#ago truly have no bearing on our current reality. incredible

[thecooler]

I went to my ten year high school reunion yesterday and had a really nice time overall. Im much more outgoing now than I was then so I ended up talking to a lot of people, most of whom I didn't know at all in school. And what struck me most I think is how not a single person I talked to was where they thought they'd be in their life. No one had the job they thought they'd have, many people dropped out of college, and while there were a couple married people there were far more who were single and struggling to get back into dating, or who had gone through recent breakups.

I went into the event pretty self-assured. I don't have the job I thought I'd have but I live with good people, and have a partner who makes me happy. But I was still a little worried that everyone else would be more "together" than me, but I think when it came down to it we were all just messy 20-somethings getting wine drunk in the back yard of a pub . Overall very positive experience for me

[theteddylupinexperience]

The Concert | Dio Morrissey x f!reader

AN: not a lot to say about this one, aside from the fact that I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. I always love the “best friend’s younger sister” trope, and who better to do it with than our goth king himself. Thanks as always to @pascalpanic for hyping me up and listening to me rant about mosh pits. Enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, kissing, super mild punk show related violence, brief anxiety mention, Dio is a little cringey but you like it

“Kiddo, you’re not even gonna have fun,” your brother swears, “this band is harsh no doubt, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“As sweet as your over protection is, you’re not ditching me tonight,” you roll your eyes. Your brother is sitting on your bathroom counter watching you get ready for the concert he promised a month ago he’d take you to. You know his concern comes from a genuine place, you’d only gotten into the goth scene fairly recently, and long time fans can be really intense with “virgins.”

“Hey, uh, is Shane gonna be there?” you ask, casually as you can manage. You attempt to continue with your black eyeshadow to avoid eye contact with your brother, but he sees right through you anyways.

“First of all, you have to call him Dio while we’re in public. You are not killing the vibe on your induction night. Second of all, gross. I’m sitting right here. Drool over my best friend on your own time.” Your brother pokes your forehead with one of your makeup brushes in a scolding manor.

“Okay well first of all,” you start, “this is my time because this is my bathroom. And second of all… do YOU have any weird nickname I should be aware of before I, and I quote, kill the vibe?”

Your brother flushes slightly, looking at the ground before answering, “Uh, it’s Ghost, actually.”

You narrow your eyes at him, biting back a laugh at how ridiculous he looks, bright red ears contrasting the Doc Martens currently kicking against the floor.

“Dio and… Ghost?” He just nods, looking up at you finally.

“Well alright, my knights in dirty ass Tripp pants.” The comment earns you a laugh, and you feel a small swell of pride rise in your chest. For as insufferable as you found each other a lot of the time, your older brother really was like your best friend. His group of friends had stuck together since middle school, and had absolutely taken you under their wing when you’d let yourself really fall into your darker side. Tonight was your first real night out with everyone, and you couldn’t pretend to be more nervous. You had known your brother’s best friend Shane, Dio, since you were in third grade and had always found him fascinating. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, tall and lean, always wearing a leather trench coat that accentuates those features. Full, plush lips, and deep brown eyes that you want to get lost in. Just as you find yourself actually getting lost in the thought of Dio, you’re startled back to reality when your brother turns your hair dryer on and blows it in your face.

“Yo, kid, did I lose you? We gotta go,” in your trance he’s managed to get his hair done and a subtly cool amount of eyeliner. You can only hope not to look like a child, or god forbid a drone, next to him and his friends. “Don’t be nervous, just get your shoes on.”

When you get your boots laced up, you give yourself one last glance in the mirror, fluffing your hair to make it look less obviously styled, and run out the door.

When you arrive at the venue, if you could call it that, it looks more like a rundown warehouse, the music is already in full swing. “The openers always fuckin’ suck, kid,” your brother had told you, “we always show up at least an hour late.”

You’re rocking nervously on your heels, stuck to the ground where your brother had told you to wait while he found the group and brought them over to you. You smile widely when you see them approaching you, but are quick to cover it with what you hope is a cool smirk. Out of place doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel, it would be more accurate to say you’re on a different plane of existence. You’ve managed to transcend discomfort and now have settled into a calmer state.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Wednesday Addams herself,” a deep voice calls out from the head of the pack.

“Hey Sh- uh, Dio,” you stammer as the king himself puts his hands on your shoulders to inspect your outfit. Your stomach drops when he brushes some hair from your face. “You look good. Like you put some thought into how you look, unlike the rest of these drones.” Your face lights up at his praise, and flushes quickly when he winks at you.

Your group makes their way towards the front of the stage when you hear the headlining band announced. The first few songs go off without a hitch, the crowd moves in a seething, pulsing way to the music, and you find yourself moving along with them. You catch Dio’s eyes a couple times to find him already looking at you, his expression relaxed and amused, but his eyes dark as he takes in everything around him. You’re about to walk over and ask him to dance with you when you hear from the stage, “Alright everybody, let’s open this fucking pit!”

Your eyes widen briefly, but you try your best to stay cool in front of your brother and his friends. You can only imagine how lame Dio would find you if you lost your cool because of some moshing. Unfortunately, in your attempt to save face, you’ve distracted yourself to the people around you and find yourself getting shoved, almost to the ground. Your brother hurries over and helps you up, and you assure him you’re fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle. He keeps his grip on you a moment longer, and ruffles your hair before jumping into the circle pit himself. You do your best to keep dancing around, staying away from everyone jumping and shoving each other as much as you can, and for a few minutes you’re surprisingly successful.

The next song that plays is even more intense than the last, and you find yourself crowded against the stage trying to stay away from everything. Your heart rate quickens, and you can feel an anxiety attack trying to creep its way up your spine. You look around desperately, searching for your brother so you can beg him to take you home, when a hand on your shoulder startles you.

Warm brown eyes search your own, “Didn’t mean to scare you, darling, but do you want to get out of here?”

You nod up at Dio, and he takes your hand, guiding you in front of him towards a side door. One of his hands rests protectively against the small of your back, and you shudder at the warmth. You’re outside, the air is cool against the sweat on your skin, and yet Dio’s hand never leaves yours.

“D’you wanna sit?” He gestures to a bench resting against the side of the building.

“I-” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat to find some volume, “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment while you catch your breath, you can feel Dio’s eyes boring into you, but can’t bear to look at him. “God, I’m so sorry, Shane,” you whisper, “Er, Dio, fuck, sorry again.”

“Don’t apologize, darling, it’s just you and me out here.” You finally dare to look up, and he’s smiling gently at you, holding both of your hands in one of his, and rubbing the other soothingly up your back. “I know the first time can be intense, to say the least. It’s a madhouse in there, and those fucking drones don’t know any better than to push everyone around. It should be a crime to scare or shove anyone as perfect as you.”

You huff out a strangled laugh at his words, and move your hands to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he starts, and his grip on your back tightens when disappointment crosses your features, “and because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. If someone as ethereal as you will even allow me in your presence, I have done something right.”

You turn your body towards him completely, searching his face. The strong, confident, devil may care Dio from inside is nothing compared to the patient, sweet, borderline insecure Shane you’re talking to out here. You reach your hand up to caress his face, smoothing down his dyed black curls, tracing your thumb against his full bottom lip. Shane melts into your touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at the contact, the heat of your skin against his feels more powerful than the sun at this moment. When you run your thumb nail against the sensitive skin behind his ear, his eyes snap open.

“Can I- would you… would you be mad if I kissed you?” He asks, his voice shy, but his eyes full of want.

‘I’ll be mad if you don’t,” you laugh incredulously. Shane places one hand against your jaw, and the other one slides up your back to rest in your hair. The cool metal of his rings feels electric, but nothing could compare to the jolt you feel when his lips meet yours. He’s soft, so much gentler than you imagined he’d be, and he takes his time losing himself in the feeling of your lips moving against his. He pulls away too soon, and you grab the front of his jacket to pull him back to you.

This kiss is not as gentle, but it is equally as sweet and intoxicating. His hand tightens on your scalp, and his tongue presses against the seam of your lips. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. He tastes like clove cigarettes and Jaeger, and it’s fucking incredible. He’s more perfect than your wildest dreams of him, and the low moan he lets out when you scratch your nails up his back makes you reconsider everything you’ve ever thought about heaven.

Eventually you have to breathe, so you pull back just a bit and rest your forehead against his. “Wow,” you manage to get out. Shane laughs, the sound is more musical than anything you’ve heard tonight.

“Wow is correct, my darling, you are truly more ethereal than I could have fathomed.” He kisses you again, softly on the lips, and then places another on your cheek. “Do you think I could take you out for real sometime soon?”

You bite your lip to prevent a giddy smile from breaking across your face, and nod quickly. “I actually found this record store with its own coffee shop a couple towns over, we could check that out, maybe? I mean, I’ve liked you since freshman year, so anything you want to do would be perfect. You’re perfect, Dio.”

His ears flush an adorable pink, and he smiles almost shyly up at you. “Shane,” he says, “Call me Shane.”

You beam up at him, “Shane.”

He stands up, takes your hand, and leads you back into the concert venue. Walking arm in arm with the king, you feel like you could jump right in the middle of that mosh pit and come out on top. Shane guides you back to your friends, and you try not to get overwhelmed by the stares and whispers when people see you together. Your brother catches a glimpse of you, his eyes drop down to where your hand is connected with Shane’s, and you brace yourself for an obnoxious or over protective comment.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

[changyang-cloud]

falling to our demise - cloud_wanderer

Summary: Mo Xuanyu should have never gotten the chance to meet Prince Hua, Nie Huaisang, much less fall in love with him. Seven years after entering the prince's manor as his fourth mistress, he commits suicide, much to the despair of Nie Huaisang. Desperate for any chance to see his beloved again, Nie Huaisang finds a way to go back in time to keep Mo Xuanyu from ever being hurt in the first place.

tw for no happy ending, mentions of suicide and self-harm (but no graphic depictions)

Chapter 1: Sometimes Love Brings You Flowers

Mo Xuanyu was not “engaged,” even if that’s one some people would say. Many others would argue adamantly against it. He himself also knew that “engagement” was far to proper a word for what he had with his beloved, the younger brother of the current Emperor, Prince Hua Nie Huaisang.

 If it weren’t for how dearly the Emperor cared for said brother, even something as tentative as this so-called “engagement” wouldn’t have seen the light of day. Nie Huaisang was the Prince Hua, a refined and charismatic gentleman. Any woman would fall for him, as many already had. Even since the prince promised his heart to poor Mo Xuanyu, who couldn’t even be given the honor of carrying his father’s name, he had brought three other women into his manor. Not a betrayal to their love, he would assure. They were all carried out for political reasons which Mo Xuanyu couldn’t understand.

 But despite this, and despite their ages and ranks and basically the entire world seeming against them, it had happened… tentatively. Because the Empero did spoil his brother that much, and Mo Xuanyu knew firsthand how persuasive Nie Huaisang could be.

 He remembered when Nie Huaisang had first come to tell him the news, weeks before anything official could even be decided, and still a year before Mo Xuanyu would even be of the age to entertain the idea of marriage. He had come through the window, with the most charming smile decorating those lips of his. He had layed next to Mo Xuanyu and kissed his cheek and mumbled a thousand promises with only them and the moon as witness.

 It was not an “engagement,” but Mo Xuanyu believed in Nie Huaisang’s luck, if he didn’t believe in his own.

 Which he did not in the slightest, not after growing up in the Jin Manor surrounded by dozens of his recognized half-brothers and half-sisters, each bearing the name Jin and a vermillion mark between their brows.

 While Nie Huaisang may have been concubine-born, he was still beloved by the late Emperor and the current one, and his standing could not be marred by his birth. Mo Xuanyu, on the other hand, wasn’t even that. Didn’t have that. The best he had was his mother, who loved him, and maybe some of his half-siblings who at the very least didn’t beat him up. He was the son of a servant, worth less than even the lowest ranking Jin in the household.

 What more need be said of how they were clearly of two different worlds? That they had even come to meet, any respectable Jin would say, was an embarrassment to the entire clan. Mo Xuanyu could remember the ladies of the family gossipping when he was younger, and speaking of how they would marry the second prince, among other nobility. Vaguely, he remembered one of the elder ones being suggested as Nie Huaisang’s legal spouse, however the offer had been refused.

 And if they refused the fourth lady, why would they accept little Mo Xuanyu? It was only common sense!

 But Nie Huaisang didn’t tend to live by common sense. He was willful and creative, he wasn’t hard-working or strong like the other young masters that everyone admired, he was effortless in his beauty, and ruthless in his heart.

 Ruthless? No, that wasn’t quite right, Mo Xuanyu thought. Not the Nie Huaisang that he knew. Effortless? Beautiful? Creative? All resounding “yes”s, but ruthless? Surely not the man who’s eyes sparkled when they landed on this useless servant’s son. Surely not the man who spoke to him as if he mattered. Surely not the man who held him like he deserved to be protected. Surely they were mistaken…?

 Nevertheless, Mo Xuanyu, too, could not resist his charm, beauty, and kindness. How could anyone? he thought.

 A year passed, and Mo Xuanyu came of age. For the first time in his life, his father looked at him. Not fondly. Not even with mild interest. But he looked at Mo Xuanyu.

 A wedding date was set. It was an auspicious day, even if the wedding was to be a quiet one, without all the bells and whistles that would be afforded to a wedding of the prince’s legal wife. For the first time, his family spoke to him as if they cared. They didn’t, he knew. Even if he was just being used to garner more power for the Jin family, even if those well-wishes were all fake, Mo Xuanyu couldn’t help but feel something. It wasn’t happiness, per se--not if happiness was like what he felt when Nie Huaisang kissed the back of his hand, smiling up at him with a mischievous grin--but it was something outside of despair, so it was good.

 He bid goodbye to his mother, the only person he was sad to leave. He had asked Nie Huaisang before if she could come too, or at least leave the Jins after he was no longer there to look after her. He had promised he would try his best, and his best was always something incredible, Mo Xuanyu thought, so she would at least be safe.

 For the entire ride to Nie Huaisang’s residence, Mo Xuanyu couldn’t contain himself. He picked at the dead skin on his fingers, grinning madly. He just couldn’t believe that this was truly happening.

 Everything in his vision was red, from the carriage to his clothes to every single decoration on the hall where he was finally let out. He stumbled ungracefully out of the carriage, dizziness and excitement making his legs feel weak. The remaining steps he took as confidently as he could. This was a good thing in his life, he thought. Things will be better from here on out.

 He may have been naive, but his optimism would not be so easily snuffed. Nie Huaisang was as beautiful dressed in red as Mo Xuanyu had imagined, and his words were as sweet. For that day, Mo Xuanyu felt like falling in love all over again.

 Life in Prince Hua’s manor was an adjustment for sure, but not one Mo Xuanyu was wholly unprepared for. Besides, the ever-innattentive Nie Huaisang was more than ready to spend long days at his beloved’s side, doing no more than admiring the gardens or painting in the study. For ensuing months, Mo Xuanyu could describe himself as content with this life, if not happy.

 What Mo Xuanyu didn’t realize was how much Nie Huaisang was helping him with, and protecting him from. When his trip to visit his brother lasted much longer than expected, he was forced to leave Mo Xuanyu alone for another two nights. When he returned, he found his beloved bedridden. Every doctor he called saying they could only wait it out.  

 Wait it out they did, and Mo Xuanyu recovered rather quickly. Although still weak, he spent several long nights after that assuring his husband that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He had just caught a cold, was all.

 Nie Huaisang gave him a skeptical look, but it was quickly replaced by a sweet smile and sad eyes, whispers of how much he had worried, and how much he loved Mo Xuanyu.

 Mo Xuanyu could only sigh. This Prince Hua. He really was more soft-hearted than anyone seemed to know.

 It wasn’t for several more months that Mo Xuanyu fell ill again, in the height of winter as snow made travel impossible. To call for another doctor was fruitless, while the cold weather made Mo Xuanyu’s recovery achingly slow. The whole time, Nie Huaisang all but refused to leave his side. The only reason he didn’t refuse, was that no one dared ask.

 This was the instance that finally tore off the rose-coloured veil that had covered Mo Xuanyu’s eyes since his wedding. When he finally returned to full health at the onset of spring, he was no longer oblivious to the reality of his new life.

 If it weren’t for Nie Huaisang’s favor, he wouldn’t have survived this long in a world like this. He wouldn’t let his lover know his struggle, of course, but the smile that had been glued to his lips since he’d first come to this place started to fade in his absence.

