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goldenwilliamson · 4 months

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strangers | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: longest fic yet. enjoy pls, i kind of love this. slight warning it does touch on the grief that one feels after a big breakup including (briefly) the awful physical symptoms of breakups. if that's sensitive for you i wish the best and advise that this might not be the fic for you x

summary: reader and leah are together for years before breaking up due to long distance. after a couple of years reader moves back to england and sees leah, and all the love comes flooding back. angsty, but fluffy.

word count: 3.3k

Your life changed when you were eighteen, not only because you signed for Arsenal, but you were in love for the first time in your life. From your early encounters with Leah, you could already feel yourself falling for her. You found her endlessly endearing, drawn in by her quiet confidence and warmth off the pitch, and her fiery commitment to every game she played.

Even though you were too scared to confess your feelings to anyone, you somehow found yourself one evening telling Leah how much you adored her. You told her about how you had felt a connection with her since the first time you met, and how it had only proved itself since then. And she reciprocated every single word of your rambling romantic confession.

From that night, you two were together for almost six years. For the most part, it was the best time of your life. You were playing at your dream club, with the perfect girlfriend, and you were happier than ever. Things always ran smoothly for you and Leah, it was just the way your personalities complimented each other. Conflict resolution came easy to you both, and you were able to talk to each other through anything that was troubling you.

For years it felt like you two were growing at the same pace, and that was why you were able to be together for so long. You both had the same visions for your future, and you had really planned on staying in London with Leah by your side for the rest of your life.

But that was all before you got the offer from Bayern Munich. You never imagined being away from Leah, and maybe you were naive in thinking long-distance would be easy for you guys. So you made the difficult decision to leave Arsenal, to leave London and Leah, and move to Germany.

After your move it became clear very quickly that proximity was important for you both. When your were living several countries away from each other, your connection which you thought was strong enough to withstand the world ending had started to be put to the test. You were talking and understanding each other less, and fighting more about stupid, trivial things. You saw a new, jealous side of Leah who would accuse you of spending too much time with new teammates, and not making time for her anymore. And you yourself were questioning Leah's attraction for you, as you couldn't feel that daily love and affection you'd been so accustomed to through the phone.

It all got to the point where you were struggling to even get yourself to training because you felt so drained by your inability to make things work with Leah. Your teammates at Bayern had noticed and had created a space where you felt safe enough to confide in them. After talking it through with some of your teammates who provided you with their objective opinions on the situation, you made the hardest choice of your life.

Leah's voiced was raised to the point where her it was almost breaking, "Six years Y/N, does all that mean nothing to you?"

"Leah, I will always love you. I just don't think as long as I'm in Germany we can be together. It's not good for us darling, we've been fighting more than ever, and I don't want to feel this resentment towards you... I don't want you to feel badly about me either," you had tried to explain, but it had come out much less clearly through your own tearful voice, punctuated with short breaths as you gasped for air.

"You can't do this Y/N. You can't give up on us," Leah had begged you, but you had remained firm in your decision and it was the last proper conversation the two of you had. Other than a couple of Champions League games where you avoided each other, and one brief trip back to London where you collected all your things from the apartment you shared, you hadn't seen Leah since.

The breakup was something you'd tried to forget, and even though it's been two years since then, you still often question whether or not you made the right decision that day. What stuck with you was the empty aching you felt every time a thought of her passed through your head. In spite of your best attempts to put it behind you and to move on, you will never forget how much love you felt for Leah, and how much grief and sadness you felt the instant you ended things.

Every week that has passed since then you have wondered what your life would be like if you and Leah had made the long-distance thing work. But now you were thinking about it even more because after a few seasons at Bayern, you were going back to play in the WSL.

When Man City approached you, your first instinct was that you absolutely could not go back to England. Because to you, England was Leah. Every memory of your time in England from when you moved at 18, to when you left at 23, is connected to Leah. As much as you loved your time in the country, you never thought you could go and live there again without her by your side. It just wouldn't feel right. However, after several meetings with your manager and calls with City, it became an offer you couldn't turn down.

At least you weren't going back to London, you thought. The distance between the capital and Manchester was just enough to feel like Leah wasn't completely within reach. Of course, it had been different once you were actually living back in England, playing with City, and having to face the reality that you and Leah would be on the same pitch again, but this time as virtual strangers.

You'd heard through the grapevine that over the last couple of years Leah had done her fair share of dating around, but you also were aware that she hadn't been in any serious relationship since you two broke up, and it was the same on your end. How were you supposed to move on when you still thought about your ex every day?

One night you were cooking dinner at your flat for yourself and Georgia Stanway, who had become a close friend of yours since her arrival at Bayern. You two had hung out a bit when you and Leah were still together, but even though Leah was one of Georgia's closest friends, she had never uttered her name around you or asked you anything about your relationship since she transfered to the German club. Not until you two were talking about how you felt about moving back to England and what it would be like playing for City, and you mentioned it first.

"It feels kind of wrong," you said honestly, "I still can't imagine not being an Arsenal player. And you know, being there without Leah."

Georgia looked at you sympathetically, "Do you miss her? I can't imagine how hard all that was for you both."

"I miss her every day, Georgia," you sighed, smiling just to ease the pain, "But I just have to keep telling myself it was the right decision, otherwise I think I'd just live in misery."

She gave you a hopeful smile, "I hope you two can work it out one day, even just as friends. I've never seen two people make each other so happy."

"Yeah I hope so too," you agreed, though the voice in your head told you that you could never make up with Leah after the way you ended things.

You had finally moved back to England after a tearful goodbye to your teammates at Bayern, but you knew it was for the best. Your first week in Manchester you were reminded of how much you loved living in England, mostly because of how different it was from where you grew up. Stepping outside always felt like stepping onto a film set. It was nice too, to catch up with old friends. It was already so much easier to organise trips into London to visit old teammates.

It was on a weekend that you were down in London, when you saw Leah for the first time. You should have known better, walking around St Albans, expecting that you wouldn't see anyone you knew. It wasn't a big enough city to get away with that.

It was still August and the League hadn't started yet, so you were free to make a trip down to London for the weekend to visit Caitlin and Katie, friends you had missed so much while you were living in Germany. You missed everything about Arsenal, but you knew there was no way you could go back there after the way things ended with Leah. It would be much too painful to even try to be friends after everything. There was too much history there that would have been impossible to set aside.

In the morning you had told Katie and Caitlin you would walk into town and buy some bread since they were out, and it was on your way home that you found yourself looking into the face of the person who you once loved more than anyone. It took a moment to register that she was actually there, getting closer as you kept walking.

"Oh my god," you said out loud, finding it extremely jarring to see her after all this time.

You both slowed to a stop in front of each other and Leah, who had always been the more talkative one, was left speechless. Looking at you her heart was both beating for you and breaking all over again.

After a few beats of silence you shook yourself out of your state of shock, "Hi, how are you?", you said.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," Leah said, finally smiling a little as she also moved away from the initial shock of seeing you again. The sound of her voice and the smile on her face brought you instant comfort. She looked different, in the best way. She looked older, which surprised you since she always had such a baby face. But now she looked mature, she looked her age, somehow so different from the 24 year old version of her you last knew.

"Me too," you agreed, laughing slightly at how awkward you were finding this to be. You'd imagined this moment endlessly over the last couple of years, but now that it was really happening you were at a loss.

"What are you doing here?" Leah shook her head, trying to make sense of seeing you.

"I'm staying with Katie and Caitlin for a couple of days," you explained.

"Oh, they didn't mention anything," Leah said, though she knows that people avoid talking about you around her. They know it's still painful for her to hear your name. Just like how Georgia never mentioned her around you.

You realised then that your transfer hadn't been announced yet by the City, and that Leah must know nothing of the news.

"You probably haven't heard, but I've actually moved back here," you say tentatively, knowing that the only reason you two weren't together was because you were living apart. But now you were closer than you had been in two years, and you had no clue what that meant, or if it had the power to change anything.

"What, to London?" Leah said quickly, her voice raising an octave in shock.

"No, I'm up North now. I've actually signed for City," you explain.

"Wow," she says, nodding her head and processing the news. The way she is looking at you doesn't give much away. Her face actually looks quite blank, as if she doesn't know at all how to feel about this.

"Yeah," you say quietly.

"Sky blue will suit you," she says simply and you smile, grateful for the playful comment.

"I don't know, I'm still struggling with the fact I'm not going to be back in red," you say, more meaning held in those words than you intended. Because not being back in red also for you meant not being back with Leah.

"I expected you to stay in Germany for a lot longer," Leah says and the feelings of guilt rush in. You'd thought about this a lot when you decided to come back to England.

The main reason you had called it quits with Leah was because you thought Germany was going to be your home for at least another five years. You couldn't do that many more years of distance, of short phone calls, of fighting and miscommunication. But of course you never thought after just a couple of years you would be coming back to England. And if you had, you might have been able to stick things out with Leah.

"I really did too," you say sincerely, hoping that she knows you wouldn't have done what you did if you knew you'd be back so soon.

Leah runs her hand roughly through her hair, and you can almost see the cogs turning in her head through the look in her eyes.

"This changes things then, doesn't it?" She asks, voicing the thoughts floating around both your minds.

"I suppose it does," you nod imperceptibly, afraid to admit it.

You stand in silence now, looking at each other trying to work out exactly what this changes.

"I miss you so much," Leah says, her voice thin and wavering.

"I know. I've felt sick without you," you say, voicing things you'd never voiced to anyone. You have genuinely experienced the most physical forms of grief for Leah. The first few months after the breakup you were nauseous everyday, throwing up even when your stomach was completely empty. It just felt impossible to go on without her.

Leah just nods, having been through the exact same things.

"I'm so sorry," you say finally taking the opportunity to apologise for the thing that you've felt so much guilt and remorse about.

"It's okay," Leah assures you, but you shake your head instantly.

"It's not, I don't know what I was thinking Leah," you say honestly, feeling the emotions all over again. Your eyes well up and Leah is quick to embrace you, allowing you to let it out in her arms.

"You were right about everything but," she says, "Things weren't working."

"Yeah, but I should've tried to work through it," you voice the things you'd been thinking over for the last two years, trying to compose yourself with deep breaths.

"I wasn't making it easy for you, I was so hard on you. I feel really bad about the way I treated you when you left," Leah reflects on her own behaviour.

"It's okay," you tell her now.

You stand in the middle of the footpath in St Albans, holding each other, both unable to believe that this was real.

"You don't absolutely hate me do you? Because I'd understand if you did," you say, stepping back to look at Leah, trying to ease some of the tension.

She laughs, "I tried hating you," she says, "But that lasted about a minute and then I just went on trying to love you less."

"And how did that go?" You ask hopefully.

"Yeah not very good," she says.

"I couldn't really get the hang of not loving you either," you say.

Leah is smiling, but you can see the reservation in her eyes. She knows that everything has suddenly changed, but still, nothing is the same as it once was. You feel it too.

"What do we do now?" She asks.

You shrug your shoulders, "I've got to deliver this bread back to Katie and Caitlin, do you want to come?"

"I'll come," she nods, "But what happens after that?" Leah says.

"After that," you sigh, "We are about two years overdue in catching up on each others lives, so I'd say we'll have a nice long chat."

You are stepping forward now, beginning the journey back to Katie and Caitlin's, and Leah is by your side.

"Best start now then," Leah says, and the two of you fall deep into conversation immediately. It warms you heart how at home you feel, even after all this time.

When you knock on the door back at the girls flat, Katie answers with a look of absolute shock on her face.

"What are you doin here!?" She looks right at Leah, as if she was an intruder.

"Well I bumped into this one in town and she invited me over, is that alright?" Leah explains.

Katie takes a moment to process the words before nodding and stepping back to let you both inside.

"Oh my god, what are you doing here?" Caitlin echoes when you all walk into the living room together.

"We've just bumped into each other," you say, "I thought I'd drop off the bread before Leah and I go and catch up."

"Cool, cool," Caitlin says, trying to mask her shock while Katie looks on, stunned into a very uncharacteristic silence.

"God, you two look like you've seen a ghost," Leah says.

