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growatt · 10 months

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How Long Does a Power Outage Last?

Power outages come at any time of day, in just about any place, and often at inconvenient times. These outages quickly and hazardously disrupt the daily lives of thousands, if not more. Each time that the power goes out, every single person is asking themselves, “How long does a power outage last?”

It’s a question that we’ve all asked ourselves. It’s a normal way to react to a bad situation. You want to know just how long you’ll be without the power that keeps your life moving forward throughout the day.

Most power outages can be restored within hours, but those caused by storms or violent winds that damage electrical lines and equipment can linger for days or even weeks.

There are plenty of ways to know how long a power outage lasts. You can learn via notification from the local power bureau, research past outages, and call the utility company. The most important thing to look for is what exactly caused the power outage. This can tell you how long you’ll be without electricity if you can understand the process behind getting the power back up and running.

What Caused the Power Outage

As mentioned before, let’s take a look at what typically causes a power outage. Losing power happens for countless reasons. This article will cover some of the most common all over the world.

Storm Damage

Imagine driving to work and suddenly coming upon a crowd of trucks around a live power line laying in the middle of the road.

The night before, there was likely a massive storm that had strong enough winds to take trees down and the power lines with them.

A storm is one of the more common causes of power outages, notably in places with high winds and severe thunderstorms throughout the stormy season. For example, most of the power outages during hurricane season come from damaged equipment from the storm surge.

A downed power line can take as little as 2-3 hours for a crew to get out and fix them, but when the storm is bigger, you can expect the power to stay out for days, or sometimes even weeks. The extent of the damage and the efficiency of your local area’s electric crew will make a big difference.

Other aspects of the weather will change the game entirely. Lightning can play a part in turning the lights off. When it finds an electric line to make contact with, the surge of power will course through the system and eventually overload the equipment, leading to failure.

This can overload transformers, leading to a complete overhaul and necessary installation of new equipment, often meaning multiple days of work.

Overloaded Circuits and Overuse

At home, you can experience a power outage simply from blowing a circuit when you use too many devices at once.

This is often an easy fix. All you need to do is head to the circuit breaker and flip the switch that’s been activated. You can’t return to exactly what you were doing, and you may need to look into something like a portable power station to provide the additional power necessary for whatever task is at hand.

Equipment Failure

When there is a high demand for electricity in a certain area, not all equipment is built to handle such large loads. As a result, the equipment will fail and need to be fixed.

Depending on the piece of equipment, the failure can mean the power is out for hours, but can also mean it’s out for days.

There are even occasions in which different utility companies will have to reduce output to certain areas and limit each household's use for a certain period of time.

Ways to Know How Long the Power Outage Lasts

Notifications from Local Power Bureaus

Hopefully, the local power company has a system that sends out alerts to its service area when the power goes out. This is often the best way to have some idea of how long the power outage lasts.

Unfortunately, these aren’t always fully accurate and you can find a more precise answer through other methods.

Estimates Based on Past Outage Times

If you’ve experienced power outages in your area before, you may be able to know how long you’ll be without power. If you can recall another time when a line went down, you can use that as a reference point to understand what this time may be like.

This gives the most accurate time estimate if you know why the power is out. Some companies are great at getting the lights back on, but not all of them are going to be as fast as others.

Call the Electricity Bureau

If you really want a straightforward answer, go ahead and try just calling the power company. They can explain the situation and let you know exactly what they’ve done to help resolve it as well.

Prepare for Short & Long-term Outages

Regardless of how long the power outage may last, you will want to be prepared for when the day inevitably comes.

Growatt’s portable power stations are a great way to ensure that you still have power when your neighbors don’t.

The INFINITY 1500, INFINITY 1300, and the VITA 550 all do a fantastic job at storing power for a long time, ensuring that they are ready for an emergency scenario that requires electricity with little notice.

Each of these devices allows multiple devices to run at once, meaning you can continue with your regularly scheduled operations when necessary. This can work for multiple people, making sure the whole family has power when they need it most.

When the storm continues, you can take a look at Growatt’s solar generators. Pairing a portable power station with solar panels allows you to continue to produce and store electricity even after the stored power runs out. This can be a long-term and sustainable way to continue with your life when the power company isn’t taking care of the problem for you.

Final Thoughts

A power outage can last anywhere from a couple of minutes to a few weeks depending on what’s going on. Preparation is the key to these scenarios so you can be ready to continue on with your life as if nothing had happened at all.

Don’t leave it up to the power company anymore. Bring yourself into a position of control and store all the necessary power you need with the right portable power station.

source: https://growattportable.com/blogs/news/how-long-does-a-power-outage-last

#power outage #blackout #home backup

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 3 years

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Hello! I was wondering if you could please write something about how the Fellowship (+ Thorin?) Would help a s/o who's Disabled and Chronically ill. Like she has a lot of symptoms like chronic pain, chronic fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing at times, difficulty walking at times, higher sensitivity to the cold, difficulty talking at times, and anxiety, depression and executive dysfunction?

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, namely my Autism, Anxiety, Sleep Apnea, a really bad Overbite, Raynaud's Syndrome, Asthma, etc, so I'd really appreciate an Imagine like this. I have a really weird disorder where one of my legs is longer than the other, and it's been causing me a lot of pain and difficulty walking lately, and people have been bullying me for it a lot too, so I could really use a Comfort Imagine right now. Thanks so much hun!!

It's no problem! I'm glad I can provide some comfort!! For each character, I'll use a specific struggling area, to make it a bit easier!! I hope I got these accurate enough, and of there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! You are strong, beautiful and so, so amazing!! Keep being you!! ❤❤

Help (The Fellowship// Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Aragorn (Autism)

Aragorn has known you for a long time, so helping with your autism is not new for him

He's particularly experienced in reading your emotions and meeting your needs, whether it's helping you out of stressful situations or calming you down, he's there 🥺

If there are large and boisterous gatherings in Rivendell, its almost guaranteed that you can become over-stimulated quickly, and Aragorn immediately senses this (spidey senses õoõ)

He's fast to find your hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance

If that doesn't seem to help, he'll instantly stop what he's doing and take you out of the room

If you're someone who prefers lots of space and little physical contact, he is 100% respectful of this and asks if you'll let him touch or hug you (very much gentleman 😌)

If ever you're confronted by someone of importance, Aragorn is right by your side to ease some of the tension

Sometimes there are things you find difficult to say or get out of your system

The king seems to know exactly what it is and will help you out by saying it or asking you simple questions that you can easily answer

And he always reminds you, no matter WHAT

YOU ARE NOT STUPID 😤😡

You may struggle with some parts of your life, but every day, he's constantly telling you that you're very intelligent and kind

His patience is unending and he'll never let you think down on yourself

Overall, Aragorn is always someone and reminding you that it's all going to be okay ❤❤

Legolas (Anxiety)

Most nights, Legolas keeps watch (since elves don't require much sleep) and notices that you jolt awake out of the random

Now, most of the Fellowship notices that you're usually awake and ready to go before anyone else

But Legolas is really the one to address you first

You were a bit nervous to explain, since you didn't want to worry him or the great of the fellowship, amount the other disadvantages you have

He gently encouraged you, and finally, you explained to him your sleep apnea

Yeah, he was very concerned

I mean, his blue eyes widened with terror when you told him that you could basically die in your sleep if you weren't attentive enough 🙃

Legolas, from now on, sleeps directly next to you, or keeps extra careful watch over you at night

Because he could NEVER see his precious mortal friend become injured... Or worse 🥺🥺❤

The other members had noticed a change in his behaviors towards you as well...

Gimli teased him whenever he caught Legolas giving you some extra lembas bread or offered to carry you 👉👈

You really tried to assure Legolas that it wasn't a big deal when you were awake, since you're aware of your breathing situation

But still 😤

Legolas will always bring you comfort and take great care of you, and that will NEVER CHANGE

Because he loves you very much ❤🦋

Frodo (Anxiety)

Frodo is familiar with the feeling of great anxiety, seeing he had a stress-free life while living in the Shire and suddenly was forced to carry a piece of jewelry all the way to giant ass volcano

It's easy for you two to comfort each other and seek refuge in thoughts and feelings ❤

He's not super comfortable with the thought of you having a panic attack though...

Only because he's never had one

It starts to give him a panic attack whenever you have one around him the first time 😳-

Any time you begin to breathe heavy or hyperventilate, halfling boy is hot at your heels, rubbing your back and reminding you to breathe gently

(So many hugs, if you're up for it)

After you calm down, he's constantly checking on you, asking if you need anything etc.

Really, he just wants to know if he can help 🥺

And even with the weight and stress of carrying the ring, Frodo manages to cheer you up somehow

Samwise (Asthma)

Sam has never had to deal with asthma once in his life

He's very nervous when the subject is brought, afraid it might trigger something inside of you 🥺👉👈

But you just chuckle, assure him that it's alright, and you have ways of keeping it under control

And now, he wants to know everything about it, just to have the awareness in case something happens

Sam just wants to protect you forever, and this was a great way for him to start

He constantly reminds Aragorn that you'll need breathing breaks and will convince Gandalf to let you ride on his horse

He'll scold Pip and Merry if they are trying to drag you around and be silly, because as he says

"You'll rouse him/her/them up! We can't have Y/N gettin injured!" 🤨😠

Sam is MOM

As always, he's very kind and always makes sure your needs are met ❤🥺

Pippin and Merry (Raynaud's Syndrome)

Very confused halfings 🤔

Also extremely concerned!

You were eating one of the lesser pleasurable nights

It was cold and rainy, and a fire couldn't be started, not to mention the quiet arguments of Aragorn and Gandalf in the nearby woods

And Pip's eyes widened when he saw the tips of your petite fingers begin to pale upon hearing Aragorn mention Orcs

"What's wrong with your hands?!" He squeaked, pointing towards your now white-colored fingertips

You hadn't even noticed, nor felt, considering they were numb anyways

Merry looked over his cousin's shoulder and his eyes also widened, not with fright, but wonder

They were both fascinated with your condition, convinced that you were casting some spell Gandalf showed you

Although you reassured them it was just an extremely frustrating inconvenience that you had, among other things

So from then on, the disastrobus duo did their best to keep you out of the cold (and stressful situations!!)

As a distraction, the pair will tell you great stories of the shire, doing little dances and skits that always cheer you up 🥴

Sometimes, they can be a little rambunctious though...

Merry will pick up on this fact quickly, and nudge Pippin to get him to calm down

Even though it may not feel the best

They find your syndrome absolutely fascinating!! 🤔🤔

All in all, these two are always up for keeping your beautiful smile on your face and your spirits high!! ❤🌺

Boromir (Depression)

Throughout the journey, Boromir has always found an easy way to make you smile

After all, he himself has a fascinating way of brightening anyone's spirits

Yours included ❤

Boromir may not have great stories from The Shire, like Pip and Merry, but he sure has a lot of positive things to say

He'll often suggest sparring with the two troublemaking halflings, just so you can see him goof up and get knocked over 🥺

If the nights become cold and weary, he'll give you a warm hug or a nudge on the shoulder

And a few words of helpful encouragement along the lines of;

"Don't fret Y/N. You have more strength than you'll ever know."

"Let our spirits never dampen! We've come this far!" 😊

He's also an incredible listener

Boromir wants to hear what you have to say if you ever need to rant or get something off of your chest

And don't think for a second that he would ever judge you 😤

Son of Gondor sees past all of your insecurities and knows you for your beautiful, amazing self ❤❤

Gimli (Walking disadvantages)

As you travel across great plains and mountains, your limp doesn't go unnoticed by Gimli

It may take him a while to open up about it, since he's afraid he might offend you in some way

And once he asks you, you inform him that it's a difficulty that unfortunately cannot be changed any time soon

And where you come from, lots of people tease and bully you about it

He did NOT handle it well 😳

"wHAT BLUBBERING DULL-MINDED PIGNUTS-" 🤬

Although this Dwarf is short and a bit slow at times

He's fascinatingly strong 😳

And so, he makes it his duty to be your designated carrier 🥺

At first, your a tad skeptical...

I mean, he's only around 4 feet tall...

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM THROW THAT HUGE AX AROUND?!

Gimli will happily carry you great distances when you need a break, and even longer

(Sometimes it's just to show off around the others-)

"Gimli, are you sure you don't want a break?"

"Aye lass! The strength of Dwarves is unending!" 😌

*struggling to breathe*

11/10, fantastic dwarf, will never let you down!!

Thorin (Executive Dysfunction)

Another Dwarf??

Absolutely

Thorin himself has trouble keeping composure with his time management (and sense of direction 🙄)

This means that he'll have an undying amount of patience for you and you only

There's just something about you that he fond of, and it fills in that little sassy, brooding place in his heart

Can also relate to you whenever you grow frustrated at the setback of your journey or lack of sleep

Is 100% willing to help you find your lost belongings (and once again, ONLY YOU)

Thorin will literally make the whole traveling party stop so that you can put something in your bag and make sure that you put it somewhere you'll remember

Always happy to give you extra gentle reminders of keeping your pack closed

The company is utterly SHOCKED with how he treats you

I mean, this man has always been extremely stubborn and hard headed

But when you show up, it's another person he can easily relate and share frustrations with

Also a master at organization?!? 🤔

The one thing he could do successfully was organizing the damn journey and traveling company, so ofc he's gonna be good at that 😂

Yeah, Thorin definitely has a soft spot for you

King under the mountain will never run out of patience and kindness for you 😌💙

Sorry these took so long!! I hope you like them!! ❤❤

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practicalmagicintuitions · 3 years

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“The fates lead the willing and drag the unwilling”

I was thinking about that last MT podcast HC had when he mentioned stoicism and a book I have but I haven’t read yet. So I decided to deep dive in a little bit because I studied philosophy at the university at a very basic level but I always wanted to know more, so this seems a good occasion. I am also interested in what HC could see in this philosophy school. I think we all know at this point he is interested in things that interest his people, not necessarily him or he is dropping ideas, new things fast. So one part of this will be a summary of stoicism because I feel many people have misconceptions or don’t know what is this just saying this is sh*t even don’t have the slightest idea about it. The other part will be a little HC armchair analysis by me throughout this topic. And I also decided to read the book he mentioned - Viktor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning - and maybe I will walk through it or give you a summary if you interested.

Bare with me, because this turned out to be long, but I had to get out his from my system.

Not soon after the pandemic and the lockdown started in 2020 Penguin Random House said the print sales of Marcus Antonius’s Meditations are up 28% for the first quarter of 2020 vs 2019, while print sales of Letters from a Stoic are up 42% for the same period. The ebook sales rose by 356% . This boom was because of the pandemic but the popularity of modern stoicism has been an upcoming thing for a while especially since people like Bill Gates or Warren Buffet allegedly used stoicism in their business and Thomas Kaplan is supporting a Stoicism Course at Brown University. But unfortunately, modern stoicism has become kind of a ready-made lifehack, a self-helping method, that’s why books like Ryan Holiday’s one could be published and becomes a success. This is where I see modern stoicism’s faults.

Stoicism seems a good school to support or to follow in the pandemic because this is about we have to accept the things we have no control over. Probably that’s why the sales went up. This is about don’t letting uncontrollable things or events messing with your judgment and clarity. Fear, screams, panic, rages don’t help. And I think we can agree this is true. Aurelius wrote his Meditations in the middle of a battle when his men were dying not just because of the fights but because of a pox epidemic and top of that he was an Emperor. So to maintain his sanity he had become a stoic. He didn’t have an influence on the epidemic so he just accept it and didn’t spend his energy raging about it.

Stoicism was founded by Zenon around 300 BC. And it was a thriving and popular school without huge wars or pandemics or anything. Back then it was not a reaction to something but a preparation for something. More directly prepare yourself the thing you cannot be prepared for. And probably this is the OG stoicism most valuable teaching that there are events in this world we simply cannot control. What we can control however how we react to those events. Are we remain calm or think this is a catastrophe. Let see a very basic example. We are mortals, we will die no matter what. This is a sure event we have no control over. What we can control that our view on this. Will we panic? Refuse to even talk about death or refuse to make a will because “OMG I will die then!!” Like spoiler alert, it will happen, will or no will. Or we understand our time is limited and try to enjoy it and not see smaller inconveniences are tragedies. I am sure we all know people who think if they spill themselves over with coffee or the handle of the grocery’s bag comes off it’s a pure tragedy and they are capable of thinking about this all day as something it is happening with them always an exclusively.

Until this, I think it’s all good we can use this in our daily life. What is dangerous in the OG stoicism is that the stricter wing of it thought emotions as a whole or almost all of it cause confusion so you basically should eliminate emotions to have that clarity on life. That’s why Diogenes wrote that the wise is emotionless. And this is the main and very valid criticism again stoics, that with taking away the emotions they basically ripping of humans from something very unique valuable, important, because our emotions make us humans. And because living totally emotionless is kinda impossible this goal is not realistic, so it causes many frustrations ( oh my... even more emotions!) Because think about it, who are described as emotionless? Psychopaths.

You have cases, events, when your emotions, even overflowing ones are right and acceptable and suppressing them, could be dangerous. Because realistic or not Marcus Aurelius and Seneca and the other stoics idea was not just watching the world and letting things happen, shrugging a shoulder and say nothing, no! Their philosophy and aim were to eliminate the bothering things which not let you think calmly. And since we are talking about philosophy the reality of this in practice is secondary. Critics also think ( and maybe the modern stoicism is going in this direction) that a hardcore stoics care only about themself and their egos while Seneca says friendships are important and in general most stoics accepted positive feelings (to a certain extent).

Stoicism comes back to life mostly in psychotherapy around 1900 by Paul Dubois ( before him there was another new wave of stoicism in the 16th century) and that’s where Victor E Frankle is connected to this topic. I haven’t read his book yet but I know his method is called logotherapy (logos= meaning) and this was born in the deepest existential crisis when his whole family was killed in a concentration camp and he felt he had remained only one personal freedom, the way how he reacts to the circumstances. Frankle invented his own method so he is not just planted some ancient in the modern world but he in fact thought Socrates and his philosophy is his inspiration. I won’t talk about this more until I read his book.

* I wanted to listen to the whole podcast again, but I couldn’t so I just went to the part we care about now.

So they are talking about morning routines and he mention that one of his teachers in primary school said to him “Always expect the unexpected” This is pure stoicism and while I am not suggesting he is lying I noticed he likes to blend his current interest with his childhood memories like when he said at the WitcherCon how they had to build a fantasy castle in the school (or something) and this was such good preparation for him because he has a fantasy series now. Convenient right?

So he mentioned the teacher and a little later hinting that he is into stoicism lately. Question is, which comes first? The teacher with the stoic idea or the stoicism as a new interest somehow repainted his childhood memories?

Then he again is talking about the stoic’s way of control. Or does he?

“ focusing on the thing you can control and make yourself better to control them”

This was never part of the OG philosophy because that is not about being a control freak. It is actually the opposite. If you cannot control something let it go, not force things to go on your way and if you failed then you let go.

The next part it’s not about this topic but I have to mention it because I kinda overlooked it when I listed this at the first time.

He is asked about the fitness industry’s mistakes and he said

“I wouldn’t be the kinda person to point my finger at anyone and say there is a big mistake there…. I wouldn’t ever want to point to finger at anyone saying there is a mistake “

So… should I insert the FO post here? And I know the question and the answer was about fitness but he clearly has no problem pointing fingers at people.

This leads to us again to the control topic. His FO post is creaming about controlling. “ You don’t like the way I am dating? You don’t like I have a covid romance? Then I will tell you what to do and how to behave because I need to have control over my fandom”

When the host asked him about overcoming obstacles he mention the book - Victor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning. (he also said it’s difficult to give advice…)

While he is talking about the book (and for me, it’s clear that the host doesn’t give a damn about this) so HC’s whole tone is changed. Just compare when he is talking about MT and training and so on, he is so irritating and unlistenable but here he is calmer, doesn’t use his voice so expressively, doesn’t emphasise that much in a sentence etc. This to me shows he is actually craving after something more, something deeper, something serious. Not just talking about his ties and blueberry smoothies. I don’t think is dumb (I think he has dumb choices thought) I think he could be more both as an actor both as an individual because when he was talking about the book I felt he has a true, genuine interest and it was a one-second opportunity to talk about something interesting not just fart powder.

I feel his interest in stoicism is an attempt to validate why he is oppressing his feelings. I am sure he does this because he is uncomfortable with his feelings, past and present. For example, I think instead of the bullying his main trauma is being sent away from home to a boarding school and experiencing cold treatment from his mom (the infamous stop calling story). But he oppressing this because I guess all of his brothers he is looking up to loves their mom and he feels he needs to be a good son but questioning his mom means he is a bad one. So instead of admitting that he is hurt and damaged by it he is saying the bullying was his worst experience.

This means to me he doesn’t understand stoicism, ancient or modern he just wants and moreover, he needs something he can hold and cling to, something that gave himself meaning. As a book’s title says: Man’s search for meaning. And I feel HC does this maybe a little bit desperately. Searching for the answers and this moment he thinks stoicism is the key to finding what he is looking for while in reality, the main problem is he doesn’t ask the right questions. And without them, he won’t find any answer. Or meaning.

Title quote from Seneca

#pmitarotreadings

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

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hi! can i request (only if you feel comfortable, if not its totally fine, ignore this!) some trans roman? and maybe victor helping him with his dysphoria?

Dysphoria | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hey! :) Gosh, yes, of course! Thank you so much for this request, you have no idea how excited I got when I read it! I absolutely projected on Roman and thought about him being trans a lot over the last year. So, of course, most of what is written here have been my own experiences, projected on him (not 100% the same, ofc, but--- yeah. I'm pre-everything for example, so, that's already not accurate, but other things that I'm not gonna point out here). Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this, mate! <3

summary; Roman is trans and some day into everything, his dysphoria thought to fuck him over more than usual. Victor helps him through it.

notes; TW // Gender Dysphoria; Mentions of Periods (one sentence); Past Child Abuse (being beaten); Transphobia (nothing explicit, but-); Crying; Self-Harm (punching); Dissociation; essentially Roman's having a BPD Episode bc I always write him having BPD even if not explicitly stated. Trans!Roman, who is on T, but hasn't had Top Surgery, yet. Hurt/Comfort; Showering (mentioned); Cuddling; Kissing; Reassurance; Victor being a good BF.

From the day on that his body has- developed further, Roman’s known that it wasn’t right, that something about the way his body has changed was so utterly and terribly wrong. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it for a long time, uneducated as he’d been, no thanks to his parents who’ve made sure he’d never be exposed to such things.

So no, of course he hadn’t realised that he wasn’t crazy, but in fact experiencing gender dysphoria.

The understanding and connection he felt with other boys, but not with girls; the way he desperately tried to hide his curves when they started to be visible; the way he thought he was dying, when he first menstruated; the way he’s been crying and feeling such burning rage, when he’s looked at his naked form in the mirror; the way he’s thought that if he was a boy, he’d be happier.

He’s not known for a long time that this was an experience a surprising amount of people have made before him, alongside him.

When he’s finally found people describing their own experiences and learned through those that he truly wasn’t alone with his feelings, he also started to gather more information on the right terminology: Transgender; Gender Dysphoria and Euphoria; Binding; Packing; Social and/or Medical Transition; Hormone Replacement Therapy; Top Surgery; Bottom Surgery; Bottom Growth, and so forth.

Roman marvelled at the possibilities for him to bring out the man inside of him to the outside world, for others to see and recognise. He’s been so ecstatic, doing all kinds of research into it and starting to slowly carry it out to the world around him.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t gone over very well at all. He’s gotten to feel his father’s strength, balled into fists, for the first time in a couple of years, after he’s stated his refusal to wear a dress to the gala because it made him uncomfortable. He’s cut his hair shorter just before that, too, which had upset his parents greatly.

Still, he hadn’t let them deter him. Then he was on his own until he was an adult and able to move out. He’d deal with it somehow. It was fine.