 Life-threatening situations became more and more common for Mo Xuanyu, more and more frequent. He could no longer pretend it wasn’t deliberate. He could see the anger in his beloved’s eyes now, as he knelt beside Mo Xuanyu’s bed. After he reassured Nie Huaisang with a million soft words and layed down to rest, he would stay awake to hear the distant yelling and scolding.

 He couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist anymore.

 If it weren’t for Nie Huaisang’s favor, Mo Xuanyu finally began to realize, he wouldn’t be hanging on to the last threads of his life right now.

 When Mo Xuanyu recovered once again, Nie Huaisang wanted to stay by his side. He probably thought it was the only way to protect him, and once upon a time, Mo Xuanyu would have thought the same.

 It wasn’t easy. But Mo Xuanyu started to avoid Nie Huaisang whenever possible. It was made easier when he was called away to see his brother, each time returning in a fouler and fouler mood. He stopped visiting Mo Xuanyu’s rooms every single night, leaving him to shiver through the cold, sleepless hours alone. It was better this way, he told himself, but he was starting to believe it less and less.

 Nie Huaisang’s smiles became noticeably strained, his hands shaking when they painted together and his eyes wandering when they sat out in the gardens. Mo Xuanyu couldn’t say he was faring much better.

 How was it that they both wanted to be with each other, and yet they still couldn’t achieve it? What kind of romance was that? A sham, Mo Xuanyu thought. His whole life was a sham.

 The promises Nie Huaisang had made many, many years ago rang through his ears in the dead of night. Promises of romance and forever, and a million sweet nothings of young love. How foolish Mo Xuanyu must have been to believe it. No matter how much Nie Huaisang may or may not have meant it, it was never going to happen. It was too good to be true.

 Mo Xuanyu managed a while without falling sick again, but the damage had already been done. He no longer had any illusions about his place here. When the news came that his mother had died, he didn’t even know how to grieve properly.

 It was seven years after his marriage that the Emperor decreed Prince Hua would marry some princess or noble lady from another kingdom. By then, Mo Xuanyu couldn’t even catch the name.

 That night, Mo Xuanyu was found dead in his room, not even a note left behind.

read the rest on ao3

[tatooinetraders]

Falling

Obi Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

word count: 2294

summary: obi wan is worried about breaking the jedi code, but he breaks the reader’s heart along the way. angst, but a happy ending :) inspired by falling by why don’t we

author’s note: this is also my first star wars fic, so enjoy! if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!  also mostly unedited, so what’s new?

Falling in love was never a part of the plan, but sometimes the force works in mysterious ways. Unfortunately, Obi Wan was bound to the ways of the Jedi and y/n was caught in between her heart and her head. 

It all started when the Council sent the two out on a mission to Kamino to check on the clone army production and talk to Shaak Ti in person. They were in a small starship to stay out of the Seperatist scanners as they flew through the galaxy. The conversation started as they went into hyperspace.

“Master Kenobi, don’t take this the wrong way, but why did the council pick the both of us for this mission? Why not send General Skywalker with you, or even Commander Cody?” y/n said as Obi Wan turned to face her in the co-pilot chair. “I am sure that he wouldn’t mind seeing his home.”

“Well, I am glad that we were chosen for this. It sounds simple, and honestly, a little time away from the battleground is amazing. It also doesn’t hurt that I have a skilled General and Master Jedi to travel with,” y/n blushed and turned her chair forward to try and hide the emotion that had reddened her cheeks. “And to answer your second question, Anakin is currently travelling with Padme and we really can’t afford to take Commander Cody out of the war right now.”

“I am glad that you think that I am adept, but I think the only thing that we will be needing on this mission is your master negotiation skills.”

“Don’t overstate my wordsmith abilities. It is no match for your incredible actions on the battlefield. The council probably wants you to make an appearance to inspire the clones. If I were one of them, I would be praying to serve under you.”

And with that, y/n was stuck in the sand; unable to free her mind from his compliments. To Obi Wan, he was just saying the truth and didn’t think much about what he said. It is not because he did not mean what he said, but he believed that their relationship was strictly professional. Y/n did not realize that this moment would be when she fell off the ledge.  

The next few months separated the pair, but every night since their trip to Kamino they tried to contact each other through datapads, comlinks, and the occasional hologram. They both convinced the council it was to discuss strategy, but they really could not go long without each other. They seemed to understand each other in a way that nobody else could. Obi Wan and Anakin had an unbreakable bond, but it was something different with y/n. This was attachment. This was something that he was not allowed to feel. This was something that y/n was not allowed to feel. But here they were, harboring affection for each other behind the back of the Jedi. He told himself that this was no different than his relationship with any other member on the council, but he knew deep down that this was something else and he could not bear to admit it. 

After both generals successfully won their battles, they returned to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi Council and the Senate to report. Y/n arrived first and when she got word of Kenobi’s arrival, she dropped what she was doing and rushed to catch him before he met with the council. Obi smiled immediately when he saw y/n approaching him. 

“Y/n! Maker, it has been too long since I have seen you in person. I was starting to think that it was normal to be light blue and transparent,” Obi Wan stated while resisting the urge to embrace y/n in his arms.

“The sound of your voice is so much clearer when it is not coming through a transmission,” y/n laughed back.

“You know that you love it either way.”

“Yeah right.”

“Just admit that you love the sound of my voice,” Obi Wan pressed.

“Nope, I absolutely do not love the sound of your voice. I love you” y/n said back with a silly smile, but that is when the laughter stopped. Y/n finally said what was on her mind and it seemed to make the galaxy stop. 

Obi Wan heard those three words and shut down. He realized where he was standing: The Jedi Temple. He was in the one place that would disapprove of those eight letters. He felt so conflicted at that moment. His heart was telling him to say it back, but his head was telling him that it was wrong. He was usually so great with words, but now, he could not even think. Y/n stood there, searching Obi Wan’s eyes for some kind of response. She did not mean to do something wrong, but she still meant what she said, even if it was in response to Obi Wan’s classic quips. She would not take it back for anything. The silence was killing her. She prayed to herself, Oh maker, please just say something, anything. Suddenly Obi Wan came back to reality and shook his head.

“I-I am sorry. I just don’t know how to respond. You know I can’t say it back,” Obi Wan said, avoiding eye contact. Y/n then cut him off and closed the space between them.

“Why can’t you say it back if that’s how you feel. The force is flowing through us and it doesn’t lie. I would not ask this of you if it was not something that I thought you capable of. In case you forgot, I am a Jedi too. I am at as much of a risk at even contemplating what I admitted just minutes ago. Don’t you understand that I am not going to let the code dictate how I feel about you?”

Tears were rolling down y/n’s face. Faint footsteps were heard echoing from another part of the temple. It broke the silence that would have been too much to bear. Every emotion felt stronger and y/n cursed the force for heightening them. 

“Y/n, you understand better than anyone that sometimes I do not agree with the council, but the code is something that I live by. You can’t ask me to disregard everything that I stand for just for you.” Obi Wan finally looked into y/n’s eyes and pulled her hands into his.

“Don’t just do it for me. Do it for yourself.” 

There they were, staring into each other’s eyes. Both sets were filled with pain and even Obi Wan’s eyes were welling up with tears. It felt like an eternity and the only thing y/n could hear was the blood pumping through her veins. How could she stand here, staring into the eyes of the man she loved, feeling so lost and alone? She always felt safe and comfortable in Obi Wan presence, even now in this state of passionate confusion, she could not deny that her hands felt comfortable in his. Why could he not feel the same?

Obi Wan finally responded with a shake of his head, “I must go. This is not the time or the place.” And with that Obi Wan took off down the hallway, pulling his hood up as he went.

“Kriff you, Kenobi.” y/n said just loud enough for him to hear as he marched down the hallway. 

From that moment on, they distanced themselves from each other. Y/n did it to protect herself and keep her emotions in check. Even though she did not always agree with the Jedi, she agreed with the ideals and swore to follow them. Obi Wan did it for the same reasons, but he also did it because he did not want to admit what he was feeling. How could he feel this way when his entire upbringing was against it? He thought that if he revealed his love that he would be breaking the code. What he did not know that everything that he had done to spend time with y/n in the past revealed how he truly felt. Nothing could hide the fact that he loved her too. Anakin and Ahsoka harassed him about it on the daily. If they accepted it, why couldn’t he? 

~

Three long and lonely weeks after their fight, Obi Wan and y/n were forced to work things out. They were going to be leaving on an undercover mission soon and if they did not trust each other with their lives, it could result in a catastrophe. He journeyed out to find y/n conversing with the younglings that had just returned from creating their lightsabers. The children laughed and smiled as they proudly showed them off. Obi Wan had never seen this side of her before; it was always the confident general that inspired everyone around her and incited fear into her enemies, but this time it was different. She had been vulnerable in front of Obi Wan all those weeks ago, but something about this interaction with the younglings had changed him. He finally realized that attachment was not so bad. These children had proven that. It was at this moment that Obi Wan realized that he must admit his love. If y/n brought light to everyone around her, he wanted to be a part of that light. Y/n looked up and saw Obi Wan observing from a distance and realized that it was time to prepare for their departure. She finished talking with the younglings and then they ran off. Y/n stood up and brushed herself off as Kenobi approached.

“I am not looking forward to these mission preparations, but let’s just get on with it, Kenobi” y/n stated, still upset from earlier this month.

“Listen, y/n, I know you don’t want to go on this mission with me, or let alone be around me, but I have something that I need to say,” Obi Wan had y/n’s full attention now. “I l-”

Suddenly Anakin arrived and alerted the pair “Master Kenobi. Master y/n.”

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi Wan sighed.

“Master Yoda wants me to inform you that it is time for you guys to depart.”

“Thank you, Anakin. We will be on our way.”

Y/n stood there confused, but happy for them to get on their way and avoid this whole conversation. She was not ready to open up with Obi Wan after the way she was hurt the last time she conversed with him. She started to walk towards the ship, but Obi Wan grabbed her forearm to stop her from leaving.

“Y/n, please,” Obi Wan pleaded, “just let me finish.”

“You heard Anakin, it is time to go.” 

“No, this needs to be said before we go. Y/n, I love you. I know this goes against everything that I believe in because of the Jedi, but I can’t deny my emotions any longer. I know that we are not supposed to have attachments, but I feel stronger because of it. I see the way you interact with those around you. I have loved you since the day I met you. I love the way you use your emotions to guide you. You are brave, courageous, and someone that I strive to be.”

“Obi, I just, I don’t know what to say.” Y/n was shocked, but smiled happily. This is something that she wanted to hear for so long, but could not believe that it would actually happen. Obi Wan’s hands traveled to y/n’s shoulders. They were staring at each other intently, breathing in sync. The tension of the confession pulled them close. Obi Wan was the first to cut the tension with light sarcasm.  

“Don’t say anything then,” Obi Wan breathed out as he leaned in y/n. When their lips connected, they forgot that they were standing on the hanger, exposed. The force flowed through their bodies and they felt connected. This moment was something that each of them had been longing for. Soon they both remembered where they were standing and pulled apart. Luckily, nobody had passed by, but the two would always remember to stay hidden in the future.

A shared smile appeared on their lips as they walked towards their ship. This time the silence between them was comfortable, nothing like weeks ago. They both boarded the ship when Obi Wan decided to answer a question that had been asked long ago.

“Hey, y/n, do you remember when we went on our first solo mission together and you asked why the council would send the both of us?”

“Yeah, I still can’t figure it out, but I am glad that they did.”

“Well,” Obi Wan said sheepishly, “it is because I asked them if you could go with me. They asked me who I wanted to go with me since my usual companions were busy elsewhere, and I chose you. I never really knew why I was drawn to you, but the force influenced me.”

“I guess we have the force to thank for setting us up,” y/n laughed. “And if the force set us up then the Jedi are just going to have to deal with us. I mean, I don’t think that they will ever find out, but the force will be with us.”

Obi Wan nodded and let out a small chuckle. Each Jedi buckled into their seats and prepared to leave. As the generals flew off, their hands found each other. Silently, they both thanked the force for catching them as they fell, falling into love.

[killerqueenmachine]

You make my life worth while - Brian May x Reader

Pairing: Brian May x Reader

Words: 6692

Prompt: "You make my life worthwhile with the slightest smile, or destroy me with a barely perceptible whisper"

Warnings: Alcohol, slowburn (i think.. A little bit at least), curse words. SMUT; Female receiving oral, male receiving oral. Penetrative sex - safe sex (for once..)

Note: Let's pretend that Chrissy does not exist in this world, yeah? This takes place in around 1979. I know that Dreamer's Ball is more.. melancholic than I've written this, but I decided to interpret the single quote I got as something positive - and I really hope you appreciate it!

This is my contribution to @roger-taylor-stole-my-heart‘s writing challenge! 🎉

__________________

It's hard to pinpoint exactly when you started falling. Maybe it was because of the sporadic compliments. It might have been his thoughtful nature or his funny remarks - or maybe it was something as simple as his beautiful, curly hair and his charming smile. There is a chance that it was faith. Perhaps just knowing and caring for a person for a larger portion of your life ends up with romantic feelings. The worst part about all of it was - maybe you were just in love with the thought of love? It had been a few years since you had had any sort of romantic interest so maybe you were just getting bored.

"Hello? (Y/N)? Are you in there?"

Brian's soft voice ripped you from your train of thought and back into reality. At this point, your eyes had been glued to his lips for longer than what would be considered normal, which immediately caused your blood to rush to your cheeks. His beautiful eyes slowly scanned your face before they frantically tried to reach a connection to your own eyes.

"Oh! Uh-yeah. Sorry, I just spaced out a bit. What were you saying?" you cleared your throat and awkwardly started shifting in your seat and fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

"I asked if you wanted to come to see our show tonight?" he asked again, voice filled with worry. The look in his eyes made it very obvious that he had multiple questions he wanted to ask you right now.

"Yes! Of course, Bri. You know I'd love to" you replied before clearing your throat.

"You... Were staring. Do I have anything on my face?" He looked at you and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before you reached out to grab a hold of his wrist.

"No, not at all. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I promise, I just really zoned out - I wasn't even paying attention to where I was looking" you apologized.

He softly laughed in response and held out his hands, placing them on the table between you, with the back of his hands against the tabletop, inviting you to place your hands in his. Wordlessly you accepted the invitation and gently laid your hands in his. Sparks seemed to fly everywhere you looked the moment you felt the warmth of his hands against your own.

"Are you okay? I'm a little worried about you if I'm being completely honest" he softly said desperately trying to capture your eyes for a moment of eye contact. Your eyes kept fleeing from his gaze until he gently squeezed your hands which caught you off guard.

"Brian I.." you hesitated and sighed. For a short moment, you thought about sharing your feelings. Finally telling him that you had grown fond of him and letting him know about the crush you had evolved. Quickly, all the alarms went off in your head, reminding you that it would be a bad idea. You had been friends with Brian for at least 15 years at this point and you had only shared a single kiss, more than 3 years ago a night where both of you were drunk. Never spoke about it since.

"I'm fine" you lied, trying to fake a smile.

"Please don't lie to me" he whispered, clearly hurt. He could see right through you, which didn't really surprise you. Seeing him hurt because of something you said made your heartache.

"Brian.. I don't know what to say. I have... A lot going on in my head right now and I don't think I'm ready to let you in on the thoughts just yet. I promise I will at some point, I just have some things I need to figure out on my own, okay?"

He softly nodded, sighed and gave your hands another tight squeeze before withdrawing his hands and glancing at his wristwatch.

"Oh, I'm going to be late," he exclaimed and flew up from his chair.

"Sorry to be running out on you, see you tonight yeah?"

You nodded and flashed him a smile - a genuine one this time.

______ AN HOUR LATER

The thoughts from earlier flooded your mind. You could not shake the thought of Brian. You wanted him so bad, but you knew you would never be brave enough to tell him. It simply couldn't be worth throwing all those years of close friendship away, just because you had gotten a stupid crush.

Not knowing exactly what to do, you phoned Veronica, asking if you could pop by. Just a few years ago you wouldn't have bothered with calling Veronica beforehand, but after the birth of her two sons, you figured it would be the best. Especially because she was pregnant too. How she managed to have two whole babies and one on the way with a husband that was barely home was baffling to you. She was truly the most amazing woman you had ever met.

You softly knocked on the door and opened it right after, not giving her a chance to reach the door to let you in.

"Hi love, what incredible timing you have. I just put the boys down for an afternoon nap" she said as she pulled you in for a tight embrace.

"Gosh, hi! I've missed you so much!" you replied, hugging her just a little tighter before letting go.

"Now, I already made you a cuppa. Let me know what's on your mind," she demanded, leading you to her kitchen to give you the hot cup of tea.