"I feel like I have!" Katie stresses, and you feel the exact same way.

"Alright, let's go down the park," you suggest to Leah, a place where you two used to walk around in circles, chatting for hours. It seems like the perfect place to go.

"Perfect," she nods, "Bye you two," she looks between her teammates.

"See ya, have fun," Caitlin says.

"Don't kill each other," Katie says and you scoff.

"We won't," you roll your eyes.

You and Leah step out the front door you share a moment of laughter about the interaction.

"Did I hide my shock better than those two when I saw you?" You ask.

"Absolutely not, I believe your words were oh my god," Leah laughs.

You two end up at the park, walking around at first, talking about how you are going to be playing for City now and your time at Bayern. Leah gives you the big run down on what's been happening at Arsenal since you've left, telling you about all the new players. It's like seeing an old friend, and you're just so glad that she hasn't spent two years hating you.

After what must be over an hour, you two sit at a bench. Same one you would always find together on your morning walks.

It's weird being so physically close to her again. You want to reach out and hold her forever, but you think it might be too soon. Leah feels the same though and she shows it in the way her hand reaches out to find yours.

"Can I be honest with you?" She asks.

"Of course you can," you say with a squeeze of her hand.

"I haven't felt this..." she pauses trying to find the word, "Happy? Peaceful? I don't think there is a right word to tell you how right this feels to be with you again," she says, healing all the cracks in your broken heart.

"It feels the same as I remember it feeling," you say in agreement, "Like this is just how it's supposed to be."

"Would it be absolutely crazy of us to try to pick up where we left off?" Leah suggests.

"People will definitely think we're crazy, but I don't have a problem with that," you say.

"Is this really what you want?" Leah asks, using her free hand to gesture between you both.

"Yes," you say without missing a single beat, "I don't want to ever go without this again."

"Good. We're on the same page then," she nods finally.

Not wanting to wait any longer you ask her a question you've been dying to ask, "Can I kiss you, please?"

Without even a word Leah just smiles, leaning in to kiss you. Somehow it's a goodbye kiss, and a hello kiss, an I missed you kiss, and an I'm sorry kiss. It's everything you wish you could've said to each other in once simple gesture.

"I haven't stopped loving you for a minute, I hope you know that," you say quietly, as you pull apart.

Leah smiles, looking at you with all the love in the world, "I've spent years dreaming that one day we'd see each other again and you'd say that."

"In my dreams, you say it back," you joke.

"Sorry," Leah shakes her head, "I love you."

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #arsenal women #woso #woso community #lionesses

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phntmeii · 6 months

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I am going to have to start using a wheelchair soon because of mobility issues. Can I get hcs for the opla! guys (straw hat crew, Shanks, Buggy, and Mihawk) with a partner who has to use a wheelchair?

OPLA Characters x disabled!Reader

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

Pairings: Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk x disabled!reader

A/N: hello anon!! i hope ur doing alright <3 I don't personally use a wheelchair so I made this broad! (Some bullets are the characters pushing the wheelchair, while others are you in control, etc.) I tried to keep this light-hearted and fluffy! Assume characters have accommodated to you already and are close enough to be acting in the ways listed <3 However, please lmk if some things are inaccurate or non-preferable for my own understanding :)

Monkey D. Luffy

Please do not entrust this man to handle a wheelchair. He is literally running full-force while pushing you around.

Absolutely thinks it’s a game, laughing playfully while you’re holding on for dear life. (He literally thinks you’ll be fine no matter what 😭😭).

Has asked once or twice to be the one in the wheelchair because he thinks it’s like being on a ride. (He tried to do a trick and fell on his ass).

He is a sweetheart though <3 He’s trying to keep your spirits up and make you feel involved in all the action.

Roronoa Zoro

Is completely serious in protecting you. His eyes are on complete watch at everyone around you two.

Absolutely death stares anyone coming close even if they have no intention of harm.

NEVER leaving your side, especially in public. Consider this scary dog privileges with Zoro.

Sometimes forgets that you're in a wheelchair and walks too fast. He panics that he's lost you before realizing that you were just around the corner.

Usopp

Usopp tried to keep careful when handling your wheelchair if you need it.

He's definitely the one to keep his positive energy alive while with you. He's cracking jokes and sometimes moves your wheelchair along with his hums of a song.

Is the gentlest when it comes to picking you up and out of the wheelchair to set you down when you request to be. He likes feeling useful to you.

In the presence of danger, this is the equivalent of Shaggy and Scooby-Doo the way he just scurries off full-speed with you.

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji is usually the one to guide you if you're in the Strawhats. He keeps a steady pace and isn't reckless at all.

Takes any opportunity to be close. When standing still, he puts his head onto yours. While moving, he likes to hold your hand to keep close.

He is the one to formally complaint if public spaces aren't wheelchair-accessible while apologizing profusely for the establishment's insolence. (he's overdramatically crying)

Shanks

Not once will he ever make mention of it (that isn't about accommodations/preferences) nor treat you differently.

Always tries to make you feel involved, especially in group settings where he's always right beside you.

Normally sits down as well to keep eye level with you rather than standing over you. (He'll put his hat on you while keeping conversation going).

In threatening situations, his top priority is to get you safe before he engages.

Buggy

Like Luffy, do not entrust this man with your safety pls 😭 He's spinning the wheelchair way too fast and you have to hold on for dear life.

If ever you feel insecure about using a wheelchair, he's immediately setting you into the audience and creating an elaborate show to cheer you up.

If you insist on going somewhere on your own (which he only allows if he's still close because he worries), he'll still detach his hand so he can place it above yours.

Mihawk

Definitely the most trustworthy and safe. If you want to be moved, he will. If you wish to be independent, then he'll respect it.

When it comes to other people, they aren't important in his eyes since his focus is you and your comfort.

While he is stubborn, he is understanding. Not once has he shamed you at all. Even in his normally judging stares, they seemed to soften with you.

In regards to other people starting fights or trying to take advantage of you, he has no hesitation in defending you. It's basically on sight.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #opla luffy x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #opla mihawk x reader

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ghostandsoap · 9 months

Text

Familiarity

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Tags: Nightmares. Panic.

Word Count: < 1,000

“Just stay right here.”

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

Ghost stirred awake, a quick and sharp inhale of air entering his lungs when his eyes snapped open.

It took him a moment to identify where he was. He had to re-familiarize himself with his surroundings before recognizing that he was in his bedroom, safe and sound from the outside world and the horrors that plagued his dreams.

His body relaxed when he comprehended this. A long, burdened sigh sounding from his chest that felt tight and weighted with false-alarm panic.

He remembered then that he wasn’t alone in his safe space. In fact, the person that made him feel the safest was right next to him. His sudden movement and the sound of his discomfort pulled you from your slumber, immediate guilt washing over him from disturbing your peace.

“Simon?” You said with a light and groggy voice.

His heart swelled at the sound of a your voice. Your caring and generous tone brought comfort to his anxiety that ran rampant through him.

He pulled you closer, as close as he possibly could. The hard thumping of his heart could be heard through his chest that your ear was pressed against.

“Mm,” He hummed as an affirmation that he heard you. “Go back to sleep, doll.”

You ignored his command.

“Are you okay?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look at him. Your eyes just barely opened to get a good look at him.

This wasn’t the first nor the last time this had happened. He was no stranger to his real-life nightmares infiltrating his sleep.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He nodded, doing his best to hide the shakiness in his breathing.

He would calm down soon. He just needed time to pass.

“Bad dream?” You asked.

He almost chuckled. There was no getting anything past you.

“Mmhm.”

Granted, it wasn’t as intense as some of the nightmares he had in the past. The most real and vivid ones would have him in a cold sweat and a disoriented state of pure terror.

But nonetheless, you understood. This was still one of those dreams.

“Can I do anything for you?” You dragged your fingertips across his back with a light touch.

A scar here. A scar there. The marks that created the map that was Simon Riley.

“No,” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Just stay right here.”

That was far too easy. You wished you could do more. If you could take the pain and suffering from him, you would. But he would never, ever wish that on you or anybody else.

Ghost’s hand came to the back of your head, settling it in the crook of his neck. The trembling in his fingers had slowed, his breathing was steadier.

Having you there with him was the best reminder that was okay and he was safe. The support and love of the woman he admired was extremely helpful in returning him to normal.

And if staying right where you were was all he needed and asked of you, then you were more than happy to oblige.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x fem! reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley drabble #short little ghosty fic

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artsyjedi · 1 year

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Life on its form

Any driver x fem!ooc (only mentioned as she)

WARNINGS: driver dies, there are references to depression (mentions of giving up). HEAVILY ANGST - if you find something else, let me know.

Also there's probably some grammar mistakes here and there.

A/N: it's the saddest thing i've written in a year but I couldn't waste the idea. Hope you enjoy :)

From books to movies, love seems to be this enormous thing that works like missing pieces from a puzzle.

Love is supposed to fulfill the empty spaces.

And is very common to hear people say: “It takes effort, and sometimes it’s tiring. But it’s worth it.”

So, during every single relationship, she tried. She tried her best to make it work – because that’s what it takes, right? To some she was loud, to others she was more of an introverted. Fun but not funny, you know? At one point, to one of her partners, she was just enough. She never got too angry or too sad or too happy.

Her partner loved when their friends talked about her. About how good she was, how they wished their own partners were like that. She never complained when he went out with his buddies, wasn't jealous when he got too close to another woman. She was a good girl. His good girl.

It was tiring. But… love requires that. You need to give to receive. And they were good. They were also enough to her. Even when they got mad, like mad-mad, everything was just fine.

For four whole months, they had planned this trip to enjoy the always so beautiful and fun European summer. When the day arrived, they simply said she should go alone, that they weren't on the mood and would be a terrible company. And, on top of all that, they said:

"You should go alone, make friends. It's gonna be good for you. For us, you know? To be apart."

Great. She thought. That clearly meant the relationship wasn't on its best moment. Ups and downs (even though it was more downs than ups). That’s what relationships are made of. No need to think any deeper.

So was right there, on that small country on the northen coast of the Mediterranean Sea, that she learned that love is actually simple and effortless. It comes, stays and requires nothing.

He taught her that. All he wanted from her was sweet nothing.

What was supposed to be a four week trip, became two months. And then three. Between somewhere here and there, she texted her now ex to let them know she wasn't coming back.

All her friends and family thought she had lost it. Who ends a three years relationship because of some random person they just met? They truly thought she had gone mad (to which she responded: yes! Madly in love!).

Was after a great night where they lived, laughed and loved, that he told her he was a Formula 1 driver. She imediatly wanted to cry. Not because of fear of everything being too much, or because he started to ramble about his plans with his ever so excited smile.

She cried because, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. It didn't matter what would happen, if he was famous, if she would need to deal with all types of people.

He had her. She had him. Nothing else mattered.

When they had to leave the little world they had created during those months and go back to reality, all they felt was deep and raw love.

And then the months became a year. Then a year and a half. And then two years. And then they were living together. What started with a small space on his drawer, became a full section on his closet.

When routine started to catch up, during times where her work demanded more and so did his, with more and more races being add to the calendar, they decided to create a sort of system. Something silly. Something them.

They downloaded some apps for couples, so when they couldn't be together, they could still do things together. Their favourite was one where they could draw. Also, at the end of each day, they would write down to each other those detailed text messages talking about all things.

He also started to leave notes on the pockets of her clothing before leaving. Sometimes he would write poetry, something to make her laugh, or some sort of reminder of how much he loved her. He also loved to leave things with the notes: small gifts, from jewelry to chocolate.

No matter what happened, she knew it would always have something.

But it’s been three months since his accident. Three months she hadn’t found a note, the drawing app widget is nothing more than a white empty board and there is no more detailed messages.

She hadn’t attended the race that weekend, having too much work to do. They did made plans for going to this fancy restaurant he always wanted to try, though. Such a shame they never made it.

Would be a lie to say she remembers much from the days after the news. Actually, she barely remember the day itself. She knows she was the first to get to the hospital, that she was the one to call the family (both hers and his), and then talk with the team.

Some said they were sorry, some tried to find something to blame trying hard to sooth the situation.