And it really had been fine for a while – up until he’s gathered all his courage to come out to his parents, actually.

Surprisingly, his father hadn’t beaten him into a pulp, like he’d expected. Instead – and really, for Roman this was a lot worse than the beating – his parents had kicked him out and written him out of their will, pulling the plug on him ever receiving another cent of the family’s fortune. He’d been allowed to take his things with him until the late night and then he’d been supposed to be out for good. That was exactly what he’d done, too.

Lucky for him, though, he’s opened a bank account a while ago, setting aside most of his allowance there, just to be safe. Although, frankly, he’s done it to pay for hormones and surgery with it, but that was alright. He’d get that money back eventually, so much more than that, too.

Years later, he’s finally come to the point, where he’s changed his name and sex on all documents, now he’s officially been registered as Roman Beauvais Sionis. It was euphoric, really. He’s also started Hormone Replacement Therapy, and it worked out brilliantly for him.

Still, he’s not had Top Surgery, yet. Why? Well, he was scared for one. He didn’t fucking trust doctors, either. And somewhere along the way, he’s become so conscious of having an immaculate looking body that he just didn’t want to ruin it with surgical scars under his pectorals. It had to sound silly to some people, since his chest dysphoria wasn’t exactly light either, but every time he so much as thought about it and informed himself about it, he ended up with a fucking panic attack. So he’s put it on the back burner for the time being.

It hasn’t really bothered him too much, yet. He worked well with sports bras, binders, and tapes, sometimes nothing at all either, albeit rarely.

His partner in crime (and more), Victor Zsasz, who he’s met about two years ago, has taken it in stride that Roman wasn’t a ‘typical man’ and he was secretly grateful for it. It’s been something he’s always been cautious of, but fortunately Zsasz wasn’t typical by any means either. He didn’t care what was between Roman’s legs or on his chest, as long as it was Roman and no one else. Charming, really.

One late afternoon, though, Roman’s been feeling a little off all day long. It wasn’t anything new; his moods fluctuated between extremes very quickly all the time. Still, he could very well live without days on which he’s felt as though his skin was too tight and like he was one very minor inconvenience away from breaking down crying.

He’s gone to take a shower, washing off the day’s grime before changing into something more comfortable. All business meetings for the day had been taken care of by then and with the way he’s been feeling, he’s made no plans on going downstairs to oversee his club.

After his shower – throughout which he’s kept his eyes closed for most of it, having taught himself to navigate through it mostly without seeing at all by then – it’s all come to a tipping point, apparently.

Still naked, his eyes swept over the mirror, glancing at his own body quickly.

Roman’s been working out since he’s gone on testosterone, making sure his body looked more and more masculine as the years have passed. He was pleased with the progress he’s made.

But when he caught that glimpse of his chest, he stopped short. Overwhelming sadness, disgust and rage broke through to the surface, suffocating him all too suddenly.

Quickly, he pulled the light grey cotton shirt over his head, making sure it sat loose enough. He looked back into the mirror.

It was as though suddenly all masculinity had been stripped off him.

He could see the curves on his chest, his shirt not loose enough to cover them up entirely without anything binding them. He’s stopped binding all day long a while ago, having started to feel more comfortable, thanks to Victor and the hormones’ affects. It didn’t change the fact that in this very moment, it was all too visible – his previous femininity.

Roman kept on looking, all aforementioned emotions overwhelming him more and more, so quickly and suddenly, practically choking him from inside.

And then he was screaming.

He was crying, sobbing violently.

He was punching his thighs first and then the mirror, cracking it.

All of a sudden he was stopped from continuing.

His wrists were being held in a strong grip.

His vision was blurry.

He was still convulsively sobbing and shaking.

“Roman.” It sounded so far away, almost distorted, but he could tell it was Victor. His Victor.

“Roman, hey. Look at me.” It was becoming clearer with every word.

Snivelling still, Roman tried his best to focus on coming back, on looking at his partner. The tight grip Zsasz had on his wrists helped grounding him more easily, more quickly. Fresh tears rolled down his red, puffy cheeks, but it cleared his vision a little. He looked straight into Victor’s beautiful deep, yet empty, brown eyes.

“You’re okay, Roman. I’ve got you. I promise,” Zsasz assured him, sounding so calm and so convinced of his promise.

Roman nodded jerkily, although he didn’t believe Victor entirely.

Then Roman tried to get his arms out of Zsasz’s hold, which he tightened at first, but let him go eventually. He must’ve seen how worked up Roman was getting.

Finally released, Sionis wrapped his arms around Victor, embracing him tightly, pressing himself against him, so that nothing could possibly get between them. Zsasz immediately reciprocated and put his arms around Roman’s waist, holding onto him, while he started crying again, the violent sobs shaking his entire body, cries of anguish leaving his lips. His voice sounded so abused, so raw and broken.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, boss. I’m here for you, Roman,” Victor shushed him, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

After a while, Roman started to calm down, his snivels dying down to quiet hiccups, tears having long stopped to actually fall.

He released Zsasz from the embrace and rubbed his hands over his face, groaning frustrated. It was so wet. He was disgusted. He turned towards the sink and washed his face with cold water, rubbing it dry with his towel.

He didn’t spare another look into the mirror.

Afterwards, Roman and Victor walked over to their bed, lying down on it. Roman cuddled into his partner, burying his face in the crook of his scarred neck, wrapping his arms around his waist and tangling their legs. Zsasz put his right arm around Roman’s shoulders and with the other one’s hand he held onto his forearm over his own stomach, stroking his thumb over the soft skin there in soothing circles.

“D’you wanna tell me what happened?” Victor asked quietly.

“Fucking gender dysphoria is what happened,” Roman murmured against Zsasz’s skin, sounding agitated, still.

Victor sighed sadly.

“You know it’s lying to you, Roman. You’re a man. Doesn’t fucking matter what your biological sex is or whatever.”

Roman scoffed, “But I’m not a real man. I was a fucking- I can’t even say it,” another frustrated groan, “I looked into the mirror and all I could see was-“

“No,” Victor interrupted him, “Roman, you are a real man. Whatever you thought you saw in the mirror wasn’t real. Your mind’s playing tricks on you to make you feel bad about yourself. You’re as much as a man as me. Or literally any other fucking guy here in Gotham, more so than some of them, too. I promise.”

“You really think so?” Roman nearly whispered, lifting his head to look at his partner, assessing him.

“Yes,” was Victor’s simple answer, such conviction in his eyes and voice, it was palpable – it took Roman’s breath away.

Roman nodded, “’Kay,” he paused for a long moment; then he leaned down and kissed Victor on his full lips, a very small smile stretching his own, “Thank you.”

He rarely ever said ‘thank you’ to anyone at all, but he knew it was the only appropriate response he had for Zsasz’s constant reassurance – his help.

Instead of saying anything else, they started kissing, tenderly making out and enjoying each other’s company, warmth, and mere presence.

Roman may not have always felt complete security about his identity, but he’s never been alone with it either. Victor’s unfailingly been staying by his side, fending off bigots, unbelievers and even his own mind day in and out.

He couldn’t possibly find the right words for just how grateful he was.

He thought that no words could even come close to describing it.

#tw gender dysphoria #tw past child abuse #tw bpd episode #tw dissociation #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask fanfic #trans headcanon #trans character #mlm ship #mlm fiction #mlm fanfic

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 17

Living with the Cowell's is going about as well as you'd expected it to go. In other words it's more or less a disaster for your mental health. Which is ironic considering you didn't put this much stress on yourself when you were sure a stalker was watching you.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the stalker didn't own your house and wasn't in your personal space at every turn.

You'd honestly been expecting Little Jo to be the biggest space invader but Dia and Nate were constantly hovering around you. Nate had taken up the other spare room, or rather his room away from home, the minute he heard you'd be staying with the Cowells. He's made it his job drive you to and from work for the past two days and you both take breaks together now closing the store when you do. Then the second you cross the threshold Dia is right by you either asking for some help cooking or rushing you off for hobby time in the sitting room. It's like living in a 1920's story book, minus the extreme prejudice you would've faced.

It's only been two days and you can't find a way to ask for more space. You tried asking to go on a walk earlier and it turned into a partial jog with Nate. You really just need a moment to yourself it's been five or six days since you last had some 'me' time. All your nerves are shot and you are just a few minor inconveniences away from snapping at someone.

And it would not be a smart idea to nap at your boss. Your boss who's been so considerate and helpful offering his support to you through this whole mess of a situation.

Nonetheless you need space and your own clothes. Nate's don't fit you properly and they're uncomfortably itchy against your skin. His detergent is also very smelly, more in the chemical sense than in a bad sense. Though it could be a bad sense considering the headache you've had the past day from the over bearing smell. You know it won't end well for you but you desperately need to go back home and grab your own clothes and maybe even your car.

Having the illusion of more freedom would put you more at ease.

After all it isn't like you want to knowingly put yourself in harms way, you just can't stand the suffocation any longer. That's why you decided to bring it up during dinner, and why you are now sat in the tensest atmosphere this table has possibly ever experienced.

“Installation ain't done yet.” is Big Jo's gruff response.

It's as if that short sentence gave everyone premission to breathe again.

“I'm not planning to stay, I just need my own clothes.” you press.

Nate glances over to you before placing his fork to the side, “Then why do you need your car?”

“I'd just feel more comfortavle if I had it.....y'know instead of just relaying on you for rides.” you gesture around to the table trying to get someone yo come to your defense.

Big Jo pinches the bridge of his nose, it's been a stressful week for him as well. You don't mean to be ungrateful in this scenario but you are Autistic and the routine you've spent months carving out for yourself is being ruined. You are wearing smelly itchy clothes and need to have something you have control over. Not to mention you're the one who actively experienced the home invasion and were sat in a hospital for two days.

Big Jo can deal with you asking to go collect your thing, as far as you're concerned anyway. You're at least entitled to that much.

Dia puts her hand on Jo's arm and he sighs, “Fine, if Nate takes you. You can go to the cottage.”

“Tio, they can't have the car.” Nate is wildly failing his arms and motioning to you as he explains that you're a known flight risk.

Great, nothing's been resolved and you are back to a tense dinner in the Cowell's home.

“Fine I won't take the car, just lemme give it to someone to watch it for the...the what's it gonna be a week?” directing the question to Big Jo who's been handling the security detail for your home.

He gestures in a so-so manner.

“Yea, just lemme give it to someone to watch for the week.” you pause before throwing your hand up, “Because let's face it none of us have any idea where those two are now, and they could've easily tampered with my car.”

That was the worst possible thing to say because the second you finish you sentence the table erupts into chaos. Dia and Little Jo voicing their concerns over you driving your car, Big Jo and Nate all but forbidding you from driving and you trying to find some sort of compromise.

“What if we had it towed to Whistle's? Nate takes me there after work and we make sure nothing's wrong with my car.” looking around the table at the mixed reactions before you.

“I'll call Lewis for a tow in the morning and you both can go after work.”

“thank you.” you say relieved that you can finally gain back control over your life. Maybe get a little bit of space a long with it.

Everyone calms down and goes back to eating. The air is still so tense you could practically cut it but without your constant stirring it seems to settle. The rest of the night goes by uneventfully, you've changed into some pajamas and are ready to lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours.

The antsy energy you've been building up these past few days have left you without sleep. Tomorrow the hallucinations will probably start up, you wonder if they'll be worse thanks to your healing concussion. Hallucinations aside, your real problem is being alone with your thoughts for the next seven or eight hours.

You have nothing to occupy your mind with and thus nothing to help block out the invasive thoughts.

You'd finished the TAZ graphic novels while you were still at the hospital. The Cowells had taken you straight to their home after you got discharged, so you hadn't been able to grab your switch or any smaller art supplies.

Ultimately knowing that all this was for your safety and benefit you understand them wanting to keep you away from your home. The sight of you attack. Even a supply run could prove dangerous. Try telling that to your restless and bored mind. Constantly feeling like one of the undead wandering around aimlessly with no real purpose has certainly not done anything good for your mental health The lack of stimulation was definitely making it harder to mask and not just explode in frustration. To just let loose and rage at everything: from the situation to your stalkers, hell even to Jo and yourself. The after the brief flash of rage it would be washed away by the overwhelming guilt you felt about being in this web and dragging everyone around you into it. Whether directly or indirectly.

Safe to say, it is not good to be alone with your thoughts right now.

And it is with that restless energy that your night of staring at the ceiling turns into a morning of staring at the ceiling. Until a knock at your door signals the start of breakfast. A routine you've recently become apart of while staying with the Cowells. Getting ready for the day you make your way to the dining room, not before steadying your nerves and static filled mind with a long and drawn out huff of air.

Not quite cathartic enough to be viewed as a sigh.

And with that you begin you day.

The morning fades into late afternoon and you find yourself in the shop a little before close, just looking through the isles. A vaguely human figure, much too tall to truly be an actual person, had brushed past Nate and into one of the isles. Honestly you're sure it's one of your hallucinations but you still have to double check the isles before you finish locking up the shop. Today had been really slow and you can only recall a handful of patrons throughout the day, though you haven't been with it enough to actually hace much accuracy on that statement.

Nevertheless you are searching for stragglers, thankfully you find none. Really hoping to get out and to Whistle's soon, then home to grab things that'll keep you occupied. Things that are finally yous; actual comfortable clothes, that smell like you too. Eyes blinking in rapid succession at your near giddy nerves.

For once your tic helps you vision, you're able to catch the book laid on its side. Its cover a deep russet nearly matching the shelf in color, you'd have missed it if it weren't for the inverted shapes that pressed themselves into your eyelids almost burning the scenery into your memory. Picking the book up you try to discern where it had come from.

Upon further inspection it appeared to be more of a journal. Half written in English with margins made out it – was that German? Yeah that was definitely German, the Eszetts is way too distinctive for it to be any other language. Poorly drawn out sketches littered several pages as you flip past them. Until you see a familiar but scrathy image. It's of a symbol a circle with an 'x' through it.

As you look at the jagged lines you can't really place where you've seen this symbol before. It's so familiar but the ringing bells do nothing to help you remember where you've seen this symbol. Flipping further in you catch sight of a drawing of a being that is slim and taller than the trees. Wasn't that the figure you'd seen moments before? Right as you were doing you check for customers? You're beginning to think this shop's haunted.

“Hey YN, coast clear?” The sound of Nate's voice stops you from inspecting the book any further.

Placing it back on the shelf and nestling it in between to larger books you turn and head out of the isle.

“Yea, no customers.”

“C'mon then, I don't want to be out all night.”

Rolling your eyes at Nate's exaggeration, Whistle's probably wouldn't take more than an hour tops and you won;t take long gathering your things from the house – you follow Nate out the door.

Waiting close behind him as he locks up. One thing about the attack is you've become hyper aware of your surroundings and are nearly always on high alert now when you're out in the open like this. Luckily in most spaces you had already noted the number of exits and where to find them. Having to plan escape routes ahead of emergencies might not be the healthiest mentality but it's kept you sane throughout this ordeal. Thank you American public school system.

When you get to the auto shop you see a familiar ticcing brunette talking to a group of mechanics as he leans on your car.

“Who the hell is that?” Nate says squinting at Toby who's practically laid out across the hood of your car.

Weird, haven't they met yet? Toby did hang out at the shop for an entire day. Had Nate not noticed him then? What about the picnic? Before you can say anything Nate's already out of the car and shouting something to the group. Most of the men standing around tense up as Nate storms up to them.

But you catch the dead look in Toby's eye, the other is still horribly out of commission. Honestly without your glasses faces blur from so far away but it's undeniable that there isn't a light reflecting in his eye. Nate seems to be directing his lecture to Toby who doesn't appear to do anything. He's like a big old house cat, tired and done with everyone's shit if they aren't actively feeding him.

Sighing you exit the car, your only real thought is defusing your Karen.

You aren't at all surprised when Toby locks onto the movement of you walking towards the group. The man perks right up and lifts himself off your car in one fluid motion. He's so agile, just like a cat. You can't help but smile a bit at the connection automatically reaffirming with yourself that Toby would totally push over a precariously placed glass of water.

“Hey, wh-mrrow-what'd you bring the car in for?” Toby asks side stepping Nate, completely ignoring the older man.

“Huh – oh, yea boss wanted it checked out to make sure it wasn't like tampered with – I guess. Y'know after the accident.” you know the mechanics probably know what happened to you, you do live in a small town after all. Gossip stops for no one. But you do have control over details and talking about the incident and you won't be letting go of that any time soon.

Toby's one good eye darkens as he nods, “Gotcha, well it's fine even had Jess take it for a drive. Drove fine. Fixed that weird clicky thing it did on left turns, you're welcome.”

Hah, during the drive through Franklin Toby lost it after two left turns. He noticed the clicking sound your car would make, oddly only on left turns, and started bitching about it to you. At the time you just thought he was being funny when he'd complained you needed to take it in to the shop to fix that. Guess he wasn't. But what's the point of fixing something so trivial?

You cross your arms and are about to sass Toby about how unnecessary that was when Nate interrupts.

“Well since the car's cleared we'd better go settle the bill with Lewis.”

“No need, no parts to replace plus my free labor.” Toby looks away from Nate and back to you “It w-w-was so sl-o-ow-w so I told the old man we were dating and I'd been wanting to fix up your car.”

Normally you'd protest a friend or anyone giving you free services but since this was on the Cowells' dime you weren't going to burden them anymore.

“That's sweet – really really stupid, but sweet.”

Nate's already moving around you two and motioning towards his car as he says, “Well thank you, now we really need to get going YN. I don't want to be out late.”

You nod to Nate, turning and saying bye to Toby from over your shoulder.

When you suddenly remember, “Wait, hey Tobias can you take care of my car for the week? I know it's probably a weird request, but I'm sorta “grounded” right now and can't drive till the cottage is set up. A little worried the battery will drain from disuse.”

If it weren't for the mask and swollen eye the confused sneer of his would be clear to everyone on the lot. He sputters for a moment before speaking up.

“Ok? I mean like that's valid – whoa – a valid concern...but your car's not that old. But I guess I'll watch it? I don't have Connor so it'll have to stay in the lot tonight, that ok?”

Oh this stupid beautiful boy just gave you an out. Probably not the one he meant to give you but you are taking it and running as fast as you can.

“Or, or, or-”

“No, no, and no. You can't be trusted to not just drive off in the dead of night.” Nate cuts in.

It took a bit of coaxing but after calling the house and getting Dia's blessing you obtained one night to yourself. Really it'd be one night spent at the lodge but it was still better than being a guest in someone else's house for the night, this way you're a guest at the lodge for the night. A little mini vacation if you will. And Toby seemed fine to go with you to the cottage while you packed a bag with your essentials, before you both go back to the lodge.

He even agreed to drop you off at the bookshop in the morning.

“Are you seriously going stir crazy after five days?” he asks as you pull up to the cottage.

“it's more their constant smothering I'm over. I know everyone's worried but I still need my own agency. Y'know?”

“Yea....I do.” he murmurs with a solemn look about him before he exits the car and makes his way to the front door.

Your steps falter as you near the cottage. A few flashing images pass through your mind before you shakily inhale. Fortunately Toby is right beside you squeezing your hand to remind you of his presence. You aren't alone this won't end like Monday night.

Opening the door the house is quiet and just as you had last seen it. Nothing was disrupted, even peeking into the bathroom where you expected a crime scene to be – only a toppled shower curtain and over turned bath mat remained.

It doesn't really feel like your house right now. A fuzzy sensation clouds your thoughts, like your brain is trying to protect you from connecting with this place after your recent trauma. Although you aren't sure how you actually feel there's a strong sense of discontentment.

Noticing how you linger in the threshold of the bathroom Toby gently guides you into your room, all without a word. Leaving you alone in your room to collect your things. You move around at a moderate pace, you aren't drawing this out but you aren't rushing to leave soon either. A handful of shirts, a set of jeans, shorts, and joggers later you are grabbing your switch. Before diving into your art supplies you hear a thud across the hall.

You freeze as if ice water had just been poured onto you keeping you in place.

“Tobias!” you call out not moving.

“Fuck – sorry I acc-ack-accidently kicked your trash can.”

When had he gone to the bathroom?

“Are you ok?” you receive a quick 'yea' in response.

Jittery and in no mood to sit and draw you pick up an embroidery kit you'd been meaning to rip into. Should keep your attention long enough, but maybe you should grab another kit just in case. Bag loaded with enough of your things so you aren't driven mad during your stay – you turn to leave but decide to grab your goat plush as an after thought before leaving your room.

Walking out and into the rest of your house you notice a lack of Toby anywhere. Going towards the front door you spot him as you pass the kitchen. He's messing with your garbage can before he takes out the bag and ties it up.

“Wha' cha doin'?” he's been a bit off since you both arrived but you don;t blame him. Not like you're fairing any better.

“I, I kicked it and a whole bunch of trash came out. So then I had to put it-it all back, but there's a lot here and you aren't gonna be here for a week....I, I ju-just thought it'd be better to tak-take it out now.”

Nodding, you're thankful to have such a good friend looking out for you. It would've sucked to come home to a toxic waste site because you'd left trash in the garbage for three weeks.

You probably just thought it came from the bathroom because of the echo or something. Paranoia's been a pain this past week. Maybe you should look into getting a roommate, they might help.

“They're not that helpful trust me.”

“Wow, did I say that out loud?” Toby nods, “Fuck I am out of it. How are you and Tim doing?” you might be deflecting/ignoring your own issues. But Toby had his own shit going on Monday night and you doubt he's talked to anyone.

“We're fine. Just fucking hate him.” the sharp jerk of his head keys you in that he's very much not fine.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Who are you, my fuck-ing therapist?”

“Fine, wanna bitch then?”

He comes off the defensive like he realizes that he's talking with you right now. His good eye down cast after he relaxes his stance a bit.

You go to grab your kettle, filling it up and placing it down on the stove to warm up.

“Any preference on tea? I've got a few.” it was very much more than a few.

A chair screeches as Toby drags it out to sit down at your small kitchen table. He doesn't respond so you get one of your special blends out. This blend has rose hips which you normally dislike anything scented or flavored with roses but the ginger and cinnamon can normally over power the slightly floral sting of this tea. Plus it's made with the intention of healing the heart and promoting self love. A spell tea of sorts. Toby could probably use a little pick me up, you always did after a fight with a friend. Getting out the honey you ready the tea infuser into the cup waiting for the kettle's whistle.

“So just wanna start talking....or should I ask questions?” you turn to face Toby as you lean against the counter.

He's taken his mask off and placed it on the table, of course you remember his deteriorating face but it still surprises you to see it after a few days of not actually seeing his face. Maybe you'll get used to it and one day won't be so fascinated by his teeth.

“Tim's just a dick who thinks he has a right to act like he's my dad. Li-ike-like I'm twenty-four he doesn't need to constantly question the things I do. He doesn't have any room to talk to me about my mistakes he literally could've fucked staying here up for us....” Toby head had been snapping to the left several times during his rant and it continued as he got very quiet suddenly.

Tim could've messed staying here up? Did he mean here as in Kepler or the lodge? Barclay did have to break up the fight maybe he didn't want any of the trio in but let Toby stay out of concern for his condition.

“Hey I'm sure it wasn't that bad, I could even talk to Barclay to get you unbanned from the lodge.”

He takes the mug you pass him and spoons some honey into it/ It's weird to see half his face drawn into concentration since the other half isn't able to emote yet. Holding the cup in his hands he stares at the swirling steam rising up as you bring your own mug over to the table taking a seat. Not once does he look up at you as you stir in a bit of honey into your own tea.

Toby's neck snaps, “Am I...is it bad that I don't want you to?”

You send him a slightly pitying smile.

“No hun, you're upset. And you're having a totally valid reaction to a falling out.”

Toby rolled his eyes, at least you thin he did. Hard to tell with just the one.