"How do you know I - no... Wait. No nothing's on my.. Mind" you rambled and exhaled loudly afterwards, clearly giving up.

Veronica softly laughed and shook her head.

"Now that that lie is out of the way - what's going on with you? You seem a little beside yourself. Did something happen to you?"

You sighed once again taking a quick sip of your tea before returning your attention to your friend.

"I have a problem, okay. A dilemma, so to say" you admitted, folding your hands on the table in front of you.

"There's this... Guy."

"A guy!" You were interrupted by a very excited Veronica. You shot her a look that made her calm down and wordlessly apologize, letting you finish your thoughts.

"A guy, yes. I really nice and great guy. And I feel like I've.. Maybe got a crush on him - and I shouldn't! I really shouldn't, you know. I feel like it could ruin my life if I let him know. Like... It would be horrifying. Imagine if he didn't feel the same, right? I mean why would he? If he felt anything along those lines, he would've let me know by now right?" you felt yourself ramble on while your hands were very busy playing with whatever piece of fabric on your body they could grab on to.

"Uh-huh, yeah. So, this is a guy you've known for a long time, yeah?" Veronica quickly replied, slowly nodding, looking as if she had caught on to who you were talking about.

"Uh... Yeah. Veronica please, I don't know what to do and I'm freaking out. I've never felt like this before!" you whined, crossing your arms in front of you on the table and banging your head down onto your arms.

"Hey, don't worry. It's alright" she replied and within seconds she was by your side, gently rubbing your back.

You sat in the silence for a few moments, letting your thoughts gather in your mind again while the gentle touch of Veronica's hand on your back, made you feel a little more at ease.

______ MEANWHILE

"Brian for the love of everything that is good and holy in this world, just tell her what you feel!" Freddie practically yelled at the curly-haired guitarist who was sitting in front of him, slouched over with his head in his hands.

"It's not that bloody easy, Fred!" Brian snapped back, flying up from his chair assuming a threating pose in front of the lead singer.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me"

A few moments of deafening silence filled the small room as the two men stared each other down, none of them willing to break. That was until Brian finally lowered his shoulders and sighed, dumping back into the chair he had previously been sitting in.

"I'm sorry Fred. I just.. She might be the best thing that's ever happened to me and-"

Freddie cleared his throat loudly, pointing at himself and raising his eyebrows.

"You know what I mean. I can't bear the thought of her rejecting me! I just.. I want her to want me too, you know?"

"I'm sure she does" John chimed in, not removing his eyes from the knobs he was currently fiddling with on his bass.

Brian softly sighed and shook his head, making his curly hair bounce all over his face and shoulders.

"I'm not sure... Wouldn't she have said something by now then?" Brian's voice was filled with worry and sadness.

"Wouldn't count on it mate. You haven't said something, so why would she? You know how shy she is" Roger chimed in, crossing his arms firmly and popping out his hip.

"Yeah... Well... You might be right. I don't know, I wish I could read minds" Brian whined before he finally rose from his chair and buttoned the bottom few buttons on his shirt, finally ready to hit the stage.

_____ LATER

The atmosphere in the concert hall was amazing. The audience in front of the stage were screaming, dancing and crying as the band performed their asses out of their trousers. You had hoped that Veronica would have joined you backstage, but due to her current state of being very pregnant, it was doctors’ orders that she stayed away from any surroundings that could stress her out - and the concert noise would be way too loud for her. As you heard the band start their last number of the night you subsided further into the backstage area and went to grab Brian's after-show-robe so you could hand it to him as soon as he stepped off stage.

The number ended and the four musicians came storming off stage, bodies oozing adrenalin and sweat. The roadies were lined up, taking the instruments from the men as they flew by. You quickly flung the red robe over Brian's shoulders as he passed you on his way to the wardrobe and you could easily tell he didn't recognize you, but you didn't blame him. Usually, it would be his other roadie, handing him the robe and then disappearing. To be fair, Brian probably wasn't thinking straight given the copious amount of adrenalin that must be soaring through his veins. He had just flown by you when he promptly stopped, and his head snapped in your direction.

"Gosh! (Y/N) my love, I didn't... I hadn't?? Why are you standing here?" Joy filled the tall guitarist's face quickly as he pulled you in for a sweaty hug, not giving you a chance to answer his questions. You felt his curls tickle your face and his natural body scent filled your nostrils.

"I just wanted to be here for you as soon as you got down - what a great show, Bri. You were really good!" you chirped as you pulled away from the hug.

"Thank you - you're an angel. What did I do to deserve you?"

You could see how Brian's entire demeanour changed from the adrenalin-filled rockstar to a soft and almost awestruck figure who had totally lost track of where he was. The admiration he had in his eyes made you blush, and your eyes quickly darted to the floor.

"Oh, Bri - don't get all sentimental on me here. Let's get you to the dressing room. You have a party waiting for you!" you said, gently placing your hand on his upper back, pushing him along with you.

Brian nodded and followed along, letting you lead him back to the rest of the band and the crew that was busy packing things up. Roger and Freddie were situated in the middle of their shared dressing room, still in their stage clothes with their robes over their shoulders and each with a cold beer in their hands. Respectfully you pushed Brian inside not wanting to enter their personal room. You were very well acquainted with all of the boys and to be honest, they felt like a second family, but the dressing room was their space and their place to unwind after an intense performance.

Just as you had pushed Brian through the open door he turned around and grabbed your wrist.

"Join us, plea-"

"Oh, hi you two - we were starting to wonder if you finally pulled yourself together and shagged" John nonchalantly said, rising from his chair and handing Brian a cold beer.

"John!" Freddie said sternly

"Uhh" you awkwardly managed to mumble before you pulled your hand from Brian's soft grasp.

Brian slowly turned his head around and obtained eye contact with John - and boy, if eyes could kill.

The mood of the room had suddenly gotten very awkward and in a try to ease the tension, you slowly backed away.

"I should probably go. Uh - great show - as always. And have a nice party - take a shot for me, yeah?" You awkwardly slid your hands down your thighs, almost as if you tried to wipe them clean.

"No- please" Brian whined, clearly troubled and uncomfortable with the whole seance.

"I mean, please come to the party? I think I owe you a drink" He said, walking towards you before gently grasping a hold of your hands and pulling you closer to him.

"Please, I really... Want you there. I've missed you" he whispered just loud enough for you to hear it.

The mere sensation of feeling Brian's hot breath on your neck and having your hands engulfed in his made shivers run down your spine. You have his hands a quick squeeze before you batted your eyelashes a few times and looked up at him.

"Alright. I'll be there. I'll always be there for you Bri." you whispered back with a soft smile.

The distance between Brian's and your head was excruciatingly tiny. All you had to do was to lean forward - and upwards - a bit and your lips would be on his. All the red lights in your brain told you not to act on it. You were just friends - and nothing more. Against your better judgement you started to lean forward and just before you reached his lips, Brian was pulled back by Freddie who handed him vodka shot. You stumbled back, slightly shocked at the sudden movement. Embarrassment filled your body as Brian shot you a desperate look.

"I should go. I'll see you at the party, yeah?" you mumbled as you waved your goodbyes to the four bandmembers. Freddie, John, and Roger waved back while Brian seemed to send you some sort of apologizing look before he nodded and softly smiled.

_____ AT THE PARTY

The loud music filled the room. All sorts of strange people were mixed at this party - most of whom you had never seen before, despite being close with the band from their very beginning. You were standing alone at the bar, throwing back the occasional shot and sipping your drink. You had a feeling that Brian and the rest of the band would be fairly drunk when they finally arrived. As if sent from heaven the four men you wanted to see finally waltzed through the front door, which caused a loud cheer to emerge from the large group of people.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink and made your way through the bunch of dancing people until you finally reached Brian and softly grabbed on to his arm.

"Brian! You're finally here!" you happily chirped and flashed a toothy smile in his direction.

"(Y/N), you're still here! Thank God. I was worried we had stayed away for too long and you had gone home" Brian replied and led you back to the bar, away from the worst clutter of people.

You softly laughed in response. The feeling of Brian's hand on your lower back as he skillfully guided you though the crowd made the butterflies in your stomach freak out. His touch had never made you feel this way before. Maybe the fact that you almost kissed earlier had heightened your senses.

"I- uh. I'm really sorry about earlier - do you want a drink? My treat" Brian continued when you finally reached the bar and he removed his hand from your lower back, slowly sliding it a little down and off your body, ever so slightly touching the most upper part of your butt.

"Just a beer would be fine - maybe a shot of vodka too?" You laughed, sending him a playful wink.

Brian nodded and got the bartenders attention. He quickly ordered two beers and two vodka shots on the side. You were standing by his side looking at him with pure admiration in your eyes. His gentle nature, the unruly hair, his slightly hunched over position and the slightly chipped white nail polish. On any other guy, it would have been a mess and most certainly something that would have turned you away. But on Brian, it was just right. As he stood there, he seemed almost God sent.

"Cheers, my love," he said and handed you the tiny glass with the clear liquid

"Cheers," you replied and quickly downed the vodka.

You both winched in disgust - pure vodka tasted horrible, as always.

"You - uh - you said you were sorry about earlier? What are you sorry about?" you asked, taking a sip of your chilly beer to cover the disgusting taste of the vodka.

"Oh I.. When Freddie pulled me away in the... Uh, dressing room?" Brian stammered his way through his sentence as the blush on his cheeks grew redder and redder.

"I thought we had a moment- but I might've been wrong, you know. It's just my imagination running wild" he shyly laughed and chugged most of his beer down.

Absolutely taken back by his comment you didn't know what to say. You had indeed had a moment, but you couldn't admit that? That would ruin your friendship, wouldn't it? Even though Brian had felt it too. Maybe he wanted it just as bad as you?

No. Not a chance. Absolutely never. He was this amazing, sweet, kind, smart, rock God and you were... You. Absolutely not.

"Uh - oh. Yeah. No, I don't know." You mumbled and stumbled a little back to increase the distance between you.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. God. I'm so sorry, please don't…" Brian almost whined before taking a step forward, bringing the distance back to its original state.

"No - no I'm not uncomfortable, uh. I just.. I think I have to go. It's late right? I should be heading home. I'll see you around" you panicked, placing the rest of your beer firmly on the bar before almost running out of the room.

You pushed your way through the crowd and ignored Brian's desperate calls. You had to get out and you had to get away. He must've been drunk. There is no way he would start acting so strange around you if he wasn't drunk. Did he even know what he was doing to you?

You finally reached the front door and stormed out and just as you went to slam it shut, Brian stuck his hand out and stopping it.

"(Y/N) please!" he whined, getting a hold of your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.

"Brian, you're drunk" you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the ground not trusting yourself to look him in the eyes.

"Am not. I've had a beer and a half and a single shot of vodka. Please look at me." he was out of breath from trying to follow you out.

Now here you were. Right outside the club that hosted the afterparty. Even with the front door shut and all windows closed you could clearly hear the music and feel the bass in the ground. You kept your head down, still not wanting to look Brian in the eyes. Partly out of fear - partly because you felt embarrassed for causing such a scene.

"Look at me, please" his voice was so soft. He gently placed his finger underneath your chin and lifted your head, until his eyes finally caught yours. It was now or never.

You rose to the tip of your toes and gently leaned forward, stopping just as your nose touched Brian's. The feeling of his skin against yours made you flinch and pull back a little, but you quickly leaned forwards again, hovering your lips inches from his just for a few seconds. He was frozen stiff, scared to even breathe. You softly pressed your lips against his, just for a mere second before you pulled away, desperate for more but not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He linked his pinky fingers with yours, wanting to have you close and you feel you. The only thing that could be heard was the loud pounding of the bass and your heavy breathing, neither of you daring to look at each other yet.

"Did you just kiss me?" he whispered; voice shaky.

"Was I not supposed to?"

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Maybe you had messed it all up.

"I don't know but could you do it again?" he asked very timidly.

You giggled softly when you nodded. He slowly lowered his head and you crashed your lips against his, desperately. You placed both your hands on either side of his face and kept him close to you and he replied with placing his hands firmly on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. The kiss deepened with every second and it didn't take long before Brian plucked up the courage to swipe his tongue against your lower lip, asking you to further deepen the kiss. You instantly allowed his tongue inside your mouth.

You pulled apart a few seconds later, keeping your eyes close just for a few more moments before slowly batting your eyelashes as you slowly opened your eyes. Brian was standing across from you, still with his eyes closed and with a soft and goofy smile plastered on his slightly swollen lips.

"Come home with me?" Brian whispered when he finally returned to a sensible state of mind.

"What?"

"Come home with me - please." He pleaded and stepped forward to encapsulate your hands in his.

"Brian... Are you sure? I mean.. Is this really what we want?" you asked, scared what he might answer. You knew deep inside that this was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

With a slight smile on his lips, he softly huffed and laughed in disbelief.

"Love, I don't think you understand the power you have over me. I am head over heels in love with you - have been for a while actually. Have I really been that bad at sending signals?" He asked, raising his eyebrows waiting for you to answer. He had really taken it there. He wanted this as bad as you did.

"I- uh. What.. I mean- wait? Power? What do you mean?" you felt the heat rise to your cheeks once again.

"You make my life worthwhile with the slightest smile, or destroy me with a barely perceptible whisper"

"Bri-"

"No, I mean it. I want you. We've known each other for what- 15 years at this point? I fear that you might think that I'm moving on too quickly but.. (Y/N) I love you. I love you so much - more than I have ever loved another woman before."

You stood in disbelief listening to every single word that came out of the tall curly-haired man.

"Please say something" he whispered. It was obvious that he had just exposed his most sacred thoughts to you, and he was desperately waiting for you to reply.

"Brian I..." you whispered so silently you barely heard yourself.

"I love you too," you said, raising your head again looking him deeply in the eyes.

You felt your eyes get wetter by the second as you watched Brian's reaction to what you had said. His knees seemed to go weak and he pulled you close to him, embracing you tighter than ever before. As your head hit his shoulder you started loudly sobbing. All those strong emotions had you had kept secret for so long were finally out - and it had paid off in the best possible way.

"No - oh God. Don't cry - it's okay. I'm here." Brian lulled while slowly rubbing his hands over your upper back.

"God, I'm just so... Relieved. I've been.. I've been feeling this way for so long Bri. I just.. I'm so happy you felt the same and I'm so glad I finally told you" You cried into his shirt.

"Me too baby. But now I finally get to tell you how much I love you every single day" he softly laughed into your hair before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Let's go home, yeah? I'll take you to my place if you want? You don't have to" He suggested.

"Yes. Please. I really, really want to. Really" you said, pulling away from him and wiping the last tears from your face.

"I'll get us a taxi right away - and let the guys know I'm leaving," Brian said as he took your hand in his and pulled you back inside.

He kissed your hand and pointed towards Roger and Freddie who were situated next to the jukebox. You nodded, picking up on his hint and you parted ways. While Brian searched for a phone you went over to Freddie and Roger.

"Hey guys!" you yelled

"Hello, gorgeous! Have you seen Brian around? If I'm not mistaken, he's probably lookin' for ya" Roger laughed and jokingly tapped Freddie with his shoulder, egging him to laugh along with him.

"Yeah, I have actually. That's why I came over here. I wanted to let you know, that he's going home in a bit" you said with a glimmer in your eye, happiness very present on your face.

"Oh - that's early. Why?" Freddie asked

"I guess he found a date to take home" you laughed, hoping they would catch on to your very subtle hint.

"And you're okay with that?" Freddie continued raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Absolutely - mostly because I'm the date" you laughed.

Both the men laughed with you and Roger even raised his hand to high five you - which you quickly replicated.

"Well, what's going on over here?" Brian chimed in as he laid his arm around your shoulder.

"Little missy here just said that you were taking her home. What a lad!" Roger cheered which made you feel your cheeks redden again.

Brian shook his head and laughed, pulling you in a little closer.

"Yes - that's exactly why I'm here. Our taxi is here" he said.

You bid your goodbyes to the guys and caught John on your way out of the building to let him know that you were leaving too. Brian gently guided you to the car and helped you in, before he went around and into the car from the other side. He immediately reached for your hand when he sat down, wanting to feel you close to him. You intertwined your fingers with his, gently pulling his hand into your lap so you could use your free hand to draw patterns on the top of his hand.

"I'm so lucky" you murmured, raising his hand up to your mouth so you could press a gentle kiss to it.  

Brian leaned over to you which caused you to turn your head towards him. Just as you did that, he captured your lips in another fierce kiss. His hand that you had just been holding in your lap quickly flew to your face to cup your cheek. There was an indescribable passion behind the kiss - a passion that you had never felt before. A need almost. You pulled away, completely out of breath and needing him more than ever. Needing all of him.