But that was life on its form.

Even if it had someone or something to blame, what difference would make? He wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t hear his laugh anymore, or his tantrums, or his rambling. She would never see again the way he used to lean against every surface he could, or how bad he was at hiding his emotions.

She would never touch him again.

And grief it’s different to every person. There’s no right or wrong way to feel it – as her therapist said. People feel what they feel when they feel and there's nothing you can do to change that.

She accepted easily, better than she thought she would, at least. She did got depressed on the first days, of course, but she kept on going. Always foward.

For first week of her work vacation, she went to her family house. No one dared to say anything. She was laughing, going out with old friends - what was surprising, considering they were sure she would give up.

But that's something she could never do.

She does have something to live for. The memories of every single moment they had together, good or bad, are worth living for.

Now it's been two days since she came back. The apartment is so quiet she allows herself to wonder why she didn't cried yet. From the balcony, she sees the sun making its way towards the line where the sky mets the sea. In a few minutes, it'll also be gone.

She smiles. Once, her therapist asked her "in one word, and just one, describe your love and why"

She answered that their love was just like the ocean. Not because it's unstable or deep, as some people say. She chose the ocean because it's endless and most likely, it won't ever go away. Now thinking better, she should've had chosen waves instead of ocean: always moving, always coming and going but never dissipating completely.

And that’s what their love is: something that will never just go. Now, some days she feels more, some days she feels less. But it’s there.

With this thought, she decides to change her clothes and do something she's been doing her best to avoid: to wear the last cardigan he bought. It was during that week, it came inside of a beautiful box and he had smiled saying, "i have great plans for this one".

Making her way to the small beach in front of their building, she takes a deep breath and fels that stupid feeling again. The one that puts her on the edge of something that never comes no matter how hard she tries. As if there's something waiting right around the corner.

The sky is now a mix of purple, pink and orange. It's beautiful. The wind becomes cold while she just stands there, feeling the sand wrap her feet. The waves crash, coming and going and then coming again.

It's when a bird flies too close to her that she puts her hands on both pockets. A reflex. Something so normal but that means a lot, specially when she feels one of her hands brush against something.

And there it is. She finally went over the edge, finally saw what is around the corner. Her eyes gets watery, she can feel tears falling down her cheeks and sees the wet dots being created on the sand. She laughs. Suddenly life is less heavy.

Her body almost gives in, but she manages to sit properly. With another deep breath, she sees what he left for her.

Two years ago, during a race week on the US, they managed to scape go to Santa Monica. He insisted on going to the photo booth and she hated every single one of the pictures. He told her to chose one to keep, the others could go.

And he carried that one with him everywhere. Either on his wallet or inside of his helmet.

And now the picture is on her hand, wrapped in a small paper. She's sure it was already there when he gave it to her, and when he kissed her goodbye for the last time.

On his crap handwriting, was written: a memory for you to keep until I come back.

Seing the sun finally disappear and the moon rise on the other side, she reliases she created another memory for her to keep on living for.

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thevirgodoll · 1 year

Text

A Rant on Friendships.

You know… ever since I learned that being ignored or ostracized caused the same amount of pain in the brain as physical pain, it all clicked. I was never too emotional or overreacting to getting left behind by people I would’ve done everything for. I was grieving a loss. I was grieving having love exploding inside of me with no release.

As someone who prioritizes conflict resolution, I can’t fathom a life where extreme avoidance is the default. While I go through periods of isolation, I go out of my way to affirm everyone and make them feel safe. I can’t possibly understand doing otherwise. Maybe, it’s not something for me to understand.

If it was a romantic partner treating them this way, they’d throw a fit. Love them one day, hate them the next. And that’s the problem… we have normalized that behavior and called it a boundary. That’s not the definition of setting a boundary. Stonewalling is literally emotional abuse. A boundary involves reciprocal behavior, not punishment.

There’s such a selfish, lackadaisical approach everyone has with each other in friendships. These types of people are the first to complain about lacking friends, but don’t want to do the work to upkeep them.

Because I go through hell in my life by being disabled, I find it to be no excuse at this point. I find some way to stay afloat for everyone else, even when I’m drowning. I say these friendship sentiments often, but it’s getting to the point to where I don’t even want to try anymore. I am tired. I’m done overextending myself or waiting for things to change or for someone to recognize my story and just…be present.

The horrors are immeasurable, but we must endure. Therapy has taught me to prioritize vulnerability… so when I display that, and don’t get it back, I’ve learned to just understand I can’t have someone like that in my space. In my healing process, it’s become apparent that I have to see actions for what they are. I can’t control everything. I have to value myself even when someone else devalues me. It’s not personal, it’s misdirection… it’s projection.

When someone is blinded by their own cynicism and insecurities, it’s easy to maintain bias and mindset fallacies. It's easy to be committed to a narrative that doesn't exist. It's easy to perceive what you want to. But like I always say, perception is truly not reality. Knowing that is the only way to tear down your ego enough to navigate friendships and relationships when it comes to conflict resolution.

Recognizing patterns is a huge key to self development and growth, not just creating a self care routine or wearing a face mask or making a Pinterest board. Accountability is the step to mindfulness. Wisdom comes in admitting you don’t know what you don’t know.

And that requires a skill set that so many people are unwilling to have and refine. Admitting you’re the problem means facing yourself. People would rather turn their back than look in the mirror.

I do not wish to entertain dynamics where I don’t feel the love, where I feel like I’m taking up too much space, where I have to chase someone to even get half of what I’d give them.

Some people don’t have the capacity to be what I need them to be, and I have to learn to be okay with that. And even still, I have the upmost respect and deep love anyway.

I can vouch for my own character. I don’t need anyone to validate it for me. If someone wants to go choose rocks when they have a Diamond in front of them, then so be it. That’s their L to take. Not mine.

All love. Grateful for what is in alignment.

#i say this a lot but idc #thoughts #mental health #actually chronically ill #chronic illness #actually adhd #adhd #disability

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imarvelatthestars · 7 months

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Broken

Pairings: Crosshair x gn!Reader

Warnings: sfw - talk of depression, grief/mourning, loss, & the inability to cope with it; reference to Tech's death; gentle pining

Notes: just an emo little drabble that came to mind while rewatching Cross' time on Mt. Tantiss.

"I don't like endings." It's said as the holo clicks off and the screen goes black. "And I've seen this one too many times."

Crosshair blinks - curious, watching, seeing all the things you can't hide - but remains silent. You know the question he's asking.

"It's sad," you explain. "The brother dies saving his family and it's, it's just sad. I thought I could watch it again, with you, and it wouldn't bother me, but..." But I'm still not strong enough. It weighs heavy on your heart. "I've had too much sadness in my life."

This is something you think he can understand.

From what little you've gleaned, Crosshair is a haunted man, never alone because the past and the ghosts he's created over the years have followed him all the way to Pabu. He keeps to himself, he doesn't speak much, and he doesn't sleep either (the discolored circles under his eyes tell you this). Half the time you're not even sure he wants you as a friend, but Hunter assures you he does.

"He's better with you. Looks more like himself when you're around."

You wonder now if that's because you're a little bit broken, too.

You wonder if he's irritated that you stopped the film before it was over. You forget sometimes that other people don't do that. "Sorry. We can turn it back on if you want, I just-."

He still doesn't speak, but he shakes his head 'no'.

"Right."

The chrono on your wall flicks one minute closer to midnight.

"You hungry? I think I have some leftovers in the fridge. Noodles or something, I don't remember. Lyana dropped them off the other day."

Crosshair is as quiet as ever. He doesn't even seem to be in the room with you. His mind is far away, it's written in the vacancy in his eyes. He does this sometimes. The ghosts become too real, the bodies pile up, and the regret stings like a fresh wound.

You've never killed anyone before, never been the reason that someone lost their life, but you think you can understand him in this way because you know what it is to be haunted. It's a different type of supernatural, perhaps a little softer around the edges compared to the jaggedness of his Empire days, but it's ghostly all the same.

So you sit in the silence. There's nothing that can be said to fix what's been done, either to or because of either of you, nor is there an easy way out of the grief your lives have left behind. But there is this moment, this companionship that has thrived against all the odds.

I'm here, you tell him in the only way you can. He doesn't like words in the same way you don't like endings - they hurt too much. You hope he can feel it, these giant, tender feelings for him that have made a home inside your chest, the safe space you've carved out for him. I won't go anywhere.

It takes a long time before he finds himself again, and even longer to find his words, but it comes all the same. You're reheating the noodles when his voice crackles from the sofa.

"Tech died," he rasps. Like his vocal chords have forgotten how to work right.

Yes, he did. It's been several months now. His absence is keenly felt in dozens of ways across the island, but most notably in Phee and his brothers. In Crosshair. Perhaps that holo hadn't been such a good idea.

Your own words return to you then. "It's just sad."

There lots of things you imagine he might be thinking in the silence that follows, and lots of things you might say in return. How you wish you could have known Tech better, how he shouldn't blame himself, how Tech wouldn't have blamed him, but they're all empty and devoid of any real meaning. They're simple comforts meant to soothe a broken heart and Crosshair is not the type of man who is easily comforted.

You hand him the noodle bowl and a utensil before resettling on the cushion next to his. Your knees brush together. It's a nice feeling. You share the bowl in the quiet dark and you pretend not to see the welling of tears along his waterline, he pretends he cannot feel the shards of your heart piercing through your ribcage and into his.

He stays the night. The shawl on the back of your sofa now smells like him, so do the cushions. You love him a little more in the morning and, loathe to admit it though he is, he loves you a little more than that.

star wars taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @rain-on-kamino @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @deejadabbles @moodymisty @wings-and-beskar

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #crosshair #x reader #the bad batch #star wars #basically i was thinking that once he recovers and moves to pabu he'll probably be a depressed traumatized wreck who never speaks #and that maybe he would need a friend to get him through it

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redheadspark · 1 year

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Milo

Summary: Druig finds a message from an old friend, and his heart breaks all over again

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief

A/N: I HAD to write an angsty piece with Druig, and angst is not my forte! I hope you all like it :)

Druig was sitting on the edge of his bed, the view of space right outside his window and the scattered stars making the picture for him in what he was feeling inward: stillness, vast openness. Loneliness.

Yeah, loneliness was kicking in.

The last few days were nothing but a blur to him, having both mental and physical reminders of all that occurred. It would be some time for Druig to really let things settle. But the fact of the matter is that it was too raw, too much to just let go. He knew the others were in the same boat as he was, if not a bit less or more. Who knew, Druig never wanted to ask, he had other things to worry about or think about.

Walking away from Earth for the first time since he arrived seemed like the best idea, given the circumstance he was in. The village he created and looked after for the last 500 years would be fine without him, none of them were ever held captive or held against their will to stay with him. He had no real home or a place to stay to call his own apart from the jungle, so the Domo was the next best option. Makkari and Thena came on the Domo, wishing to find other Eternals that could be out in the universe and beyond. Druig was pondering that same theory too when they all learned of their true nature and objective. Of course, Druig had his suspicions of Arishem for some time, long before they all found out about the Emergence and that they were created to help destroy planets. But now it was certain: Arishem was not to be trusted.

Druig has dealt with loss more within the last few days than he ever thought he would, personally and intimately. Although he has seen humans murder one another throughout the centuries and throughout his time on the planet, he grew a calloused shield in a sense. It still pained him, mostly because he was told to never intervene and to never stop the actions since it was part of their evolution and their time on the planet. But there was never a death that was close to him, almost part of him really, that shook him to his core. Up until a few days ago.

The loss of Ajak and Gilgamesh was bad enough, and Druig was sad that he was never going to see them again. He always had a history with Ajax, butting heads with her and never seeing eye to eye when it came to her allegiance to Arishem. Yet the guilt of knowing that she loved the humans as much as he did, he wished she was alive to ask for forgiveness. And for Gilgamesh, Druig always loved his joy and optimism about life and the people around him. Seeing Gilgamesh be devoted to Thena and her well-being, doing anything he can to keep her safe and her mind intact, made Druig wish he had that with someone.