“My therapist would love you. That's the kind of bullshit she tells me like all the time.”

Not knowing what to say to that you just nod as he continues to stare at you.

You both continue to talk, well you continue to let Toby rant about how stupid and dumb Brian and Tim are as you finish your tea. You still don't know the details of the fight but it sounds like the cause was just the last straw between the men and not the actual catalyst. According to Toby the other two tend to baby him or talk over his ideas and suggestions because he's the youngest of the group. Twice Toby mentioned Tim's paranoia and how that was really the cause of the tension between them. And how Brian wasn't any help because he'd always side with Tim to make sure his boyfriend was ok.

Toby was very bitter when talking about Brian's role in this more than Tim's. As if his role of passive bystander just sent Toby over the edge. Which from the way he spoke seemed like it's been dragging on for some time. All of this was painting an even worse picture of the smug asshole. Though you didn't break your silence or series of nods and hums until Toby off handily mentioned Brian getting him in trouble with his therapist by saying he was the one who started the fight.

“He fucking snitched....wait no he lied?!” Toby had to blink a few times before he finally understood what had gotten you so upset.

“Yea I mean it's not that big a deal. I was able to tell Clarise I missed a few days of my meds and she made me set reminders in front of her on the call.”

Apparently Clarise was sure Toby suffered from Bipolar Disorder, he was very flippant when he told you like it wasn't anything big. When you mentioned ADHD he kind of blanked. He got fidgety when you mentioned the symptoms you saw and nervously told you his medication was working just fine for him. Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable you dropped the topic. Soon it was dark and you needed to leave to make it to the lodge for dinner.

“You sure you want to take the garbage out? What if Chonk is over there?” joking as you lock the door.

“Good point. Trash you live here now.” he dumps the bag onto your lawn and walks towards your kia.

“Toby!”you gasp out, which sounds weird amidst your laughter.

He stops and looks at you his expression more unclear than it's been all evening. Your heart skips a beat as you stare at each other for a moment, your laughter gone now.

“It's weird to hear you say 'Toby'.”

That's all he says before he grabs the bag and carrying it to the side of your house where your bins are.

The conversation in the car is pretty light in comparison to what it has been. Just jokes getting thrown around and sharing the gossip that you'd head in the hospital because nurses' can't keep their mouths shut. Neither of you know any of the characters in the stories but they're still pure gold. Like the man who came in after getting his hand stuck in a cookie jar. Nervous and scared his wife would find out he's been eating the new holistic dog treats. A few stories or more like vents about the auto shop got thrown in. By the time you got to the lodge both of you were in lighter spirits.

Everyone was ecstatic to see you up and about and made an extra spot for you at the table. You didn't miss how Barclay would rise an eyebrow every time you locked eyes. You just roll your eyes and continue eating. When it got time to settle in for the night you were planning to commandeer the couch but Toby offered his room.

More accurately he offered a chance to hang out with Connor which you readily accepted. The rottie was just as excited to see you, bounding over the second you stepped through the door.

“Sigh if only there was a way to see Connor everyday.” you say dramatically whistful as you hold the pup's jowls in your palms.

Toby responds in turn in a drawn out sarcastic monotone “Oh my, how sad your life must be. There's only one solution, marry me. So Connor can finally have the second parent he's always wanted” he ends with a scratch behind the pups right ear.

“I was just gonna kick you and steal your dog.”

He turns to face you, “I can't feel-”

“So if I kicked you in the back of the knee it wouldn't buckle?”

Toby goes silent before conceding to your point. A mumbled “Connor would avenge me.” is heard.

After you two settle down you both hop into bed to try and get some sleep. Toby was holding your switch hostage so you had no choice but to “sleep” now.

You really hoped he changed his sheets from the other day. You'd hate to find out you're laying in milk stained sheets. Pushing those thoughts away as your body finally starts to relax, you can feel when your mind begins to drift into the beginning stages of sleep.

“Tobes, you can crash at my place if you need to.” is the last thing you say before falling into a peaceful slumber.

Toby on the other hand wasn't able to get much sleep at all that night. He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was about to happen. And unlike Tim he didn't think it was because of you, it just had something to do with you. You were too kind to be one of The Operator's proxies, with all the clues of His presence in this town you were one of many red herrings. Looking over to you Toby only hoped you wouldn't get hurt in the crossfire. Not like Lyra did, he doesn't think he could handle something like that. Especially with how shitty Tim's been lately, he's on edge and constantly about to snap. He just needs a break from everything. Maybe then the weight in his stomach would go away.

In the morning Toby's keen to hold up his end of the deal and drive you to work. You buy him breakfast and an iced coffee from Dunkin' and a pup cup for Connor. The three of you eat in your car while you wait for Nate to arrive. When he does you say your goodbyes and head off to start your shift. Promising Toby you'd call once you've been ungrounded.

Nate's face is grim as you approach the shop, you're starting to get used to the cold sweats from these dread bearing encounters. That can't be a good thing.

Did something happen last night? Were the Cowells targeted? Was everyone alright? These thoughts and more swam through your head as Nate motioned for you to follow him into the shop quickly.

He locked the door and pushed you into the back room. His hast doing nothing to settle your fraying nerves as you stumble past the threshold.

“That Rogers kid, how well do you know him?” his eyes dart around the back looking at every shadow as if watching their movements.

“Who's Roger?” you feel out of the loop.

Was Roger one of your assailants? Had the police already found suspects so soon on what little information you had to go on?

With a groan Nate smacked his hand against his face muttering something under his breath.

“Toby, Tobias Rogers how much do you know about him?” his tone is rushed and sharp.

You didn't even know his last name until now. But maybe you had heard it before but it never clicked with you. Honestly you've known each other for a month that's not very long at all. But maybe it's long enough to learn some things?

“...ah not much?”

There's a panicked look in Nate's eyes and he does his best to control his breathing. But it's clear that Nate is either about to hyperventilate or go into an anxiety attack. You wonder what's got him so worked up as he reached into his bag and pulls out a manila folder.

He hands it to you, you can see the water marks left by his sweaty palms.

What on Earth is going on?

#a cure for insomnia #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #tobias erin rogers #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #creepypasta fanfic

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: Y/N and Alfie keep their relationship under the sheets until another familiar face emerges, the dangers of being with each other prevail.

Part 1 | Part 2

"Were you jealous?" "No... maybe..."

“You grow on people, but so does cancer.”

The sound of paper shuffling fills the coffee smelling room, the windows are sealed shut. The oak walls are new, something done in addition to the decor in the office. There’s no record playing like there usually is, it’s a quiet day.

And there’s you.

There is a book in your hand, underlining your hearty attempt to do as little work as possible. It’s summer, the birds are chirping and the kids are running around. You’re on your last pile of papers, then you’ll be out.

The coffee is not cold, somewhere in the lukewarm area while your eyes catch a bird in the sky from the window next to your desk. Your floral dress is not usual attire, you’re not the one for girly things but it’s something he’s bought you.

Your head has been in the clouds, you think.

You have things to blame: work, your brother, business associates and the incoming season but you of all people know that the main reason for your distracted state is somewhere in Camden town shouting at his men for a small error.

There’s another appointment today, as your assistant tells you while you try your best to keep up the focus. It’s the Shelby company. You nod, they’re not the most pleasant but you’ve seen worse. You ask your assistant to be present in the room when they arrive so that things are more in order and he nods.

The pages of the book find your fingertips once again, the windows are now open. The smell of coffee mixes in with the freshly bloomed flowers around the office’s window as you read, enjoying the brief moment of peace before it’s interrupted.

Your head goes where you tell it not to, the place where you relive the events of the past. It’s not that the events are unpleasant, it’s quite the opposite if anything which is why you can’t afford to go there during work. You try to keep the thoughts in the back of your mind but a few surface regardless of your effort.

You recall all the moments.

His name on your lips like a prayer while the walls of your room echo, the only thing that can be heard throughout the house is his skin against yours and the moans he bestows upon you each time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into his back, all he can feel is pleasure while you feel yourself find ecstasy in different forms.

There’s a loud knock on the door.

The Shelbys come in, they’re all in their casual attire but they can’t help to glance a look at you in a floral dress. You look much too picturesque for anyone’s seeing.

“Mr. Shelby.” you say before sitting down, it’s him, Finn and Michael today. You give Finn a generous hug as an old friend and Michael watches, there’s an uncertain look in his eyes but you ignore the lad and sit down.

“Ms. Y/N.” he says before his lips meet a cigarette, the other boys just watch you as the conversation carries on.

Thomas says something about the deal your deceased father’s company has to do with you, you nod and scribble down a few notes as he speaks. It’s almost like a ritual, you’ve memorised the lines of professionalism no matter how tight your family once was with the Shelbys. It’s no longer a family you’re concerned with, it’s a business.

An hour like that passes, you bounce a couple ideas off of each other and ask Finn about how he had been doing. Michael doesn’t speak except a few times to make snarky remarks but you’re quick to shut him down with your wit. You do not cast a look at him for the rest of the talk.

The older one out of them says something about a marriage, how John and Esme had been happy from an orderly marriage and the importance of having a family of one’s own, especially when it comes to a woman. You don’t listen to what he’s saying up until he says the last part and that’s when you put your pen down and stare straight at Thomas, eyes not wavering in the slightest.

“What is it you came here to tell me, Thomas?” you say, loud and clear and you catch a look in Finn’s eye, one that makes you panic in the slightest.

“Our Michael here has taken a liking to you. Your age is close to his. The business and the families will also surely benefit from something of the sort.” he speaks and watches you laugh and it’s genuine.

“So you’re saying I should marry your cousin, is that it?” you speak, bewildered at the thought but it somehow manages to amuse you, your assistant is listening the whole time while he stands next to you.

“I’m saying you should consider it, is all.” he says and you hear Micheal say a few words as well but your mind is way too blurry. You applaud the audacity Thomas has but the offer is much too rough and inconvenient.

Any girl would jump at the opportunity, you know. But you’re not any girl. You like the family, you’d known them for the longest time due to the family business you were involuntarily a part of. They’re ok people and the business would surely benefit from the finite alliance that would be formed.

But you find your heart to be somewhere else, in somebody else’s hands.

You dismiss the idea with the shake of your head and you see Finn beam up as you say no to the offer. He knows Michael won’t make you happy. You thank the Shelby family for the inappropriate offer and refuse to indulge. Thomas doesn’t seem too surprised but you find it hard to look past the disappointment in Michael’s face.

With a tight hug given to Finn as he whispers ‘good job’ into your ear for refusing his cousin, the office becomes empty again.

----

The room smells of flowers and rum, there are dried flowers in the vases, most of them are roses bought a week ago. The sound of shuffling in the sheets fill the room, it’s only your breathing against his for a second before you get up.

Your bare back is what he sees while your hair is in a low bun. He longs to caress your hair like he did a couple hours back but he knows your rules are the rules. They’re loud and clear and all he thinks of some days.

A soft sigh leaves your lips, a dull ache is present between your legs while you walk around the room, his eyes drink your bare figure but he’s seen and done entirely too much for you to be embarrassed or feel the need to cover up at this point.

You avoid the thumping of your heart when you see the adoring look he’s giving you.

He’s mature and experienced enough to know that there were bound to be feelings forming after a while. He is to blame, mostly, or so he thinks. You’re young, beautiful, smart and witty and he knows that this was bound to be casual and still is but he finds himself craving you more and more each time.

It’s a cliche story, he says to himself while watching you put a robe on.

He blames himself for falling for the trap. He’d been with many women, some in brothels and some in parties and nothing had mattered to him. There had been a couple memorable faces, ones he thought about but no one made his heart soar like you did, even though you were in front of him.

He’s heard about the offer from the Shelbys, maybe that’s why he thinks about you a lot more these days. When looked objectively, it’s none of Alfie’s business and he knows that. This is you, sleeping with the enemy and he applauds just how well you were able to hide everything, your tracks are impossible to trace back and no one knows you chant his name until you see stars most nights.

You catch the longing look he has in his eyes when you’re on the bed next to him once again. You sit up straight and face him as he leans back on the head of the bed. You raise your eyebrows, telling him to speak but you know him too well. He doesn’t need to say much.

“So you’ve heard?” you speak in the silent room once you’ve made a rough plan of how to handle things. You know he’s gotten attached to you despite this being an under-the-wraps thing, you have too.

“Heard what, luv?” he says, tugging at his beard while you eye his form that’s half covered with a white sheet. You offer him a smile, it’s not quite a grimace but he sees the sentiment and watches as you nod.

“Alfie...Don’t play dumb with me, please.” you speak, your voice is so soft that he feels his heart melt like butter at the last word. You look at him, like a little kid before he speaks.

“I have, yeah, Ollie told me about that fuckin’ Gray kid...” he speaks but his voice is soft despite his words. They don’t cut through you like glass but you feel a little hurt. He doesn’t seem to say what’s on his mind.

“And have you heard my answer?” you ask him and see a spark in his eyes. He stops cold at his tracks, hand no longer tugging at his beard but his sole attention on you.

All that he’s heard is that Micheal wanted to marry you, there was no answer given in what Ollie had told him. He’d assumed you’d said yes and that this was maybe one of the last times you were letting him in between your sheets.

He shakes his head.

“I said no on the spot.” you say not looking at him but he makes his reaction known when a grunt of extreme approval leaves his lips. He feels himself cheer up, a weight leaves his shoulders and you meet his eyes at last.

You see the real him, vulnerable.

“Good.” he says, nonchalant about it the second after but you catch something in his eye that tells you he’s happy, he looks relieved.

You then decide to test the waters, finding no harm in indulging in a little playful behaviour, mostly because he’s recovering from the happiness of you not marrying someone, let alone someone from the Shelby clan.

"Were you jealous?" You speak and watch a smile form on his lips, he looks like he doesn’t care as he answers to you. He pauses for a while, then he speaks.

"No.........maybe..." he says while a whole hearted chuckle leaves your lips. He watches as you laugh and not make a deal out of it. You like that he cares, even though it’s the one thing you’d agreed not to do.

It was undeniable, that this whole arrangement is set in dangerous waters. You were fond of him, had always been and letting him worship you in the bedroom just made it worse for you. You had your borders built, steel walls that would not melt.

But they were melting, slowly.

At times, it was his smile and the way he said your name, you felt yourself melt inside. Your skin against his as he caressed your knee under the table when you ate together, even though no one was around to witness the occasion.

You threw yourself onto the bed, your hair creating a contrast with the white sheets while Alfie practically swooned at the sight. He leaned against the headboard, a lazy smile on his lips while you chuckled at his words lightly. He lets himself get carried away, like most times when he’s with you.

And he forgets that actions have consequences at that moment.

--------

The inside of the closet is small, there’s a faint light coming from one corner that’s not fully shut. You hold your breath while the sound of talking slowly fades away. Your legs hurt from standing but you don’t complain, you can’t have the risk of someone hearing.

It’s the usual story.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon where you found yourself in Alfie’s office, on top of his desk as he planted all kinds of kisses on your neck to be specific. The deed is done until someone walks in, someone other than his assistant and you panic, resulting in you hiding in the closet next to the door where they hang the coats.

You hear the light footsteps leave while Alfie’s heavy thuds follow him until the door is closed. The doors of the closet open then, you blink a few times to adjust to the light and he watches you as you get used to the surroundings once again.

“I thought he was never going to leave.” you speak into the room, Alfie’s both embarrassed and happy at once.

He hates that he has to hide the most beautiful girl from the world and the relationship he has with her, if he has one at all. His love is domestic, he wants to show you off in his arm and sleep in with you. He finds himself daydreaming about how wonderful it would be just to be carefree, not be alarmed all the time in the case of someone seeing you two together.

But he’s the enemy. And it seems as though that isn’t going to change any time soon.

“Tha’ fucker is way too talkative for his own good, luv.” he says, amused at his words while he watches you sit down on the chair in front of his desk.

“He stayed for over and hour.” you speak while shaking your head, putting one of your legs on top of the desk while rubbing your knee to give some sort of relief from standing too much but your hands are no good for a massage.

So then, he sits next to you and takes your leg on his knee, slowly massaging his way up and down while you watch. He seems nonchalant about the act of kindness while his hands slowly caress the soft skin of your thigh and he feels you flinch at the discomfort caused by standing up for too long.

“It’s alright, yeah.” you hear him speak, it’s almost a coo like he was speaking to a baby and even though you ate being babied, you don’t speak.

You smile at him, it’s far too genuine for him to ignore and he stares at your lips as you speak, he finds himself far too deep in the hole of love for you. “You grow on people, but so does cancer.”

He smiles at first and then it turns into a hearty chuckle and you watch, feeling yourself to be too attached to the man before you. You know the rule, you’d set it up yourself.

Don’t fall in love with him.

But there he is giving you a gentle massage for no reason while mumbling something about the museum he went to as a kid. He says something about a painting and you hold onto the meanings but your head is far too gone. He switches the topic to the train tracks around but you don’t quite follow.

You know there are borders. He’s significantly older and a family enemy. You’d heard way too many things from one too many people about how terrible this bear of a man was but you can’t ignore but notice just how gentle he is to the ones that matter.

You murmur as he watches you with wide eyes. “Thank you.” And you put your foot on the floor, it’s no longer in between his hands. You know the massage is not done and neither is the make-out session you were having before someone decided to barge in but it needs to be.

He’s the enemy, you remind yourself.

You put your coat on and fix yourself up a little before facing him, realising that you’d lost some good time waiting for that man to leave but there are more important things to discuss.

“Alfie...” his name leaves your lips and he leans against his desk, watching you as the chains along his thighs find their place once again. “Do you want to keep doing this?” you ask, a part of you is scared but you need to know because you know both of you are in the edge. If this keeps going on, you’ll fall for him and he already has one too many dreams about you.

He tugs at his beard and the shade of blue in his eyes changes as he becomes serious. He knows you’re in the brisk of catching feelings and he already has. He also happens to realise that this was the one thing you asked from him, that he wouldn’t fall for you.

It was fun at first, he thinks. He didn’t mind that you weren’t in his bed the next day or that there was no sign of you after the sex. But then you’d made him breakfast and met Cyril, you’d stayed for a while after you’d been with him and laughed at his jokes and listened when he spoke, really listened.

He finds himself reliving the moments where the sunlight would illuminate your smile on the days where you’d scold him for not waking you up earlier. You’re far too young for him but that’s only on the age department since you’re maturer than anyone he’s known.

He wants to ask for more but he knows that’s not the deal he’s made with you.

Your curious eyes ogle him as he thinks, he’s not getting to be with you due to the position you both are in so he thinks it’s best to settle for what he has with you right now. So he nods and starts speaking.

“If ya’ want to, right, things have been fuckin’ smooth..” he says as you watch him speak, his words are harsh this time as they cut through you. “...and I, right, haven’t fallen’ for ya’ like ya’ warned me about..”

He speaks in a less bothered manner but you can see through him, he’s saying the last part to convince himself, it’s not directed at you so you nod. He’s lying, you know it but he’s grown enough to admit that to himself, or so you figure and nod with a cheerful attitude, even though things are shattering inside your heart.

“Well, that makes the two of us then.” you speak but unlike him, you’re good at not being vulnerable when speaking and especially when it comes to him. He finds it hard to conceal his real feelings with you so he doesn’t but you do, and you’re damn good at it.

He stands there, stunned and hurt. You feel the same way, about everything, but you’re clever not to show any emotion. You want the same things as he did but you were far too clueless when you got into this meddle, thinking that it would be a simple exchange of sex and a couple shared meals.

It might be your inexperience, he thinks, that you offered the opportunity in the first place since arrangements like these usually end in disaster and rarely without someone getting hurt. He’s willing to hurt if it means that you’ll get out of this without the pain of utter heartbreak but what he misses to see is that you’ve already started falling for him.

You shake your head with a chuckle at his expression but there’s not much to be said. He knows the consequences, he always has. It’s not a question of ‘if’ you’re going to fall in love with him, it’s a case of ‘when’ on both parts and you know this dance is a dangerous one, all that does is attract you to the idea even more.

You say the one thing that resides at the back of your mind each time you see him and he listens, nodding his head at your words while your soft voice fills the room.

“Don’t fall in love with me. That’s the only rule.”

And you’re out, leaving a confused and brokenhearted Alfie behind the now closed doors.

----

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @bicevans @mollybegger-blog @97freaknik. @fuseburner

a/n: Let me know what you thought of the chapter!!

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cosmic-lavender · 3 years

Text

Stability Chapter 10

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Author note: Yes this is another flashback chapter, I had so much fun doing the last chapter I decided to expand more. This chapter is pretty long so thanks for sticking with the story so far💜

You're 21 now and looking out the window at the beautiful orange and deep red sunset. It's been 3 years since the incident at the bar. And since then the family has told you more about the comings and goings that happened there. You of course were shocked at first and widely taken aback.Your moral compass was definitely damaged considering the fact that you were very biased to the family due to the fact that you were pretty much part of this family.

They never asked you to participate but now that you were aware of the knowledge that they were hiding from you they hid it a lot less. though this sounds like this would have been an inconvenience It actually was quite refreshing because now you felt that you had more freedom walking around the house and there was less censorship in your presence.

You even started working at Captain's Spalding's gas station a couple days a week, who himself was thrilled at the fact that you were now aware of what was going on and that you seem to be taking it very well. "I always had a feeling you did alright with weird" he said. "I remember that time you brought home that squirrel skeleton with the baby and you tried to glue it back together or something. That's when I was like this girl's going to be either a taxidermy or some weird shit". You laughed spraying more Windex on the display case. "How's your old man by the way? ``he asked, counting the money in the drawer. This is pretty much the only gas station that your father used when he was filling up in between his truck stops.

"You tell me he talks to you a lot more than he talks to me. I actually haven't seen him for maybe a week and a half." "Oh well now little darling don't get sad your old man's a good man. He just doesn't know how to be a daddy you know?". You just hummed in agreement, not really wanting to go any further on the subject." I'm sad about finishing up the last of my courses at that school a couple cities away What are you going to do without me here?" You said in a chuckle to hide the fact you were incredibly sad about leaving the family.

"Well shit I'm going to be lost without ya but it won't be long before you're back". "I asked Baby and Otis to come and see me. They said they'll try but Otis said he doesn't like to be seen out in public too much especially in a big city. I mean I get it but I'm going to miss them and you of course". You stood up and brushed off your pants, sighing deeply. "Yeah Otis is not one for being in the city You might be able to get Baby to come down it's hard to get her to focus and she's not really a good driver but I'll try to bring them down at least once to see you and I'll try to call you you know and feel free to call me at anytime You know my number you know where I'm at." He walked around the counter and gave you a big hug "we need at least one of us in this family to be educated so you go get them smarts".

The day you packed up your truck Baby helped you, You told her that you were in a hurry so you couldn't wait for Otis to get done with whatever he was doing to say goodbye and that you'll call the house later. Truth be told there was a lump growing in your throat at the thought of leaving. The two of you had only gotten closer,late nights of him showing you his work and talking to you about anything really that popped into his mind. You also notice how jealous you got when you knew he was out with one of Charlie's girls.

You also noticed that whenever you brought up any boys that you may have seen around town that might be attractive he always scoffed and said "there ain't no good boys in this town bunch of fucking idiots". You would secretly hope that's because he was jealous but you weren't sure if it's due to jealousy or the fact that he was just protective of you.

You settled into your classes pretty fast even making a couple friends in some of them. After about 3 to 4 months you would call the house every weekend and talk to the baby for hours. You would also talk to Otis but he was usually interrupted by being yelled at by someone mostly doing the yelling. He never brought up if he had any attraction to you and you decided it wasn't good to bring it up either You're silly schoolgirl crush was probably just that and you just started to accept that I mean he was so much older than you What would he want in you? He probably saw you as a child.