___ AT BRIAN'S PLACE

The ride luckily wasn't long and before you knew the driver pulled over and Brian led you out of the taxi after paying and led you into his flat. Respectfully you kicked off your shoes and took your jacket off and hung it on the rack, watching Brian intently as he did the same.

"So, uh-" he started, but before he had even had the chance to form any words you all but threw yourself at him, tightly embracing him and once again colliding your lips with his. The kiss started out heated and messy but the longer you stuck together, the more you relaxed and started taking in the moment completely. His scent, the feel of his hands on your lower back, your lips snugly pressed against his and your fingers twirled into his big poofy hair. Just how it was supposed to be.

Without a word, Brian broke the kiss and grabbed your hand feverishly dragging you towards his bedroom. He obviously wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

"Is this okay?" he asked as he closed the door behind you. Your senses seemed heightened and you were hyper-aware of everything. How you were standing, everywhere you had some sort of contact with Brian. His fingers softly wrapped around your wrist and his foot placed so close to yours, that you could feel it.

"Y-yes" you whined sounding more desperate than you had hoped for.

A smile appeared on Brian's face as he took a single step around you, so he was now facing you completely. He placed a string of quick pecks on your lips before his hands found their way to the hem of your shirt, gently tucking on it, asking you for permission to take it off. You replied by lifting up your arms, letting him pull the shirt over your head. The undressing of the two of you didn't take you long. Shortly after your shirt hit the floor Brian's shirt followed along, then his trousers - your trousers promptly followed by socks, leaving the both of you in your underwear.

You stopped for a minute, gripping both of Brian's hands to keep them from removing more clothes.

"What? Is everything okay? Do you want us to stop?" He asked a little worried.

"No - no," you said smiling softly. You ran your hands down his torso slowly, allowing yourself to indulge in the moment.

"You're perfe- I mean everything is perfect. I just wanted us to.. slow it down. I want you so bad Brian" you mewled gripping on to the elastic band on his underwear and pulled his body against yours, desperate to feel his hot skin against yours.

A soft whine left his lips at the sudden contact and the sound of him at your mercy made your knees go weak. The thought of having him wrapped around your finger was enough to keep you going for all eternity. Brian leaned forward a bit and placed a single open-mouthed kiss on your neck right below your ear before slowly inching his way down your neck and over your collarbones, placing soft ticklish kisses all the way.

"Brian.." you whimpered sliding your index fingers in behind the elastic band on his underwear.

"Yes, beautiful?" he purred leaving yet another bunch of tiny soft kisses on your collarbones.

"Is this okay?" you softly asked, tugging his underwear a little, making it fall a little lower on his hips, just barely exposing his hipbones and some pubic hair.

"G-god, y-yes, please. Please" he whined.

You dropped to your knees and pulled his underwear down his legs as you dropped. Gently you wrapped your hand around his half-hard cock slowly stroking him a few times before you removed your hand again to spit in it, before going back to stroking him. When he finally got fully hard you looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, head was thrown back and his hands were twisted in his hair so he wouldn't accidentally grab on to you.

You placed your free hand on his hip and squeezed a little to make him look at you. He opened his eyes and locked them with yours as you licked your lips once, leaning forward taking the tip of his cock into your mouth, working your tongue around it and hollowing your cheeks. A symphony of soft whimpers left his mouth and you barely got to work your way down his cock before he desperately grabbed your shoulders and silently asked you to stop your ministrations. You popped off him, jerking him slowly just a few more times before rising to your feet again, kissing your way up his torso.

"I'm not going to last" he managed to weep before desperately pressing his lips against yours.

"Oh-oh" You replied sheepishly, not knowing what else to say.

"I'm sorry it's... You're.. Gosh, you really know how to.. You know" he laughed awkwardly before gripping on to your wrist and leading you over to the bed.

"Can I?" he asked, snaking his arms around your torso and gripping the clasp of your bra.

You shyly nodded feeling like you would implode if he didn't have sex with you right now.

Skilfully he got rid of your bra and had you laid down on the bed before sliding your panties off too. He breathed in harshly - almost as if he gasped.

"You okay?" you asked almost out of breath.

Your felt so exposed but with Brian, it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so… beautiful" he softly said, eyes filled with adoration.

He got on his knees on the floor right next to the bed and grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"God" he laughed, slowly getting on to his knees on the floor right in front of you. He pulled you a little further out on the bed and situated his head between your legs, throwing them over his shoulders.

"I have to focus on not to cum just from looking at you, gosh. You're.. I've never seen such beauty before, I mean, I just feel like I -"

"Brian... Please put that mouth to better use - please" you softly giggled, pulling his head closer to your cunt.

"Yes - gotcha" he exhaled and finally attached his lips to your pussy.

You buried your fingers deeper in his messy dark curls and softly tugged on his hair to encourage him to continue his work. His skilled tongue switched between licking long stripes and sucking your clit. Every time he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked you audibly gasped and clenched your thighs together almost squishing Brian's head.

Slowly you felt your orgasm build up in your lower stomach, which made your muscles tense up. A long string of desperate moans, whines and whimpers flew over your lips.

"Br- Bri- Brian I'm.. Close- gonna- gonna cum. Please." you whined needing your release so desperately.

Brian didn't move his lips from your cunt but sucked a little harder burring his face a little further into you. That was the last drop that made the cup run over and your orgasm flushed through you with an indescribable force.

Brian finally peaked up from between your thighs with a happy almost drunk looking expression on his face. The remains of your orgasm were still glistening on his chin and lower lip which made him look even more attractive than he already was.

You scooted back on the bed, satisfied as ever. Brian followed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you leaving a trail of gentle kisses up your body.

"Condom?" you asked, your voice a little roughed up.

Brian kissed you once and leaned down to fetch one from his bedside table. He made a quick process of the wrapper and rolled the rubber over his throbbing cock.

"You ready for this, beautiful?" he softly spoke against the shell of your ear, slowly nudging the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"Yes, God yes! Please, Brian just... Oh!" you whined as he finally thrusted deeply into you, easily sliding in due to your wetness.

Brian's eyes fluttered shut as he started to pull out again just to push back in. Still incredibly sensitive after your previous orgasm the rhythmic bumps of Brian's pubic mound against your clit made you whine and moan. Your hands slowly made their way up to his back before you grabbed on to his shoulders with your nails out, making sure to mark him up.

"Mm- love you" Brian softly moaned against your lips, pressing soft kisses to them every once in a while.

Just as you were about to reply you felt Brian's hips jerk forward a little harder which made you moan even louder.

"I'm - holy shit - I'm not gonna last. You're so tight - fuck. Are you- are you close?" Brian whimpered, thrusts already getting sloppier

"No - no it's okay. Just cum for me" you softly spoke, dragging your nails down his back.

Those words were just the nudge he needed to let this orgasm blast through his body. A long string of desperate sounds left the both of you as you helped Brian through his high. He spilled his seed into the condom and stilled his movements, still deep inside you.

"I'm so-so sorry.. God - I.. I just couldn't.. It was just so good.. You - I .. Oh God, I'm so sorry" he whined, still not wanting to pull out.

"Oh Brian, don't be sorry. It was amazing" you smiled and kissed him deeply.

"I love you" you whispered, pushing your head a little further into the pillow below you, allowing you to look Brian in the eyes.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, kissing your nose.

You shook your head and laughed a little, your laugh making your very aware that Brian was still inside you.

"Not that I don't love being.. Conjoined with you. Because I do love that! But I - " you didn't get to finish your sentence before Brian slowly pulled out of you.

"Oh - I'm sorry. It just.. It felt really nice." he shyly said, disposing of the condom.

"Stop apologizing for everything Brian"

"Yeah.. I'm sor- I mean.. Yeah"

Within a few short minutes you had been to the bathroom to pee and freshen up and Brian had been to the kitchen to fetch a couple of glasses of water for the two of you. You fetched a t-shirt from Brian's closet and slipped it over your naked body before crawling back into his bed. Brian hopped into a fresh pair of underwear before cuddling down next to you, laying flat on his back inviting you to rest your head on his chest. You took him up on his silent offer and kissed his cheek before laying your head on top of his chest and wrapping your arm over his torso, intertwining your legs with his.

"I could really get used to this" you mumbled sleepily.

"Good, because I really want you to get used to it." He replied mid-yawn.

You let out another soft chuckle and pressed a single soft kiss to Brian's chest before closing your eyes, feeling your body get more and more relaxed to the sound of his heartbeat.

[theseadagiodays]

May 4, 2020

This is Not a Performance

Irving H Bolano’s incredible repurposed newspaper fashion for the Met Gala Challenge on Twitter #HFMetGala2020

May the Fourth be With You as you reach the next chapter of this current sci-fi drama we seem to be living through.   As the saying goes, reality can be stranger than fiction.   But it just happens to be a many red-eyed virus rather than an evil, black-masked father that we’re fighting as we all walk around like Storm Troopers.  

There are so many aspects of our lives, during Covid, which make it feel like we are actors in a make-believe story.   First of all, we’ve all become movie stars, with our faces, homes, and even pets showcased on our own silver screens.  As isolated as we are, our private lives now play out in the public sphere more than ever - no paparazzi required.    For some, this invasion of privacy is unwelcomed. But for many people, it satisfies a secret longing to share themselves with a wider audience.  After all, deep down, everyone wants to be seen and heard (I guess, me included, since I have this blog, after all).  It’s why TikTok and YouTube and Facebook have become multi-billion dollar companies so quickly.  And now, while this pandemic is a harsh daily reminder of the impermanence of all things, it makes sense that these digital missives are an attempt to seek immortality, in some strange way.

As someone whose work responds to human’s need to have a voice, I truly get why this is the case.  And I love that this time has turned housewives into opera stars, and health care workers into hip hop dancers, and housepets into circus performers. But, at the same time, I have become very aware of the masks that we wear, even inside our homes, to portray a certain self to the world that may stray quite far from our authentic selves.  The expression “dance like no one is watching” acknowledges the fact that we all tend to perform when we have an audience, and perhaps we’re only truly ourselves when we don’t.   I understand that the way we “perform” ourselves online gives each of us a chance to reinvent the fictions we want our stories to have.   So, while I surely take some guilty pleasure from intimate glimpses into strangers’ lives, I also do so with a certain skepticism about the veracity of what I’m seeing.  

This became particularly true for me when I received a recent link from my friend and amazing singer/songwriter, Dominique Fricot. Capitalizing on this current trend of oversharing, he cleverly asked his fans to film their morning routines for the music video of his new song, Wake Up, by his duo, Flora Falls.  Dom’s warm tenor voice blended with his partner’s breathy tones feel just like a lazy morning in bed.  But I’ll leave it up to you to decide just how accurate these portrayals of people’s idyllic daytime rituals actually are.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EbsqXou5FeY

May 5, 2020

Homeschool Heroes

About twenty years ago,  I was invited to adjudicate a youth music competition in the Yukon.  Travelling to one of the northernmost inhabited spots on earth, I imagined that my greatest surprise might have been a polar bear or Northern Lights sighting.  But it turned out to be something entirely different.  Among the 25,000 residents of the thriving metropolis of Whitehorse exists a treasure trove of talent.  I could not believe the incredibly honed skills and nuanced expression with which these 11-18 year-olds played.   Wondering why, I developed a theory that I now call SLoW: Sheltered Living Wonder.  When long, dark days, cold climates or pandemics force people indoors, they tend to spend inordinate amounts of time on creative endeavors and skill development.  In other words, they slow down and take time for wonder.

This theory has surely applied during these past few months of sheltering in place.   One of the most remarkable examples has been the inventiveness that many of my friends have brought to their first attempts with homeschooling.   So, I wanted to give a few shout outs to some of these Homeschool Heroes and the highly imaginative projects they’ve done with their kids.

Stunning Easter Eggs made from natural materials and dye, by my friend Jane Cox and her kids  (Botany lesson)

Candy Covid virus, made by Amelia, my friend Jen Sanke’s daughter, as she learned about the virus’ proteins (Biology lesson)

But perhaps the prize for most complex homeschool project has to go to my architect friend, Bryn Davidson, who upon returning from Australia, in late March, had to fully quarantine for 2-weeks.  So, with his 5-year old son Bei as helper, this Physics lesson allowed him to enjoy home delivery beer while in isolation.  Just brilliant!

https://youtu.be/FF9-2dWoUtc

May 6, 2020

Living in livestream

So today, 5 million British Columbian’s awaited our “sentence” with baited breath, as word spread that our provincial prime minister would deliver the Re-Open BC plan at 3 pm.   I have to admit, it felt a bit like when you were “grounded” as an adolescent and then your parents returned certain privileges to you.  Of course, I’m well aware that our province has already been far more licentious than many places around the globe.  We’ve been fortunate to maintain reasonably low numbers of infection (just over 2,000), with counts as low as 8 new cases per day, at this point. So, while our provincial parks closed, our beaches never did.  While we were encouraged, within a reasonable range of home, to be active outdoors, we were not restricted to walks only within the 100 metre radius of our house, as my Israeli friends were.  And while we could still shop at gardening and furniture stores, to make sheltering at home more enjoyable, New Zealanders had nothing but grocery stores and pharmacies open, for two months.  

I have sensed the gratitude my fellow Vancouverites have felt about these privileges.  But that does not mean that we aren’t still anxious to return to other aspects of living which we’ve missed.  When lockdown began, ominously on the Ides of March (the 15th), I’d harboured a secret hope that certain restrictions might be lifted on my birthday (exactly two months later).  And it turns out that Phase Two of the BC ReOpen plan will commence on May 19th, just 4 days later than I’d hoped.  What I most look forward to experiencing again are small gatherings with friends, (we’ll soon be allowed to socialize in public with up to 10 people); meals inside certain restaurants and pubs (those that are able to function within WorkPlace BC’s safety regulations); visits to registered massage therapists; and hugs with select people, (”using one’s own ‘risk assessment’.”)

But in the long-range plan, the harsh reality for artists has been laid out, as Phase Four (which includes resuming large-venue concerts, conventions, and international travel) can not occur until either a vaccine has been developed, an effective treatment plan is widely available, or herd immunity is achieved.  And this is not estimated to occur until mid-2021 or later.  So, the prospects are still bleak for symphony orchestras, opera and dance companies, artists who perform in crowded bars, or musicians who travel for arena shows and festivals.  This likely means that in order to satisfy audiences’ need to access live performance, and for artists to continue to share their creativity,  livestream formats will still have to persist for some time.  Therefore, I thought I’d share a few regular weekly livestream arts events here, both from Vancouver, LA & NY.

Canadian National Live Art Champion, Dmitri Sirenko, who we featured at our non-profit’s annual benefit on February 20th, 2020

Every Monday Night at 7 pm PST (Vancouver) Poetry Slam: https://www.facebook.com/Vancouverpoetryslam/

Every Thursday at 5 pm PST (LA): LIVE Art Battles - Watch painters do their magic in just 20 minutes: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWJoWGVwzGtk99nTOCib9vg

Every Thursday at 8 pm EST (NY): Spotlight on Plays - famous actors perform readings of theatre pieces, online: https://www.broadwaysbestshows.com/post/the-best-of-series/

May 7, 2020

Collateral Blessings

So many thoughtful writers are adding to the discourse, as we all strive to make meaning from what can feel like a senseliess time.  I have so appreciated the abundance with which people are sharing these missives, right now.  Every day, bursts of inspiration or flickers of insight come my way, thru texts, emails and Facebook.  Like adventurers, traveling together thru the dark of night, we shine light on guideposts, anywhere we can find them, as we collectively quench each other’s thirst for wisdom.  

One of the most profound writings I‘ve recently discovered came from a stranger’s blog.  In The Examined Family, Courtney Martin, without ever diminishing the gravity of the havoc that this virus has wreaked, writes about some of the assets that have also come out of this time.  New friendships with neighbors.  A long-neglected puzzle completed with her kids.   The time to draw and truly notice an artichoke in her back garden. My good friend Juan calls these collateral blessings.  This reference to the accidental gifts that this cruel virus has given us, is a beautiful twist on “collateral damage”, a term coined to explain accidental friendly-fire deaths during the Gulf War.  Commenting on the anticipatory nostalgia that she projects she will feel about certain things, once this time has passed, Courtney writes:

“I instantly feel overwhelmed at the prospect of schedules and stuff. I don’t want to go back to our former accumulation or frenetic pace. I don’t want to stop texting (my neighbor) my little triumphs. I don’t want to forget about the artichokes in the garden. I don’t ever want to forget this happened--the grief and the beauty of it. I’m not even sure that will be possible, but if it were, I wouldn’t want it. I don’t want to vote like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to eat like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to consume like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to schedule like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to mother or daughter or befriend or neighbor like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to sit inside this little life, noticing and appreciating and breathing, like it didn’t happen. There is unnecessary suffering all around me, and inside of me, too, but there is also necessary meaning. May we hold on to that.”      

