen overnight. It is a practice.

Watch Hidden Figures if you love science and want to love people too.

Namaste is parakeet for EXTERMINATE!

#ThingsToTellMyEx love January 2017 friendshipIsNOTaWarmGun

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