You had struck up an acquaintance ship with an attractive young man in your political science class. Due to being an accelerated semester you were only going to be in the course with each other for about 3 months. You came to find out that his name was Dayton and that he was very smart. At the end of the semester he has asked you on a date, you told him you had to think about it, a small flash of hurt appeared across his face "it's not that there's anything wrong with you it's just I don't know if I have time to date anybody right now and I'm late calling home I will give you a ring later though okay?" You asked heading toward your room "ok y/n um yeah call me whenever" he said and headed the opposite way. when you reach the back to your dorm you rang the Firefly's house, discuss what you learned today in political science with Otis. Mama Firefly answered when you called, she was over the moon to hear from you.

After talking for a while you asked her if Otis was home, because you had agreed to talk at 6:30. "Oh I'm sorry sugar dumpling but he's at Charlie's but Baby is home wanna talk to her?" Your stomach twisted, he blew off your phone conversation to go fuck a whore? Well that cleared up anything you were wondering about how he felt.. "Actually Mama, I think I have someone on call waiting. Can you tell Baby I'll call her tomorrow?" "Sure thing honey we miss you!" "Miss you too mama" you hung up the phone and called another number "hey Dayton I think I am free for dinner after all".

When Otis returned home he immediately hurried over where the phone was. Was he too late? She said 8:30 right? He rang your dorm number before hanging it up hard when you didn't answer. Fuck it he thought and headed to the kitchen for a beer. "Oh Otis!" Y/n called for you I told her you were at Charlie's" Mama's voice ran out from the living room as he passed.

"Wait when did she call and you told her what?!" He angrily asked whipping his head out "I was out with Cutter and it was 8:30 she was supposed to call" " mmm hmm well honey she said 6:30 but then she said she said she had another call so she's gonna call back tomorrow" she replied looking back toward her show. He swallowed his annoyance and stomped back upstairs after grabbing his beer, god why the fuck did he care?! And why did he rush over here just to shoot the shit with you on the phone.. "god dammit" he thought to himself "fucking God dammit".

The date went well to your surprise, dinner was lovely followed by a fun conversation (or debate) depending on who you ask. You started to wonder if you had wasted time pining over the idea of Otis being interested in you and maybe you should focus on someone your own age. You didn't call the house for the rest of the week, Baby left some messages on your answering machine as well as Spalding. Nothing from Otis though, A small part of you was disappointed. You eventually called Baby back and you had told her how you went on a date with a nice young man. She was happy for you and wanted to hear every detail. You asked about Otis and she said he was in a mood right now so it's best not to bug him.

Otis had walked by the room when he heard Baby talking to you on the phone, He heard that you had gone out with a young man. Good for her he thought, the sooner I get the idea of her out of my head the better she's a fucking kid anyway. He decided to head to Charlie's and relieve some tension. He thought he got you out his head at least for the time being, that was until he found himself picking the girl who had your hair color, your eyes and around the same height. Walking into the prostitutes room he pictured your face, god dammit he thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.

You had gone on a couple more dates with Dayton. So far he had been a perfect gentleman. One night after a particularly wonderful date You had both ended up back at your place. You've never gone fully all the way You had kissed and stuff a couple of boys around town but nothing ever lasted, You were nervous and you let him know that you were not experienced in this department. He kept reassuring you that it was going to be fine and that he would take care of you. It almost seemed like he was rushing you a bit to not change your mind but you decided that he was just happy to be close to you.

You ended up going all the way with him but throughout the ordeal it was not as exciting as you thought it would be. He seemed to be more focused on getting himself off than focusing on you, halfway through you thought to yourself that you would wish he would hurry up.( He was way smaller than he led you to believe *eye roll*.)You also noticed that at one point you found yourself imagining Otis on top of you.. saying you were conflicted was definitely an understatement.

After that night he left in the morning after falling asleep right after he finished. You got up to the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought back to the night at the bar and all the other nights that he would spend at the house. You felt so homesick for everyone although your time here in college was fun and you're glad that you experienced it You were starting to wonder if this was really where you wanted to be. The days following after you and Dayton had been intimate you noticed the change in him he was starting to become more aggressive. The sweet demeanor that he had was slowly disappearing to someone who was controlling and short-tempered. He was starting to insist that he stayed over every night even when you told him that you had studying to do and that you did not want to be distracted. He had pressured you for sex again to which you declined and said that you are still recovering from your last session. He began to grow more impatient, He also started to dictate what he wanted you to wear and what he wanted you to eat.

At this point it only been about 3 weeks since you guys had become a couple. You decided that it was moving too fast. The final straw was when you were about to eat a bagel and he slapped it out of your hand and said Don't you think you've had enough? You're gaining a little bit of weight. You hadn't told anyone at the house about the situation because you didn't want them to worry, now that the semester was ending you decided that it was time to head back home and decide what you want to do with your life.You weren't as happy here as you thought you were going to be.

You decided to break the news to Dayton that you wanted to just remain friends You made sure to tell him while you were on the way to class so he would have a reason not to linger and make a scene because he was starting to show he also has signs of having an anger problem.He would have outbursts at the most smallest things and seemed to blame you for them. After telling him that you just wanted to be friends you hurried away from him before he could start an argument You could see the anger and confusion and his eyes but you knew you had to get away before he got upset. Part of was worried that he would hit you but you also thought maybe you were being paranoid either way you didn't want to take that chance so you hurried away from him as soon as possible You felt bad about breaking up with him this way but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Heading back to your room You saw that the phone was ringing You assumed it was Dayton so you decided not to answer it You were already tired and stressed enough You didn't really didn't want to have a debate about the relationship. The machine picked it up "ah hey there kitten or ah y/n guess I shouldn't call you that no more cus you got a boyfriend I and I don't know if he's the jealous type or whatever and all, anyway just wanted to see how ya doing and if you forgot us rednecks over here, I guess I'll let…" it was Otis! Hearing his voice your heart skipped a beat you nearly fell right on your face rushing to grab the phone. "Hey! Hi Otis'' you were out of breath from running to grab the phone but tried to chill out so he didn't notice. "I'm glad you called I've missed you". "I've missed you too darlin. How's the big ol fancy city treating you? Ain't the same without you here Baby is driving me nuts man".

You hadn't noticed until you felt a cold wet tear hit your hand that you were crying. Hearing his voice had ripped at your heart more intensely than you had anticipated..fuck you missed him. "I'm thinking about coming home for a while I actually might be able to submit my final paper through the mail but maybe you can look over it it's political science so you know stupid government stuff but thought you'd be interested". You said that last sentence so fast it nearly took all your breath. "Shit I would love too when you come home? I gotta make sure I get all my projects out the way so we can dedicate the entire afternoon to it. I'm sure there's a lot I have to unteach you about what they're trying to tell you is the truth". You laughed there was the Otis you knew. "Plus I know Baby and mama are gonna be excited for you to come home. They are gonna want to make a big deal." Coming home… that's when it hits you… that was home they were home.

"Well I was thinking" your sentence got interrupted by a very aggressive knock on the door. "Oh ah hold on Otis That might be campus security they seem to be knocking on the door very hard". He walked over to open the door still holding the phone Otis held the phone in his shoulder as he took out his knife and started sharpening it, might as well multitask. "Hi is everything ok officer.. oh hey Dayton" your voice fell at the end Otis heard it too, he sat up a little straighter listening more intensely. "I didn't like how we left our conversation earlier." He stated with his hands in his pockets mo"I understand I may have been kinda mean to you lately and I'm sorry but I think that's over with now, water under the bridge?"

He opened his arms as if to ask for a hug but he also seemed to be clenching his teeth slightly as well trying to hold in his anger, "thank you Dayton that's very sweet and of course no hard feelings thanks for taking this so well, I'm afraid I have to go though I'm on the phone with family but you have a good night" as you went to close the door he stopped it with his foot. "Maybe you don't understand me.. no one rejects me" he snarled trying to push the door more open. "Dayton you should go" you started trying to not look so frightened but truth be told this was terribly frightening. Otis stood up and while holding the phone in his shoulder while looking for his gun,knife and keys. Who the fuck was this kid talking to you like that? He thought to himself, fuck this kid.

That's when his stomach sank and his blood boiled over.. he heard something he never wanted to hear again, you screamed out of fear and dropped the phone "y/n"! He yelled into the phone over and over but you didn't answer. He wasted no time in running downstairs to where Baby was. He was practically screaming in her face what's the name of that college that you're at and what does she know about this kid Dayton. She quickly told him and then asked him what the problem was. He ignored her instead searching for Rufus and telling him that he has something to take care of with him. He grabbed the keys and hurried out of the house. He had never driven so fast in his life, Rufus kept a look out for the cops as they sped down the highway. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there other than he wanted to teach that kid a lesson.

You had dropped the phone to press your entire body weight against the door to prevent Dayton from coming inside your dorm. It was difficult Because he was so much larger than you. "Go away Dayton!!!!" You screamed "someone help someone!!" You frantically repeated hopefully someone would walk by and see the commotion."open the door you bitch!!" He screamed pushing it with all his weight, you leaned down grabbed the phone right as he was able to push his face into the doorway, you hit him as hard as you could in the face with it, he staggered back in pain as you pushed the door fully closed. You grabbed the phone again, "Otis!" You screamed into it before realizing the other line was dead.

Wasting no time to figure out what was happening on his end you dialed campus security. You heard Dayton attempting to break down your door by slamming into it. You started to cry angry frustrated tears. Why can't he just go away?!. "Hello hello is anyone there," campus security asked, finally connecting on the other end. You hurried to explain the situation to campus security who urged you to stay on the line as they came to your dorm. Unfortunately Dayton had run off before they could come. They assured you they would be checking in on you and keeping an eye out for him. You nodded and curled up in the bathroom with the door locked which was the only place you felt safe. "I wish Otis was here" you thought to yourself.

Little did you know he was, his brother and him drove as fast as they could and ended up on the compass in no time. He didn't know what Dayton looked like besides the shitty description from Baby. "What are we gonna do when we find him?" Rufus asked. He was worried about you as well but he didn't want to start something that would get you expelled. "We're not going to do anything but teach the boy a lesson that's all" Otis replied. "Scare him straight".

As much as Otis wanted to do unspeakable things to him Rufus was right This is not the place to do it especially if he was seen associated with you. As luck would have it they happened to see a young man fitting the description who looked like he was in a hurry with some bags and other materials. He seems to be trying to flee the campus as fast as possible. "I think that's our guy" Rufus said.Otis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They slowly walked over to where he was loading up his small car. Rufus came up behind him and asked him for directions when he turned around to give a snarky response to him just as Otis threw a bag over his head and pulled him into the bushes.

Dayton struggled and tried to scream as Rufus held him, Otis shut him up quickly though pulling out his large hunting knife and pressing it up to his neck. "Hey there you pig faced rat nose son of a bitch, I'ma need you to listen and listen good if you ever so much as breathe in the same direction as y/n again I will cut off your I assume very small balls and shove them down your throat". Dayton didn't answer, he just started to shake and suddenly tears began running down his face. "Oh shit this boy is crying!!! Hahaha! Little pussy ass bitch". Otis laughed pointing at him. Rufus walked over and pointed a gun in his face,"you understand us boy? You come near y/n again it's all bad for you". "I understand" he stuttered over and over again. They grabbed him and pushed him into the mud, exploding in laughter.

Heading back to the truck there laughter echoed throughout the campus. You looked up and could have sworn that you heard a slight hint of Otis'h voice through your bathroom window. "Is that Otis? No no way my mind is making me imagine things''. The next day after getting approval from the Dean that you were able to mail in the rest of your assignment you loaded up your truck and headed back to Ruggsville. Passing the gas station as you entered into town you felt relief wash over you. You were finally home.

#otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #three from hell #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #thedevilsrejects #the devils rejects

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producer-miss-chips · 4 years

Text

Analyzing Helios’s Words- About Kiro and Helios’s Origin Story

Please be warned that this theory includes spoilers from a few of Kiro's dates and from the general story!

So after finishing Chapter 21, I decided to try and share this theory that started when I heard Helios's words.

The writing here made it clear that Helios is speaking from personal experience. His words are a mix of earnestness, harshness and worry.

And since Helios is actually Kiro (somewhat xD), we can infer from that a bit more about Kiro's past.

Discerning Kiro's Past

From bits of information we learn throughout the dates and stories, it's clear Kiro grew up alone. He hints to that a few times: whether the fact that he doesn't know his own birthday, (as seen on his "Birthday Date"), the fact that he always had to spend holidays and birthdays alone (as seen in "New Spring Date" and "Confession Date"), or his story of wishing to "not always be alone" (in his "Old Friend Date").

In his "Confession Date", Kiro pretty much says this fact outright:

(Screenshot from Lucien's Wife's Youtube channel.)

In this screenshot, I want to point out one more thing: the start of his sentence.

"My memory may be a little hazy..."

Psychology has proven that when someone experiences something very traumatic, their body may try and forget what happened and when. So the fact that Kiro experiences memory problems about his childhood, may mean that he went through some pretty harsh stuff as a kid. These experiences were so scarring, his body decided that it was better to forget them than remember.

I mean, just the fact that he had to spend his whole childhood alone is really harsh. He literally had no one to turn to. You can really see that in his story in "Old Friend Date".

We know Kiro had a mentor who was really important to him. Kiro may not talk about him a lot, but from the little we've seen, it's not hard to see how much he influenced Kiro's life. Heck, he even named Kiro.

It almost seems like this guy was Kiro's father, in some way. Or the closest thing to a father figure that Kiro had.

But then he disappeared, and Kiro was left all alone. For years Kiro never really had someone he truly trusted. YEARS. Only when MC entered his life again, did he finally have someone he could lean on.

It's impossible to go through such a harsh experience without being affected. You have to develop some way to cope with it, and Kiro found his way: happiness, love and music.

But that doesn't mean the darker part doesn't exist.

And that's where Helios comes in.

Kiro vs. Helios

As said before, it's impossible to go through something traumatic without getting scarred. And, if you miraculously manage to survive what you went through, you learn to develop a thick hide.

Both Kiro and Helios show signs of this: Kiro in a more subtle way (he never complains, for instance), while Helios... is outright about it (does he even try to hide his harsh behavior?).

Everyone has a dark side: even angels like Kiro. Helios is this side, a person that stemmed from everything Kiro experienced. He's the side Kiro hides, and he shows us our blonde angel has a lot more depth than it may seem on the surface.

After everything Kiro experienced, he had a choice: do the hard thing and be kind to everyone, in order to fix what he went through; or close off and just stay away from any person who could be a threat. Kiro chose to go the kind way, spreading love and laughter to everyone. That doesn't mean that he couldn't have chosen the latter. It doesn't mean that he doesn't feel Helios inside him. If that was the case, how could Kiro even become Helios?

(As mentioned in this theory, the Helios in chapters 20-21 may actually be who Kiro would have become if he didn't choose this path.)

And then, we have the rest of Helios's words.

For convenience purposes, I'm dividing this into parts:

Use your strength, every method you can think of.

As pointed out before, both Helios and Kiro have strengths. Kiro's strength, being kind against all odds, may be less appreciated, but that doesn't make him any less impressive. And that doesn't make Helios's cold facade bad, either. It just means that they have different advantages:

Kiro has the strength to overcome his demons and give to others against all odds.

Helios has the strength to make sure others don't mess with him.

So when Kiro's strengths don't work out, he reverts to Helios and vice-versa. That's how, at the end of the day, Kiro uses all his strength. He knows one way is never the complete answer, so he has no problem trying the other way too.

The difference in these situations is which side is more dominant: the light one, or the dark one; Kiro, or Helios.

For example, the story shows us how Kiro is tangled up in Black Swan, even after he chose the path of kindness. From the endings of some of the earlier chapters, we can see quite enough proof: how Kiro wrote Helios's name in something relating to Black Swan, how Helios shows up amongst the organization, and many more.

I mean, in Chapter 17 Kiro says he fights Black Swan for MC. He had to have some way, some connection to them for him to do that, right?

These facts further prove my point: Kiro was never completely perfect. He always had a Helios side to him, MC just never got to see it. And, maybe, we can say the same about Helios: he was never completely bad. Otherwise, how would the Kiro moment have happened in Chapter 17?

My conclusion from this part, and this sentence of Helios, is that over here we can see how Kiro navigates the world. He uses the strengths of both his identities, and by that is flexible enough to use any method he can think of (Kiro method vs. Helios method) to do it.

That way, he learned not to be weak.

Abandon your past... even abandon yourself.

Kiro never really talks about his past. He prefers living in the moment, spending the best time he can with MC. And when he does mention a tidbit about his experiences, it's in one of two situations:

A casual mention or something he could laugh off.

When he's at his most vulnerable with MC.

Examples for the first part can be when he first mentions he doesn't know his birthday in the "Birthday Date". The way he said it sounded a lot like a happy coincidence. "Hey, since I don't really know my own birthday, let's celebrate our birthdays together!"

As you can see, this harsh fact is hidden very well in his words. He could've said it in a self-pitying way, but he chose not to. It almost seems like he's afraid of being 100% vulnerable with MC.

We'll get to that later, but first let me point out an example for one of Kiro's vulnerable.

In Kiro's "Old Friend Date", he tells MC a lot about how lonely he felt when he was 16. It's a heartbreaking story: he was just a kid, making his second album, but still felt lost. Because he had no one to guide him. So one day, he went to the shrine and wished to not always be alone.

Pay attention to the wording: Kiro didn't ask not to be alone, he asked not to always be alone. This word may not seem like much, but it shows a lot.

In his position, no one would blame Kiro if he would have wished not to be alone. But the angel was so desperate, he asked to not always be alone. That's the equivalent of saying "I know this may be an inconvenience to you, so I'll make it easier on you. I'm not asking to have someone constantly by my side, but I need someone to spend at least a bit of time with. Please."

The reason I'm emphasizing how harsh his reality was, is to raise awareness to this part, and how much Kiro downplays the whole story:

The moment Kiro sees the gravity of his story sink in, he laughs it off. Notice the amount of reasons he gave as to why MC shouldn't worry.

I was purposely exaggerating to make it interesting.

I was a teenager. I didn't know what I was doing. Now I'm much more mature! It was just something stupid that would never bother me today.

He was so desperate for MC not to take him at his word, that he gave two reasons as to why she shouldn't make a big deal out of it. Once again, Kiro does this, even if he was vulnerable at the start.

And even in other moments, where he's completely vulnerable with MC, he changes the topic really quickly. The moment the information sinks in, he's already changed the topic, laughing as if nothing ever happened.

So, in both situations mentioned above, we see how Kiro is never fully vulnerable. This means two things:

Kiro has trust issues because of his experiences.

He prefers running away from his past.

We already touched conclusion 1 before (somewhat), so for this we'll address only conclusion number two. It's an important point we'll come back to later.

Helios is a completely different story.

In the short amount of time MC spent with Helios, we learned almost as much as we did in all the time with Kiro. Just see how much Helios hinted to in these few sentences.

So saying that he's running from his past would be a lie. On the contrary: I think Helios is so connected to his past, he won't let anyone in. He just can't ignore the warnings his traumas whisper in his ear.

But there's one thing Helios does run away from, and that's himself.

One of the first recurring things Helios tells MC is "I'm NOT Kiro". In Chapter 17, every time MC mentions that possibility he denies it: over, and over, and over again. And at the end of MC's time with Kiro (in that chapter), when Kiro turns bavk to Helios, it describes how the tenderness in Kiro's eyes is replaced with cold apathy.

If Helios completely forgets what he, as Kiro, felt toward MC, I think it's safe to say that he's turning his back on himself.

So while we could say that Kiro is abandoning his past, Helios abandons himself.

And now, for the last sentence:

Helios is right. If MC can't survive in this cruel world, the harsh place he endured, then she has no place to be there. Because he grew up in a dog-eats-dog world, where every day was a fight.

And that is why Kiro chose to sacrifice himself for her, as stated in Chapter 17. He knew that harsh world didn't suit MC. He wanted her to stay safe and live in her bubble of happiness, give her a bit of peace and quiet, while HE faced the cruelty MC was fighting.

While Kiro did transform to Helios a few times before Chapter 14, it seems like it was for short bursts. But now, his transformation is for much longer: and it's all for MC.

But he can't protect MC forever, and it seems like Helios has started to realize that.

Thank you for reading this theory/analysis! I hope you liked it, and I'd love to hear what you think! ❤

#mlqc #mr love: queen's choice #mr love queen's choice #mlqc kiro #mlqc theories #mlqc analysis #mlqc helios #mlqc spoilers #mr love spoilers #mr love kiro #mr love helios #mr love #kiro x mc #kiro x producer #chapter 21

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srsly-messed-up-fruitloop · 4 years

Text

Supper’s Ready

Word Count: 2,033

Summary: A couple of weeks have passed since Danny’s accident with the portal. Fortunately, so far, he hasn’t experienced any symptoms at all, not even ghostly ones. Until one day, he begins throwing up ectoplasm.

Or, my take on Portal!Danny

Warning: Includes depictions of nausea and vomiting so...read at your own discretion

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Danny awoke with a groan. He clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes together as a wave of nausea hit him. If he could, he would’ve laid there forever, curled up in a ball fighting the sick feeling in his stomach. But it kept getting worse, and worse, until his instincts drove him to blindly stumble to his bathroom. Kneeling before his toilet, he held his mouth open, wishing for whatever he ate earlier to just come out already. It felt like an eternity before his dinner left him. Panting, he laid his cheek against the toilet seat as he felt the nausea starting to subside.

He doesn’t remember the last time he threw up. Probably when he was a kid. It couldn’t have been mom’s cooking, right? He recalled the glass of milk he had before bed. It did taste a bit funky.

He stood up, sparing a glance at his dinner once again. He was just about to flush it away until something caught his eye. A single translucent drop of something that glowed brightly green. Jazz probably did have a point about not keeping the ecto-weenies in the fridge.

A couple of weeks have passed since Danny’s accident with the portal. Unfortunately, the portal remained unfunctional since the brief moment when he had activated it. At first, Jazz and his friends were extremely concerned for him. After all, he was practically electrocuted. But seeing that there were no lasting effects, over time they’ve let go of the incident. Things resumed back to normal, save for Jazz becoming a lot more protective of her little brother.

Danny flushed and rinsed the foul taste from his mouth. He made a mental note to throw out the milk in the morning as he climbed back into his sheets.

A few days later, Danny was sitting at his desk in his bedroom, struggling to understand why he kept getting this one math question wrong. He swears he’s following the same steps in the textbook example. He was just about to give up and move onto the next question when his mouth suddenly felt dry. No, not again.

Ever since that night he puked, Danny’s stomach really wasn’t having it. More and more often the sick feeling would return, except nothing came out of it. He rested his head on his homework, waiting for the nausea to pass. At this point he just wanted whatever bad food, stomach bug, or whatever to leave him already. Maybe he should ask his parents to take him to the doctor.

At that thought, his gut uncomfortably lurched and he barely grabbed his wastebasket in time. It’s a shame those tater tots from the cafeteria had to go to waste. Just when he thought he was finished, he felt a painful jolt in his abdomen and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt something, with an almost slimy-like texture pour out. The sensation of it running up his throat made him feel even sicker than he was.

He took a moment to breathe before opening his eyes again. He almost dropped the bin at what he saw. It was the same glowing green substance he saw that other night. Except this time, it took up three quarters of his wastebasket! He couldn’t even see his lunch from earlier.

Slightly panicked now, he quickly scrambled up from his desk chair to get rid of it. If Jazz saw him now, she’d never let him hear the end of it.

After flushing it away, he turned to the sink to clean himself up. But, the sight of himself in the mirror made him freeze.

He saw that green fluid, staining his white shirt as it steadily dripped from his chin. He almost gagged when he still felt it present in his mouth. But what truly frightened him was his now green irises, glowing brightly in the same intensity as the fluid.

What was wrong with him?

Ectoplasm. That’s what was inside him.