He rubbed his fingers along his eyelids, feeling the tension all over his body and the grief weighing down on him. There was still one mystery that Druig has yet to uncover, and it was eating him alive. The seed was planted a few days prior, out in the small countryside in rural Scotland, back when Druig was going to be an old friend again.

That wasn’t the case.

He felt something rub against his foot, his eyes opening up again and looking down along the floor. Next to his bare feet, an orange form of some kind. Fur, soft and yet tough fur that was against his pale ankle, and a long tail curling around his ankle with ease. Druig cocked his head, seeing the head of the animals finally perk up at him.

An orange tabby, wearing a unique collar.

“Hmm,” Druig hummed to himself, reaching down to touch the top of the cat's head. The cat instantly purred and molded against his palm. Druig was never one to be fully fond of cats, he tolerated them back in his village since they would help with the pest problems and be great alarms for night raiders. But still, they were okay and hard to deal with at times since they were independent. Yet now, out in the middle of space, he was giving love and affection to a simple cat.

A simple cat who belonged to someone he loved.

The collar around his neck was one he’s never seen before, a small pendant on the front of the collar that was dangling and almost sounding like a bell. Drug finally got down on the level of the cat, scratching the back of its ears to see the pendant there. He’s yet to see it in full since getting the cat on the Domo was already a surreal moment to begin with. Cats were never one to really trust a stranger, not how Druig remembered it. But this one, in particular, took to him as if Druig was its master. How strange.

“You’re odd one, aren’t ya?” Druig murmured, his voice heavy and still laced with tiredness and a hint of grief as he moved his fingers over to the pendant. Carefully and without disturbing the little cat, he took off the collar with a soft click, wishing to examine it better. But once he had the collar in his palm, seeing how small it was and well worn, a light shined from the top of the pendant and Druig nearly dropped it. The light morphed into some kind of image, the flicking of the light made Druig see what it was and he was shocked.

A face, a holographic face. Your face.

Druig dropped the collar on the ground, though your face stayed illuminated in front of him and hovering over the cat collar. His eyes were on yours, seeing the roundness of your cheeks and the cool look of your bright eyes that always reminded him of the gray storms over the open ocean. Your hair, the same shade of warm fall leaves on the ground, clenched at Druid’s heart and made Druig only wish to reach out and touch it with his fingers. But the look you were giving in this message, it had to be a message, it was rather grave. Or solemn. He had no clue.

“If you are seeing my face, that means two things happened: One is that you’re an Eternal, only because of the energy an Eternal carries is linked to this metal that I conceived and carried. No other energy, including human energy, can activates this message by touch, so I know this is in the right hands. Secondly, it means I am dead. Or about to die. Either way, I’m already dead by the time this plays.”

Hearing your voice made Druig feel tears already along his eyelashes, the heaviness of his throat was felt and his fingers clenched in his lap so tight. He knew this was merely a message, but in his mind, he wished it was real. He wished you were there in front of him, with your warm tone of voice that reminded him of the summer sun, or your touch along his skin that felt like the first snowfall in winter. It was both a great and sick feeling, seeing a here message of you and earring your voice that almost seemed real. Almost.

“If you have this in your possession, then that means something happened and we are all together again. I hope it’s something that you all can figure out on your own, and I wish I was there to see you again. But this is a warning, and I want to warn you all before it’s too late. Deviants are back….and they’re coming for me.”

Druig sat up from the mention of the creatures, his eyes going big from hearing that from you.

“At first I thought I was imagining it, since the last time we ever had to deal with Deviants was back when e were all…..all together,” You paused in the message, almost grimacing from the memory of that night when you all split apart. Druig did too, looking down for a moment and remembering all that happened. Thena’s Mahd Wy Ry, Druig in a rage for not helping the humans that were being slaughtered in front of them, and leaving them all behind. Leaving you behind. Druig would forever remember your face in his mind, heartbroken and in mourning as he turned his back on you.

Druig would forever regret it.

“But I know when I see the future, and I saw them coming here to my home. I saw it first three days ago, and then two days ago, and now….now they’ll be here within 10 minutes. There’s not much I can do on my own, and if what I saw in my prediction was correct: they are stronger than what we are used to. Somehow they’re stronger and deadlier, and I saw my death happen. I cannot change the future once it is set in motion, I know that. So I’m…I’m ready to die.”

How could one be ready to die? In Druig’s mind, it made no sense. It pained him to see how calm and collect you were on the message, there was no sign of fear or regret there within your eyes and along your lips. You were merely at peace, at peace knowing that your life was about to end.

“I hope you all find this and take this warning to heart, be careful and mindful of these Deviants. They’re not like the ones we have fought long ago, almost like they were engineered by something, or someone, else. Either way, they’re coming for me and then they’re coming for you. I can only hope you all are together again to fight them since we were better together than we were apart.”

You paused, looking away for a moment almost to collect yourself. Druig watched hopelessly, wishing once again he could reach out and give you some kind of comfort. He always hated it when you saw a future and there was no way you could change it. Just in the way he couldn’t control the humans and stop them from bringing harm, you couldn’t stop the future once it was set in motion. It was one of the first common traits you two shared together that Druig loved.

“I wished I would have seen you all again,” You admitted, looking back in front of you and Druig seeing almost the tiniest hint of pain in your orbs, “We all went our separate ways, and although it was for the best, I still missed all of you. Sersi’s kindness, Kingo’s humor, Sprites’s sarcasm, Phastos’s brilliant inventions, Gilgamesh’s gentle soul, Thena’s ambitious drive, Makkari’s smile, Ajak’s leadership, Ikaris’s assertiveness….. Druig’s love,”

Druig pushed away a tear that was falling down his cheek from the mention of his name. That tear he felt in his heart was getting bigger and wider, almost like a canyon instead of a small gap and he felt there was no way to make it short again.

“I just want you all to know…I love each of you. I would have loved to have gone back to Olympia with you all, and maybe I’ll see you there after I die. Who knows, but I do know that I don’t regret being on this planet with you. All I ask is for you to take care of this planet, it’s a good planet with good humans on it. All we’ve seen and experienced here is good, chaotic at times, but good. And…take care of each other. We are family after all.”

The hologram went off instantly, the room going dark and leaving Druig again in the quietness of his room.

Druig sunk back against the side of his bed, replaying that message over and over in his mind as the orange tabby cat was now curled up around his foot, rubbing against his leg and falling asleep nice and content with Druig. Druig felt like he was punched in the gut and stabbed in his side, beyond raw to say or do anything else.

How could he not have reached out to you after he left? He was far too stubborn in his ways when he was in the village to even let the others know if he was safe and happy. You would have wanted to know, Druig knew that for a fact. You two were thick as thieves, almost in tune with one another. He was even bitter that you chose to stay with the others in the temple, thinking you two were closer than you were and that you would follow him. Instead, he set heartbreak, maybe thinking he made the wrong choice.

Not in going with his beliefs, but for not telling you his feelings towards you.

Druig looked back down at the cat, who was already asleep with the tail around his ankle and his put nice and loud in the room. He had it chuckle, finding it a bit funny that he found this cat at your cottage. Well, what was left of your cottage. He looked at the pendant on the collar once more, turning it over to the backside, and the small engraved mark that was along the metal.

With a raised eyebrow, he touched the engraved D with the top of his finger. Once again, there was light in the room as your face reappeared in front of Druig.

“Druig, this message is just for you,” You said on the hologram, Druig’s attention was once again on high alert as you took in a long breath, “I wanted to give you a separate message because….because I have something I wish to tell you. I know you’re with the others, and perhaps you’re watching this alone, and I know they had to convince you somehow to get back together since you’re stubborn in your ways. But….but I hope you’re okay with your life,”

You grinned on the hologram, Druig tearfully grinning too.

“Makkari told me she saw your village about 100 years after you left us, and she told me your village is beautiful and thriving. I wish I could have seen it, knowing you and how you care about the humans, it would have been a sight to see. I should have been braver and followed my gut, like you, but I was afraid to. And for that, I’m sorry for not going with you into the jungle. Just so you know Druig, I would have in a heartbeat,”

Druig drew his knees to his chest to rest his chin on top of his knees, feeling more like a child than anything with wide wonder and disbelief as he was hearing you say such things.

“Out of everyone, you were the one I was closest to. I saw your heart, no matter the callouses and how minty times you tried to hide it breaking from the humans, and I found it to be one of the most beautiful hearts I have ever seen Druig. You had no pride in yourself, and sometimes I think the others would benefit from learning from you when it comes to not taking in any pride. Especially Ikaris, him and his ‘Golden Boy’ Persona,”

Druig chuckled, a tear grin on his face as you kept talking and grinned widely.

“My first regret is never following you to the jungle, and the second is….never telling you that I loved you.”

If time had the ability to stop, everything would have gone still in that moment when Druig heard those words.

“Cowardice is a funny thing, it can keep a person from taking a risk or a leap. Even an Eternal can sense and feel it, and I never thought it would be me. But love is another tricky thing to navigate, and I have suffered from it too. Yet still, even after so many years and all of my time alone, I never regret falling in love with you. Because loving you made me feel as though I could fly, that I could produce my own energy like the sun, or even just….just being profoundly happy,”

“But it was never my place to tell you, I didn’t think it was. Our paths were never meant to be, and that had to be my reality. But I know I have to tell you now before it would never be said because I know you had doubts about your worth and if anyone would ever love you. Druig, you are more loved than you could ever imagine,”

Druig could think back to the plenty of times you two were together, long before Druig left you and the rest of the Eternals behind. You two would chat together about everything and anything your heart desired, Druig wished to hear every premonition that you had and help you decipher what it meant, you would discuss his thirst to help humanity and keep the humans safe. He enjoyed your company, far more than the others. There was no doubt you had a special place in his heart, and now to have your own feeling be presented to him after your death, Druig felt as though, for a split moment, he missed his chance.

He knew he missed his chance, and he was regretting it more and more.

“You don’t deserve to hear all of this though, Druig. You deserve a long and happy life, on this planet or back home in Olympia. I know you have doubts about Arishem and what you can do for the humans, but if you could be one favor while you’re still on earth.”

Druig would do anything for you at this point. It didn’t matter if he never said goodbye, nor did it matter that he never saw your face one last time. All that mattered was that you were thinking of him, in your very last moment alive before you would be murdered, and that was what broke Druig’s heart even more. Druig merely wished to turn back time, to go back and stop himself from leaving you behind. Or to even take you with him, and maybe you both would have a life together that would be bearable.

When Druig and the other Eternals found your cottage, perched and nestled in the countryside and was halfway destroyed, it broke Druig’s heart. To see all of the craftsmanship that you place in making that little house your home now almost reduced to rubble and dust along the green grass and the little river trickling by in front of your flower garden bed.

He did love you, Druig was never to say he was never in love with you. You brought light to his darker days, hope to his times of despair, and strength when he was weak. Maybe he was oblivious to the fact that he loved you, and made he too was afraid to act on it like you were with your own love for him. You both were afraid to jump, and now there was no hope of trying again.

“I want you to live, Druig,” You said softly, your voice the softest tremor in his room that float along the walls, “Not just live from morning to night. But really live: go see the world that is out there beyond your village and out of the jungle. The world is big and full of goodness, much more than you can ever imagine or you’re ever dared to dream. All you need to do is go, go out there and see all that the humans have done”

Druig still felt his heart falling and yet flying at the same time. Even while he left his village behind and save the planet, he still left as though he left behind on Earth when he walked up onto the Domo ramp and sped away into outer space. You loved being on Earth, Druig saw it the moment you stepped foot on the surface for the first time. He would have wished to see you those 500 years, exploring all that there was to explore. Perhaps backpacking over the mountaintop, or going along the vass desert plains. You would have drank it all in and have the thirst to see more. And maybe, in some other life, Druig would have joined you.

He could imagine it all: you two traveling the world together and seeing all that the humans have done. Druig would have had you drag him from continent to continent, trying all the food and cuisine that would expand your taste pallets, Seeing all the colors of nature, and the humans. The humans filled with joy, the humans filled with hope.

The humans and their love for their planet.