You can read her full entry here: https://courtney.substack.com/p/unnecessary-suffering-and-necessary?token=eyJ1c2VyX2lkIjo3OTg0NDcyLCJwb3N0X2lkIjozNzU1NDMsIl8iOiJCTnk2VyIsImlhdCI6MTU4NzA1MjgyMCwiZXhwIjoxNTg3MDU2NDIwLCJpc3MiOiJwdWItMjA5MjIiLCJzdWIiOiJwb3N0LXJlYWN0aW9uIn0.puI9NMne-783ypInpvTkJ96T237WcrTo2ItDhqlkMiY

May 8, 2020

Nostalgia

I’m rarely one prone to nostalgia.  My childhood photo albums are in storage.  I have no family heirlooms displayed in my home.  My tendency is to revel in the present or dream about the future.  But this pandemic has strangely turned me into a sentimental fool.  Perhaps this return to simpler times, where we seldom shop, where we wander mostly by foot, or where we get to know our neighbors better, makes us long for the past in certain ways.  

For me, I’ve honored this by resurrecting my daily teenage Twizzler habit - a candy I’ve rarely eaten since then, but that now feels so satisfying during my Netflix & Chill evenings (while watching films almost as old like Groundhog Day & Anchorman).  

I’m also listening a lot to Old School Hip Hop, where the explative-free rhymes of the 90’s feel so strangely innocent.  It’s refreshing to listen to these musicians spit verses that merely celebrate the joys of dance and rap, rather than ranting about gun violence and other societal ills.  Run DMC It’s Tricky (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-O5IHVhWj0) and Beastie Boys Body Movin’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvRBUw_Ls2o) happen to be personal favorites.  

Last month, I was tickled by an old memory while planting a lilac bush in my backyard.  I suddenly remembered a story about my college boyfriend, whom I hadn’t thought of in 30 years.  Our relationship started a bit secretively, so as not to hurt his ex’s feelings.  So, one May afternoon, we snuck away to a distant park that was hosting a Lilac Festival.  Unfortunately, our ruse was quickly spoiled when a candid photo of our picnic under the purple blooms was plastered all over the front page of the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle the next morning.  

Another sweet memory returned in culinary form. Every Tuesday, for 7 years, my mother selflessly drove me an hour from home and back, for my flute lesson.  And to break up the long drive, we regularly stopped at Bickford’s Pancake House for my favorite adolescent treat: breakfast for dinner. Their specialty was the Dutch Baby Apple.  And I finally made my first homemade attempt at this deceptively easy delicacy, last Tuesday.  

This has also been a time to return to bedtime stories (some I’ve read to friends’ kids, and others for adults to hear.)  The Great Realisation by British performance artist, Tom Foolery, has been making the social media rounds. But in case you missed this touching tale that looks back on this time as if the tale is being told in a not-so-distant future, it’s a wistful story about some aspects of modern life that we may never long for in the future:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw5KQMXDiM4

[trashyslashers]

hiiiii! i hope that i am not disturbing you! i was wondering if you can do trap daddy x fem!s/o who after trials left out of the campfire where all the other survivors are to wandering off into the fog and ended up at the macmillan estate? i'm sorry if this is too much, please ignore if you'd like! stay hydrated!

It came out kinda LONG so I put it under a readmore, here ya go anon. The format got kinda wonky I’m sorry.

             Not much thought was ever given to where you were going when you left the Campfire. When it came to wandering through the woods, neither the direction or how far one chose to go ever mattered; regardless of the variables, sooner or later they would end up back at the fire with the other Survivors. There were rare occasions every now and then where you and some of the others would group up and wander off, ending up somewhere else to scavenge for supplies to entertain yourselves with or to aid you during trials, but aside from that, meandering walks in the woods never led you anywhere else.

At least, you thought that was the case when you’d broken off from the group for a short walk not too long ago. You were tired (as tired as one could get in a place where it seemed like all normal, bodily mechanics were nonexistent) and figured that a quick stroll would clear your mind, but as you walked on and noticed that trees were starting to become sparse and deteriorating remains of brick walls were beginning to take their place, you realized that you’d made a terrible mistake by wandering off on your own.

Of all possible outcomes, the absolute last thing you were expecting from your walk was to end up in the lot of the MacMillan Estate, and the sight itself of the towering Ironworks was enough to unsettle you. You knew that the man whom you almost always were pinned up against in this particular location was an especially brutal and sadistic one, and far more times than you could count you’ve found one of your ankles stuck in the maws of a bear trap that no doubt was placed by him.

Without even meaning to, you began to scan the ground around you in search of the rusted things. The last thing you wanted was to wind up in one outside of a trial where you doubt the Entity would mend your injury, and you knew that the Trapper (a simplistic but very fitting nickname given to him by the other Survivors) took fervent care of them and probably took massive delight in catching you and your friends in them.

Speaking of him, was he even here?

You’ve heard that the Killers had their own Campfire, a fire very similar to the one you and the other Survivors spent a large amount of your free time around, and for a brief second you almost felt relieved as you figured that much like your own circumstances, the Entity probably didn’t allow for the Killers to roam free as they pleased. It was either that, or they tried to avoid the Survivors outside of trials as much as you all tried to avoid them, and you were fine with whatever the truth was.

However, you soon found out that you were incredibly wrong in that assumption when you heard the sharp snap of one of the aforementioned traps being triggered, and you realized that there literally was no reason for the Entity to prevent the Killers from accessing the very places they came from.

If he saw you, someone who most certainly was not supposed to be here, how would he react? Anger, which would most definitely lead to violence? Indifference? Annoyance? Would he just shoo you away, or would he throw you over his shoulder and hang you up like a slab of meat? Questions of the sorts swam through your mind and you figured it was in your best interest to turn around and head back the way you came- only to realize that you couldn’t. The path you had came from was now cut off by one of the towering walls that bordered the estate. You were stuck.

Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as the reality of your situation settled in, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel a small bit curious. Some of the other Survivors always got on your case for it- sometimes your common sense went down the drain and you did something utterly stupid to quell the burning desire to Know Something that stirred up inside of you. This was one of those times, and you thanked your lucky stars that none of the others were around to see your next move.

Swallowing the lump that had welled in your throat, you moved towards the foundry. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it? To see what was up, what it was like in there outside of trials (unoccupied, you hoped). However you soon realized that it wasn’t unoccupied, because as you neared the building you could hear the grating sound of stone on metal and you figured that he was probably in there, sharpening something- it made sense that he’d spend his time outside of trials doing something of the sort. 

With caution, you approached the building.

So engrossed by his task, he failed to notice you as you slowly peered your head around the corner of the door to get a better look at him. Watching him work, in his element, was something else entirely.

God, he was huge. You never truly had the opportunity to take a long look at him given the fact that literally all of your time spent around him was time spent running for your life, but now you could actually take him in fully. Even sitting, parked on one of the large rusty pipes that made up the interior of the building hunched over as he worked on a trap, he dwarfed you. The sheer strength in his body scared you and you realized now that he could probably, very easily, break every bone in your body if he wanted to.

On the ground below him were miscellaneous objects; mostly a few traps (some were set, some seemed busted up, a few seemed to have been triggered which answered your previous question about why on earth you heard one go off- he must’ve been testing them) and surrounding them were various tools, none of which you could identify or name.

Just how long exactly you spent watching him you were unsure of, but you were brought back to reality by something totally unexpected: him speaking to you.

“What d’you want?” 

His voice was deep, gruff, and ridden with annoyance and irritation. Exactly as you imagined he’d sound. He didn’t even bother looking up from his work when he spoke- how long had he been aware of your presence?

You knew his question wasn’t a genuine one, rather it was an attempt to just figure out whatever your intention for showing up unannounced may be so he could get you to leave. When he briefly glanced up at you, you got the feeling that he looked you right in the eye and it only worsened the tension you already felt and you could only guess that he wasn’t too pleased with you interrupting him and his work.

You stood there staring at him as it took you a minute to even register that he had, in fact, asked you something.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice was quiet and weak, sounding more timid than you intended and you scolded yourself mentally for it. Your mouth, your voice, felt unable to form proper, coherent sentences, and you felt your face redden with the heat of embarrassment. You couldn’t really blame yourself, though. This was one of the men that has killed you more than a handful of times and you were beyond terrified of him.

He huffed, not even attempting to hide his annoyance with your weak attempt at a response, and didn’t bother looking up from his lap. He remained silent after that for a moment, seemingly completely uninterested in your obviously unwelcome presence.

As much as you didn’t want to speak to him again, you knew it was in your best interest to explain to him what was going on, so taking a deep breath you bit the bullet and spoke.

“I left the Campfire- our, Campfire- and somehow got here. I can’t get back, the way I came was blocked off when I tried, and I… don’t know what to do.” You spoke simply, and you hoped it at least cleared the air somewhat and let him know that you didn’t want to be here anymore than he wanted you to be.

He seemed to take a second to think over what you said, and you felt a small glimmer of hope at the possibility that he may be somewhat merciful and help you leave, but the second he spoke you realized that probably wasn’t going to happen.

“Not my problem.” He said, and the tone of his voice made you realize that perhaps you should’ve tried harder to leave when you first thought of it.

You were about to open your mouth again when he briefly stopped drawing the sharpening stone over a tooth of the trap and while you couldn’t gauge his expression given by the fact that his face was covered by his mask, you could tell by the way he looked up from the tools in his hands that he was staring right at you.

Before he could say something again, you spoke up.

“Look, I can tell that you really dislike the fact that I’m here and I’m not crazy about it either, but I don’t. know how. to get back. If I did, I’d be gone, but I don’t, okay?” You harshly punctuated your words. You knew it wasn’t a smart idea to talk to him like that but it was your turn to get annoyed; you were tired, and the walk you went on was to clear your mind and the fact that you wound up in your current position just made you feel agitated.

You regret it almost immediately though, as the way he sat up fully and cocked his head slightly made you realize that your tone may have pissed him off.

“Y’know, you’re really getting on my nerves, girl. It’s not my problem that you got yourself lost, so I suggest you figure it out yourself and go back to wherever it is you came from, you understand me?” He spat.

The way he stood up and quickly closed the gap between the two of you made you shudder. You barely reached his ribs, and you were beginning to wonder what exactly would happen if a Survivor was killed outside of a trial, as that seemed like the the most probable outcome for the current situation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you just stared up at him, your voice lost.

“If you have nothin’ more to say, then the door is right there. I have work to do and can’t do it with you standing there gapin’ at me.” He made no motion to move as his eyes bore into your own, and he sounded incredibly irritated with you. Fearing what would happen if you angered him anymore than you already had, your breath shook as you slowly turned around and shuffled to the door, half expecting to feel his cleaver meet your back.

Tears welled in your eyes as you walked away from the foundry; you were terrified and so, so confused. You hadn’t idea how you were supposed to get back because as expected, the spots along the wall where the gates usually manifested were still nothing but solid brick. You realized that you were going to be hanging around for much longer than you wanted to, so you found a small nook within some of the old walls that were still standing around the yard and sat down, hugging your knees to your chest as tears fell from your eyes.

Hopefully, the Entity would realize the mistake that occurred and would correct it soon. It had to, right? Didn’t it have like, an omniscient presence or something? Surely it knew what was going on, but as time went on and no sign of any exit showed your hope dwindled and your fear of what the Trapper would do to you if he found out that you were still trespassing only grew.

Though it could’ve been anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, you had no idea how much time had passed when you heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming closer. Not wanting to anger him anymore than you already had, you wedged yourself as far back into the corner as you could, trying to make yourself as small and as inconspicuous as possible in the hope that he’d pass right on by.

It didn’t work.

He didn’t say anything when he found you, instead he just… loomed over you. To your relief though, judging from his stance he didn’t seem as irritated or annoyed as he did before but you still worried about what he might do considering you didn’t leave after he explicitly told you to do so.

He didn’t speak as he stood towering over your seated form, and you took that as an opportunity to gesture wildly, pointing rather aggressively towards the nonexistent exit and mumbling “See?”. You hadn’t any idea what else to do. He told you to sort it out yourself, but you literally couldn’t, and you only hoped he would realize that you weren’t still here by your own free will. 

“Come on, get up.” He spoke with a sigh, catching you off guard. You looked up at him, your expression nothing short of bewildered as he motioned for you to stand and although you were incredibly reluctant to do so, you did as you were told.

“Thought you wanted me gone.” You said with a quiet sniff. You were half expecting him to respond with some harsh retort per the norm but his response of “Obviously that’s not happening, is it.” suit you fine as he turned and headed back towards the foundry, and you thought that just maybe, he’d had a change of heart.

Once in the doorway, you noted that he did indeed seem considerably less irritated with you than before, and you also realized that the majority of the traps on the ground were now fixed up and looking as sharp, literally, as ever.

“Sorry, again. Don’t mean to be getting in your way.” You said, your voice not much louder than a mumble, and his reply of telling you that you weren’t caught you greatly off guard as he had told you just before that you indeed were.

“I realize now I was too hard on you earlier, it wasn’t necessary of me,” He said as he returned to his previous seat before continuing. “I’ll tell you what- if you can keep quiet and not bother me while I get this mess sorted,” he loosely gestured to the remainder of the busted traps, “then I don’t really care if you stay here ‘till you get your mess sorted. Just keep quiet, got it?”

His change of heart was unexpected, but you were relieved to see that he wasn’t a completely disobliging guy once he had time to think. Once you nodded your head in agreement, he was back at it, fixing up and repairing his work and not bothering to respond to you.

Thankfully, it doesn’t last long as eventually the Entity seemed to have realized it screwed up, and from your spot you could see that the gap in the walls along the outskirts of the estate returned to its rightful spot and you couldn’t help but sigh heavily with relief.

The Trapper didn’t even bother to look up from his work as you stood up from your spot on the stairs and made your way to the door once again. Glancing briefly over your shoulder you debated on if you should even say anything since he specifically instructed you not to, but you took a breath and gave a quiet “Thanks”, as you felt that he should know you weren’t the least bit ungrateful for his mercy.

His only response to your gratitude was a hum of acknowledgement and a slight nod of his head. As relieved as you were that the simultaneously awkward yet frightening encounter was over, you couldn’t help but feel oddly lucky that you got to see a different side of him.

[hr306565-blog]

Solar Roofs La Habra CA

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"I must accept that we'll get over our disparities to pass this thing," he said. "As much as I'm most likely contradicted to everything else that has left [Schwarzenegger's] mouth, this is something we've had the option to agree on. The senator came our bearing on this — he's a Republican who is supporting a bill that sponsors another ecological program! This is something or other that at last in case you're a Democrat and you don't bolster it, there is basically no legitimization." In the course of the most recent three years, Elon Musk's vision for a completely coordinated sun-based board rooftop has been deferred consistently. First there were generation issues. At that point stylish issues. Presently Tesla is uncovering a third emphasis of its sun powered rooftop tiles, and this time the organization thinks it has a champ. 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These are coordinated with Midsummer's own collapsed metal rooftops, which are effectively associated with smokestacks, bay windows, spreads and valleys, and is likewise fit to stroll on. The metal rooftops are specially designed to ideally coordinate the sun powered module and expand the all out introduced control. This implies a slick, tactful and productive sun-oriented cell rooftop that is additionally support free.

[mortaljin]

BTS Fanfiction Recommendations!

These are some of my very, very favorite fics (like the ones I go and message the authors about). I follow hundreds of blogs so it’s hard to keep up with which fics I’ve read (I stopped tagging them at some point?) so there are probably dozens more. All I will say is that if a writer is tagged here, the rest of their writing is well worth looking at too.

Thank you, Writers, for everything you do. 

SERIES

Seokjin

Stigma; @eris0330 [COMPLETED]

(Seokjin x reader, text au)

As part of Jin’s lifestyle, he is meant to be walking in his father’s footsteps. Even before being born, the LV CEO had big plans. Jin will do everything to please his father’s wishes of finding a partner, and take over the company. But it’s not for the company’s sake, it’s for the secrets that lies within the family business. 

Eros; @kpopfanfictrash

(Seokjin x Reader)

In the futuristic world of Europa, Queen Venetia rules her land an iron fist. None are more feared than the Akeran, an alien race Earth fought eons ago, who bear a remarkable similarity to the angels of lore. When you find yourself at odds with the Queen, it seems there’s no safe place on Earth for you to hide. Nowhere but with your mysterious rescuer, and even he may be more trouble than he’s worth.