Over dinner, his dad was excitedly explaining how he had extracted the substance from a ghost. His mom joined in, explaining its scientific properties. And while Jazz expressed her disgust at bringing something like that to the dinner table, the whole conversation was lost to Danny’s ears. All he saw was the small vial his dad was showing off, containing the same substance he had been heaving out daily in the last week.

Danny was in the middle of an English test when he felt it. It wasn’t all that painful anymore, and he’s gotten used to holding it down just long enough until he could get to a washroom. Still, it always was very uncomfortable. And inconvenient, especially at times like now. He raised up his hand and cringed as Lancer stared at him suspiciously.

“Yes, Mr. Fenton?”

“Can I—uh...go to the bathroom?”

Lancer sighed as he glanced at the clock. “Fine. Please hurry back though, you only have 20 minutes left for the test.”

“Thanks Mr. Lancer,” Danny mumbled as he got up from his seat. He fought the feeling of Wes glaring a hole in the back of his head, along with the weird stares from some of his other classmates. Sam and Tucker worriedly watched as their friend left the classroom.

Alone, in the bathroom, Danny used his hands to brace himself against both sides of the stall, as he crouched in front of the toilet, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He hated doing this at school.

He counted to three and then let go, expelling the seemingly endless supply of ectoplasm within him. Every time he did this, there was always that little nagging voice at the back of his head, telling him that he really should tell someone about this. His parents should know what to do, right? But, every time he attempts to do so, he just...he can’t go through with it. Hearing them rant about their pure hatred for ghosts and the inventions they’ve created just to torture them makes his stomach lurch for a whole other reason. He knows they love him...but...what if they try to hurt him?

As for Jazz and his friends, he honestly can’t bring himself to burden them more after the portal accident. After all this time, he still occasionally sees the guilt in Sam’s eyes. Besides, who’s to say this won’t go away on its own...right?

He wiped his chin with the back of his hand after he felt nothing else coming up. However, he was greatly mistaken.

The next moment, sheer agony shot through his abdomen, causing him to lose balance and hit his back against the stall’s door. It never hurt this bad before!

His body went rigid when he felt a frightening chill freeze his insides. A burning green—almost yellow light was all that he could see as he was overwhelmed by the brutal sensation of his insides being ripped apart. His mouth was forced open by an invisible force as something else crept up his painfully inflamed throat. It wasn’t ectoplasm this time.

Panting heavily, all Danny could do was lay there against the door as the blinding light and pain gradually faded away. The first thing he saw after regaining his vision was a spectral tail disappearing into the ceiling.

“Good morning, this is Tiffany Snow reporting Amity Park’s latest breaking news. Recently, we have received several reports of ghost sightings. Witnesses have expressed that these ghosts have been trespassing their homes, destroying property, and terrorizing civillians. The Amity Police Depar…”

“Those no good specters!”

“Jack, honey, do you know what this means?”

“Of course Maddie, the town needs us!”

“But the sudden increase in ghost activity, it must mean something…”

“What are you sayin’ Mads?”

“Where would these ghosts be coming from? Natural portals don’t stay open long enough for any significant entities to escape the Ghost Zone. Unless...maybe something is causing them to stay open longer?”

“You might be onto something, gosh Mads you’re so clever! Well, better get right to sealing up those portals for good. Oh, I got the perfect idea for an invention!” Jack exclaimed as ran downstairs into the lab.

“Danny?”

Danny just realized he’d been holding his breath throughout his parents’ conversation. At the sound of his mom’s voice directed at him, he dropped his spoon. “Y-yea mom?” he stuttered as he anxiously gazed at her.

She was holding a silver-gray thermos with metallic green details. “Today, I’m packing your lunch in the Fenton thermos. We’d be horrible parents let you kids go to school defenseless. Just remember to point and push, okay?”

“Um, okay. Thanks mom,” Danny mumbled.

She kissed his head before he could protest and said, “I’m going to help your father out. Have a great day at school sweetie.”

After his mom disappeared downstairs into the lab, Danny morosely glanced at his half-eaten cereal. He’s probably not gonna keep it down anyways. Fenton thermos in hand, he grabbed his backpack and left to catch the school bus.

Danny could almost say he’s gotten used to being nauseous all the time. Now when he threw up, more often than not an actual ghost would come up. But now, the guilt from causing all the recent ghost activity grew with each passing day. Yet, no matter how much he’d tried stopping himself, all he did was make the pain even more unbearable. Something was seriously wrong with him.

One day, he recovered quickly enough to see an octopus-like ghost escape into the school’s hallways. As he exited the washroom, he saw the ghost hurling textbooks at students and scaring anyone that got near.

This was all his fault. He winced as he saw poor Mikey get his glasses knocked off his face by his own math textbook. He had to do something. Wait. Danny reached into his bag, finding the now empty Fenton thermos.

“Just point and push, right?” he muttered to himself as he took aim at the ectopus. A light blue beam shot out the thermos, enveloping the ghost and pulling it inside. Danny blinked as he noticed the small display on the flask read 25% CAPACITY.

“Huh, that was easy.”

Using the Fenton thermos to capture the ghosts really helped ease some of his guilt. However, all too soon the thermos had hit its capacity and Danny had no idea what to do with it.

He’d secretly borrowed another one from his parents and already that one was full too. He needed to figure out something quick.

“Hey dad?”

“What’s up Danno?”

“Uh...how do you get rid of ghosts?”

“Son, I’m so glad to see you taking an interest in the family business! Me and your mom are still finding out a way to get rid of those spooks for good. For now, we’ve got the Fenton Ghost Weasel and the Fenton thermos to catch them.”

“But, what if you run out of space to keep them?”

Danny’s dad scratched his head in thought. “Never really thought much about that. I guess when the time comes, we just gotta send those suckers back where they came from. Maybe by then, we’ll find those portals that are causing us all this trouble.”

Back where they came from?

By now, Danny knows that the accident with his parents’ portal had to have something to do with his...condition. And considering that all the ghosts are coming from inside him...maybe the portal did end up working after all. Except, not in the way he’d expected. He tried not to think too much about it. How an opening to an entirely different dimension was...inside him.

But, he had a more immediate problem to worry about. And as much as the solution grossed him out, he had no choice.

Currently sat on his bed, Danny stared at the two full flasks in front of him. His dad’s words rang in his ears as he unscrewed the cap off one. His stomach turned uncomfortably as he spared a glance at its contents.

Bringing up the thermos to his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut to brace himself for what he was going to do next.

Here goes nothing.

#danny phantom #PLEASE listen to Supper's Ready by Genesis #even though it has nothing to do with this #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #portal!danny #one shot #nausea tw #vomiting tw #i hope i'm not missing any important tw tags #grooveactuallywrites

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rainandhotchocolate · 4 years

Text

Meeting the parents

A/N so lol I’m an idiot it's actually day 9 and I’m just slowly going insane. ANYWAY this was a request I got a while ago (eek sorry!) For a Harry x Reader where the reader meets Jily but also trouble ensues...

I changed it up a little bit, I hope you like it! Send me a DM if you want another version.

Y/N was standing outside a large snow-covered cottage, shivering in the cool air, staring up at the flickering light in the top-most window. She took in a deep breath to steel herself before pushing the front gate open and walking down the cobblestone path towards the front door. It was a deep green colour, with a small lion’s head knocker at the top. She rapped three times using the knocker, stepping backwards and onto the edge of the front step taking in a large breath of air. It’s fine, it’s just your boyfriend’s parents, you’ve done this before. Be calm. Be friendly. Don’t talk about how their son definitely took your virginity.

The door swung open revealing a smiling red-head woman with sparkling green eyes and matching emerald dress, and a man whose arm was wrapped around the woman’s waist, messy black hair and sharp features an uncanny resemblance to Y/N’s boyfriend.

“Y/N!” Lily beamed at her, stepping onto the front step to pull her into a tight hug, “I’m so glad you could spend some of the holidays with us.”

Y/N felt herself blush lightly as Lily’s long red-hair tickled her cheek and she had the sudden realisation that she was hugging England’s most renowned healer who had been featured on the cover of Witch Weekly at least 3 times. Lily pulled away, still beaming, turning to yell to Harry to come and meet them. She ushered her inside the house, brushing the snow of her coat and taking her bag, handing it immediately to James who placed it at the end of the stairs.

Once they had reached the living room James gave Y/N a firm handshake, placing another hand on top of hers.

“Tea? Butterbeer? Eggnog?” James asked. Y/N was still a little mesmerised at how similar they looked, sure that they were even within an inch of each other’s height. She shook herself out of her stare.

“Butterbeer, thank you!” Y/N smiled, and he nodded slipping out of the room.

It wasn’t like Y/N had never seen Harry’s parents before, but she hadn’t met them in person. Their photos were plastered all over Harry’s bedroom wall and they had photos throughout the Daily Prophet at least 3 times a month. Y/N would be surprised if there was a single wizarding family that wouldn’t recognise them. But seeing them up close was just so much more… well, real. And she was having a hard time not fangirling.

Y/N turned towards the doorway as she heard hurried footsteps coming down the hallway. Harry’s head popped around the doorway, grinning when he saw Y/N.

“You’re here!”

“Just like I said I would,” Y/N grinned back, standing up and letting him pull her into a hug, laughing loudly as her legs swung off the ground.

“Careful not to break another vase,” Lily warned, eyeing Harry.

“You hate Petunia’s vase anyway,” Harry replied, his eyes matching James’ as he walked back into the room holding four butterbeers.

“Cheeky,” Lily scolded, “I don’t know who taught you to talk back like that.”

She glared pointedly at James but her lip was curling into a smile. Harry wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist as they sat on the large armchair together.

“To his credit, it is a bloody ugly vase. You’d think she could pick another pattern, or merlin forbid another glass ornament all together!” James threw his arms up in mock defeat.

“At least she’s consistent,” Lily snorted, glancing over at the vase sitting on the cabinet by the doorway. Y/N followed her gaze, grimacing at the large seafoam coloured vase, decorated with small prancing dogs.

“How was the trip over then? Are you apparating yet?” James handed Y/N a butterbeer and sat down next to Lily on the couch, placing a hand on Lily’s knee.

“She was first in the class to apparate,” Harry beamed, nudging Y/N in the ribs who rolled her eyes, smiling, “Beat even Hermione.”

“Well Hermione is better at just about everything else,” Y/N reasoned but Harry waved her off.

“Too modest, love.”

“Perfect amount, thanks.”

“Well what I hear from Harry and the few matches I’ve seen, you’ve no reason to be modest about Quidditch,” James leaned forward, obviously eager to talk sports. Harry received letters after every game expecting a play-by-play, and he always visited for finals, sometimes trailed by Sirius Black and the entire female population of Hogwarts. Even Y/N had to admit, to Hermione never Harry, that Sirius Black was stupidly good-looking.

Lily chuckled, standing up.

“I’m going to check on dinner then.”

“Oh, Y/N, you have to tell dad about the game before Christmas! The look on Mulciber’s face!”

Y/N grinned and launched into the story of how she managed to get two Slytherin beaters to slam into each other whilst she zoomed the quaffle towards goal. Eventually Lily called out for someone to help set the table for dinner.

“We’ll do it!” Harry spoke a tad too quickly, James smirking at him whilst Harry deliberately tried to ignore his fathers gaze, “come on Y/N.”

He stood up and held out a hand for Y/N to take, leading her into the dining room. Once they were clear from parental prying eyes he pulled her close to his chest, arms tight around her waist and kissed her softly. Y/N leaned into him, breathing in the smell of grass and butterbeer, letting him open her mouth and continue to slowly press his lips against hers.

They pulled apart, smiling.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Harry put a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I missed you.”

“It’s been three days you dork.”

“Can’t you ever let me be sentimental?” Harry laughed, his arms still tucked around her waist.

“Perhaps I may have missed you too,” Y/N bit her lip, smiling up at his bright green eyes. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“We should probably actually set some of the table before James comes snooping,” Harry sighed, pulling away from her and nodding towards the cabinet where they kept utensils. By the time James and Lily came in Y/N was prodding Harry mercilessly as he laughed. Y/N stood up quickly, red creeping up into her cheeks again as she saw the Harry’s parents smiling faces.

“Uh, sorry, he just –“

“I whipped her with a tea towel,” Harry admitted, still smiling.

“Then he definitely deserved it,” James nodded in approval, placing down the large plated roast in the centre of the table. Lily followed suit, putting bowls of gravy and grilled vegetables.

“These Potter boys sometimes need to be taken down a peg,” Lily winked at Y/N, sitting down at the table, James sitting next to her.

Y/N was feeling much more at ease when dinner had finished, every plate cleared of the delicious spread Lily and James had put together for her arrival. They had asked her about her parents in Scotland who were researchers into muggle affairs, Lily particularly approving of Y/N’s primary school experience in a muggle school similar to Harry’s. At one point in the meal a loud voice had called out from the living room, making Y/N jump but Lily just huff.

“Tell him we’re eating dinner!” She called to James who scurried into the next room to talk to the mysterious voice, “It’s just Sirius, he likes to call in at the most inconvenient times.”

“Tell him I want to ride on his motorcycle!” Harry called out as well, grinning mischievously at his mother.

“Over my dead body,” Lily shook her head at him, “It’s ridiculous how like James you are sometimes.”

Y/N could hear James speaking to Sirius softly before two sets of footsteps moved into the kitchen. James returned moments later.

“He’s waiting in the kitchen, I’d get the you-know-what out of there before he scoffs it down.”

“Oh shoot!” Lily moved swiftly from the kitchen, leaving James the centre of attention.

“What’s going on?” Harry looked suspicious. Y/N had heard many stories about Harry’s father and his friends, two Aurors and one in the Department for the regulation and control of magical creatures. In the first wizarding war they had been part of the rebellion front that helped jail enough death eaters to push Voldemort underground. That hadn’t stopped his more loyal followers keeping a close eye on anyone close to those who were involved, particularly the Potters.

“Ahh nothing, some Ministry business,” James smiled at Harry but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Don’t do that, you know I’m as experienced as anybody, I can handle information,” Harry’s eyes flashed at his father, but his dad just barked out a laugh.

“This is what you get for raising your son in your own petulant image,” James shook his head and took his seat at the dining table. “There have been sightings.”

“Of Voldemort?” Y/N couldn’t help herself, her heart jumping at James’ words. There had been sightings before, of course, numerous ones throughout Europe and the English countryside, most of them made from fear or fame. Harry had gotten himself into danger a few times across his years at Hogwarts, namely when Bellatrix and Rudolf Lestrange broke out of Askaban, executing an attack on Hogwarts only last year.

“Nearby?” Harry cut of James from answering my first question. James paused for a moment, looking at the two teenagers leaning forwards in front of him.

“Within England.”

“You definitely know more than that,” Harry huffed, crossing his arms.

“I’ve already told you confidential Ministry information, count yourself lucky,” James gave Harry a look that Y/N couldn’t quite make out but Harry slumped into his chair and didn’t say anything else.

Before a potentially uncomfortable silence could fall over them Lily’s heels could be heard clicking up the hallway and back into the dining room. Y/N looked at her in surprise when she realised Lily was holding a large, bright red cake. It took Y/N a moment to realise it was a large quaffle.

“Harry told us that it was your birthday towards the end of term,” Lily smiled at her and Y/N felt a swell of warmth in the pit of her stomach.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Well we’re all about birthdays around here, so I thought we’d give you another celebration since you’re here for a week.” Lily placed the cake on the table in front of Y/N and with a flick of her wand had lit the candles sitting on top. Seventeen bright candles.

“Alright boys come on,” Lily indicated to them to stand up and they began singing Happy birthday to her. Y/N grinned, feeling a mixture of embarrassed and happy.

After they’d finished Lily took said she would show Y/N to her room, regardless of Harry requesting to do it himself. She grabbed Y/N’s bag and walked up the stairs, directing Y/N to the first room along the hallway.

“Now I know that you and Harry are of age, and have been dating for a year, but as a parent we have the right to make it as difficult as possible for you to find each others bedrooms,” Lily winked at her, grinning as she put her bag on the bed. “But for your reference it’s the last down the hall. And our bedroom is next door.”

With another smile she left Y/N to change and get ready for bed. She pulled the covers across her, waiting for the patter of feet on carpet to stop before pulling them back off and slipping out of bed. The door squeaked open and she winced praying that Lily and James may at least pretend to be asleep.

Y/N padded her way down the wall, wincing again as she passed Harry’s parents room and pulling the door open to Harry’s bedroom. Harry was sitting up in bed reading but quickly put it down when Y/N entered the room.

“What was that?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, closing the door softly.

“What was what?” Harry had a blank expression on his face, clear sign of a lie.

She edged closer to him and pounced on the bed, pulling the book out from under him and holding it arms length away so she could read it before he stole it back.

“Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches?” Y/N giggled loudly as Harry tickled Y/N to get her to fall over and drop the book.

“It’s Ron’s copy.”

“Liar,” Y/N snorted rolling over on the other side of this bed to get away from his hands, Harry rolling ontop of her.

“Perhaps,” He grinned at her, holding her hands above her head.

“So you have a witch to charm huh?”

“Yeah, no one you’d know.”

“You’re the worst,” Y/N laughed again, watching his smile grow wider as he watched her underneath him. He leaned down and kissed her, Y/N leaning her head up so she could meet him halfway. He rolled off her and turned to the side, pulling her into his chest, an arm around her waist.

“I’m going to be honest these walls are very thin, and the idea of my parents hearing me have sex makes me want to die a little.”

“Totally fair,” Y/N leaned her back into Harry’s chest, smiling as she felt his hand curl tighter around her.

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

The next morning Harry woke Y/N up early, dragging her out of bed still in pajamas to bring her into the garden.

“Harry! It’s like 4am!”

“It’s 6:30, and calm down it’s for good reason.”

He didn’t notice the two figures drinking coffee in the living room and clearly watching the two of them sneak out into the garden.

“Do they think we don’t know or something?” James scoffed, laughing at Harry checking behind him to see if anyone had woken up.

“Oh come on, you remember what we were like, sneaking around the castle thinking that every person and their owl didn’t know that we were making out in broom closets,” Lily smirked at James, giving him a peck on the cheek. James curled his head into Lily’s shoulder, leaning his body against her and putting his legs on the couch.

They watched as the pair outside hopped on broomsticks and hovered up above the garden and watched the skyline.

“He’s bloody watching the sunrise with her,” James shook his head, “I brought up a sappy boyfriend.”

“You know that you’ve done the same thing to me, you prat,” Lily elbowed him, tucking her arms around his shoulders.

“Do you like her?” James asked looking up at Lily.

“I do, actually, didn’t love the last one, she cried too much.”

James turned to face her, gaping.

“You don’t remember her name do you!”

“I mean, I just forgot momentarily-“

“You are the most pedantic person about names, you forgot your sons ex!”

“I’m meant to forget them! It’s important that we never bring her up again.”

“I hate you.” Lily mumbled into James’ hair as he chuckled loudly.

“You love me so much it’s disgusting,” James grinned cheekily up at Lily. There was a loud clanging noise and James sat up quickly, facing the fireplace.

“For god's sake Sirius, you can’t just have to go first – “

“I just wanted to –“

“Can you guys please get out of my fireplace without destroying it.”

Sirius and Remus stepped out of the fireplace pushing each other lightly. Lily stood up to pre-emptively get rid of any soot they may leave on the carpet but the managed to shake it off before they stepped out into the living room.

“We have a problem.”

James was waiting for Y/N and Harry from the back door when they flew back down, grinning widely. Harry’s face darkened when he saw his father and sped up towards the grass.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, we just need to check something out for a bit, but we will be back soon ok.”

“Where are you going,” Harry pushed, staring at James. James gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“You know I’m not going to tell you so that you don’t follow us,” James smiled at him warmly, “But I promise we will send a Patronus with updates.”

“Ok,” Harry muttered, giving James a hug.

“There’s food in the kitchen for breakfast and lunch, and I promise we’ll be home for dinner ok?” he turned to Y/N, “Keep this one out of trouble.”

“I’ll do my best.” Y/N smiled at him and he turned back into the living room.

“Where do you reckon they are going?” Harry watched him disappear behind the door frame.

“Well you know what I’d prefer to think about?”

“Mmm?” Harry was still facing the door, so Y/N stood in front of him.

“We have the house to ourselves.”

Harry’s eyes flicked to hers and he grinned.

“That is in fact correct.”

“So… was there anything you’d like to do?”

In a few minutes Harry had pushed Y/N against a wall and was kissing her passionately. He flicked his tongue inside her mouth and she moaned loudly, running her hands through his hair and grinning as he lifted her up and tucked her legs around his waist. He carried her over to the bed, laying her down and kissing her from where his headfirst met skin at her stomach, leading down towards her thighs. Y/N bit her lip, watching him look up at her with a mischievous smirk curling onto Harry’s face as he pulled down the edge of her pants slowly.

There was a loud Bang! From the window facing outside. Harry jumped, sitting up from his position over Y/N’s legs and leaned to see if he could gauge what had happened from the window.

“I can’t see anything,” He stood up, his figure tense.

“Let’s go check downstairs,” Y/N steered him towards the door, grabbing their wands that were sitting on the night stand. They made their way cautiously down the stairs, moving slowly through the rooms.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Outside,” Harry was already stepping through the doorway and moving out into the yard, crunching onto the snow and towards the back fence.

There was a flash of red light and suddenly Harry was on the ground, unconscious. Y/N’s heart plummeted, feeling like the wind was knocked out of her as she rushed over to him. She held his head in her hands, checking his neck for a pulse only breathing when she felt the familiar beating underneath his skin. She looked around the garden, panic pulsing through her as she searched for the person who did this. Another flash came towards her and she rolled out of the way just in time for it to slam into the back fence, tearing it down onto the alleyway behind the house.

There, standing on the snow-covered concrete was a woman with wild, curly hair and matching eyes, gazing around the house as if she couldn’t quite make it out. It took Y/N a moment to recognise her without the Askaban prisoner clothes, but she felt herself clamp a hand over her face to stop herself from gasping audibly and giving away her position.

“I know you’re in there,” Bellatrix Lestrange cooed to them in a sing-song voice, sneering towards the back garden. Y/N stayed as still as possible, feeling her body freezing up at the sound of her voice. “Ickle Potter, you can’t hide in there forever. I know you don’t have your precious family to help you this time around.”

More footsteps could be heard further down the alley way and Bellatrix turned momentarily to have a look, her lip curling into a wider smile. Y/N’s head was racing. She could run inside and find some way to contact James and Lily or anyone… but that would leave Harry by himself and she wasn’t sure if she could carry him. Are you a witch or not a voice scolded her and she nearly hit herself for forgetting her wand. She pulled it out quickly, trying to be as silent as possible as she muttered Wingardium Leviosa and felt the pull of lifting Harry up, his head flopping awkwardly backwards. She hovered him inside the door, lying him on the carpet softly so that his head was straight.

Her heart was beating fast and she took slow breaths trying to think of the next thing to do. The decision was taken from her however when she heard a loud crash and peered quickly out of the window to see the edges of whatever protection spells the Potters’ had placed around their house dissolving.

Without giving it another thought she pulled out her wand and pointed it towards Bellatrix.

“Expulso!” She cried, watching as parts of the gate that Bellatrix had previously broken blasted backwards and towards the group swarming towards the house, a few of them getting pushed backwards into the wall from the force of the spell.

Bellatrix laughed, a high-pitched cackle that seemed to run through Y/N’s veins and make her shiver. She pulled out her wand, aiming it towards where Y/N’s spell had come from, a green flash hitting inches from her arm. Y/N sucked in a breath moving sideways so she was further away from her range.

“Stupefy,” It hit Bellatrix in the arm and she fell backwards, hitting the concrete hard. Some others turned to help her but she pushed them off.

“Keep going with the protection spells,” She hissed at them, flicking her wand around in her hand and stepping as far forward as she could.