“The cat that carries this message is special to me, please take good care of him,” Druig looked down at the now sleeping cat, the tail still wrapped around his ankle and his paws under his head, “His name is Milo. Such a funny name for a cat really, but he was the runt of his litter when he was born in my barn. I didn’t have the heart to give him away, so I kept him and he’s been nothing but good to me. He’s a good cat, and he reminds me of you because he loves food and he scowls whenever he has the chance. But he also knows a good person when they come along, he can read into them and sense if they have a good heart. So I think you two will be perfect together,”

Druig, on instinct, reached down to touch the top of Milo’s head and rubbed the fur, Milo mewling softly in his sleep and stretching out very slightly from the contact.

“Druig, just remember these two things for me,” You finally said to him, Druig looking from Milo over to your face now as he knew the message was about to be over, “One, don’t be afraid to live here on Earth and see all that there is to be seen. And two, you are more loved than you can ever imagine. Don’t ever forget that, ever. I hope we met again in Olympia, I think we will, and I can’t wait to see you again. Goodbye Druig, and take care.”

The hologram was now done, the room going dark again and Druig was left in stunned silence.

Everything was coming over him like an ocean wave: anger, sadness, defeat, remorse, grief, heartbreak. It all felt too much and not enough at the same time, perhaps it was because all of those two minutes of hearing you talk to him as if you were in the room was overwhelming him. Maybe also It was because he never thought he would see you like this again.

Druig freely cried on the floor in his room, letting the tears fall and just take over for a few moments. There was nothing else for Druig to do. You were gone, even before you were dead you were gone since you two were never together. He was mentally kicking himself for not fighting harder for you, for not acting on his feelings, and for letting you know he loved you more than reason. But then again, the sick way that time worked, he would have to go on.

So as he went to bed that night with the galaxy in front of him through the window, he dreamt he was with you again. That you visited him in his Amazon Village and all was well. Milo was curled under his arm, purring away and content with his new owner and new human, somehow knowing that Druig needed his love. He did, and he vowed to protect the little cat with all his might.

The one last piece of you there was left in his world.

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @basicrese @heartofwritiing @virtueassassin @hottpinkpenguin @botanicalbarnes

#druig angst #druig x female reader #druig x female reader #druig x you #druig x reader #druig x oc #druig x y/n #druig x eternal!reader #eternals fan writing #eternals fanfiction #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

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shinakazami1 · 9 months

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TBG Shortfic

I wanted to write the meeting after the years I've mentioned on my TBG Davey ask blog (@cake-bread) in this post. It's nearly 2k words long and I do wodner if I should start posting my drafts on my Ao3 Jeueuehw but i hope someone will enjoy this! If you do pls let me know huehue

===

For Davey, the small game con felt like a nice change of pace.

He was happy that the game reception was good but he didn't miss the sense of being overwhelmed and constantly perceived. The days when he still had the energy to respond to emails and comments about his work were over. That didn't mean he wasn't grateful - quite the opposite. After all the delays, seeing the game published and still appreciated helped with his worry of him losing touch with his work.

But he didn't like how much his face was tied to the game. He wished he never uploaded the trailer on his comedy page. Or that he never mentioned it to anyone. Ever since the release of the original mod, TSP became him. He felt a bit sad that his love project made Kevan to be known only as The Narrator. It used to be funny a decade ago. And while Kevan agreed to work again with them and seemed happy, he did seem a bit tired.

At least he didn't judge Davey for destroying passion for his work.

He was worried he lost his own passion, too. Until he went to the con.

The first day went very well. In there, he felt like just a gamer once again. Except for his buds that invited him there, nobody else seemed to recognise him.

It was nice to just be seen as another fan of the media and nothing more.

There were no questions about why the release took so long. Or about what the Bucket meant. Or what got him inspired to create Gambhorra'ta.

Or if The Beginner's Guide would ever get an ultra deluxe release, too.

He sighed. That question was on his mind for a while. But he didn't trust anyone with getting to those games. Especially if it meant changing the engine as it did with TSP - it would completely miss the point of Coda choosing Source. And just trying to add or change any visuals wouldn't work at all.

He didn't even want to consider recording new lines.

Davey sipped on the soda in the red plastic cup and tried to see where he could leave it. With no table feeling safe or stable enough, he decided to go away from the retro game stand and went to his bud, asking them to hold the cup for a moment. Once they pointed him in the bathroom direction, he went there and stared at the long line.

He didn't understand how gamers could share the same bladder but that sight made him wonder if it was why most irl gamer meetings were speedrun related.

Seeing that the line didn't move in 3 minutes, he decided to get some fresh air.

He didn't know how much different it would feel than the dense air inside. It felt like a metaphor for his life but he didn't really have the mind space for figuring that one out. Instead, he focused on how dry his mouth felt, reminding him why he wasn't drinking sweet drinks as often anymore.

He noticed that a few people left the building and went to some sort of a shop in the distance. Based on their age and the alcohol restriction, he could figure out what they were buying, even if he couldn't see the writing.

'I really should go to the eye doctor finally', Davey thought.

The darkening cloudy sky felt like a timer. With no umbrella or even a jacket to cover himself with, the trip to the store seemed a bit risky. But for a small price of a beer or two, his friend would gladly come for him with the umbrella they had. And since he acknowledged the desert in his throat, he knew it would drive him crazy for the rest of the day. And that soda would only get rid of any droplet left on the sandy land.

As he walked towards the oasis, he looked back at the school building the con was taking place at. It reminded him of April 2009 and...

He decided to speed up. He really didn't like how his mind kept shifting to Coda. He thought he was doing so well of late. Everybody told him to move on.

Even he couldn't replay the games anymore.

Feeling a raindrop hit the tip of his nose just as he reached the shop felt like a sign. Whatever it was trying to point him to, he refused to acknowledge.

He looked at the prices of the water bottles and took the smaller one, feeling his wallet screaming. But so was his throat - if he didn't save it soon enough.

He didn't expect the line to seem longer than the bathroom one. He thought it was fortunate that it was due to guys coming in packs. He soon felt disappointed, seeing each one pay for their own drink. What happened to splitting the bill? Nobody liked to wait. So it felt counter productive, especially since this line felt more impatient than the last one.

Maybe it was due to the sound of the rain drops falling on the shop windows, reminding everybody of the weather. In just a few minutes, the school was not visible behind the wall of water. And more people seemed to come in, just to find some nice shelter.

Davey stared at the cigarette packages and tried to read anything off the labels. He knew his eyesight was getting worse but he didn't know it had gotten that bad. For the past 3 years, he spent most of the time behind a screen. Even if he finished most of his work on the game early in the development, he tried his best to support the rest of the crew. So he didn't really notice the change.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the cashier repeated it was his turn. The crowd felt only growing so the line moving felt like a minor thing.

The instant he got the receipt, he opened the water bottle and started drinking. He knew his throat wouldn't be grateful and would still feel dry after it but he wanted to forget about it for a moment. Just like he wanted to forget-

"David?"

Davey tried to dry the water stain off his lap with the receipt to no avail.

An overpriced water bottle, wasted. It brought the storm into the shop.

But something else brought it into his heart.

Even if his name was a version of David, he wasn't one. It was the same like Sam not always standing for Samuel or Samantha. It was a normal assumption to have and he just corrected people on that.

There were a few exceptions, though. And life just couldn't help but torment him about one of them that day.

He was about to turn over when he felt a hand brush his leg. Frozen, he watched it pick up the water bottle and stand by his side.

The last time they did that was at the bus stop over a decade ago. It was the last time they saw each other.

Coda felt just a tiny bit taller now. But the same cold aura was still there.

And the distance felt too small but too big at the same time. Memories felt within reach while longed words got stuck in an already dry throat.

He could only make himself stare at the face he thought he had already forgotten.

His mind felt both empty and full at the same time. Images of every rendition his mind made of this scene played before his eyes but none of them could match the dream-like feel of reality.

There was no anger, no disappointment. There was no shouting, laughing or running away.

Somehow, just standing just like that, side by side, never crossed his mind.

It felt as if he still had a chance to ask if he could stay over for that night. Maybe everything wouldn't turn out to be as tragic then.

He stared at the face but felt like he couldn't see it. As if his gaze pierced through it, not noticing the details or seeing the disappointed face he drilled in his mind after reading the message in the Tower for the first time.

He felt something on his right hand. He quickly looked over and saw a woman offer him a handkerchief. Without thinking, he took it ,thanked her and started to rub on the wet stain. His moves were automatic and he wondered if he wouldn't wake up in a moment with a saliva stain on his pajama pants for the third night in a row. Sleeping in one bed with 3 men was not the most comfortable but it would be way better than whatever nightmare he was having.

But if it was a dream, he had to get the courage. His actions didn't matter in these, after all.

Unfortunately, he knew it was a lie. Reality liked to show its sense of comedy timing and he knew he was the punchline.

"Do you have any socials?", he said, looking back at the other man.

He instantly cursed himself for not going on any other line from the 200+ ones he kept coming up with for the occasion. It still wasn't the worst one he could have said but that didn't make his chest any lighter.

It felt like a test he didn't know the answers to.

Fortunately, life did hold all the pieces.

"Yeah."

"What are they?"

He didn't know how he had the confidence to keep speaking. Maybe this was the way his throat was thanking him for earlier, even if it felt as if it was burrowed in dirt at that moment. He himself felt like he was drowning in some quick sand, getting consumed by the growing anxiety that somehow didn't show up on his face.

"Give me your phone."

The witnesses probably would think that Coda was some sort of a bully. He caused the other man to spill a drink, freeze in place and then put in his pin code and give away his phone without any discussion.

He couldn't see the screen. With how long Coda was typing and looking over at him every now and then, he wondered if the man opened the notes app and wrote anything.

Maybe that was the only way Coda could talk to him anymore.

But he felt there was no backing off. He was ready to face whatever he would be shown. He told himself so.

And yet, somehow, a locked Twitter account with the word 'pending' on the right was not something he expected to see.

Nor did he expect to feel a hand pat his shoulder.

Something about the casualty felt like a stab in the heart.

He would prefer to be yelled at. Instead, the sound of a bell ringing and the door closing filled his ears. He watched Coda put his hood on and join the school behind the waterfall.

Davey did expect that he would in the end get recognized on the con.

He didn't know if he would have preferred being asked about the significance of the Fern or the whole fever dream he had just experienced.

He went to buy another water bottle and a beer for his friend. He couldn't focus on the rest of the con, searching for a familiar figure.

Two days later, the pending button changed into the following one.

He didn't expect to get a 'Hey.' the same day.

Nor that he would ever again be able to say 'Hi, Coda.'

The rainy weather was no more.

But the sun was shining a bit too brightly.

===

#Tbg #The beginners guide #The beginner's guide #Fanfiction #Coda #Davey #It feels like real person fiction but pls it's just the fact game Davey says he made tsp making me do this but it's not The (tm) Man #davey wreden #My writing #Shortfic

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justpoliteconversations · 1 month

Note

hey thanks for being so kind and sweet to the lurkers most of the time we get yelled at or not acknowledged at all ; v ;

can't speak for everyone, but we're appreciative of your writings and ideas and your kindness even if we're shyer!

thank you for being such a lovely person <3

Be warned of the rant ahead, because I'm just full of those this week it would seem!

Thank you for letting me know your feelings and for the praise. I try to be kind when I can, even if it's just small gestures. I always appreciate hearing from fellow lurkers or the little shadowlings taking refuge in this tiny community we've been growing. It brightens my day knowing someone has put their trust in me enough to step forward (even if just for a moment) and express themselves.

Unfortunately, it is true that lurkers and/or shadowlings are often pushed to the fringes of a community or even outright scorned for not being more vocal or visibly present. While it's not my place to criticize or question how others run thier communities, in the same vain I can also choose how to build my own space for those who choose to visit.

My goal is to create a small, safe bubble away from the stresses of fandom discourse or the pressure to give more than one is willing or able to. To present a platform in which those who wish to step into the light may do so. And those who wish to remain quiet observers may do so as well.

In my (personal) belief regarding this topic, it is and always has been about trust. For those lurkers who are especially shy or anxious (or even hurt or scornful), trust does not always come easy (if ever), even when the logical part of one's brain tells them no one will harm, criticize or attack them. It takes time and patience from both parities (lurker/shadowling and content creator) to reach the trust needed to have that first interaction.