Yoongi

A Wish Out of Water; @jimlingss [COMPLETED]

(Yoongi x Reader)

A genie could solve all your problems. Though you wouldn’t even know exactly what to ask for - money, a warmer house, a better job, a better life? But Min Yoongi is no ordinary genie. He’s here to make your life a living hell. Too bad it was hell to begin with.

Suga Daddy; @drquinzelharleen

(Yoongi x Reader)

Yoongi gives you an offer you can’t refuse.

Inheritance; @rbuns [COMPLETED]

(Yoongi x Reader)

After your grandmother passed she left everything to you. Her house, her fortune, and apparently… her cat? The grumpy male hybrid you encounter at her house is anything but the tame housecat you’d expected to find. Fulfilling your grandmother’s last request to look after him becomes a lot harder when he seems to be avoiding you, and your dissatisfied relatives start stirring up trouble.

Di Piano e Forte; @justoneday-namjoonii

(Yoongi x Reader)

Piano; A keyboard of cypress, played with soft and loud. Was it the ivory and onyx keys that let you escape from your reality…Or was it the man with sable hair and ivory skin.

Hoseok

Heartbeat; @joonbird

(Hoseok x reader)

You’ve always stayed far away from the Kingsnakes, the coldblooded gang that runs the dark heart of your city. That is until your life collides with the intriguing and dangerous Jung Hoseok.

Transference; @jeonjagiya [COMPLETED]

(Hoseok x Reader)

During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell.

Written On Our Veins; @army-author

(Hoseok x Reader)

You and Hoseok are sick of spending the holidays soulmate-less while your friends enjoy Christmas as couples… tired of waiting for fate to make a move, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Namjoon

Amor Fati; @sugaroons

(Namjoon x Reader)

you’re still settling into your life back at university when you meet kim namjoon. he’s so perfect—sweet, awkward, and exactly your type, especially in bed—that you know there has to be a catch.

Jimin

I’ll Never Be Her; @anon-luv

(Jimin x Reader)

You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his.

Little Bear; @b-angst-tan

(Jimin x Reader)

You’ve always wanted a hybrid. Not truly being able to afford one makes it seem impossible that you’d have one anytime soon. Until the opportunity presents itself as if by miracle. 

Taehyung

Crimson; @idolxreader

(Taehyung x Reader)

Kim Taehyung disrupts your day-to-day life to make a deal with you.

Sugar daddy au.

Jungkook

Wanted; @rbuns [COMPLETED]

(Jungkook x Reader)

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

Blackjack; @kpopfanfictrash

(Jungkook x Reader)

Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as ‘the shadow.’ When you become indebted to the worst of the worst – how, exactly can you find a way out?

OT7

Tales of Greyria; @cutaepatootie [COMPLETED]

(Jungkook/Taehyung/Jimin/Hoseok/Yoongi x reader pairings)

Five stories that took place during the great times of a kingdom named Greyria, telling us about its glory and its downfall.  How it all started with a red rose, and ended with a burning fire. 

I just finished this and guys. Just go read it.

The Lonely Hearts Club; @cinnaminsvga [COMPLETED]

(?? x Reader)

social media au where y/n and yoongi are mutuals but they’re constantly at each other’s throats for reasons unknown (aka emotional constipation)

Call Me Mistress; @jeonjagiya

(ot7 x OC, not a poly au.)

A collection of stories recounting the titillating work of the dome known only as the Mistress.

Note: This was originally written as a reader insert and recently changed to an OC. It is still so worth reading, and I can guarantee you guys will have seen the Mistress as an OC anyways!

Working Man Bangtan; @jeonjagiya (I love all her stuff too)

(OT7 x Reader, not a poly au.)

A collection of stories where the leading man has a working class occupation.

Golden Goddess; @angel-ofcolordeactivated20180104

(?? x Reader)

You were stolen, swept away in the depths of the night by Park Jimin, the cruel king of the fairies. He’s always seen you as a prize– as something to play with rather than a person, and now he’s finally got his hands on you. He’s captured you, taken you off to a different world and stripped away any inch of your former self. Will you ever manage to escape his grip?

Tales From The Land of Fae; @fireheart-namjoon

(OT7 x Reader, not a poly au.)

A compilation of tales from the four courts of fae: Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring.

Note: This is the masterlist of all the related aus. The Winter Court is the main series of this story line.

Sweeter than sweet; @gimmesumsuga

(Jimin x Reader primarily, smut involving multiple other members)

You would have never expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you;  he's handsome, seductive, and totally out of your league.  Oh, and a vampire.  You're enthralled by him from the moment you meet, addicted to his kiss and his bite, willing to do anything to be by his side - even if it costs you your freedom... and your life. 

The 7 Society; multiple authors

(OT7 x Reader, not a poly au.)

Inside the grounds of the University, rumor has it there exists a secret society. One which thrives underground, comprised of seven individuals; each of whom is only to be revealed upon the hour of their death. The Society is enigmatic, seductive and wealthy beyond belief. There is only one rule, which must by strictly adhered to.

Don’t tell.

Soul Meiteu; @bang-tan-bitch

(OT7 x Reader, literally just fluff?? <3)

Your night at a concert turns into a dream come true experience. All you have to do, is take his hand.

Trust Nobody; @softjeon

(Taehyung x Reader, OT7 x Reader)

The first thing someone should know about you is that you’re an escort. Yes, you have fucked for money. One day your boss made you an offer you couldn’t say no to. One year - seven boys. One rule: never fall in love.

Endgame; @oppamansae

(?? x Reader)

In chess, winning is everything – unfortunately, it is never easy. Y/N knew that as soon as she was ordered to assassinate the ruler of Seoul’s wealthiest mob empire, Park Jimin. The real question was: would she be able to survive this twisted game, all while keeping her identity a secret?

Bound; multiple authors [COMPLETED]

(OT7 x Reader, not a poly au.)

In a world where marriage isn’t by choice and love isn’t an option – will you ever find happiness? Or just continue to search? 

Too Sweet; @justoneday-namjoonii

(OT7 x Reader, not a poly au (?),)

-Vampire!au BTS

ONE SHOTS

Seokjin

Long Live The King; @remembeo

(Seokjin x Reader)

Long live the King, and may he reign forever more. 

Currents; @bread-jinie

(Seokjin x Reader)

Jin thinks he’s loved you since the moment he saw you, back when you were teenagers; Jin knows he’s been in love with you, the soul burning kind of love, since he saw you on your wedding day. He doesn’t mind that you don’t reciprocate on his level, he’s just happy to show you he cares. Until one day, he simply can’t anymore. Until one day, you realize you need to show him you care, too. 

Golden Boy; @kpopfanfictrash

(Seokjin x Reader)

The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

Note: This is multi-author series. Masterlist here.

Yoongi

Lost Stars; @taegih

(Yoongi x Reader)

-Enemies to lovers au

Smoke; @army-author

(Yoongi x Reader)

You have full moon eyes, and Yoongi wants to cheat the system.

Petrichor; @donewithjeon

(Yoongi x Reader)

You weren’t exactly sure when Min Yoongi had come into town.

Blackthorn Manor; @kpopfanfictrash

(Yoongi x Reader)

After becoming the assistant of professional recluse Min Yoongi, you begin to notice strange things. Noises which shouldn’t take place, shadows which shouldn’t move like they do. You’re almost convinced that you’re crazy - until something happens, something unbelievable to make you realize you’re not.

Hoseok

The First Eclipse; @rbuns

(Hoseok x Reader)

Hoseok reminisces on your earlier times together.

Namjoon

I’m so sorry omg I rarely read any Namjoon stuff omg.

Jimin

20 Things (and counting) I Hades About You; @readyplayerhobi

(Jimin x Reader)

Park Jimin, also known as DJ Plouton, one of the hottest DJ’s on the planet. Arrogant, sarcastic and incredibly attractive; you’d appreciate him more if you weren’t convinced he’d be the death of you on a daily basis. But apparently that wouldn’t matter either, because what’s a bit of death to the God of the Underworld?

Note: I think this author is doing a greek god au oneshot for each boy!

Taehyung

Fireflies; @sugaxjpg

(Taehyung x Reader)

“There’s no hope for people like us, sweetheart. We’re destined to fall in love a thousand times, and have our hearts broken in each one of them. We might as well be miserable together.”

Danse Macabre; @sugaxjpg

(Taehyung x Reader)

-Vampire au

Shelter; @btssmutgalore

(Taehyung x Reader)

Taehyung’s always been a best friend, which is why you think he’s the right person to ask for help when it comes to relationships.

Sacrilege; @writingseoul

(Taehyung x Reader)

You're a sacrifice to Taehyung, the Sun God

Jungkook

Back Home To You; @kthartics

(Jungkook x Reader)

Four years after graduating from med school, and ten after a mutual break up with your high school sweetheart, he comes knocking on your window battered and bruised only for you to find out he’s quit the military and in exchange for the title of Korea’s top mercenary but to you, he’s just a boyfriend you got together with again.

Lust and Love; @bbfairy

(Jungkook x Reader)

Your family forces you to marry a man named Park Jimin in order to gain a profit from their affluence. While preparing for the Park’s arrival, your father hires a butler in the estate. Gradually, you fall for him. You become infatuated with his presence, unwilling to accept the marriage and Park Jimin.

Plans for Wedding Bands; @guksheart

(Jungkook x Reader)

I’ve been meaning to propose to you for ages and i have set up the perfect plan but as we’re driving to the restaurant this tiny little cat on the side of the road that you’re determind to save shows up and now everything is ruined oh god what am i gonna do❜

The Wedding Planners; @gukyi

(Jungkook x Reader + some side yoonseok)

jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. and then, as if your life couldn’t get any shittier, you make the poor decision of sleeping with him on the first day of the job.

A/N: I really hope I linked these properly lol. Let me know if there are any problems!

[austinsirkin]

“The Blue Door Symbolizes Sadness”: Lies Your English Teach Told You

It seems to have become a point of shared American culture that Gen-X’ers and Millennials hate how they were taught literature in high school. Nearly everyone from those generations has the memory of sitting in English class, listening to their teacher explain how something in a book meant something that seemed ridiculous, especially if said teacher was explaining that some minor detail, such as the color of a door, was a part of an elaborate plan by the author to express something incredibly subtle. As a result, many of those students came to feel that literary analysis was stupid, and honestly, I can’t blame them. However, today I’m going to explain why literary analysis is important, and why you’re right to hate the way it was taught to you in high school.

Who Were Your English Teachers?

I’m going to go ahead and throw high school English teachers under the bus, metaphorically speaking. I apologize in advance if you’re a high school English teacher and are reading this (I love you, you’re under-appreciated, and you do important work), but nevertheless it has to be done.

I’m not currently aware of the education levels of high school teachers around the country at the moment, but back in the 80′s, 90′s, and 00′s, the vast majority of high school teachers, especially in English, did not have post-graduate educations. The only requirements to teach in high school were to have either a Bachelor’s degree in the field you wanted to teach, or a Bachelor’s degree in education. In some places you didn’t even necessarily need that, and you could just get a certification. I say this not to diminish teachers themselves, but because it’s important to bear in mind when considering what these teachers said in their classes that they were not experts in these fields. Most of the time, they were teaching from a primer of sorts, which effectively told them what to say. These were the “teacher versions” of the textbooks you had in high school, which came with footnotes containing not just solutions to problems or answers to questions, but general knowledge that would be useful for a teacher to know.

So really, the people who wrote those books that your teachers used are the ones responsible for this whole mess. In that sense, it’s not your teacher’s fault, and you shouldn’t hold it against them; if we’d required advanced degrees in order for someone to be a high school teacher, there’d be teacher shortages all over the country. At least, that was the case a decade or two ago.

While I don’t know exactly who was responsible for writing all of those textbooks, my best guess is that whoever it was, they wrote them a long time ago. I mean, after all, it’s not like Shakespeare’s works have changed in the last few hundred years, right? Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “The Scarlet Letter” is still going to be “The Scarlet Letter” a hundred years from now. Right?

Well, not exactly. And that brings us to my second point.

Living in the Past

While specific works don’t change over time (with some notable exceptions including translations and multiple published versions), our understanding of them certainly does. For example, if you’d asked someone to analyze “Romeo and Juliet” in 1597, I guarantee you that their analysis would be markedly different from our analysis today; it’s well known that his plays were seen as common entertainment of the time, rather than high-brow performances for the educated only.

This is important to note, because the field of literature analysis and criticism is a constantly-evolving, changing environment, and what’s most relevant to this article is the idea of “author intent”. This is what lots of us learned in high school, and hated; the idea that by picking apart certain details of a given work, we could discern the intent of the author, where we assumed that every detail was consciously chosen to represent something. For example, as in the name of this article, that the author intended for a blue door to symbolize sadness. Or for a green light to symbolize greed.

The problem with this was that as anyone who has ever written anything knows, sometimes you just choose things arbitrarily*. Note the asterisk there, as we’ll come back to this later.

As a result, the idea of considering author intent was largely abandoned by literary scholars in the 1960′s, so the fact that it was still being taught to high school classes as late as the 00′s (and maybe even still today, but I’m out of touch with high school educations of the 10′s) is not just ridiculous, but rather deplorable. It did a disservice to multiple generations of students, and turned them off to something that’s a precious skill of tremendous importance: reading. Reading critically, specifically.

If you hated the idea of being told what the author thought, or what something symbolized in a book in high school, you were probably right, and your teacher was wrong. As the 20th century went on and the field of psychology developed, literary scholars came to realize that not all decisions in a book were conscious choices by the author. However, that doesn’t mean that those choices have no significance whatsoever. Remember that asterisk up above when I said that things were chosen arbitrarily? Well, we’ve come to understand that when it comes to a creative work, nothing is truly arbitrary, as the human subconscious is full of all sorts of weird things just waiting to get out. So if, for example, you’re writing a story and choose to use a blue door, that may not necessarily mean that you consciously intended for it to represent sadness. Instead, perhaps the scene in question reminded you of an experience you had as a child, where there was a blue door, and you drew upon that as you wrote. If someone were to ask you, “Why did you make this door blue?” you’d likely respond, “I don’t know. It doesn’t really mean anything,” but the reality is that it DOES mean something, it just wasn’t an intentional choice. The author made a correlation in their own subconscious that informed their work, and we may never be able to know exactly why that choice was made.

Thus, the deeper we delve into the idea that the author doesn’t necessarily consciously control every element of their work, the more we undermine the idea of the author as an expert of their own work. That’s why in modern literary analysis, scholars will explicitly ignore things that an author says about their own work (in most cases), and why we don’t usually ask authors questions like “what does this mean?” anymore.

That’s because there’s been a larger paradigm shift in our understanding of literature; we’ve shifted from using literature to explore the one specific person who wrote it to instead using literature to explore humanity. That is, to explore everyone who isn’t the author. And as every reader of a given text has a unique set of experiences and associations, there are huge numbers of possible readings of any single given work.

Often, scholars will perform a reading of a work according to a given critical framework, such as a feminist reading, where they read the text for feminist themes, or a Marxist reading, where they read the text for classist themes. But these themes all exist separately and together all at once, and there’s no longer any misapprehension that we’ve “solved” a text, and have come up with the single, unchanging meaning of the work. That’s because the things that are important about a given work aren’t the things that the author intended to put in it, but the things that the readers took away from it.

What’s It All For, Though?

Thanks, I’m glad you asked! Seriously, though, what’s the point of studying literature from 1597 or 1895 or whatever? You probably thought something like, “I understand why we should read these things in order to understand the greater context of the works of today, but why do we need to analyze them? It seems like a waste of time, and like it doesn’t accomplish anything.”

Well, I can see why you’d feel that way. Performing a poststructuralist analysis of a novel from the 1800′s, for example, may not seem like it accomplishes much. No one is going to use that analysis to stop people going hungry, or create peace in the world. Then again, neither will most work done in America.

What literary analysis does, though, is provide insights into humanity itself, and our search for meaning, not just of our own lives, but of the human condition. Learning it in high school helps guide students toward critical, self-evaluative thinking in a way that no other class does. When there’s no “right” answer, students need to be able to evaluate a text, identify correlative elements, and create an argument around them. That’s a valuable skill on its own.

What’s even more exciting is that as you progress in literary criticism, you come to understand that a “text” is more than just a book. A video game can be a text. A TV show. Even a billboard. Or a chair. Anything created by humans is something that can be analyzed and interpreted. So literary criticism is sort of a middle ground between philosophy and anthropology; it studies things that humans have made, and asks the question, “What does this mean?”