A flash of blue came towards Y/N and she ducked quickly, retaliating quickly. The flashing back and forth of different spells flying across the space between the back garden lit up the trees like Christmas lights, and Y/N could feel her heart beating into her throat, adrenaline coursing through her as she manoeuvred nimbly across the garden.

“Nice one, Y/N” A voice came from behind her as a curse hit Bellatrix square in the chest and Y/N felt her heart lift as she toppled backwards and didn’t get up.

She flung around, her wand still out and pointing towards the large figure who had joined her from the house. Sirius Black had his hands up and was smirking at her. Y/N lowered her wand quickly, apologising.

“Ahh, don’t stress, it’s good practice to keep guard up, you never know who is sneaking up behind you – protego” Sirius flicked his wand in front of Y/N as a curse came rushing towards her.

“Thanks,” Y/N breathed, staring at where the curse had hit.

“Anytime. Now get inside, you’re bleeding pretty bad and we’ve got back up,” he nodded towards the house where a large group of cloaked wizards was piling through the house, some joining them quickly.

“Yeah, yeah ok,” Y/N looked down at her arm, the adrenaline beginning to leave her as she saw the blood dripping down her arm and across her stomach, stumbling backwards slightly and into the house. She moved towards the living room slowly, a painful ache pulling through her as she reached the doorway and pulled herself through.

Lily was standing over the carpet, working on Harry with a large pile of ingredients and a large cauldron. She turned quickly when she heard Y/N’s scattered footsteps.

“Oh my god, are you ok? I mean obviously not, come here sit down,” She hurried over to Y/N and sat her down on the armchair, pulling up her shirt quickly so she could check Y/N’s wounds. “Ok, it doesn’t look like a cursed wound, just a cut, I’ll get some antiseptic and you should be ok.”

Lily slipped out of the room and Y/N felt her body slip down the armchair as her head began to feel dizzy.

“Y/N?” A woozy voice from below her called, and she saw Harry sitting up slowly.

“Harry! Are you ok?”

“I feel like I was runover by a carriage, but otherwise – Merlin are you bleeding?”

“It’s nothing it-“

“Fuck, Mum!” Harry called out loudly, trying to get to her quickly whilst stumbling on his knees. Lily came in holding a bundle of bandages and anaesthetic.

“Are you ok, why are you up?” Lily’s looked incredibly harassed, watching her son crawl across a carpet looking as pale as snow.

“Yes of course, it’s Y/N she’s bleeding through!”

Lily sighed out a breath.

“I know love, I’ve got her covered lie back down.”

Harry obliged, but leant his head against the armchair so that he could reach up and grab Y/N’s hand. Lily worked around them, jumping every few seconds when something exploded outside. Y/N let her hand sit in Harry’s, feeling significantly weaker now that she had sat down and probably lose a significant amount of blood.

Lily finished bandaging Y/N’s side and arm, her wand siphoning the blood from her skin and sealing the wounds together.

“Ok, are you both feeling ok? I need to help outside, but only if you’re ok.”

“Yes mum, go go, we will join you when we feel better.” Harry tried to lift his head up but it lolled back into Y/N’s knees.

“Don’t you dare,” Lily whirled on them, her bright green eyes flashing, “You will not be joining us.”

“Bu-“

“No.” She said firmly, staring down at the two of them. “If there’s one thing I can do its keep you alive.”

She leant down and kissed Harry’s forehead, squeezing Y/N’s uninjured shoulder before leaving the room. The noise from the garden had become a kind of white noise as they sat there, both breathing heavily.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Mmmm,” Y/N sat up so she could look at Harry properly, his messy black hair even messier than usual, green eyes gazing up at her.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know,” Y/N smiled at him, gripping his hand harder, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @gollyderek @maraudersandco @hermione-is-my-queen

#rainandhotchocolate #Harry x reader #Harry potter x reader #jily alive au #harry potter imagine

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

What's Her Name? (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: I’m working really hard on a fairy au right now (go to @goodemornting for updates on that lmao) but in the meantime I wanted to do something different! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Your soulmates name shows up on your arm when you turn 15. Gigi’s only problem is that her’s is in French, and she doesn’t speak a word of it.

Soulmates are a pretty common thing. Realistically they shouldn’t be; even with someone’s name written on your arm, what are the odds you’re going to find them in a sea of seven and a half billion people? Not only is it unlikely, it’s improbable. What if you have a name on your arm like John Smith? How many John Smiths do you have to go through before you can find the “one and only”? Soulmates were romanticized, and frankly unnecessary in Gigi’s humble opinion. She wouldn’t have had the slightest interest in finally finding her own but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t at least have some idea of who their soulmate is. There are a lot of tells, like what language the name is written in, what gender the name is usually assigned to, stuff like that. Probably the biggest reason why so many people in the world have managed to find their soulmates is because they care so much about it. Apparently there’s also like, a gut feeling you get, when you meet them. Like you know for a fact that they’re the one and only. She’d never experienced it herself, but according to the people in her life who had met their soulmates before, there’s just some kind of pull, like on an instinctual level. This subconscious feeling you have that they’re the right person for you. And when the names match up - well, there’s really no way to deny it, at that point.

It’s kind of a sweet notion, in a way. To know someone all your life by a set of letters and then when you finally get to meet them, that they’re the right person, and they’ve been thinking of you too. Gigi was independent sure, career driven and logical, but she would’ve been lying if she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what her soulmate might look like, what perfume they might use, what their favorite band might be. It was drilled into her since she was younger, in her defense, but that yearning feeling that encased every bone in her body whenever she accidentally glanced down at the cursive words delicately engraved on her arm made her wish that she could just find them already, so she could focus on more important things than the love of her life.

The only problem was, that the name imprinted neatly on her arm just happened to not be written in English, but some terrible variation of French.

Truth be told, she’d started studying French ever since google translate had helpfully informed her that’s what language the name was written in. She knows it starts with N, probably ends in L or Y, but her soulmates parents must’ve decided to give their child the most unique spelt name on the planet because the letters every French person had told her that the name possessed didn’t form anything that has much of a ring to it. She really hoped it was a girl’s name, because, well, it would be pretty inconvenient for her if her soulmate was a guy (Considering that she’s, like, a lesbian, and all). But other than that there were absolutely no indicators as to what it could say.

It used to bother her a lot more when she was younger. Being seventeen and knowing absolutely no characteristics of your soulmate is both pretty rare and pretty sad, but it’d never been her primary concern. She had other things to fill her life with, like good friends and family, school, art, overpriced coffee. It was frustrating that she couldn’t read it, but also extremely easy to distract herself from. Besides, having no way of knowing what the her soulmates name was gave her plenty of time and energy to spend helping her friends with their soulmate problems, and there’s plenty of those to go around.

Gigi stirred her tea, poking her tongue out slightly from between her lips. She hated that all the tapioca pearls end up sinking to the bottom, she didn’t want to put the straw in only halfway and get a mouthful of tea, but at the same time she didn’t want to drink all the boba all at once because it’s all pooled at the bottom. There were probably more important things that she could be focusing on right now, but this was a major pet peeve of hers. She cares a whole lot about how her bubble tea is consumed! The tapioca should be dispersed evenly throughout the drink, anything else is a disgrace.

Jan looked between her own two multicolored drinks, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. She was probably trying to decide which one to drink first, but it’s still pretty funny to watch. After Gigi had given up on fiddling around with the tapioca pearls, she sipped her tea and laced her fingers together, leaning forward to look at the blonde closer.

“You could try drinking the one they gave you for free.” She remarked, Jan’s golden brown eyes sliding up to meet hers with a sheepish smile. They’d been best friends since grade school but she still got way too easily embarrassed when Gigi gave her advice, it was pretty stupid. “Since you like the other one more, right?”

“I mean,” Jan pouted again, cocking her head like an upset puppy. “I like taro and lychee evenly, I just wanted lychee this time.”

“Hmm.” Gigi hummed, chewing her lip. “I’m trying to decide if you’re an immediate satisfaction kinda girl or the kind to bide your time. Or you could alternate between the two. Get a good mix of the one you’re in the mood for and the one you’re not in the mood for to keep you going.”

“That’s pretty gross, Gigi.” The older pointed out, wearing a wry smile. “It’s weird that I even have two to begin with.”

“Business as usual for you,” she chided, taking another sip of her single strawberry flavoured tea. Jan was lucky, generally. Gigi didn’t mean that in a jealous way, it was just true, and a little unnerving, at times. The fact that whoever ordered the taro bubble tea had completely took off, prompting the worker to offer it to the blonde, wasn’t even surprising to her at this point. Jan was even lucky in the soulmate department, kinda. The name on her arm was Jacquline Cox, pretty basic, and apparently they’d already met - though Jan hadn’t given her a lot of information about the mystery woman other than something about long dark hair and Persian food.

“It makes me feel awkward,” Jan complained with a sigh. “Who comes to a cafe and orders two boba teas?

“People who are really thirsty, probably.”

“I guess you’re right,” She conceded, but she still looked apprehensive, so Gigi reached across the table and grabbed the taro drink to take a long sip of it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of taro (It’s hard to describe, it’s too earthy for her taste?) but the eyebrow raise from the older woman was funny, so it was worth the slightly unpleasant flavour. “Gigi?”

The brunette glanced up from the tea, watching as Jan’s lip curled up harshly, thinking about her next choice of words. “You said wanted to catch up today?” She asked after a moment, and Gigi buffered briefly before nodding.

“Yeah. It’s so weird not going to the same school.” Gigi smiled sadly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of her cup, “I’m not used to not seeing you every day, but you said the new school is better, right?”

“It’s not much different than the one we went to last year,” Jan shrugged, “But it’s a good school. It’s nice going somewhere where people don’t all remember me from primary.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s how I met Jackie, so I can’t be too mad about it.”

Gigi can’t help being a little bit more attentive after she hears the name, but she’s not very expressive at the best of times, so there probably wasn’t much more than a slight shift in her expression. The shorter woman was pretty good at picking up on that stuff, though, so she wasn’t surprised at the knowing smirk smiling back it her. “You know, you could just ask if you want me to tell you about her.”

Gigi winked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head against her hands. “Tell me then, what’s Miss Jacqueline like?”

“She’s from Iran, transfer student, stupidly funny, super smart, tall,” Jan sounded wistful, smiling serenely. The expression was generally deceiving, but thankfully Gigi had a pretty good idea of how to read her, too. It comes with being best friends for so long. She chewed her boba, waving a hand to encourage the blonde to continue. “I’ve been so happy lately, she really completes me. I don’t think she likes me much yet though.”

Gigi swallowed, narrowing her eyes. “Hmmm, maybe she’s just nervous. Does she have eyes? You’re pretty attractive.” She hesitated, “Probably.”

“Thank you,” Jan giggled, “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, swirling her tea with her straw. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She hinted, rather than say that she’d been waiting on this tea since Jan had first mentioned meeting her soulmate, and that she’d been starved of this kind of thing in her own life so she was more than happy to be hearing about it in her friends.

Gigi had never been good at any of that… romantic stuff, which people often found surprising given how confident she was normally. She didn’t read often, but on the rare occasion that she did, and she got to the romantic part of a book, she felt terribly flustered the whole time through. She had no composure. She’d just have no idea what to say, or what might be tactful to do in any situation. Sure, holding hands and cuddling sounded nice, but beyond that- things like communication, and physical gestures of affection, were intimidating. Not scary, necessarily, or unappealing (because wow Gigi loved to be kissed by g… girls…) but definitely intimidating. A large part of her was worried that when she eventually met her soulmate, she’d embarrass herself with a total lack of expertise in that area. Then again, the whole point of a soulmate is that they’re your one and only, so maybe they’d both be completely unequipped to handle what being a soulmate might entail. In general Gigi was most worried about identifying them, though. Who’s to say that they’d know English? Maybe they don’t know what the name - which was hopefully written nicely since her handwriting could be terrible at times - on their arm says either.

Jan groaned. “She’s so nice to me but she’ll never initiate it? Like if I compliment her she goes along with it otherwise it feels forced?”

Gigi scoffs, picking at her nails, the answer is fairly obvious. “It sounds like she’s doing that thing that people do in the movies.” She dipped her thumb in the puddle of water that’d formed on the table from the drips of condensation dripping off her drink. “What’s it called, playing hard to get?”

“Y’know, that does sound kinda accurate,” Jan smiled, which told Gigi that shes completely right. She’s glad for that, too, because she really just repeated platitudes. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You haven’t told me how you’ve been, recently.”

By the time they’d both finished their bubble teas (as well as the taro one in the middle of the table), they figured it’d be a good time to head home. Gigi begged the shorter woman to keep her posted on the Jackie situation, and Jan swore that she would with a roll of her eyes.

The brunette’s text came in while she was at the mall. When her phone vibrated, she stopped for a second to check the notification. It was Jan, of course, the paragraph of emojis next to her name lighting up Gigi’s lock screen.

The blonde has texted her a picture; she doesn’t recognize the subject of the photo, but she can only assume that it’s the Jackie Cox soulmate woman, or else there’d be no reason for the candid shot. She’s facing away from the camera, looking off into a cityscape, but her head is turned very slightly, and there’s a fond smile practically glowing off of her face. From what Gigi can see, her eyes are a deep wood brown, she’s freakishly tall and probably towers over Jan, and her hair is dark and curled slightly at the tips. She nods sagely, this woman and Jan would look like a cliche Pinterest board aesthetic together. The Persian woman is beaming, which probably means that the two getting along just fine- which is contrary to what Jan had told her so mayb-

Someone (or something? But she’s pretty sure it’s a someone because whatever it is is warm) collides into Gigi’s shoulder, and knocks not only her phone out of her hands, but also her feet out from under her. With an undignified sound, she watches the ground get closer to her, and then blinks in confusion when it suddenly stops roughly a foot away from her face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” it’s a woman’s voice, Gigi thinks, and vaguely accented, but her English sounds pretty okay. When she turns her head she is accutly aware of of pale blonde hair brushing against the woman’s shoulders, the sweet scent of honeysuckle perfume, a Lana Del Rey shirt tightly hugging her chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you alright? Mon dieu, your phone..”

Huh? Gigi followed her line of sight and noticed that her phone was on the floor some ways away. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the blonde woman kneels and lifts it up delicately, wiping it off with the silky red scarf she’s wearing. It’s at that moment that it occurs to her that she’s still being held up by the other girl, and when she’s pulled to her feet, she takes a step back and chews her thumbnail, blinking at the vision before her.

This girl is fairly tall, definitely has an inch or two on Gigi. Her hair is shiny, concealed by a stylish black beret, and her eyes are sharp and seemingly all knowing. She’s remarkably pretty, Gigi’s heart beginning to get that fluttery feeling she gets whenever she makes eye contact with an unfortunately attractive girl her age. She tries to calm it down, though, because she can’t imagine that going all ditzy-highschooler on this girl will help the interaction any. It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I’m fine,” She says quietly, before the blonde girl can begin to fret about her phone. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the walkway on my phone, so it’s my fault, probably.” Gigi wipes down the wrinkles in her shirt, watching relief cross over the girl’s features. She’s looks French, the brunette concedes. Like she stylishly sell you a baguette on the side of the street, and her accent further hints at it. She’s probably around Gigi’s age as well.

“I’m happy that you aren’t mad.” The girl smiles. “But it’s still my fault.” She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Could I make it up to you?” The way she asks it is curious, like she has some sort of other reason for asking, but Gigi holds her tongue. “I was going to this restaurant- pardon me, my name is Nicolette — are you free right now? – Not that you have to be, we could do it later – they make a really good stir-fry.”

For a pretty girl, Nicky stutters more than Gigi would’ve expected. It’s cute, charming almost, and the offer sounds great right about now. “That sounds fine.” She smiles, suddenly forgetting whatever she had come to the mall for because stir fry and French woman definitely sounded like her cup of tea.

“Perfect! I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Nicolette - that’s a long name, maybe she could shorten it to Nicky - remarks thoughtfully, and Gigi realises that she’s a fool.

“Gigi.” She replies, and then adds, “Goode. My name is Gigi Goode.” Inwardly she scolds herself, that introduction could’ve been much smoother. For a minute she thinks she was so weird about it that Nicky has been thoroughly unsettled, but it crosses her mind after a bit of thought that the French woman’s comically widening eyes probably isn’t on account of her stuttering.

“Gigi Goode?” Echoes the girl. “Wait, uhm,” she shakes her head quickly, eyes frantically flicking between her arm and Gigi’s own, which is concealed by her coat sleeve. “Do you-” Nicky fumbled with her shirt, yanking it up with one hand. When Gigi looks down at the girl’s arm, she sees some incredibly familiar letters written, tiny hearts dotting every i. “Do you spell your name with-”

“Yeah. Yeah - yeah I do.“ The brunette interrupts, vision suddenly becoming blurry. She pulls up her own sleeve, feeling like she’s in some kind of a stupor, and holds out her forearm shakily to the taller woman. “Is this your name? I’ve never been able to read it.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That is certainly my name,” Nicky replies, voice high pitched and frantic. “It’s spelt weird, you know, with the q and u and stuff but - merde that’s my name.”

Honestly, Gigi isn’t really capable of thinking clearly right now, but by the sounds of it she might’ve just found her soulma-

She gets knocked off her feet for second time within five minutes. This time, though, Nicky isn’t able to catch her, because though Nicky is again the reason she goes down, the blonde’s arms are occupied by being thrown tightly around Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad to meet you!” The woman bursts out, and the brunette’s face warms at the close proximity. “I came to America to look for you, did you know that? I suppose you wouldn’t, as we’ve never met before, but I- well- I’ve been searching for so long and some days I felt like I would never find you- that is a bit too much information for a first meeting, sorry, - and I’ve knocked you over again too, oh-”

“It’s okay,” Gigi dismisses quickly. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though her face is definitely like a thousand degrees right now. Nicky beams at her, strands of angel blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, and Gigi swallows down a bit of flustered anxiety. Her heart is beating hard, she can hardly hear anything through it’s ringing in her ears, and Nicky can definitely feel it, but it’s not so embarrassing when she realises that the other girl’s heart is beating just as fast. At the same tempo, even, though it might be a bit presumptuous to say as much. She clears her throat a few times, trying to figure out something cool to say. “Uhm, well, how about that stir-fry then?”

Not quite, but close enough, because Nicky’s responding smile feels like a billion dollars.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #nicky doll #gigi x nicky #lesbian au #soulmate au #jankie #fluff #mina #s12

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ajokeformur-ray · 3 years

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Carnival the red-nosed clown // Arthur x Gen // comfort.

Summary: It’s been a long, hard, rough day for Carnival and as he comes home shivering from the cold and feeling utterly horrible during such a wonderful time of year, his sweet wife is there to take care of him; body and soul.💗

A/N: A (very) late Christmas gift for @daincrediblegg (by now it could also double as the first part of your Birthday Bundle from me🎁). I love you so much doll and I hope that you like this!!! Merry fucking Christmas, you Queen!!!! 💗 I and all of your F/Os love you!!!!🎅🎄💖

Word count: 1, 700.

It was during times like this that you wondered if perhaps the universe had a sense of humour, for rarely was it so lazy as to orchestrate coincidences and indeed did many inconveniences and the like show themselves to be good events when the gift of hindsight was bestowed upon one of its charges.

The weather forecast which had played immediately after the final notes of That’s Life, which signalled the end of the latest episode of The Murray Franklin Show, had announced that there was to be a snow storm in the immediate future. Arthur, for his part, had only raised his eyebrows with a small eye roll as he had inhaled greedily on his cigarette. Used was he to inconveniences such as this when he least needed them. The pixels on the screen of the old television which Penny had won in a radio competition eons ago, or so it felt, had crackled every time one of you had walked past, and the fuzziness which graced any exposed slivers of skin seemed only to mirror the same sensation within your own selves, so tried and so tired were the both of you.

The snow storm had been forecasted for the early evening. As it had turned out, the timing had been slightly off, for the first signs of it had begun six hours before they had been predicted. This threw a spanner in the works for you and for Arthur and it had been with a very heavy heart that you had watched Arthur go to work this morning, for you had a rough idea of what his day was going to look like. Loving towards and indeed within Carnival though he was, his clown persona’s outfit offered little in the way of warmth. Those cotton layers were a blessing in the summer, but in the winter was it of great concern. During any time of the year was it hellish for the sweet clown to spin signs and to dance in the streets for hours without reprieve, without even the hint of a break as one jaunty tune turned to another, and another, and another... it was dizzying. Arthur’s favourite gigs to take were the ones at Gotham Central Hospital, though few of them did he receive, hell-bent was Hoyt on torturing Arthur in any conceivable way. Most often did Hoyt give those gigs to Randall, if only to see Arthur’s jaw tick in severe irritation. It wasn’t unusual for people to condemn that which they didn’t comprehend and cruelty was something which Arthur was very much used to. It broke your heart every time you thought upon it.

Today was no exception to Hoyt’s relentless torment and you knew that when Arthur came home, he would be frozen to his core and perhaps even more miserable than he usually was even on his best days. You went about your day as normally as you could, your gut churning as the hours ticked away, marked only by the clock which sat atop the oven. It was visible to you through the built-in hole in the wall, and as the sky darkened and the wind turned icier, nastier, your worry for Arthur only worsened. It was as if the weather was mimicking your mood, and if this had been a moment in a novel then you would have made a noise of approval at the effective use of pathetic fallacy, so appropriate was the current setting to how you were feeling.

As four in the evening came and went, you found yourself staring out of the window anxiously. “Come on, honey,” A bath was prepared for Arthur, he had fluffy pyjamas out ready for him, and you had taken the liberty of loading the worn sofa full of blankets and cushions and pillows so that the two of you could nest together on the sofa while you watched old films. Dinner was also in the oven and, in short, you were doing your absolute best to take care of Arthur even before he was home. “Need you to come home,” Bubby curled around your ankles in search of attention from his favourite human, and you bent down distractedly to give him some much needed and appreciated scritches behind his ears. You knew not if the scritches were needed for you or for Bubby, but nevertheless did the both of you enjoy this small moment together. It was broken by the turn of a slightly wonky key in a rusted lock, but neither of you minded too much, for almost instinctively did you and Bubby turn as one to face the door as it opened. The most ethereal angel came through, harsh yellow light spilling over the threshold like a dropped halo, a fallen angel was he, as Arthur allowed the door to slam shut behind him.

He cursed a soft, “fuck” as he turned back to the door and pulled the chain across. His fingers shook with effort and he frowned in concentration as he tried to force his fingers to move in the very familiar daily ritual. It was difficult but never had Arthur been one to give up and finally, finally, was he home. You got up, your knees creaking in protest, and rushed over to Arthur, your arms encircling him immediately. He was frozen and you could feel his teeth chattering as Arthur pressed himself into you, searching for warmth wherever he could find it. So deprived of it had he been throughout his entire life and yet here you were, the one person who had more warmth within you than Arthur himself knew what to do with.

“Arthur!” A happy chirp sounded within your beautiful clown’s ear and Arthur hummed as cool, stiff lips pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. He could barely speak, he could barely move, and the more your body heat soaked into him, the more Arthur came to be aware of how truly cold he was - everything hurt and he felt frozen in place, his limbs and digits aching. You rubbed your hands up and down his arms as you desperately sought to get some warmth into him. He needed to get into the bath but he could have gone into shock if he got in too soon - bringing one’s core temperature up had to be done gradually, dangerous was it. You couldn’t deny that it was difficult to remain patient when one only wanted to be warm and though you hated the fact that you couldn’t get Arthur warm now, you suspected that the bath water had cooled enough by now to not, at the very least, give Arthur chilblains.