And even moreso than that (for those who are merely reluctant to put themselves forward), there needs to be trust that someone (anyone) will not be expected to give always what they felt comfortable giving once. That they will not be pressured or criticized for being selective or sparing in thier interactions with a creator's content.

And on a very personal note, I must give my trust too. The trust that those who wish to interact with me will do so when they are ready and willing (if ever). And that even if we never do make that first contact, the quiet bonds between us will be positive always.

Am I correct in my opinions? Who knows (I'm not omniscient). I could be completely wrong on all points. But it's what I believe and it's the foundation that I will continue to build my pebbly little castle atop of.

Thank you for reading all the way through this personal rant. I hope life is treating you all kindly.

-Polite

PS I'm cheek-flushed embarrassed again.

#to my followers #to the lurkers

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morganski-19 · 7 months

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With a Comma After Dearest, Part 3

part 1, part 2

Dear Robin,

Sorry the greeting isn’t more fun, I couldn’t think of one. Honestly, I don’t really expect a response from this letter at all. If we were to ignore it after I slide it through your locker, that would be fine by me. I don’t even know if I’ll give it to you, I just need to get this out.

I gave back Jonathan’s things today, in person. The original plan was to just drop it off at his doorstep and try not to see him. It would have been better for both of us if I stuck to that. Then I wouldn’t feel like shit.

Just seeing him again hurts. Not because I regret breaking up with him, but because I regret hurting him. I tried being friendly and he got mad. He asked me if we could just have space between us and maybe after that, we could be friends again. Which is fair, I guess. I was the one who broke it off, it makes sense that he doesn’t want to see me.

It hurts though. I knew that what we had was gone and that I didn’t think it was going to come back. I tried. While he was still here, I tried to rekindle what I felt for him before, but it didn’t work. All I could see him as now was a friend, that is how I loved him. And I didn’t want to string him along if I knew I felt that way. That was the right decision, wasn’t it?

After yesterday, I’m not so sure. He was so hurt. It made me feel so guilty, that I could do that to him. When we got together, we promised each other that we’d never be the ones to hurt each other. That we wouldn’t end up like our parents, we’d be better. But that isn’t how it ended. I broke up with him and left him hurt, which hurt me as well.

It just makes me question if I did the right thing.

Your friend,

Nancy

Robin finishes reading the letter as the first bell rings, carefully folding it up and sliding it in between some folders before sprinting off to class. She wasn’t expecting to get a letter, it was her turn to write one back. But those rules don’t really apply, she guesses.

Nancy’s pain transferred through the letter so easily. Robin could picture her writing it, furrowed brows and pursed lips. Rapid blinking as the tears try to escape, a slight shake of the hand traveling through, making wobbly lines in her cursive. Pulling out the letter again, she sees that one of the edges is wrinkled like it was wet but now dried.

She wished Nancy had called. Wished that she asked Robin to come over and they talked about it in person. It sounded like Nancy needed a person to talk to. A person to hold her while she cries, telling her that it would all be ok. It would be so easy for Robin to do that, just hold Nancy close while running her fingers through her curls. Whisper small assurances through the tears, be the safe space that Nancy needs.

Safe spaces are something that have become few and far between. She knows what it took for Steve to even be able to sleep in his bedroom after the first time around, never really telling her the reason. Saying something like it wasn’t fully his to tell, whatever that means. Dustin had said something about never being able to go down into his basement anymore. Houses have nightmares crawling through the walls and secrets no one dares to whisper. What once was a nice getaway in the woods, is now tainted debris that no one steps near.

Robin’s lucky. Her house, her room, was away from everything. Her first time around was in a building that no longer exists, and she lives right inbetween two of the faults the earthquake created. It stands the same as it has for years, and the safe space remains.

Well, as much as a safe space it can be for a mind that’s so filled with nightmares it barely can fall asleep. In the dark, shadows become monsters about to attack, and lamps become weapons. Or rather, anything that Robin can get her hands on. At least she can have the knowledge that nothing has happened in or remotely near her home. But that knowledge isn’t enough enough to assure her that it can’t ever be.

She wonders what it’s like for Nancy. Someone who keeps her secrets so far underneath her skin, that only those who really know her will ever see them. Even then, Robin’s sure that Nancy buries things and deals with them on her own. Normally that hurts more than it helps. It’s dangerous, going through something like this all alone. The thoughts that come from it can hurt much more than a wound itself. Guilt and fear are powerful tools of destruction.

Robin wants to let Nancy know that she’s safe. That she could keep a secret better than any lock and would be there for her, anytime, pretty much anywhere. Under the laws of her bicycle, that is. She’s a great friend, at least she likes to think so. Especially when people are hurting. A great listener is sometimes all a person needs.

. . .

My friend Nancy

Don’t feel bad about writing this or even giving this to me. It sounded like you needed it. And I’m here, that’s what friends are for, aren’t they?

I was surprised to get your letter this morning, it was kinda my turn to write to you. Beat me to it I guess. Not that I’m mad. It sounded like you needed it more than I did. I just complained about studying for my history test and asked if you had any tips. We probably have the same teacher anyway, we could have studied together. Unless that wouldn’t help you, I don’t even know if it would help me.

Too late for that I guess, I just took it. I’m actually writing this after I handed it in, I had an extra ten minutes. So if you take Mr. Nickel’s history class and you take it after reading this note, it wasn’t that bad. A lot of the questions kinda answered themselves if I’m being honest.

Anyway. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here. For anything really. I wish you had called me after this happened, or invited me over if you were ok with that. I know I can talk a lot, but I’m also a really great listener. I’m here for you, always no matter what. I want to be friends with you Nancy, and not just friends that see each other at school and never talk to each other again. I want to be close and have sleepovers and hour-long phone calls or whatever other shit that comes with being friends.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, call me next time. I want to be there for you, and I hope you do the same.

Your confidant,

Robin

Nancy smiles while reading the letter, feeling warm for some reason. She regretted sliding that letter through the slit of Robin’s locker, but now she’s glad she did. It’s easy to forget what having a friend can mean to you, the amount of warmth that it brings you. The comfort of just being known by someone who’s there for you.

It scares her, to be seen. Sometimes all Nancy wants is to fade away into the background, not be perceived by those around her, and just be. She’s never really been able to do that. Always puts her foot in the door and tries to stand higher than those around her. Making her voice heard even when they tell her to stop. Nancy Wheeler doesn’t just stop, she keeps moving, keeps talking, keeps rising.

Feelings can stop all of that though. They can hold you back to a time you don’t want to be in anymore. They make you weak, reduce you to what everyone thinks you are. If she showed her feelings when she worked at the Hawkins Post, she would be laughed at, ridiculed. If she were to show them now, she would be seen as the emotional girl who just went through a breakup. She’s so much more than what people think, so she learned how to hide her feelings to make herself stronger than those around her.

It’s hard though. Really hard. Sometimes when Nancy’s alone, she just lets it all go. Violently sobs into her pillow, or in the cover of a shower. No one is meant to see Nancy cry because then they would know that she’s not strong.

But Robin sounds like she wants to know. Wants to see all of Nancy without her holding back. Be a real friend, a best friend maybe.

Robin is already so much more than the people who have judged her. She’s already believed her shot-in-the-dark theories and went with her crazy plan to infiltrate a state penitentiary just to interview a supposed madman. And right before the big battle, when Nancy let her fear show just for a second, Robin only encouraged her. No judgment, just assurance that they had this. That Nancy was exactly who she was supposed to be, even in fear.

So maybe she should let Robin in. Call her next time, maybe even invite her over. Let herself be seen, be known. Feel that warmth that only a best friend can provide again. Let herself lower her guard.

. . .

Steve’s late, which is weird. He’s never been late to pick her up. Even when he works while she’s in school, he convinces Keith to give him a split shift so he can pick her up. He didn’t call this morning and tell her that he was busy. And she knows he doesn’t have work today. So where the fuck is he?

Robin sighs and leans up against the wall, resorting to waiting until he shows up. She could call, but if he’s already on his way, it’d be useless. So she’ll just wait, alone.

“Robin?” a soft voice next to her asks. When she turns her head, she finds Nancy, holding a folder to her chest.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hi. Waiting for someone?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes, Steve. Asshole’s late, which is weird because he never is so I guess I should be worried, but knowing him it’s probably for a stupid reason so that just makes me annoyed.”

“Sounds rough,” Nancy laughs.

“This is weird. Seeing you in person, I mean. It’s nice. Not that it’s not nice that we’ve been writing notes. I’ve kinda of been really enjoying it. It’s just weird because I got so used to talking to you through the notes and not in person. We should definitely start talking in person more, that way you don’t become just words in my mind, but like an actual person.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Nancy giggles. “Once I get these tests done, we can hang out.”

“Yes, we should,” Robin gets cut off by a car horn. Steve had pulled up while they were talking. She flips him, yelling, “Now you show up, dingus.”

“I’m only five minutes late!”

“Yeah, five minutes later than normal!”

“I had a good reason!”

She rolls her eyes again. “I’m sure,” she snarks, making Nancy laugh. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah, oh wait.” Nancy opens the folder she was holding and takes out a piece of folded paper. “Here. I meant to give it to you before school ended but I couldn’t make it in time.”

“Thanks, I’ll slide my next letter into your locker tomorrow. No beating me to it this time.”

“What if I have something important to tell you that just can’t wait?” She challenges.

“Then call me,” she smirks as she walks over to Steve’s car, waving to Nancy as she gets in.

“What was that about?” Eddie asks from the backseat, making her jump.

She whips her head around to find him lying in the backseat, hiding from view. “The fuck are you doing? You could have given me a heart attack.”

“Don’t get him started,” Steve sighs as he pulls away from the school.

“One,” Eddie raises a finger into the air. “I’m not cleared to go back to school for another two weeks, so I’ll be damned if they knew I was on campus before then. I’m not thinking about school before I have to. Two, got to scare you, didn't I?”

Robin turns her head back to the front. “You’re insufferable.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve mutters.

“Aww, but you love it, don’t you, Stevie?” Eddie sits up and pokes at Steve’s arm. Robin sees a slight blush spread across Steve’s face, choosing to ignore it.

“Why were you late?”

“Someone’s doctor’s appointment went longer than it should have. Care to explain?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You make it sound like it was some big thing.”

“Because it was some big thing,” Steve exclaims.

“You’re mom mode is showing,” Robin snarks, rummaging through the glove compartment for a snack.

Steve sighs. “Would you stop calling it that?”

“Don’t know. That tone with the prepared snacks in the car, seems pretty mom to me.”

“Would you just tell her why you made me late to pick her up,” Steve glares through the rearview.

Eddie dramatically sighs and leans back into the seat with his arms crossed. “Wayne picked up a few shifts to help a coworker out and since we just moved into that new place, there were still some things that needed to be unpacked. So, I tried to pick up a box from the ground that I thought was light, and I ended up pulling a muscle in my side and popping one of my stitches.”

“Eddie,” Robin yells. “That is so dangerous.”

“I thought it was light, ok! I would have unpacked it from the floor if I knew it was heavy.”

“You shouldn’t have been unpacking at all,” Steve says while pulling onto Eddie’s street. “You should have called me.”

Eddie huffs. “I can do things by myself again. You don’t have to treat me like I’m going to break.”

Steve pulls in front of Eddie’s house, putting the car into park. “I just don’t want you to-,”

“Thanks for the ride.” Eddie gets out of the car, slamming the door.

“Hurt yourself,” Steve finishes, looking defeated as Eddie walks up to his house.

Robin reaches across and rubs Steve’s shoulder. “He’ll apologize. He’s just adjusting.”

“I know,” Steve says, laying his forehead on the steering wheel. “I just want him to get better. To heal so I, so he doesn’t have to go through that again.”

She knows that he slipped up, that he knew she heard it. He knows that she saw the blush. Even though he hasn’t said anything about it, she knows this is bothering him. These feelings that he has, whatever they are, he’s not sharing. It’s worrying her. They talk about pretty much anything, but in the last few weeks, Steve’s been quiet. There’s something there she knows it, and she can help him through whatever it is.