If you don’t care what things mean, and how the things surrounding you in your life fit together into a framework that helps explain who we are, where we are, and where we’re going, then cool. You don’t have to, and that’s fine. But that’s what literary analysis is for, and maybe now you understand why people want to do it. I hope, too, that you can forgive your English teacher for lying to you; they likely didn’t know they were doing it, and they were probably just trying to do their best to help you learn and grow as a person.

Also, you can abandon your dreams of going back in time to ask an author what they meant in the hopes of proving your teacher wrong. You can now prove them wrong without going anywhere at all!

[justjen523]

The Fantasy (Part 1)

MC x Leon

Rating E (18+)

For my girlie @thecelestiallibra  Thank you for the trade of a lifetime for me! You’re my hero!

The steam flooded the room as I closed the door behind me. It had been a long day at work and I was glad to finally be home alone in my apartment taking a long hot shower.

I was happy to finally have a day off even if it wasn't truly the case. Sure, I didn't have my job to go to but I had promised the gods I would assist them tomorrow. Not that I was complaining. No, not if he was going to be there.

I'm not sure when exactly it began but I started developing feelings for a certain someone. A fact even I hadn't accepted until the first night I dreamt of us in bed together. The dream had felt so real I hadn't been able to even look him in the eyes since. It didn't get any easier either as I continued to have those vivid dreams. My ever growing hunger for him manifesting in my sleep. It wasn’t like I was ever going to tell him. What would he ever want with a mere human like me?

That didn’t stop me from fantasizing though. Especially as the hot water trickled down my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined his fingertips touching my body all over. I bit my lip as the water poured through my hair and again I imagined it was him combing his fingers through. Pulling my fingers along my skin, sending droplets of water flying in every direction I whispered his name into the empty room.

“Leon.” Digging my nails into my skin, I lightly raked them over my breasts as streams of water cascaded downward. Just imagining it almost made it feel real, I desired it that badly. It was sinful and dirty but it was my secret and mine alone. What did it matter if I pleasured myself and pretended it was him?

As my hands traversed my body the warmth of the water caressed me as if it were a lover. My head fell back as I slid my fingers between my legs and from my lips only one word spilled forth over and over. “Leon.”

************

A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her every movement within his room. Door shut and appropriately locked if for no other reason than to avoid the antics of that goddamn fish for one evening.

“My what a naughty goldfish.” His grin widened as he watched her caress her own body, his name falling from her luscious lips. As her fingers slipped inside his eyes narrowed mischievously.

“Oh-ho? You think that could even compare to the real thing? How about....I give you a little taste.” He raised his hand and snapped his fingers before mimicking her own hands movements flawlessly like a puppet. She had no idea he could actually pull the strings.

************

I had the perfect rhythm as I continuously pushed and pulled my fingers and I felt the familiar warmth begin to gather at my core. Oh how I wished it really were him and not just me pleasuring myself. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to curl my fingers in such a way I gasped when I realized it pushed against my sweet spot and momentarily stopped. What on Earth inspired me to do that? Up till now I had no idea I could even do that.

However I didn’t think on it too long as a newly found hunger rose within me and once more it didn’t take long till I was moaning his name. Then, almost like lightning something strange surged through my body from the tips of my fingers and toes all the way down to my core. It was so overwhelming yet felt so unimaginably good I cried out in sheer ecstasy. It continued even without me touching myself till I could no longer stand alone and leaned against the tile as the water continued to wash over me.

When the orgasm itself actually hit, it was so intense I screamed his name as tears fell from my eyes. When it finally subsided after several long moments, I collapsed to the ground, panting wildly as I tried to catch my breath. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware the steam and hot water was too much and making me woozy on top of everything else. Just as my vision wavered and began to blur, a sudden blast of cool air fell over me effectively extinguishing the encroaching dizzy spell.

When my baring's returned, it was then that I realized I was no longer in my shower. Nor was I in my apartment for that matter and as that reality hit home, I also realized I was still completely naked and dripping wet. Instinctively my eyes shot up and what they fell upon knocked the wind from me.

“L-L-Leon!” He sat in a chair beside his bed, one leg crossed lazily upon the other as he grinned at me devilishly. 

“It would seem goldfish that your little bowl was not large enough to satisfy you.” His look was purely predatory and I fell speechless, utterly horrified at my current predicament. Still smirking he slowly got to his feet and made his way toward me languidly, his eyes never once leaving mine. When he stood before me towering from above, his fingers gently brushed along my wet skin before gripping my chin firmly in his warm fingers.

“It’s not every day a fish offers itself as a meal.” O-Oh my goodness...his eyes are....so beautiful.

"I.... I....." There was no way I could form a complete sentence and then I remembered I was completely naked and tried covering myself.

"Pffft, why are you trying to hide yourself from me? Do you honestly believe I haven't already seen every inch of your naked flesh?" My cheeks suddenly burned furiously.

"Silly goldfish, how presumptuous to believe that you could hide your fantasies from me." His powerful aura swallowed the entire room and I trembled with a mix of fear and excitement as I lowered my head.

"I-I'm...sorry, I d-d-didn't mean to offend you...." I still couldn't bring myself to look at him but I heard him laugh.

"Then how will you make it up to me?" His voice, while deep and powerful sounded nothing but amused and playful.

“Errr.....I-I....what would you like for me to do?” 

“Let’s start with whatever I tell you to do.” The tips of his fingers grazed my scalp so softly goosebumps erupted down my neck and arms at the sensation. I clenched my eyes shut trying hard not to make a sound at how unbelievably good it felt. I heard him chuckle darkly before crossing the room once more and returning to his seat in the chair beside his bed.

“For starters, don’t do that.”

“D-Do what?”

“Miserably fail at trying to hide your feelings from me. I know everything about you.”

“I umm....”

“I know everything you desire or have you forgotten who it is that I am little goldfish?” Finally finding the courage I raise my head and our eyes meet making me freeze like a deer in headlights. There is an almost otherworldly glow in his fiery sensual gaze as he continues to smile in a very sinister way. It takes a moment for the words to register but when they do I feel a pit deep inside my stomach. No way, had he seen...my dreams? Oh my god! Was he watching me just moments ago when I was....

“From that expression you must have just figured out exactly who I am and what I’m capable of.”

“Oh my god....I’m.....so ashamed and so embarrassed!” I hide my face in my hands desperately praying the floor will swallow me whole. 

“Oh-ho? Which part? Fantasizing about me so much that you dream of it every night or being so naïve to believe you are even capable of fathoming just what I am capable of?” Mortified would be an understatement. I wish I would disappear.

“Pffft, disappear? Whatever for? Or have you already forgotten that you have yet to satisfy me? It must be nice to have the memory of a goldfish.” 

“Y-You read my mind?!”

“Of course not. Though it seems you need reminding that I am the Minister of Wishes. I hear your every desire, your every wish no matter how frivolous or silly.” 

“I-I’m sorry!”

“Boring.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want your apologies.”

“I-I don’t think I understand.”

“How very unsurprising.” Embarrassed at his incessant insults I once more hid my face from him feeling a nearly unbearable burning sensation throughout my face, neck and ears. Several moments passed in silence before he finally spoke.

“Show me.”

“W-What?”

“Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Spread your legs and touch yourself.” A deep shade of crimson had to be clearly visible due to the intense heat that radiated from my skin.

“Y-You want me to...”

“Touch yourself. It’s not as if you are incapable, especially considering your performance a short while ago.” 

“I don’t think I can....I..”

“Too embarrassed? There’s no need, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you do it.” An incredibly smug smile pulled the corner of his lips into a smirk letting me know I had never had any privacy when it came to Leon and my fantasies. 

“How many times have you wished for this to be real? Yet here you sit with the very opportunity and yet you hesitate.” I wasn’t sure what to do. Part of me wanted this more than my lungs wanted air, yet I was so afraid he would simply laugh and I don’t think I could bear it.

“If I was completely uninterested you wouldn’t be sitting naked in my room. If you want my attention however, you’re gonna have to earn it. Entertain me, show me what you are willing to do to please me and just maybe I will take mercy on you by showing you what it means to experience love from a god.” A soft gasp slid from my lips at just exactly what those words meant. H-He would.....with me? For a moment there was ringing in my ears and my heart was thrumming so loudly it would put a drum to shame. After a few deep breaths I centered myself and met his stare once more.

With new found resolve I repositioned myself to give him the best view. After an internal deep breath I slowly spread my legs apart for him to see. I was relieved to find a carnal smirk looking upon me seemingly pleased. 

“Good girl. Now, touch yourself the way you always do, pretending it’s me.” Though still nervous his command had lit a fire within me that began to blaze. There was no turning back, I had to put on a good show, I had to please him.

“Nmmm.....” I breathed as I slowly pulled my fingers along my slit all the while watching him watch me. 

“More.” He commanded shifting in his chair to get a better view. I followed his instructions and began to pleasure myself for the god of Leo who was now staring at me like a beast with its prey cornered. I was so wet despite being nervous making it very easy when he next instructed me to add a finger.

My heart leapt into my throat when he slid from his chair to the floor crawling slowly over to me staring hungrily at my pussy. My entire body trembled as his form closed in on me with such power radiating from him it was palpable. 

“L-Leon...” I whimpered his name when he hovered above me watching me with glowing eyes, a wild and hungry expression meeting mine. His form slowly lowered before he whispered in my ear.

“Does it feel good? The way you imagine me touching you?” I couldn’t even find words to respond making him chuckle darkly in response.

“Close your eyes.” He instructed in a softer voice, still deep and rich sounding and nearly a purr. I did as instructed and after enjoying the show a while he ordered me to stop causing a wave of frustration as I was starting to build towards release. 

“Spread your legs wider.” Eyes still closed and feeling exceptionally vulnerable I slowly spread them further apart wondering what he was planning on doing. Nothing was happening so I was starting to wonder if I should dare open my eyes just a little when the sensation of a warm tongue slowly lapped its way up my sex making me cry out in a mix of surprise and pure ecstasy. 

“L-Leon! Oh my....Oh my god!” His tongue explored every inch of my womanhood making me writhe and moan at his mercy. He closed his entire mouth around me swirling his tongue before sucking tightly and pulling away sharply. 

“Not bad, not bad at all for a goldfish. Now let’s see how tight you are.” Without any warning his slid a finger in my entrance before plunging it as deeply as he could. I opened my eyes to find his dangerously close to mine causing me to inhale sharply at his close proximity. 

Almost as if to tease he held eye contact before withdrawing the finger and sucking it into his mouth. His sharp feline like eyes held me captive as he smiled, continuing to lick my taste from his finger. I stared at him in wonder, his beauty and magnificence utterly hypnotizing. 

"Nmm..." I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I had never felt anything like this before. It was as though the energy surrounding me was intoxicating me. I couldn't resist him even if I wanted to. I was under his spell and completely submissive.

"Tell me goldfish, do you know what my special ability is?" He purred as he dragged the pads of his fingers lightly up my torso setting my skin on fire. Unable to speak I merely shook my head as his smile grew wider.

"Would you like me to show you?" Lost in his fiery eyes I nodded. He leaned in and softly placed a kiss upon my lips causing my body to burn up.

"You can be as loud as you like." He snickered before claiming my lips once again. His hot tongue licked across my lips and demanded entry. When I opened my mouth against his, our tongues entwined slowly. His gently licked across mine causing a tsunami between my legs. A moment later his hand covered my sex and rubbed gently as I undulated against it, my body screaming for his touch.

His individual fingers pulled up and down my wetness making me whimper into his mouth. A finger easily slid inside followed by another. We built a steady rhythm together as his long, elegant fingers thrusted perfectly in and out of me.

"Hold on tight little goldfish, I am going to show you the power of a god." With his guidance, I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed. His mouth hungrily claimed mine once more and then it happened. The same incredible sensation flooded my body like it had in the shower only it was dialed way up this time. It surged forth from his fingers deep within me commanding every cell in my body to bend to his will.

It was electric and powerful stealing my breath away as it filled my entire body with warmth and ecstasy I could never have fathomed. I wanted to cry out, make audible the exquisite bliss this merciful god had bestowed upon me. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes as every inch of me followed his silent instruction like a conductor guiding an orchestra. My heated blood rushed hurriedly toward my core with such vigor my body began to quake.

"I won't allow you to come until you beg." He teased holding me at the precipice of release.

"P-P-Please Lord Leon, I b-beg for your m-mercy. Allow me to.....unnnnh......let go...pleeeease!" I cried as my eyes strained to hold back the flood of tears building further.

"Well done." The orgasm washed over me with such insane intensity I felt my mind begin to short circuit. I screamed so loudly my lungs and throat burned as every muscle in my body contracted upon his command.

His lips trailed softly along my skin before burying his face in my neck as my naked and helpless form shuddered in the aftershocks of post orgasmic bliss. My eyes though blurred with tears stared blankly at the ceiling above me as my erratic breaths eventually slowed.

"Pace yourself goldfish. We have only just begun." His breath tickled the tender flesh along my ear causing me to sigh in temporary contentment.

[dreadhaus-literature]

{January Collection} #15

Your City’s Oldest Cemetery

Theme: Tender Tuesday

Something wicked this way comes...

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Monica resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she was helpless against the smile that blossomed on her lips. “That’s a song, Dot, not some cutesy line you can use to win me over.”

“The fact that it’s a song doesn’t make it any less meaningful, love, especially if I call every radio station in Gotham and dedicate said song to you.”

“Please don’t do that. I promise I’m not upset at you.”

Monica glanced up at the cemetery’s iron wrought gates as they swung open, heralding her arrival to no one, as waking the dead was only a game children and teens played on Halloween. Considering it was January in Gotham City, the snow made the graveyard even colder than it stood to be on a good day, and made Monica rethink her previous statement.

Of course, she wasn’t actually mad at her girlfriend. This is what you do when you love someone, you do favors for them when they ask--or in Dot’s case, beg, because her girlfriend’s mortuary was teeming with bodies and the Mortician was swamped. Gotham was the seedier sister city of the shining Metropolis and it showed, even if one only took Dot’s Mortuary’s booming business as an indication. “It’s a morbid thing, to brag about our successful business in death,” Dot had once joked at a benefit gala the two had attended. “But hey, if the casket fits.” The casket was fitting a lot of hosts lately, all shapes and sizes, but thankfully Monica wasn’t transporting any bodies, today. Dot usually kept her away from that side of the business--not because Monica couldn’t handle it, but because Dot was overprotective. Even today, the haul was more of the same, and Dot was insistent that would never change.

“You’re Broadway’s biggest star, how could I possibly have you carting bodies around? Your fans would have me killed, and then you’d be transporting my body. No, this is just a simple headstone drop-off and flower deposit. I just need you to supervise the assistants while they do it.”

Monica shifted the phone, glancing around the SUV at the assistants that were currently with her while Dot half-sang the song dedication in her ear. The one across the backseat from her smiled politely at her. They all seemed so business-as-usual but Monica could appreciate that--she also appreciated they all treated her with reverence and respect, and not just because she was the Boss’s Girlfriend, but because she’d more than earned her own merit. Dot hadn’t been exaggerating, even if Monica was too polite to lead with the truth. She was the biggest star on Gotham’s Broadway; her name had been lighting up the street for months now, headlining Royal Truths: Betrayal, which was actually the second installment of the Royal Truths series. Monica had been a breakout star in the original Royal Truths and a natural headliner when the second act was ready to debut. Heralded as Gotham’s “Golden Voiced Siren,” Monica was beloved for her haunting voice and her classic beauty, and her off-stage pin-up look was sweeping Gotham so that fashion magazines were calling her manager all hours of the day trying to get the scoop on what her next new trend would be. It might seem a little beneath her to be managing Mortuary business, but Monica didn’t mind doing favors for her girlfriend, and Dot was always incredibly grateful for the help.

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon but Winter was solely to blame for that, the hour wasn’t late at all. Monica didn’t mind, however; she didn’t have rehearsal tonight and Dot had promised a nice, home-cooked meal in exchange for this little favor. The two rarely were able to eat at home, what with a Mortuary to run and Monica lighting up the night with her 5-star performances, so it was something both women were looking forward to. Really all that stood between Monica and their high-rise penthouse was this final task and it made her that much more eager to get it done and over with. She answered Dot a little absently as the SUV took a slow turn and then coasted to a stop, the driver shifting to park and the assistants immediately began to exit the vehicle.

“Oh, I think we’re here, baby, so I’m going to go, so I can get this done and then meet you at home.”