“Hey,” A quiet rasp spoken through chattering teeth sounded almost broken and it wrenched you out of Arthur’s arms. The poor man almost pouted as you pulled away from him, his body somehow feeling even colder now with the ghostly feeling of your arms around his lithe form. Quickly did he grab your hand, loathe was he to be apart from you for a second longer, and with a tender smile did you take the initiative to lead Arthur to the bathroom. This wasn’t the first time that you had gotten him into the bath as soon as he had come home from work, but it was one of the rare times in which you were worried about him getting sick due to the intolerable conditions in which he was forced to work.

You didn’t ask Arthur how his day was. You knew him well enough by now to know that if Arthur wanted to tell you, he would. As it was, Arthur eyed the bathtub incredulously and then looked back at you. “Is this - did you do this? For... for me?” Even after all of this time, even after everything which the two of you had been together, Arthur still had his moments of doubt. You understood it, you understood him, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t shatter your heart anew every time he experienced a black mood.

You frowned at the implication in Arthur’s tone but you didn’t address it, for now wasn’t the right time. “Yeah, darling! We gotta get you warmed up. There’s gonna be a snow storm tonight - “ You chanced a look outside and amended your statement, “There is a snow storm tonight. We don’t want you getting sick!” Bubby came in with a quiet meow by way of greeting his human slaves, and Arthur hurriedly undressed at the thought of warming up - he was frozen to the core. he got into the bath the way one falls asleep - with the dipping of a toe, slowly, slowly... and then all at once with a full bodied sigh of relief. Oh, but this was the stuff from which dreams were made.

“Will you... join me?” Arthur’s words were punctuated with the quiet rustlings of Bubby making a nest out of Arthur’s discarded clothes. His work uniform, such as it was, would need to be washed now, but that was okay. You took such great care of Arthur, and he of you, that often did it leave the two of you almost in tears. Water swirled around his fingertips as Arthur got as much of himself into the bath as he could, wanting to be warm and safe, for if he got sick surely he would be fired and he couldn’t afford that, and the pleading in his sea green eyes made your words die in your throat. How could you ever refuse anything he asked of you?

You couldn’t, you just couldn’t, and so you simply said, “Of course, honey. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Arthur smiled, he smiled, and you felt yourself coming home, too. Home is where the heart is, you’d been told, and so you got into the bath without another word. What was there left to say which couldn’t be better said through the simple touch of two hands interlocked?

If the universe did, indeed, have a sense of humour, then this joke was your favourite and you wanted to hear it every day for the rest of your life.

#egg's birthday bundle #Part 1 of 3

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sup4l3e · 3 years

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I’m Crazy...

I’m insane...

I've lost the plot..

I'm hopeless..

I'm worthless..

I'm unloveable..

I'm pathetic..

I'm weird..

I'm strange..

I'm not okay...

I'm a psycho... (ok this one for me might be true... question it, go on try it! i dare you! ;0 lol)

BUT...

I AM!!!

Those are just some of the things my own mind tells me on a daily basis ... yes here it comes a blog about anxiety and depression... omg!! i know right the cliche of it all. like who hasnt written a blog about depression before ...

oh woe is me! am i right?

well... thats where you're wrong!

(before i start i want no sympathy im not writing this for the "aww's" and the "bless her" comments, i dont want sympathy or empathy ... this is simply because ive experienced and lived with depression for about 14 years and if i can help one person feel better about themselves by reading this or help someone realise that they are not alone then, well, i can rest easy tonight. If anything i want to empower people)

I lived for so many years in the dark, keeping all of this too myself and you know what it did? absolutely sweet FA apart from making me so much worse, it gave ammunition to those little voices, telling me all of the above, making them win!

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago that talking about my experiences and how im feeling would help.

i didnt realise until about 2-3 years ago how many other people around me were going through the EXACT same thing.

Two and a half years ago i was a completely different person, i was sheltered, i was in a very toxic relationship ... with myself. Most people would disagree, they'd say i was actually in a toxic relationship with my ex partner; but i cant blame him. Dont get me wrong he was toxic and looking back i was lucky to get out when i did, however i am also grateful too him, because he showed me exactly what i dont want in my life. and being fair to him i'd lived with my own toxicity in my mind for a good 10 years before him, so god forbid i'd give him the satisfaction of all that praise coz by god did i do a damned good number on myself without any of his help. ;)

In all honestly though, i do blame myself and my own mind, because 2 and a half years ago those little voices in my own head were the only thing i was listening to, they were winning. I wasnt listening to my family who were worried sick about me, who were practically begging me to tell them what was going on in my head, who i shut out, ignored and pushed away because i couldnt cope and you know what? they didnt deserve that at all. i live everyday regretting that i put them through that, So i now live everyday hoping to make them proud of me and live each and everyday with a promise. I do however live every day regretting that i didnt let them in earlier because if i had of i wouldnt have gone through the hell i did and i wouldnt have genuinely believed "this is what i deserve" "no-one else will love you" "no-one else wants you" "no-one cares"... i wouldnt have had too live a LIE.

The lie was people did love me, i just couldnt see it, people did care about me, i just wouldnt hear it, i needed their help, i just wouldnt speak it; because at that point in time my own mind was telling me that i didnt deserve any of that, and that nobody would ever want to do that for me. So i found sactuary in a toxic person who in the long run made me the strong person i am today because if it werent for him i'd never have the confidence in myself knowing what i overcame, and if it werent for him i wouldnt have seen my family and loved ones take charge and say "Leanne enough is enough" .. they gave me the metaphorical slap across the face i damned well needed and brought me back to reality, they categorically wouldnt allow that behaviour to carry on anymore and for that i will forever be grateful!

i made a promise to them that day that i would always tell them when i was getting low again and i made a promise to myself that day that i would keep them in the forefront of my mind in all of my decisions and i would also promise to try and help anyone else who was ever in the same position i was in.

depression is a funny old thing, everyone will experience some form of depression throughout their life, some people are genetically wired to experience it, some people will experience it from a young age, some dont experience it until very late on in life, some experience it from sad/happy/overwhelming life events, some unlucky souls just never find happiness. but no matter what EVERYONE will, at somepoint experience depression. in this blog im going to try and explain how i've learned to manage and cope with mine.

A bit of a backstory of my depression, it started around the age of 14-15, my depression. I dont know where it came from but it was right around the time of my GCSE's, college, boys, hormones, and being diagnosed with PCOS (for those of you who dont know what that is its Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) i was told at a young age of 14 that i had some sort of syndrome which "would only matter when i got older", and that i had some of the prettiest ovaries the sonographer and gyneacologist had ever seen... in hindsight that wasnt going to be the compliment i first thought it was or the dismissive statement they portrayed it and brushed it off as, at all! THAT diagnosis changed alot of my life, however i will get back to that.

As most teens do around here I started studying for my GCSE's at just 15 years old. i was so stressed out i started actually hearing a screaming voice in my head. i suffered panic attacks daily, sometimes a few attacks a day, and that is where my anxiety started and then, good old depression smashed me in the face. i found the more stressed i became, the more id hear that screaming inside my head which then lead me to thinking " holy fucking shitballs im hearing voices im actually insane" therefore leading to more anxiety and panic attacks. so much so i would come home exhausted at 4pm everyday crawl into my pyjamas and climb into bed ready to do it all again the following day. (dont get me wrong i sat most nights on msn using the latest flashing emojis for EACH and EVERY letter of the alphabet, to the point it looked more like hyroglyphics and obviously getting the colours just right with the codes to make your name and status show in a rainbow. but that was all done in pj's curled up in bed because i couldnt manage much else ... however, if my mam asks i was revising and doing my homework THE. WHOLE. TIME, not talking to my friends about how hot a certain crush's bum looked that day ha! am i right! :P xoxo)

This was all a massive thing for me to go through aswell, due to the fact my dad has mental health issues and lives with schizophrenia, so, naturally at this point, you can imagine i was picturing myself in padlocked straight jackets and padded cells, talking away to the screaming voice in my head. the funniest thing was this screaming voice wasnt saying anything nasty or bad it was just my thoughts screaming at me like everything was angry, so genuinely just everyday life thoughts but those screaming at me, like, imagine thinking "leanne dont forget to pack your PE kit" but in the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket... it. was. TERRIFYING!

Anyways, so yes high school was a massive contributor, then i made the choice to leave college at 17 because i, like many others, didnt have the faintest clue what i wanted to be when i grew up (little did i know id live the life of peter pan and neverland would be my sesh house OIOI!!!) In leaving college i went into full time work, as a 'temp job' until i decided what i was going to do... unfortunately, 8 and a half years later i was still their prisoner! haha, Nah, dont get me wrong i met some absolutely amazing people in that job and i did love it but i knew at the end, if i didnt get out it was going to kill me off. I'd gotten to the point in that job that i cried myself to sleep knowing i had to go back in the next day. that place contributed alot to my depression not because it was a bad job but because id made a wrong decision and was stuck there. i had to leave.

my next massive contributor, and this is where i divulge some of my REAL heartbreaks. PCOS - Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome or what i like to call Poly fucking Cystic fucking Ovary fucking Syndrome or "lets just fuck shit up!" (no im not bitter about it at all lol) because of this shit, from the very young age of 14 (like puberty isnt hard enough - spots, hair in places you never wanted boobs growing overnight, bleeding once a month being the biggest inconvenience) i have also had to deal with weight issues, hersuitism, depression, anxiety, hormones that sent me bat shit crazy, pain, headaches, fatigue, you name it i had it. but the biggest heartbreak, being told that id always have difficulty concieving and carrying a child. Anyone who knows me, and knows me well, knows i have always wanted to be a mam. (and not the sesh mam who looks after all my drunken idiotic friends on a night out ... coz i swear thats all they ever think i do lol) I mean a real mam, to a real baby. and being told at a young age that i had the prettiest ovaries the gyneacologist had ever seen wasnt the compliment i thought it was because it turned out my ovaries were absolutely covered in cysts. And for years i have tried to have a baby but alas nothing ever happens. i've had a few close calls and ive miscarried, or at least i think i did, the test came back positive but then about 3 days after that pretty pink second line, i had the heaviest period i had ever had for around 4 hours and then my body went back to normal as if nothing happened. it broke my heart.

They say the human body is delicate and intricate and should be treated with respect... i say its a machine and its a absolute twat at times, and why should i respect what in essence has caused me heartbreak from a young age FOR NO FUCKING REASON. but hey ho... life. goes. on.

so... thats my life story or just a snippet of it. and some of the reasons why i have depression.

heres how i cope...

Well, for a long time.. and i mean a VERY LONG time i didnt. i hid it, i hid away from the world. i drank alot. i avoided family, i avoided my best friends, i avoided anything that would have brought me back to reality.

For a long time though, thats what i needed. now im not saying running away from your issues is easy and thats what you should do because its definitely not. im saying i NEEDED to do it at the time because i had no other way of coping and i NEEDED too to learn what not to do in the future. So masking, for me, was better than facing things 'alone'. In that time though, i made my issues alot worse and in fact caused more issues. it hurt my family, my friends and well hurt myself too, because in the long run i still had to sober up and i still had to deal with the same issues that got me down in the first place, i ended up in debt which contributed further too my issues. I did some very silly things which when i look back on them now i could have hurt so many people. i took an overdose of painkillers at one point around 2 and a half years ago. I felt so weak i saw no other outcome but instantly regretted doing it and made myself sick so that they came back up. i've told my mother and close friends about this previously but i think to really show how much i've learned and to reach out to anyone who is feeling the same way i did, to tell them IT REALLY DOES GET BETTER AND EASIER. i think saying that, shows my honesty throughout this post and allows for my experience and honesty really show that i want to help anyone going through the same thing.

Masking just makes the pain go away for a short period of time. learning from your pain and making it your strength is how you really overcome your own mind and depression.

It wasnt until i realised i was never alone, just how selfish and stupid id been all that time, because in masking, hiding and running away, id stupidly stopped myself from a faster recovery, less heartache, less pain and mental and physical torture. and really i stopped myself from helping others in the same position as me.

it wasnt until i learned to make my pain my strength that i truly found peace in who i am.

i still have days where those voices wont shut up, and they win and thats ok.

i still have days where i cannot climb out of bed and thats ok.

i still have days where i cry and the pain is too much and thats ok.

because i learned all of it really is ok! everyone has those same thoughts the same feelings the same illnesses. and i know that tomorrow WILL be a better day.

you just need to learn how to make it and own it as your own!

nothing has changed for me, all of those things are still true they're still real, my body hasnt miraculously healed itself, i still made poor life choices, it hasnt changed my hormonal imbalances but it has changed my mindset. it has changed my life. i made a choice to change my mindset and not let it beat me i decided to let people in. my family are my guardian angels because they never gave up on me, they dragged it out of me and frogmarched me to the doctors for the help i needed but some people dont have that support in their lives.

i'm lucky enough now, to have lived with this for long enough to know my signs, and when i know what i call, "going dark" is coming. basically when i start slipping and losing control of it again, i identify it and know how to manage it head on. unfortunately my body because of the stupid "intricate machine" i have and how broken it is (believe me the day i can swap out into an AI robot body imma sign straight up for that shit imma have me a body like Jennifer Anniston) my body however tends to go into a meltdown, i end up with more migraines, pain and infections. i also get extremely tired to the point i can sleep for a good 15-20 hours a day and thats not me being lazy (although if sleeping were an olympic sport i'd be the universal champion of it BED=LIFE) thats really me needing to reset. at that point in time when i know this is coming, thats when i reach out; i tell my friends and my family "I'm not okay" because i know now i can do that, i can talk to them.

i, personally, take medication daily, and for some reason we live in a society where people are actually shamed for doing so. i know if i dont take those 2 little tablets every day i will lose control and become a shell of who i really am. my seratonin levels drop and i practically become a robot barely functioning. so why should i be ashamed of those 2 little 'happy pills' which make me the person i want to be and know i truly am! no chemical imbalance is going to get the better of me! if i can have the help, im damned sure going to take it. along with the happy pills, aswell as alot of sleep, sunbeds, spending time with family and friends whenever i possibly can, i now have a job that i love, i also retrained as a beautician, and i love going to the gym and swimming whenever i can, ive found i can manage mine alot better. one thing that massively changed my life was limitting when i drink. i rarely go out drinking anymore and the reason is because i know deep down i will end up in a very low state afterwards. alcohol is a depressant and i wont allow that kind of thing to get me down. so now instead i choose to drink once a month if not less. i havent cut out the drink completely i just know if i want to get blinding drunk i need to be in a very happy place to do so. so i am careful where i drink, who i drink with and what i do whilst im drinking and unfortunately much to my neighbours disgust that tends to be in the house whilst singing along to whitney houston or disney songs at the top of my lungs, but thats how i know i'll not plummet the day after, and lets face it anyone whose heard me singing knows whitney had nothing on me ;)

In all seriousness though, the best advice i can give anyone living with depression is talk to someone, talk to your family, talk to your neighbour, talk to your friends, talk to your doctor, talk to your dog, your cat, the postman, the man on the bus who sits oddly close too you... just talk to anyone. tell them how you are feeling tell them your experiences. tell them what is getting to you. Find someone who you can trust, find a stranger. write it all down in a blog. video it. GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST! SAY IT OUT LOUD! Just. Bloody. Talk! please!

everyones experiences with depression are different some people mask it, some people show it, some people (like me now) shout it from the fucking rooftops because im not afraid of my emotions anymore.

everyones ways of coping are different too, some people find the gym helps, some rely on medication, some rely on talking therapies... there are so many different ways of coping out there now... the only way that doesnt work is not admitting something is wrong and fighting your own mind without help, knowing something isnt right but still doing nothing about it. The only way of not coping is living a lie, you dont have to do this alone!

Basically do those things just for you, the ones you've always wanted to do! get that tattoo you wanted, quit your job, retrain, change your hair colour, buy that car, buy that dog, book that holiday.

do what makes YOU happy!

live for you and open up, people would rather know how you are feeling than see you struggle or ultimately not be here.

open up you never know someone might be feeling the exact same way you are and it could bring you closer.

but remember most importantly:

You ARE NOT Alone..

You ARE NOT Crazy..

You ARE NOT insane..

You HAVE NOT lost the plot..

You ARE NOT hopeless..

You ARE NOT worthless..

You ARE NOT unloveable..

You ARE NOT pathetic..

You ARE NOT weird..

You ARE NOT a psycho..

You ARE NOT strange..

And..

You ARE okay...

You ARE Beautiful..

You ARE Worth it..

YOU ARE Loved

i hope this helps...

thank you ☺

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tamorasky · 4 years

Text

Mistress Anna Chapter 5

Rating: M

Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for the women to be eventually cast aside, Anna was just naive enough to believe it would never happen to her.

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff, Anna/Hans (ew)

Words: 3600

Canadian Frontier Au.

Ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

It was early in the season when Anna became certain she preferred the winter in Ahtohallan. In Arendelle the snow was always dirty with mud and excrement, not like in the country where it was pure white and soft to fall in.

She watches the snowfall through the window in the sitting room, her arms resting on the back of the sofa with a smile as flakes fall onto the veranda. Grimm’s Fairy Tales lay abandoned next to her as she carefully watches the fourth snowfall of the winter.

Anna twists her body on the sofa as she hears the front door open, she furrows her eyebrows at the sound of her country husband’s voice; he never came home early from work. Pulling the book back onto her lap Anna watches as Hans strides into the study, Frederic and Erik both following close behind him.

Hans was clearly angry, his jaw clenches tightly as he stares at the two men. “He has cost the company hundreds already in the span of 3 months. Tell me how that happened.” The auburn-haired man demands.

The two brunette men look at each other before staring at their boss, Erik clears his throat. “We…don't know sir. It seems he started in Quebec, traded illegally into the United States and must’ve crossed into Rupert’s land through the Unorganized territories.”

“I don’t care how he got here.” Hans snarls, startling Anna as he slams his fists on his desk. “I want his head on a pike, do you understand? Men like him are a scourge on our society and need to be dealt with.”

Anna’s heart races as she watches the scene before her, she had never seen Hans so angry before. She thinks momentarily about slipping out of the sitting room quietly so that he might not hear her and never know she was there.

Quietly she stands from the sofa, hoping none of the men would notice the movement of purples and whites of her dress. Anna watches the men as she silently stalks through the room, her throat constricting as piercing green eyes meet hers.

Hans sighs as he smooths his dishevelled hair back, straightening his posture and his suit jacket. “Anna, what are you doing there?”

“I was just reading. B-but I was just leaving to give you men some privacy.” She explains, playing with the first flounce of her skirt nervously. Hans smiles, coming around the oak desk to make his way towards his country wife.

He cups Anna’s cheeks as she peers up at him. “No need my pet, Erik and Fredric were just leaving.” He presses his lips to hers briefly, shooting a glare at his two subordinates to indicate for them to leave. Frederic and Erik comply with Hans’ silent demand, leaving the house without another word.

Anna does her best not to stare at the men, especially Frederic who had always made her uncomfortable and made pointed remarks about her mixed-race heritage.

“Are you done work for the day?” Anna inquires, running her hands over the lapels of his jacket.

“It would seem so.” His hands come to circle around her waist as the young woman in front of his fusses over his clothing. At his response, Anna’s beams at him as her hands come to rest on his shoulders. “You’re no longer feeling ill?”

Anna shakes her head in response, recalling the last few weeks of feeling ill in the morning. She had been able to hide it from Hans until this morning when he walked into the room as she was throwing up. “No, I’m fine now.”

“Good, I can’t have my pretty little lover being ill, can I?” He asks pressing a kiss to her forehead as he withdraws from her. Anna’s heart drops when he makes his way back to his desk, sitting at it. She holds her hands behind her back as she saunters over to his desk, draping herself over his shoulders as she kisses along his neck.

“Hans.” She purrs as she runs her fingers through his auburn hair. “You’ve been working all day.”

“Anna…” He warns, removing her hands from his body. “Don’t be greedy now, it’s unflattering to act like an insolent child.” The young woman withdraws from him, folding her hands in front of her and looking to the ground as if she was a child being scolded by their parent.

With a sigh Anna walks back into the sitting room, taking her place on the sofa to resume reading. She stares over her book at Hans, watching him work. She never seemed to know what he wanted from her, he only ever touched her tenderly when there were others present and only made love to her at night.

She had known that European men typically only engaged in intercourse at night in their marital beds she but had hoped for more from Hans. Anna didn’t understand what the fuss around sex; when Angelique had gotten married many of the women in Ahtohallan teased her about the number of activities she and her husband, Gabriel engaged in during the day.

Since their first night together Hans was gentle in bed, Anna didn’t mind giving herself to him it was her duty to him as his country wife; it didn’t inconvenience her in any way. She knew it was necessary for a successful partnership to thrive.

Anna closes her eyes as she feels herself become nauseated for what seemed to be the 100th time that day. Letting out slow breathes to control the uncomfortable feeling building in the stomach.

“Anna, do you mind keeping it down?” Hans calls from the study as he briefly glimpses at the young woman. Anna nods, standing from the couch.

“I’m going to have a laydown.” She carries the fairy tale book with her out of the room, walking into the foyers encountering Hilde. “Oh, Hilde. Can you bring some peppermint tea to me and Mr. Westergaard’s room?”

“I’ll do that as soon as I find a moment.” The stern woman replies before stalking into the kitchen. Anna slowly makes her way to her room, sticking close to the walls to maintain her balance.

She closes the door behind her, placing the book on her vanity as she goes to sit on the edge of her bed. Clutching the mattress as her stomach turns, she lays down across the bed placing her hands over her belly as she controls her breathing.

Hilde enters the room without knocking, placing the tea tray on the side table next to the bed. The raven-haired woman stares at Anna, laying on the bed clearly trying to stop herself from vomiting.

“What’s the matter with you then?”

“I don’t feel well,” Anna whispers as she closes her eyes. Hilde clears her throat staring at the young woman sternly.

“I’ll send for Doctor Perkins, I can’t have ya getting the whole house sick.” Anna nods at the older woman’s statement, not being able to bare this any longer, she wouldn’t be able to hide this from Hans for much longer. Hilde leaves the room without another word, slamming the door behind her.

She excepts Hans to come to check on her, but he never does. Unsure if Hilde would have bothered to actually tell him about her condition; the older Scottish woman clearly despised her and felt her presence was a burden to everyone in the house.

Sitting up as she hears a knock echo throughout her room, Anna was starting to feel slightly better from her bought of nausea.

“Come in.” She calls. The door opens to reveal Hilde and a shorter grey-haired man who enters the room.

“Mistress Anna?” The man asks, peering at the girl over his round-rimmed glasses. “I’m Doctor Perkins, I’ll be examining you this evening.”

Anna nods, looking at the maid before her. “Hilde you can go.” The older woman nods, closing the door behind her as she leaves.

“Now, what seems to be the problem.” Doctor Perkins asks, placing his medical bag on her vanity.

“I’ve been experiencing illness in the mornings for nearly 2 months now, just recently I’ve been nauseous throughout the day,” Anna states, fiddling with the end of the woollen blanket under her.

“Have you noticed any changes in your weight?” He turns to her, raising an eyebrow at the young girl. She stares at him, shocked by his blunt question regarding her weight.

“I mean…a little bit,” Anna admits. “I mean it must be because I’m not used to Hilde’s cooking.”

“Well if you were truly ill, it would be more constant. Mistress Anna, may I ask a very personal question?” He closes his bag, causing her to furrow her brows.

“S-sure.” She stutters, afraid of what he was going to ask of her.

“When was the last time you had your monthly?” The balding man asks. Anna looks to the ceiling; he was right it was a rather personal question. She begins to think back for these last few months, trying to think about the last time she had bled.

“I think it was in…October. But I’ve been very overwhelmed with my relocation here and adjusting to this new life.”

“Mistress Anna, I have good reason to believe that you are carrying Mr. Westergaard’s child.” Anna’s ears ring as he tells her the news; she hadn’t even thought to take precautions against pregnancy. Sniffling she looks down at the skirt of her dress.

“T-thank for telling me. Are we done?”