“Steve, you know you can talk to me if-”

“Just stop, Rob. Just, stop. I know ok, I know. I just, I don’t even know what it is and I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to make it something it’s not,” he snaps

Robin removes her hand from his shoulder and just sits in her seat, letting the car fill with silence. She fiddles with the paper in her hand, folding it more and more before unfolding it and refolding it again. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped, I’m sorry.” He raises his head from the steering wheel, looking at her again.

“No, I shouldn’t push. Or joke about it, I’m sorry.”

“If I ever figure out what it is, I’ll tell you. You know that right.”

She turns her head, looking at him. “I know. I won’t joke about it again, ok.”

“Thank you.” He puts the car in drive and brings her home.

My friend Robin,

Thank you for reading my letter, and then being so kind about it. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to respond. We weren’t really friends when Jonathan still lived here or when we were long-distance, and even then, we weren’t dating that long once we became friends anyway. I just needed to vent, and you seemed like a good person to do it to.

I wanted to call, I did. I was two seconds from dialing your number and talking, but I couldn’t say it. It’s just one of those things that are so hard to even think that you can barely say it out loud. Otherwise, I would have, believe me.

Next time though, I’ll call you. Maybe then it’ll be easier for me to talk about it.

Keeping her promise this time,

Nancy

(P.S. I don’t know, I was just trying something)

Robin smiles as she reads Nancy’s words. Feeling warmth bubble up in her chest she reads them over again. Picturing Nancy in her mind, instead of just her voice. Brown curls danced along her shoulders and a soft smile. Blue eyes look her way, animated in a way that shows that Nancy is safe. That she feels safe to let them talk with her words instead of staying rigid.

It’s like Robin forgot about bits of Nancy, only remembering them when she saw her again. She wondered how much more she would find if they hung out again. This time without there being a doomsday clock hanging over their head. Maybe then Robin can notice more, and learn everything there is about Nancy.

Her heart starts to beat faster as the ideas travel in and out of her mind, without her even realizing it. She thinks about the things she and Nancy could do together. Sleepovers, movie nights. Everything she’s always wanted to have with someone close but never did. But what starts as an innocent friendship starts to morph into something more. Flashes of lingering touches and waking up tangled in each other and the sheets.

She sits up rapidly, throwing the letter across the room and willing it all to stop. This can’t happen to her, not now. Not ever. Nancy is just a friend, she can only be just a friend. They haven’t even had a proper friendship and Robin’s going to mess it all up before it even starts. Feelings can’t interfere, not with her. She won’t allow it.

Those thoughts, they were all a fluke. A response to not being close to another girl her age for a while. Grabbing on any straws she could to make herself hopeful for something that would never be there. Because Nancy can never be more than a friend.

. . .

Salutations Nancy,

I don’t know if I used that right, but It’s fancy and I don’t care. I kinda just need to vent about something and make sure that I don’t say too much, so here that is I guess.

Steve’s not telling me something. I know it. I know I shouldn’t be mad about it. It’s just something that I know I can help with, so I want to be there for him but he’s not letting me in.

What’s worse, is I know it’s hurting him. He’s doing this thing he does all of the time where he just bottles things up and deals with them on his own, thinking that he has to. But he doesn’t. He has people he can talk to. Me, Eddie now, you probably if that’s not too weird. He never wants to talk to Dustin about his problems, but they’re basically brothers at this point so he could if he wanted to. It’s just frustrating seeing him go through this alone.

I think he likes someone. Someone that’s not you, he’s over that weird moment he had with you over spring break that I personally think was just a fluke and a trauma response. But that is a conversation for another day. This someone is new, different from the people he’s normally into. And like different in a way that I would understand. But he doesn’t want to talk about it, so what am I supposed to do?

I know pushing is bad and I should just wait for him to tell me. And if I’m being honest, I will wait for him to tell me. If it was me that was in his situation, I would want that. But it’s just hard because I could just be someone to talk to. Help go through the feelings and what they mean.

This probably makes no sense for you and that was the goal. I’m entrusting you with half of this information while leaving out a big chunk of it to protect his privacy. I just needed to get it out somehow.

Thankful to have another friend who is not a child,

Robin

(P.S. If you were to burn this note after reading it, I would probably thank you.)

(P.P.S. Hope this wasn’t weird for you to be, him being your ex and all)

Nancy sets the note down on the table, brows furrowed. Something about it makes her feel off, but she’s not sure why. She presses her lips together and reads the note again, absentmindedly trying to read between the lines even though Robin probably didn’t want her to. It’s hard not to though, natural curiosity and all that. There was so much that was left out, that it’s easy for her to speculate.

She shouldn’t be though. Not about this. It seems private, sacred. Something that she shouldn’t have even known in the first place. But Robin trusted her with this. Like a friendship code where you were told a secret that should never be repeated, but you just had to tell that one person anyway. Nancy thought that Steve was the one person that Robin would spill all the secrets to, but she guessed she was wrong.

Or because this is about Steve, Robin had to go to her. That could easily be the reason for it, but something in Nancy wishes that it wasn’t true. That somehow in their minimal interactions, she had become a better friend than Steve is. Not that she’s competing. They have a bond that she doesn’t quite understand, but she doesn’t have to. It’s interesting to observe, the way they act with each other. At first glance, you would think they were dating, or about to be. That was her first impression after all. But after learning about them, they’re more like siblings. It makes Nancy happy that they have someone like that.

It’s not surprising to hear that Robin is worried about Steve. So that can’t be the reason she’s upset. Maybe it’s because Steve likes someone, that’s not her. Even though that thought makes her happy more than anything else. She’s always felt bad looking at him, seeing him go home alone more times than he was with someone. It always rooted itself around in her mind to be her fault. That he couldn’t get over her, so he just never dated again, even though she knew that wasn’t true.

It was a hard time for her, a hard time for him too. She shouldn’t feel bad for that, it was out of her control. It’s impossible to plan to lose what she did. What she could have done, though, was treat him differently. At least in the end. Apologized for what she said in the bathroom, even if it had an heir of truth. She doesn’t regret breaking up with him, she didn’t feel the same for him as he did for her. But the way she did it, could have been better.

But now he likes someone else, or at least Robin thinks so. Nancy hopes that he does. Hopes that whatever lingering feelings he had for her are gone and he can move on. What he said to her over spring break felt like a confession, but looking at it from the right angle, it could have been him finally letting go. Maybe it didn’t feel like that at the moment, but maybe that’s what it felt like now.

So what about this letter is making Nancy feel so weird? Her eyes are drawn to the scribble in the middle of the page, a line that Robin didn’t want her to read. A secret that Nancy doesn’t know. One that Robin doesn’t want her to know.

It shouldn’t upset her, really. They were just beginning their friendship, she couldn’t know everything about Robin this early on. And she would never expect Robin to trust her with everything right off the bat. But it still hurts a little.

Nancy feels close to Robin, for a reason that she’s still a little unsure of but doesn’t care. There is something about Robin that makes Nancy trust her with anything, everything. She’s already told Robin so much more than she would a normal friend. Feelings that normally would just fester until they went away, or they didn’t.

But when she thinks about it, there are still some things that Nancy hasn’t told Robin about. So it’s hypocritical to be a little bit upset that there was something that Robin is keeping a secret.

Maybe with time, Robin would feel comfortable telling her. And maybe in time, Nancy can tell Robin her secrets too. But trust takes time, friendship takes time. Although Nancy trusts Robin and is friends with her, some secrets just take their time to come out. That is something she understands, so she’s willing to wait.

. . .

Robin spies Nancy walking to her next class. She thinks about going up to her, walking with her for a little bit even though she has to go in the opposite direction. But she can’t do it, because something is different.

It’s there again, the patter of her heart that was there yesterday. Noticing small things about Nancy that she didn’t before. Remembering things that she picked up on, but never paid too much attention to. The small bounce her curls would do when she walked, the sway of her skirt with each step. The way she would press her lips together when she thought, and the wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows. Her determined eyes that would turn soft whenever they looked Robin’s way.

She has to stop it before it grows, otherwise, Robin is fucked.

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #background steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #note passing au #with a comma after dearest fic #part 3 #multi part fic #angst #pining #getting together #friends to lovers

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sotwk · 4 months

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hello! I hope this message finds you well.

I wanted to reach out to you to express my gratitude for being you. In my eyes, you truly are a Naneth in the LOTR fandom and it means so much. Fandoms are places where people some to relax and heal as well as enjoy the creation of stories and characters. I find that most of us have felt lost or hurt in some aspect of our lives. And honestly, I feel as if we occasionally need a mom that won’t judge us and would support us. I don’t know you as well as I would like, but I do see you as that person in this fandom. You feel safe to me. I appreciate you creating the space for people to feel cared for and comforted.

With much love,

An anon who values you 🩷

Darling Anon,

This could possibly be the sweetest and most gratifying message I have received in the entire 15 months of my Tumblr existence. <3 Bless your heart for taking the time to tell me these things!

Everything you said helps justify the amount of time I spend online, writing fanfic, and just hanging out here. I am at a life stage where adult responsibilities (my career, my husband and kids) need to take priority. I am 38 now, but I have been writing fanfic (on paper!) since I was about 10, and engaging in online fandom communities since I was 16 (with dial-up internet!). Online fandom spaces were a refuge for me during the most challenging periods of my life.

Even though my life is pretty great now (though not without its pains and heartaches!), I can never outgrow or leave the things that give me the most comfort: creative writing, my favorite fandoms, and online friends. These have always been very therapeutic for me, so I believe they've grown vital to my mental well-being!

The "Naneth"/"Nana"/Online Mom title was started by my dear friend Callon @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog when she remarked that I reminded her of her mom, and our other friends from SHHEEP just kind of picked up the nickname as well. As a real mom, I wish everyone could have a loving relationship with their own mothers (I truly believe all moms have genuine, fierce love for their children in their hearts--but moms are fragile humans just like everyone else, life is rough, and things can go very wrong sometimes). But whenever that is not possible, I am more than happy to act as a stand-in to whoever wants that support.

I do strive to make my blog a safe space for everyone (so it would only ever block "bad vibes"), because we have all suffered enough, and there is enough stress and fighting out there everywhere else. HERE, we just come to have fun and be silly and share and exchange things that give us joy and offer each other comfort. We all just want to be carefree kids again who can make friends with anybody in an instant--that's what we all have in common and that's all that matters in the end.

Thank you again for your kind message, Anon! I appreciate YOU so very much and I hope you have a wonderful start to your new year! <3

#sotwk answers #anon asks #i have the best anons #anon kindness #sotwk naneth #nana stuff #fandom #lotr

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multiplicity-positivity · 1 year

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Hii im a newly discovered system and I cant see into headspace clearly yet so would you happen to have any advice on how to see headspace?

Hey. We’re also a “newly” discovered system (if you count knowing about our system for around 2 years to be new), and the way our headspace works is really complicated. I feel like it can vary from system to system. Also we’re a DID system, so if you’re not trauma-formed, our headspaces may work totally differently. Still, we’ll talk a bit about how we see our headspace.

First of all, I say “we” but I’m the only one in the system who doesn’t have even partial access to the headspace. I’ve seen it once or twice, when a few members of my system worked hard to describe/show it to me, but I don’t really ever exist there. When I’m not fronting, I tend to be suspended in stasis until I front again. That’s just how our system works. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the headspace.

Our headspace consists of a few areas. There is one area which has existed for nearly our whole life. It made up of a pair of houses (the ones we grew up in) and we had no hand in creating it or bringing it about. I guess it works as a visualization tool, but we have lots of parts who are stranded or trapped there, reliving trauma memories and unable to access the rest of us. Through treatment we’re working on understanding this area of our headspace and reaching out to the parts who are stuck there.

The rest of our headspace was consciously created by a few members of our system. It exists as a place outside of the homes we were abused in, so that those of us who are able to communicate with each other can have a space to exist inside that isn’t re-traumatizing. Again, I don’t really go there, but I know enough about it from existing in my system for a while haha.