“We are. Good day Mistress Anna.” The older man regards the young woman for a moment before leaving the room without another word.

A baby. Their baby. Placing a hand over her lower abdomen Anna smiles, tears welling up in her eyes as she processes the news.

She had always assumed they would have children later; in her experience, it often took months for women to conceive. It was nearly a year into Angelique and Gabriel’s marriage when Kristoff’s sister finally fell pregnant.

Anna stands from the bed, racing over to the mirror next to her armoire; smoothing the cotton of her dress over her body trying to see if there might be any noticeable difference in her body, but there wasn’t. She runs her hands over her abdomen, nonetheless, knowing she was carrying her child.

“Taanishi.” She greets her baby as she stares down at herself. Anna bites her lip as she giggles, tears rolling down her cheeks. Meandering back towards the bed she sits back on the edge, wiping her tears away as she composes herself.

She’s excited to write to her mother about the news, hoping she might be able to return to Ahtohallan for the birth. Knowing it was pointless to write Elsa, for the last five months all of Anna’s letters to her sister went unanswered. But her mother would write back quickly, especially regarding the news of Iduna’s impending grandchild.

With a deep breath, she manages to compose her emotions but decides to tell Hans after dinner and when he was done work. He was overwhelmed as it was with the independent fur trader who was disrupting the company’s operation.

She props her pillow up against the headboard, swinging her feet onto the bed Anna lays down on the bed. Resting her hands against her abdomen again, Anna begins to hum softly as her thumb brushes against the fabric of her dress.

Hilde knocks on the door when it comes time for dinner, yelling through the door at the young woman. Anna can’t bring herself to care about the way Hilde spoke to her, she was so happy at the moment.

She manages to keep the news to herself throughout dinner, it was easy between trying to eat Hilde’s chewy beef stew and Hans muttering about work. After dinner Hans suggests the two of them retire to the sitting room, she readily agrees to at her lover’s suggestion.

Anna sits on the sofa staring at Hans as he peruses his library, trying to decide what he would read for the evening. The sewing on her lap discarded as she ponders how she would tell him about the baby.

“Why did Hilde call on Doctor Perkins today?” He inquires as he picks out a book, flipping through the pages of the book. Anna watches him carefully as he comes to sit in the armchair across from her. Hans places the book on his lap, staring thoughtfully at his young country wife.

“I wasn’t feeling well today. Hilde called Doctor Perkins to make sure I was in perfect health.”

“And? What did he have to say?” He folds his hands in front of him, crossing his legs. Anna takes a deep breath, placing her sewing beside her on the sofa.

“W-well. He said I’m in perfect health.” Her heart swells as she sees him sigh in relief at the declaration. “But he gave me the reason why I’ve been feeling unwell.”

Hans physically stiffens at this statement, cocking his head slightly as he narrows his eyes at her. “What reason is that?”

“I’m…” Anna can’t stop herself from smiling as she prepares to tell him. “Hans…I’m with child.” Hans stares at her for a few moments, his expression unreadable. Swiftly he stands, the book on his lap falling to the ground with a loud thud.

He paces towards the bookshelves and then back across the room, his hands folded behind his back. Anna’s smile disappears the longer he remains silent and paces throughout the room. She opens her mouth to say something, only for him to stop and hold a finger up towards her.

“Don’t.” He says, balling his fist in the air. “Don’t speak…how could you Anna?” his voice was quiet in nearly a whisper as Hans finally looks at her. Her stomach turns again as he stares at her broodingly.

“Well…” Anna falters before he raises his finger at her again.

“I told you not to speak.” He hisses as he takes two steps towards her. His action causes the young woman to shrink into the sofa, pressing her lips into a thin line to keep herself silent. Hans collapses in the armchair again, tapping his finger against his knee. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”

Anna remains silent, staring to the ground as she feels shame overtake her. She wasn’t sure she actually understood the severity of the situation. She didn’t understand why Hans wasn’t happy to hear about her pregnancy either.

“I thought you’d be happy.” She manages, her voice breaking still unable to make eye contact with him.

“Happy? Do you know what people will say, Anna?” He questions, his jaw setting as he scrutinizes her. Anna finally looks up at Hans, contemplating for a moment to argue with him. But when she meets his furious gaze, his emerald eyes baring into her own the young woman finds herself looking back to the ground

“I-I’m sorry.” She manages, trying her best to mask her sadness. She plays with the flounce of her skirt, her lower lip trembling unwillingly as she attempts to stop tears from falling.

“Now I have to deal with your mess.” Hans huffs, standing from the armchair to march into his study. Anna wipes her wet cheeks as she stands, leaving the connecting room swiftly for the safety of their bedroom.

Anna ascends the staircase, walking down the hall to their room. As she reaches for the knob she stops, her hand hovering over the brass. Withdrawing her hand Anna takes a step away from the mahogany door, she couldn’t go into there. Instead, the young woman enters the second bedroom on the right.

This was always Anna’s favourite room, since arriving at Hans’ home she had always referred to this room as the “blue room”. This wasn’t because the room was painted blue, the sheets were always blue but that wasn’t the reason either. The window of the room had a perfect view of the sky, it perfectly showed the various gradients of colour in the sky during the day.

Staring out the window Anna comes to sit on the far side of the bed, closest to the window. She lies down facing towards the window, her tears falling down her temple and the bridge of her nose silently.

She was devastated that Hans wasn’t pleased about the baby, but she was worried about what he’d make her do. Anna wonders if Hans might send the baby to her mother’s once it was born, she knew it happened. Of course, it wouldn’t be the worst thing for her child to be raised by her mother, the baby would grow up in Ahtohallan and be raised Metis as she was.

Anna rests her hand over her abdomen, stroking her fingers against where she assumed her child was. She could go visit the baby in Ahtohallan whenever she wanted, Hans couldn’t deny her that right.

She is unsure how long she lays in the bed, waiting for sleep to take her but it never does. Staring out into the darkness of the night as her heart breaks knowing that she may be separated from her baby.

A terrifying thought crosses her mind, the idea that Hans might give their baby away to a white family. These things were never discussed among the women, it was only rumours about how missionaries or white family members took babies from their Metis or Indian mothers and sold them to white families for the child to grow up ‘civilized’.

She didn’t want that for her child, she wanted her child to grow up knowing about the heritage Anna grew up with. Not to be educated in a boarding or missionary school in Canada East or West. She would take her child away from this place before she’d allow that to happen.

Hearing footsteps down the hallway Anna draws her knees and arms to her body, bowing her head as he curves her back when she hears someone open the blue room’s door. His sigh echoes through the room as he makes his way to the bed.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the side of the bed, causing Anna’s body to fall slightly to the middle of the bed. She flinches as Hans rests a hand on her waist, pulling her to him as he presses himself against her.

The couple remains quiet as Hans holds her. Feeling comfortable at the sudden act of affection from her partner Anna slowly uncurls herself from her form; straightening her back so her body perfectly aligned with his. Hans presses a kiss to the back of her neck.

“Come to bed.” He finally says, playing with the ends of her auburn hair. Anna sniffles nuzzling her head against the pillow. “Anna, my dear. I apologize for my words; you have to understand what people will say about you. I care about you so much; do you love me?”

Anna turns to face him, not caring about the tears still falling from the corner of her eyes. “I love you, Hans.” He smiles at her declaration, cupping her cheek and stroking his thumb against her cheekbone. “Are you still upset about the baby?”

He sighs his thumb stilling as he shakes his head in response. Anna feels as if a weight has been lifted from her chest at his answer. “You have to understand my pet my mind’s been preoccupied with this criminal. But of course, I’m happy to hear you're carrying my son.”

Anna nearly expects him to touch her belly, but he doesn’t instead his hand remains on her cheek. She smiles sweetly at him. “It could be a girl.”

Hans chuckles at this, removing his hand from her to sit on the edge of the bed. “The Westergaard’s are not known for producing girls. Come to bed.” He stands from the bed. Anna stands from the bed, taking her lover’s hand in her own as he leads them to their bedroom.

The young man closes the door behind Anna as she reaches behind her back to attempt to unbutton the back of her dress. She frees herself from the garment allowing it to fall to a pile on the floor and strips herself bare. She grabs her nightgown off the bed, shivering while she shrugs it on as the cold cotton touches her skin.

Throwing the blankets back Anna crawls into bed, the familiar sheets feeling nice against her skin as her nightgown slides up her legs as she settles. The young woman falls into her usual position her back facing away from Hans’ side of the bed while Hans extinguishes the candle on the bedside table. Her breath hitches in surprise when he pulls her body against his, his arm resting over her waist.

Hans never held her at night, always citing that he was unable to sleep touching another person as he overheats easily. “Good night Anna.” He presses a kiss to the back of her neck before steadying his breath.

“Goodnight my love.” She responds, closing her eyes as she rests her hand against her abdomen again a smile coming to her face. Anna knew she was fortunate she had a partner who loved her, and in a short nine months, they were going to have a baby.

#kristanna #kristoff bjorgman #anna of arendelle #frozen #frozen 2 #Canadian Frontier Au #Fur Trade au #fanfic

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elliemarchetti · 4 years

Text

Holiday Inconveniences

@redqueenetwork 03 | happy holidays!

Warning: NSFW

Words: 3462

Numerous neon signs hung on the walls, illuminating the bottles of liquor behind the counter, sadly reminding her of how far away she was from home, where she would never have sat at the counter alone but at her usual table, along with her siblings and her best friend. It’s not long and you’ll be there, she told herself, taking a long sip from the bottle of cold beer, and it really was like that, but the thought wasn’t enough to make her feel less alone. Since Ann, her roommate, had left to go home to her family three days ago, the dormitory, where she hadn’t made friends with anyone else, partly thanks to her temper, partly because she shared all the courses with Ann, so she didn’t really needed another friend, had become an unsustainable place for Mare, so here she was, in a cheap bar not too far from the campus, but not too close either, to avoid making unpleasant encounters, trying to get drunk. There were still two days to spare and then the boy her mother contacted to share the car with her would pick her up and left her directly in her house’s driveway. He was the son of an old friend, or so her mother had said, but Mare hadn’t paid too much attention to her when she called, concentrating on helping Ann to choose which clothes would be good to take with her for the first holidays together with her boyfriend, a guy who was studying in another college south, though she couldn’t remember which.

“I won’t give you another one, honey, so try to enjoy it.” the waiter said without even looking up, continuing to clean the counter. Mare didn’t reply, he had already risked enough to give her a few drinks even though it was evident that she wasn’t yet twenty-one, it was understandable that he didn’t want to risk it further by letting her go out completely drunk. In order to avoid any kind of discussion, or supplication, given that the place seemed a lot like the classic one where customers desperately implored the bartender to have “only one more”, the man served the only other customer at the desk that Monday night, or that Tuesday morning, based on point of views, a plump middle-aged woman with red and swollen eyes that only confirmed Mare’s theory. At the same moment the door swung open and a guy, a little older than her, probably already in his first year at university, entered and sat down two stools away, loosening his tie and undoing the first button of a perfectly pressed white Oxford shirt. Where did he think he was, in some fancy place downtown?

“You really are very young to find yourself in such a place.” the stranger commented, evidently speaking to her.

“What do you mean with such a place?” the waiter asked, falsely offended, but the boy ignored him. They had to know each other well because the comment snatched a smile from the young man.

“I’m not young,” Mare replied, “only minute.”

“So you drink cheap beer because you miss the old days or because of lack of taste?” he asked.

Mare rolled her eyes and finally decided to look more closely at him. He was as beautiful as the California weather and couldn’t have been more different from Kilorn, her best friend, for whom she still had to decide whether or not she had a crush on. He certainly had one for her, even though he didn’t really call it a crush when he declared his love before she left for college, a couple months before, but that wasn’t the right time to think about it, not with that Greek god with bright bronze eyes that stood out on the tanned skin, in front her. Someone of this kind could’ve instilled in the average male a certain fear, but she didn’t have the feeling that he was dangerous, even though she was renowned for not having particular judgment when she drank and it was confirmed by the abundance of stories her siblings told each year when they all met for the holidays.

“Because I have no money to throw in alcohol.” she replied coldly, glancing at the glass of an expensive-looking liquor that the bartender had served him without even needing to ask. So those two didn’t just know each other but he was a regular customer.

“Do you live here?”

Mare looked at him sideways. She didn’t like the question, but her interlocutor seemed to understand, so he reformulated: “Jesus Christ, girl, where are you from? Because it’s obvious that you weren’t born here.”

“Chicago.”

“And what’s your name?”

“I’m not interested.”

“What a ugly name!” he exclaimed. “It looks like the name of someone who is running away from a man and isn’t interested in having another one.”

This time Mare looked at him bluntly. He was handsome but also presumptuous, despite having seen it right, or at least in part. She was in town because she went to college there but she was in that bar because Ann wasn’t there to help her tidy up her messy mind. What if she had returned home and Kilorn hadn’t waited for her as he had promised to do? After all, it had been almost four months since they last talked, and Mare hadn’t shown signs of returning his feelings. But yet… Yet she knew what Ann would’ve told her if she had been here: there was an attractive stranger to get distracted with for a night, why bother when she could postpone the analysis of the problem? Maybe the experience would help her understand. So she didn’t tell him she wasn’t interested in a one-night stand and answered his subsequent questions in a much more exhaustive way.

“Do you want to go?” he asked, and when she nodded he paid for both her last beer and his glass of liquor with a large banknote, leaving the bartender a huge tip, leading her to the conclusion he must also be rich. In any other situation, Mare would’ve hated him and anyone at home would’ve kicked her for even thinking about spending the night with him, but she wasn’t at home and her siblings didn’t have to know, so she let him open the door for her and take her hand on the sidewalk. He was much taller than her and being so close to him gave the feeling of being seated in the cinema’s front row, so much so that she had to lift her chin to look into his eyes and challenge him to kiss her. He immediately caught on and what began as a tender, hesitant kiss became romantic and passionate, with their lips moving in harmony. Mare felt something she had never felt before, like a jolt all over her body, and when they separated they turned the corner quickly, and then crossed the street as soon as the traffic lights turned green. They entered a large building and walked up a flight of stairs before finding themselves at the right door. Mare glanced at the label on the bell, which said T. Calore, and an instant later they were inside, thanks to the stranger who suddenly pulled her to him, squeezing her hips as he needed her. It was a wonderful feeling, something she believed to exist only in movies, but she forgot that too as his silky soft lips found her neck. With expert and decisive action he covered her with tiny kisses up to the jaw, passing then to the ear and going back down to the collarbone. He seemed to implore her to get closer and despite the same irrational impulse, the delicacy with which he acted kept triggering strange shivers that radiated from her shoulder throughout her body. The apartment was warm enough not to miss the jacket, which she freed herself of by throwing it on the ground, helped by her new lover, and they both nearly fell while he took off his black leather boots. When their lips came together again, she more than willingly let his tongue touch hers as she clasped her hands behind his neck. He took off his shirt and Mare found herself in front of a sculptural chest, the result of a perfect combination of genes and years of training. She touched his muscles and his sculpted abdomen, then put her hand on the button of his trousers and with the other touched the enormous erection. The dry sound of the zip gave her a shudder between her thighs: she craved the desire to be caressed and sank her fingers into his arms as he kissed her shoulders and breasts, pulling her jeans off. He admired her for a moment, a sexy disaster with her hair ruffled, her shirt half-unbuttoned and, incredibly, no pants. Her siblings had always praised the benefits of one-night stands and that young man, who lifted her by putting her legs around his waist like he was used to it, seemed the ideal candidate to experience them. He kissed her until he laid her gently on the sofa’s pillows: “Comfortable?” he asked, almost murmuring. When Mare nodded he gave her a kiss and took a square sachet from his wallet, which he tore with his teeth. He lowered his trousers and underwear enough to unroll the thin latex easily and quickly, only to return to devote his attention to her. He kissed her again, as if the wait had killed him, holding his breath while trying desperately to prolong the crazy, senseless, irresponsible and stupendous ride. He pressed one hand on a pillow while with the other he held her knee against her shoulder. Mare had white knuckles from how hard she was clinging to the sofa cover and every time he entered her, making her feeling that fantastic wave of pain that spread throughout her body, she tightened stronger, regardless of the fact that the fabric could break or be ruined: with all the money he seemed to have, he could easily have bought a new one. The house owner brought his mouth closer to her and Mare was instantly lost thinking how passionate and at the same time soft and extraordinary his lips were, with every touch of his tongue studied, experienced, designed to give her pleasure. As he continued relentlessly, he grabbed her thigh and with one hand opened her legs more, then with the other touched her delicate skin in the middle. Afterwards she screamed, raising her hips to meet his own, and squeezed his waist with trembling knees. He leaned down and touched her lips with his as she moaned, smiling, satisfied with the girl’s reaction. He continued to move slowly, giving her tender kisses, until he lost all control, contracting his muscles and penetrating her again with more force; now that he had made her reach orgasm, he concentrated only on himself and the thrusts became ponderous, inexorable. His moan sounded muffled against her lips, now dry from too many kisses. He lay down beside her and Mare closed her eyes for only a second, but when she opened them again it was because of the nearly white light that penetrated from the large French window.

“Good morning ‘I’m not interested’” he said, making fun of her line from the night before, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning Mr. Calore. T. What is it for? Thomas? Timothy?” she tried to guess, but he corrected her - it was Tiberias - and sat up again. Neither of them could say they slept badly, but the night on the couch hadn’t been a blessing for the already aching muscles and she began to feel cold and the embarrassed.

“Pretentious name.” she commented as he pulled his pants back on, heedless of the morning erection he had to be used to. Having three siblings, it was certainly not a source of embarrassment, but she imagined that many other girls had somehow been annoyed or put in awe of the thing, so she didn’t bother to tell him that as much as she cared he could even walk around naked. Another merit of growing up surrounded by male: no one expects a useless sense of decency and they are the ones who are embarrassed in front of the female bodies and not the other way around, something that had given many advantages both to her and Gisa. With this guy, however, it was different and she thanked that fortunately the shirt and cardigan she wore were long enough to cover her private parts.

“Your parents were obsessed with Latin or something? No, wait, they studied classical literature.” she ventured, hoping that filling the silence with chatter was enough to dispel the tremendous feeling that tightened her stomach. She didn’t really felt guilty, but she certainly didn’t know how to get rid of that sexy mess.

“It’s Tiberias, with an e, not Tiberius, and it’s also my father and grandfather’s name.” he explained.

“Are you noble? Wait, I know, you’re English immigrants!”

Tiberias smiled guiltily, proving her right.

“Well, Tiberias, thanks for a fantastic and unexpected end of a shit Monday, but now I really have to go, I have to pack my bags as I leave tomorrow to spend the holidays with my family.”

"Don’t you stop even for breakfast? A shower?” he ventured, watching her. She had to be a disaster even more than the night before, her hair uncombed, her clothes wrinkled, her makeup smudged and her face swollen so she didn’t object, and determined not to be part of that hateful group of people who got on the bus without first showering, she agreed. He showed her the bathroom, that was as beautiful as the rest of the house, white and dove gray tiled, with a huge shower and a tub for two, with a headrest on each side, matching the rest. Everything in that house seemed almost unused, as if no one lived there. She imagined that this was the case most of the time. Once left alone the smell of musk and cleanliness was no longer as enticing as it had seemed the night before and the perfectionism had lost much of its charm, but reminded herself she didn’t have to like it because, once she took advantage of the abundant breakfast he would’ve surely provided, she would go back to her messy room and leaving behind a beautiful experience.

“I’ll leave you some clean clothes outside the door. That’s all I can provide that can someway fit.” Tiberias told her in a low voice over the wood that separated them. Mare didn’t answer but smiled at the idea. The trousers, although they had spent the night on the floor, were safe, but she could hardly say the same thing about the shirt and the cardigan. Intrigued, she went to see what he had brought her, revealing an old black t-shirt with a slightly baggy collar and a simple cashmere sweater of the same color. Did he really trust her with that stuff? The sweater seemed pricy and after all, she was pretty sure she would never see him again. Maybe he thought she would give them back. Perhaps he would use them as an excuse to see her again, even if he didn’t seem so banal. Anyway, she kept thinking about it under the boiling water, which filled the whole room with steam, and while drying her hair with a decidedly new and expensive-looking black hair dryer. Without her products the result was a bit frizzy, and without make-up the not-so-healthy complexion and deep shadows under her eyes were evident, but she imagined that it would play in her favor when it was time to leave, which she no longer wanted to do once she smelled hot bagels from the kitchen.

“I hope you like cheese because I have nothing else to fill them with. And no coffee or tea, only orange juice.” he said apologetically, as if it wasn’t the best breakfast she’d eaten in four months. They sat at the table, and despite the silence her host seemed incredibly cheerful, but Mare blamed it for the previous night.

“Where do you study? Because it’s pretty evident that you’re a student.” he asked out of the blue, between bites, leaving her speechless. Were they chatter without a purpose, those? After all the silence? Or thought… She should’ve told him, she should’ve told him she wasn’t sentimentally available, or then, if she didn’t , she would’ve wanted to bang her head against a wall, or Ann would kicked her ass once she found out about the thing, or maybe not, but it didn’t matter. So she took a last bite of the best bagel of her life, and once she had tasted it fully, she began to explain that it wasn’t his fault, that he had been fantastic, but she couldn’t.

“At least let me take you home.” he said when she had finished, but he didn’t seem disappointed or angry though he wouldn’t have the right, as he was the one who pointed out that she didn’t seem to look for a man, less than twelve hours earlier. As far as Mare wanted to accept the ride, she knew it was profoundly wrong to take advantage of him further, so she refused, claiming she could easily call a taxi, even if it was a lie: she didn’t even know if he had enough money to pay for the bus ticket but after all it was a few miles, and despite the cold of mid-December she could have made it to the dorm.

“If you wait a moment I’ll accompany you.” he said, alluding to his breakfast. “I also have the final preparations to do before leaving for the holidays.”

"Oh, go ahead, don’t worry, I know the way.” she answered, with her hand already on the handle of the exit door. Going down the stairs she tried not to think, more attentive to her surroundings than to the implications, if indeed there were any other than the moral ones, which she wanted to ignore, of what she had done. The walls were of white bricks, the handrail wrought iron, without the slightest trace of dust, just like the door, that didn’t move an inch when she tried to push it. She tried to pull, although she was pretty sure that the night before he had pulled it toward him, but nothing happened. She tried to catch a glimpse of something beyond the worked glass, but everything was a large white indistinct mass. Why was everything so white? A wave of panic swept over her. It couldn’t be snow. She couldn’t really be trapped in a stranger’s house because of snow, not the day before she left for home. Maybe, if she had found someone who could open the door for her, pushing with a little more strength… But to whom could she have asked? It wasn’t like the dormitory, there was no concierge that took care of what was wrong, nor could she ring all the bells of the building. Sure, she could’ve waited, but with that bad weather probably no one with some sense would’ve moved. But Tiberias had said he had some errands to do, so if she went up to ask him to open the door for her… she would’ve seemed stupid, of course, but better stupid than trapped, right?

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave. Tell me, did you fall in love with the entrance or with my bagels smell?” the guy’s voice said from the landing.

“I can’t open the door.” she answered coldly, with the same attitude she showed the night before.

Tiberias seemed incredibly ready. Hadn’t he even taken a shower?

“I know, I was coming to warn you, wherever you were. The city is blocked, or at least this part certainly is. There is no public transport, nor taxis.”

“I can walk. If only you opened that stupid door, we could end it and we both could go back to our respective lives.” she replied.

“Come up a moment and look out.” he said, and waited for her to go up the stairs with a grim look before turning his back and entering the house, where he pulled the curtain of the large window from which the light that had awakened them penetrated, showing her the city covered not by a blanket but by what looked like a whole duvet of snow, above which other white flakes were piling up at an impressive speed.

“I can do nothing about it so I’m afraid you’ll staying here for a while.”

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