It was made using visualization tools and imagination. It’s a fantasy, made up of things my alters think about. We don’t view our headspace as a physical place, but to my alters, it still feels like a physical place when they’re there. We’ve always had a very active imagination, so it never really took much work or focus for my alters to put up a headspace.

From what I understand, it started by Kiki and Toby just… imagining what a safe space would be like for us. The more times they imagined the same thing, the easier it was to picture it. Eventually, an area would just stick around, even when they weren’t actively thinking about it. At that point, the imagined idea became a part of the headspace.

Some systems just don’t have headspaces. Some systems have always had a headspace. Some systems have to consciously work to make a headspace. Some systems have a vague or partial headspace, and have to do visualizing and imagining to fill it out. Every system is different, so seeing into the headspace may be a very personal thing for your system.

There used to be a blog on Tumblr that posted headspace inspiration. I really don’t know the @ or else I’d tag them. Using Pinterest and searching for inspiration online can be a great way to figure out what you’d like in a headspace. Then it’s just a matter of spending some time focusing on it, imagining it, and fleshing it out inside. I’m sorry we don’t have any resources on helping you achieve this… but we wish you luck nevertheless!

💫 Parker

#headspace #inner world #system headspace

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ahungeringknife · 6 months

Text

365: May 26

There was an air of suspicion when Eramis stepped onto the ketch's throne. Her reputation preceded her and not a few members of the outfit obviously kept her in their rifle sights as she walked up to the Baron waiting at the end of the room. Other than herself and the Baron no one else wore breathing masks. A testament to the wealth and ability of the outfit. There was no ether rationing here.

"That's close enough," Preksik said, still sitting, when Eramis came within ten feet of his throne. A display put on just for her. She didn't need to know that.

Eramis bowed before him, all four arms out, spreading out her cape so everyone could see she had indeed come empty handed as she'd been ordered to board the Lucent Dawn. "Baron Preksik the Scarred," she said in deference to him. "A reputation remembered even out here."

Next to him Braldos tsked. She held her rifle half lowered. Preksik didn't have to look to know his sister was rolling her eyes. "Eramis, the Shipstealer. What have you come to my outfit for?"

She gathered herself up and thankfully spoke directly. "We are making a new home, a new Riis, on Europa. I have come to see if you wish to be apart of something greater than... this," her tone turned patronizing at the end.

Preksik looked over at his grandson who was also his aide. "Which one is that?" he asked Geviks.

"Moon of Jupiter. Icy. Highly radioactive because of its thin atmosphere so it's constantly bombarded by space radiation," Geviks said simply. "An irresponsible place to create a colony," he stared at Eramis.

Eramis growled. "It is a place machine spawn do not go. It is safe for our kind," she said empathetically.

Preksik just chuckled. "If you think that you're a fool," he said. "There is nowhere the Lightbearers do not go in their own system. Just because they are not there now doesn't mean they will never go."

"Wouldn't you want your children to not be born and live in a ship their entire lives?" Eramis pressed.

"The outfit's children do not suffer."

"We were not made to live our life on ships."

"And yet we always have. Even on Riis. Tall ships and skimmers were more popular then I believe?" he said casually and though she wore a mask he knew her eyes went wide. He leaned forward, putting a hand on his knee. "What is it you want, Eramis? Are you seeking backing from the only unaffiliated outfit in the system not involved with Spider or the pirate crews? Do you need ether? Food? Clothes? Bodies?"

She held her lower hands out to him. "Perhaps friendship-

He laughed. "No." He leaned back in his throne as the Eliksni in the room also laughed. "No my outfit will not give you that. The rumors of your nature reach us even out here in the Oort cloud. We have had too many masters. You will not be the next."

"That isn't what I said."

"And who will lead Riis?" Preksik asked calmly. "You?" Eramis said nothing. He chuckled. "No. We will serve no Kell ever again."

"And yet you style yourself as one, masquerading like a Baron," Eramis said, anger getting the better of her. She refused to flinch at the low growl that came out of every Eliksni in the room.

"There are no Houses here, Eramis. No Kells. Now tell me what you want before I decide you have used all your good will of being Baron Viksis' friend once upon a time and I space you for your rudeness." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne boredly. He wasn't intimidated by Eramis. He also had the biggest fleet outside of a proper House in the system. She could do nothing to him.

"If friendship is beyond our grasp," she meant it as for both of them. Annoying but admirable. "Then any supplies you are willing to spare: ether, food, building materials. We will build Riis again with or without you."

"It will certainly be without," Preksik said mildly. "Geviks have eight hundred canisters of our reserve ether sent to Eramis' ship." He looked her over. "And whatever spare ration boxes the Mechanist has in reserve."

"All of it?" Geviks asked.

"Half of it," Preksik allowed. That was a lot and he didn't love Eramis. "What is the state of metal sheets on the Sun Skimmer?"

Geviks looked at it on his tablet. "Five hundred tons," Geviks said.

"Have half of it sent as well. What of wiring? No matter, send half of that as well."

Eramis stood there stunned. "You are very generous, Baron," she said.

"It is a one time donation, Eramis. Do not ask for more. Do not return. As soon as you step off my ship if you return or attempt to board you will be shot on sight," Preksik said like he was discussing the state of this year's harvest. "I am not doing this for you but to satiate my own guilt should I do nothing while you lead those Eliksni to a death world to create a mimicry of our lost homeworld. At least when it all turns to ash in your hands I will know I did what I could to spare you."

"It will not fail," Eramis insisted.

"For your sake and the sake of your House I hope so. Gaviks send out a broadcast of what Eramis is doing. If anyone wishes to leave with her they may." He looked at Eramis critically. "My outfit supports who they want and nothing more, Eramis," he said.

"A gracious gift," Eramis bowed slightly.

"Quartermaster, escort Eramis back to her ship. Make sure all the supplies are loaded and she leaves promptly," Preksik said, leaning to one side of the throne. "We will not meet again, Eramis."

"And yet we leave almost as friends," she said, extending a hand.

"No. I just know you're less trouble alive than dead. Now return to your ship and await your charity," and he waved her off. Braldos stepped down and joined Eramis. Quietly she guided Eramis out and the door closed behind them.

It was quiet again in the throne room. Then Preksik activated a monitor attached to his throne, the holographic display appeared before him. "Fek," he said. Fek was a Captain who ran the bridge.

"Yes, sir?"

"Have all guns pointed at Eramis' ship. I want no disturbances."

"Already done, sir. And I had the ketches without guns to move deeper into the Oort."

"Very good. As you were," and he closed the holographic display and stood up. "And the rest of you; as you were," and everyone relaxed and the door opened as they left the throne world, the charade completed.

"Paps," Gaviks said slowly as Preksik also headed out.

"Yes? Actually before you say anything, don't tell your grandfather I did that," he said to Gaviks. Viksis would be annoyed.

"Oh-- yes... that was what I was going to ask," Gaviks said with a wince.

"Just wait until she leaves. I'll deal with him," Preksik sighed as he stepped out of the throne room.

"Right. Well I need to go make that broadcast. I think that will let him know what you did," Gaviks reminded him.

Preksik sighed. "Right. Wait like ten minutes," and Gaviks nodded. That was long enough to find Viksis and distract him almost indefinitely. Viksis had been complaining about wanting another baby now that their latest one was grown by a few decades. He could keep his mate distracted easily. Long enough that by the time he found out to scold Preksik Eramis and her crew would be long gone.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #eramis #eliksni #the fallen #fallen #original eliksni #Preksik #Braldos

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redrisingsun · 1 year

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as a fellow hayffie stan i would love you know your take on how they get together either pre or post the rebellion!

idk why i just feel as if they never really ✨get together✨ that's just how they are <3 thank you so much for this!!

Night has fallen outside when Haymitch jerks awake. The television is still on and a screaming girl has woken him. Her hands are soaked in her own blood, and the sight makes the old scar burn. He reaches for the remote and turns the sound off, but leaves the screen flickering. The fire the girl has started illuminates the sleeping woman next to him.

She looks younger, like this. The makeup has been wiped from her face, the wig left in her room and the extravagant dress swapped for a soft satin set, seafoam in color. The sharp lines she creates with the face paint are softer now, round and gentle.

Haymitch has the mouthful of burning liquor left in his hip flask before he stands.

It’s strange, how this has almost become a sort of routine for them. They both sit down to watch the Games, after supper. In a quiet moment, she will almost always slip away to shower and brush her teeth, change her daywear to something to sleep in. He never does, doubts she’d let him even if he wanted to, and keeps an eye on the screen the entire time. When she returns, she often brings warm milk with honey. It’s the only time he ever sees her do it herself, without the help of anyone else. Though, Haymitch supposes someone might help her in the kitchen.

They watch until they fall asleep.

Haymitch struggles to sleep even during the best of times, and the Games always bring terrible memories and nightmares. Even the quietest of sounds wakes him up, even after all these years.

She’s nowhere near as easy to wake. She’s only had to shake him awake once since she took the job. It was the second year before she was comfortable enough to wash the paint from her face and change into her loungewear in front of him. She’d had tears in her eyes and mumbled something about how the girl wouldn’t make it.

When his flask is empty, Haymitch stands. He bends over her and carefully picks her up, holds her to his chest like one would a child. Her head rests against his shoulder and in a moment of weakness, he brushes his nose against the top of her head. Her floral perfume lingers, even after the shower, and mixes with the citrus soap she uses.

Like this, she reminds him of her. The one Snow took from him. The girl whose face has faded, and is just a blur of memories in the back of his mind. Though, her body had been stiff and cold the last time he carried her.

Effie Trinket is warm and soft in his arms, and her heavy breathing is the only thing that reminds him she’s alive.

Her room is dark and the bed has been made. Even though Effie is almost weightless in his arms, it’s half a struggle to push the covers away enough to make space for her.

She stirs in his arms when he lies her down. He drapes the covers over her body.

A silent moment follows. He watches her breathing, watches as her chest expands and deflates. A lock of hair has escaped her neat hairdo and he brushes it from her forehead.

It was so much easier before her. Before her, he had been determined not to let anyone else close again. People he cared for died. He was the reason people he cared for died. It was easiest not to let anyone too close, to hold everyone at an arm’s length. Snow couldn’t possibly hurt him if he didn’t have anyone.

And, then… Effie’s made him soft around the edges. He tries not to see the tributes as animals meant for slaughter anymore, tries to prepare them for their death. For her sake.

It’s foolish, but some part of him thinks she’s safe because of her close relationship with the President. Some part of him wants, wishes, hopes that President Snow would never harm his own family.

When Haymitch reaches the door, her voice breaks the silence. Like everything else about her, it’s softer now. Her accent isn’t quite as prominent, the usual high pitch is something an octave lower.

“Haymitch?”

He turns, leans against the doorframe. His eyes have adjusted to the dark and the low light from the corridor behind him gives him enough light to see her. She has rolled over to her side and she watches him.

“Will you stay with me?”

He opens his mouth as if to reply, but he’s so perplexed by the question that nothing leaves his mouth. Instead, he carefully closes the door behind him and returns to her bedside. She reaches out a hand, tangles their fingers together, and scoots further back on the massive bed.

Haymitch, at least, has the foresight to take his boots off before he joins her. She moves close enough to bury her face against his throat and wraps one arm around his middle, making sure the heap of blankets and covers lands on top of him as well.

With somewhat tense shoulders, he wraps his own arms around her tiny waist and brings her closer. He buries her nose in her hair.

It’s impossible to say how long has passed when Haymitch’s shoulders finally drop and the tension he always feels seeps out of him like blood from a wound. He doesn’t close his eyes, he’s determined to stay awake and commit every second to his memory, entirely sure she must have fallen back asleep.

Like so many times before, she proves him wrong. She pulls away from him, meets his eyes, and gives him the most gentle smile he has ever seen on her lips.

When she leans closer, her eyes slip close again. The kiss is a quick brush of their lips, one that leaves his head spinning and lips burning.

“Now, please, Mister Abernathy, will you try to sleep?”

It’s the first time in years, decades, that sleep comes easy.

#ask #anon #my writing #hayffie

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