“Okay! Be safe, please, and text me when you’re on your way. I’ll see you at home.”

Monica smiled as she nodded. “Be safe getting home.”

“Always.”

Monica’s manicured nail tapped to end the call and as she was lowering her phone, she met one of the assistant’s gazes as he opened the back hatch of the SUV.

“We shouldn’t take too long, ma’am. You don’t need to get out of the truck unless you’d like to.”

“Thank you, Orlando,” Monica shifted, but another assistant was already there, opening the door for her. The second SUV in the convoy had arrived and the assistants were already exiting it, beginning their tasks--just as eager to get home as Monica was. “And thank you, Ian,” Monica added with a smile as she stepped from the SUV. Ian pushed the door closed with a smile and a nod, before moving to help Orlando get the floral arrangements out of the truck. “Do you have a lot to do?” Monica came around the side of the truck, watching the two men heft a large floral wreath from the trunk.

“No,” Ian shook his blond head. “Just a few set-ups, it shouldn’t take us more than fifteen minutes?”

“Eh, let’s make it a half hour,” Orlando corrected. “If we rush, Ms. Dreadful will make us come back. And if Ms. Dreadful makes us come back--”

“Ain’t nobody gonna be happy.”

Monica couldn’t help but laugh as every single assistant answered all at the same time, their joint reply all aimed at Orlando. Monica knew him to be one of the senior assistants who had been with the Mortuary for a long time, so he had seniority and rank, but he wasn’t over-bearing about it. He couldn’t even help the good-natured laugh at his own expense.

“Yeah, yeah, so move your asses but do it right, please.”

Monica’s sole role was simply being present to make any managerial decisions in Dot’s place should anything last minute arise, but normally those sorts of emergencies were few and far between, and it didn’t take more than a few minutes of supervising for Monica to tell this was going to be another routine evening. The assistants knew what to do, they were paid well enough to do it right, and Monica went from scrolling through her phone, sitting on the truck’s open back hatch, to glancing around Grimwood Cemetery. Unlike Gotham Cemetery, which was across the city, Grimwood became the resting place for the majority of the population. It was a little classist, sure, but there was an unspoken yet routinely followed rule that anyone of note was buried in Gotham Cemetery--the Wayne family, for example--whereas every day, normal people found themselves in Grimwood. Monica didn’t bat an eye at the difference between the two cemeteries, mostly because she knew she’d cemented herself so firmly in Gotham’s history that she could pick out a plot in Gotham Cemetery now and no one would bat an eye at it.

It was a common misconception that Gotham Cemetery was older than Grimwood, but in reality, bodies had just been relocated out of Grimwood to what is the new Gotham Cemetery. It’s a pretty well-kept secret, that Grimwood was once Gotham Cemetery, but was rebranded a half-century previous, the important bodies all moved, and people began speaking of “Gotham” as Grimwood.

“Gotham Cemetery? Oh, you mean Grimwood. Gotham’s on the other side.”

No, you had it right the first time, but that’s the thing about lies and secrets--you tell them enough, you’ll believe anything. Monica only knew because Dot was “in-the-know”, and Monica had to admit she got a good laugh anytime any of the “new money” of Gotham tried to put on airs about plots in Gotham Cemetery without knowing the truth behind the lie. Yes, Gotham Cemetery is important, now, but the fact of the matter is--

There’s still important, old parts of Grimwood that Monica would argue are worth far more than any plot in Gotham Cemetery. It’s where she found herself out of boredom, designer boots crunching through snow as she wound her way down the path between mausoleums and tombstones, idly wondering at the names etched into marble and stone. The further she went, the more distant the working assistants became, but she didn’t worry too awful much about them. She wasn’t here to baby-sit, after all, and she had her phone if they needed to call her for an emergency. It also spoke for itself that the further she went, the more timeworn and difficult to read the headstones became. The path took a steep curve down and she passed through a fence with no gate, simply an archway, but the grave markers beyond this point seemed kissed by Father Time himself.

This was Old Grimwood, graves from centuries ago, and despite the serenity of the snow, the silence was deafening and the air seemed just a little more crisp, here. Monica was overly aware of the crunch of her boots as she took in the scenery, from the barren, twisted trees curving and winding over her head, to the shadows from the path lights that danced through the twinkling snow banks. Some of the tombstones here were so old they were destroyed, collapsed onto their grave like the dust in the coffins beneath the earth. Graveyards are not known for the living, but Monica truly felt the dead space, here. It was...oddly comforting, the stark silence, the barren banks of snow and dead flora, even the bite of wind. It may seem, to some, a strange place to find inspiration, but Monica was tempted to sing, to harmonize using the quiet air as her orchestra. She quelled the urge, but couldn’t stop herself from humming all the same, reaching out to touch a frozen mausoleum door as she went. Her voice carried on the frozen wind, the dulcet tone a caress that some won’t have felt for centuries.

Not everything is dead in Old Grimwood. Some things just need a reason to rise.

The sound initially sounded, to Monica, like ice cracking. She stopped dead in her tracks, wondering at the echoing sound. It reverberated off the surrounding mausoleums and the solid tree trunks, the wind howling it’s displeasure at the macabre turn of events in a place where everything should be quiet, still, dead. The twilight sky darkened, and for one terrible moment Monica felt a shiver of fear from some unknown source, her instincts sounding warning bells that something was wrong. She held her breath as she glanced to her left and then her right, but there was nothing--the echoing was throwing her, warping her sense of direction and she realized too late the sound was coming from behind her. From the direction she’d come and as she slowly turned to look over her shoulder, she felt the air slam out of her lungs as the earth heaved and rolled a few feet behind her. What was happening?! For the first time in her life, Monica understood why some horror movie heroines stand, frozen in terror, uncertain what to do when faced with something otherwordly for the first time. The earth buckled, then seemed to cave into itself, bowing the headstone that rested at the top of the marked grave.

Cyrus Gold 18??-1895 Born on a Monday.

Monica could barely make out what it said, the stone looked so worn and old, and her terrified gaze was soon ripped from the stone entirely as electricity seemed to skitter across the frozen earth and snow--before a plume of dirt shot skyward. In the quiet of the graveyard it seemed deafening, but the silence that followed was even louder. Monica was rooted to the spot, uncertain what to do in a situation such as this. To get back to where she’d come, to the safety of the assistants and the sanity of normality, she’d have to run past an open grave...that had opened itself.

“What the hell even is Gotham City,” Monica muttered to herself as she folded her arms over her chest “It’s not wonder even my grandfather keeps asking me to move.”

She’d thought talking to herself would break the awful silence and she’d feel comfortable enough to move, but it seemed her voice did something else--it spurred someone else to move, and a guttural groan echoed out of the freshly opened grave. The sound was deep and low, rumbling up Monica’s boots as she took a frightened step back.

Oh...no, there’s absolutely no way in hell...Zombies aren’t real, right? Sure, Monica loved the zombies from horror movies and video games, and she could tout the title Queen of the Zombies like nobody’s business. Her Zombie Pin-Up from last Halloween’s Gala had been the top hash-tag in Gotham City for two weeks. But this? This was real life, this was happening, and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

A hand larger than she’d ever seen shot out of the open grave and slammed down on the frozen snow with such force Monica nearly fell over. She could only watch with wide, terrified eyes as a hulking behemoth of a man dragged himself from the split in the earth. The creature’s suit was in tatters, the white button-up missing entirely, likely rotted away, and revealing a physique and height any normal man would be wise to envy. He didn’t look rotted, but his skin had a disturbing pallor to it all the same. As he struggled to gain control of his motor skills, Monica watched silently as his bones creaked and cracked into place, putting him at over seven feet tall. He was flesh and blood, with the veins and muscle mass to prove it. As he straightened up, his eyes opened and she was greeted with milky white, but for some reason she just knew he could see her. She felt nailed to the ground, rooted to the spot as he sized her up, his silver-white hair neglected and hanging in uneven strands below his prominent brow bone. This...creature’s bone structure was something to envy, all square-cut and masculine, and Monica felt her heart drop into the center of her stomach as he took a single step toward her.

“Speak.”

Monica flinched as if he’d yelled at her, but he hadn’t. She wasn’t prepared for that voice. It was deep and commanding, as if time-tested and unafraid of even death. The creature followed his first step with a second as he waited for her to do what he said. When she didn’t, he raised his voice and tried again.

“Speak!”

“W-What?! What the h-hell are you asking me?” Monica cried, clutching the neck of her jacket defensively, but she’d done what he wanted and his entire body seemed to shudder as her voice washed over him. He actually staggered, but kept upright, and took another step toward her. Monica took one back. “W-What...What a-are you?”

“Solomon Grundy.”

Monica didn’t know if he was actually answering her or if that was just...him talking. Was she actually conversing with...with a real life zombie?

Unbeknownst to her, Monica’s inner turmoil, confusion, and fear was providing exactly what Solomon needed as he willed his new body to move faster, to close the distance between them quickly. He hadn’t been expecting this but when one’s experienced death, one learns to adapt quickly. He’d been sleeping so peacefully, soaking up the nutrients the earth had to offer so that he might one day rise again, but in a single instant the chord from her voice had rejuvenated him in his entirety. Solomon was whole--he didn’t need weeks, months, years in stasis. This woman had done it in an instant. Solomon didn’t understand how or why but he didn’t need to. He was a man of simple things, now, and what he understood, simply, was that she had done it. Had she done it on purpose? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. She’d done it, and that meant something. What did it mean? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter because a zombie only cares about one thing--

It’s baser instincts and needs.

What he needed was right in front of him. He staggered, lurched toward her like a man grasping at the edges of his grave but Solomon has been there, done that, and it didn’t matter where this beautiful woman went, he was a zombie. Zombies are relentless. He would find her, track her down, and break her for daring to run from him--but she wasn’t running. No, she was staying, standing, staring up at him with fear in her eyes but all Solomon could see was beauty. It was akin to Hades falling for Persephone, the beautiful flower growing in Death’s palm, and he was all too aware of how breakable, how fragile, how small she was. A tiny miracle, a winter rose blooming between the ice cracks. Solomon was a simple man, these days. Zombies only want what they need and Solomon knew in an instant what he needed. A normal man night brood, or question what he was feeling, but Solomon didn’t need to. And he didn’t much care if Monica would need time to come to terms with what he already needed.

Her.

“P-Please, d-don’t,” Monica stammered as the creature drew up before her, realizing far too late she should have run but honestly, would her legs have carried her? She didn’t know; they felt like buckling, now.

Solomon didn’t speak, not at first. He lifted one hand, his palm alone larger than Monica’s face. His muscles seemed to strain with the need to be gentle, but Monica was all too aware of the crushing power behind that giant hand. She flinched as he touched her, made a noise that he felt straight to his curiously beating heart. He was cupping her cheek, his skin like frozen stone against hers.

“Your name.”

Monica swallowed thickly, but couldn’t get past the lump in her throat. She tried to shy away from his hand, but Solomon’s rumbling growl stopped her from moving any further way from him, and he repeated his demand, sharp and heavy like a timeworn stone.

“M-Monica.”

“Monica.”

Solomon tested the name with his tongue and found it sweet; it lingered like wine and reminded him of the warmth of sun upon his dead skin. His eyes actually closed and there was that curious shudder in his hulking frame, as if he couldn’t handle anything to do with her. With Monica.

“Solomon Grundy.” Solomon patted his chest with his other hand, and Monica couldn’t believe she was...having a conversation with a zombie in Gotham’s oldest cemetery.

“N-Nice...to meet you, Solomon.” She didn’t know what else to say, but could tell immediately that disrespecting Solomon wouldn’t be wise. His body posture seemed to both relax and yet tense at her words, as if he loved what she said but couldn’t take how sweet her voice was.

“Again.”

“W-What?”

“Say name again!”

Monica repeated his name, and Solomon’s brutish fingers tightened, crushing the silk of her hair between his dead digits. He hadn’t meant to startle her by raising his voice but he’d grown desperate in that instant, to cling to the feeling of her saying his name. She had such a sweet voice, he could hardly take it, much like an addict craves just one more potent hit. She’d somehow completed him, made him whole, and her voice was the key to his heart, her touch would be what sustained him, her body would be what gave him life. Solomon’s impossibly broad shoulders hunched and blocked out the icy wind as he curved protectively, possessively around his new woman.

“Mine.”

Monica instinctively began to shake her head.

“Monica mine.”

Solomon ground out his demand so close to Monica’s cheek she flinched and tried to shrink away from him but there was nowhere to go. She could only tremble helplessly as Solomon’s arms closed around her, his bone-crushing fingers shaking as he tried to be gentle but she knew, she just knew if she pushed he wouldn’t be.

When Monica fell still in his embrace, Solomon smiled. It was more a baring of teeth, but the Zombie had time to learn how to smile like a man, again. He had a reason, like the sailors of long-lost seas who chased sirens in the dark. Solomon may be a simple man but he’s a man who knows what he wants. What he needs.

Monica.

And she’ll need him back, in time. The Beauty always needs her Beast.

[lostinreality014]

Crossfade

Author’s Notes: In my mind, this piece is a chapter to story that I may not ever write. While this piece is purely fan fiction, it is quite personal and very close to my heart. There are aspects of this piece that I have experienced in my own life which, in some ways made it very easy for me to write. But it was also terrifying to write because of the anxiety I feel putting a fairly big piece of myself out there. I truly and honestly don’t know if I’ll ever develop a full story for this. I have lots of ideas, but they’re not ideas that can be formulated into a story at the moment. Hopefully one day I will write it. But until then... I wanted share this part of it with you.

Also note: This piece is also posted on my WATTPAD account

I have to say a massive, massive thank you to @wdmsusie for being my beta to this piece, for all of her invaluable input, and for assuring me my writing doesn’t completely suck. 

Emerson was sitting on the sofa with the TV tuned in to reruns of Will and Grace to keep her company until Niall returned home. She had left his single release party around 10, and to say she was not in a good mood would be an understatement. Since her knee injury a few weeks ago, it had been a struggle both mentally and physically on a daily basis. Even though she was thrilled for Niall and so proud of him for everything he was accomplishing so far as a solo artist, she found it incredibly hard to not be in a constant state of jealousy. And while things had been rough between them the last two or three months, and especially since her surgery, she had been determined to put their issues and her own struggles aside so as not to take away from his special day.

The reruns of her favorite show, also turned on as a means of distraction, were doing a poor job of keeping the memories from the day she learned her career was over from playing on a loop in her head. She supposed that's what she got for knowing the episodes so well. Initially the doctors had thought her injury wasn't as serious as it was. Her MRI results showed otherwise. They showed a complete tear of her ACL rather than a minor tear as was originally thought. The moment the doctors explained the full extent of her injury and the surgery she would need, she knew her dance career was over. Thankfully, Niall had been able to reschedule the couple of meetings he'd had the day she got the news of her MRI results so he could be there with her. While she didn't handle the news well at all, she knew she wouldn't have handled it as well as she did if Niall hadn't been there with her.

Dance was who Emerson was. Her dad had enrolled her in ballet lessons for her fifth birthday and she'd fallen in love immediately. And one of the things she had struggled with the most since her surgery was knowing the one thing that made her feel like she had a purpose in the world and made her feel like she belonged somewhere, she no longer had. Dance had been her outlet; her way of conveying her thoughts and feelings. When words failed her, dance was there. Being a professional ballet dancer didn't pay as well as other jobs would have, and it certainly didn't pay anywhere near the kind of money Niall brought in with his career, but she'd been happy. And she'd been able to support herself and also send some extra money back to her dad in Toronto long before her and Niall had started dating and he'd asked her to move in with him.

What hurt as much as losing her career was knowing her dad had lost just as much. He was her biggest fan and supporter. And even though he hadn't been able to fly to London to visit her very often, anytime she called to tell him she'd been cast in a lead role, or a role that meant a lot to her, he found a way be in the audience on her opening night. He'd sacrificed so much for her, so much more than any single parent should have had to. There had been many times when they didn't have enough money to pay the bills and the only thing they had to eat was cereal and peanut butter sandwiches. But his little girl was his world, and his only concern was that she was happy.

Emerson's dad had done everything he could to make sure she got the training and education she needed to make her dream of becoming a professional ballet dancer a reality. And when she nearly turned down the offer to study at the Royal Ballet School in London on full scholarship following her performance at the Youth America Grand Prix competition, her dad refused to let her. Aside from losing his wife and mother of his only child, leaving Emerson in London after she was settled in was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he wasn't going to let her pass up the opportunity of a lifetime. When Emerson saw the tears of pure joy on her dad's face the day she graduated from Royal Ballet School and was offered a place in The Royal Ballet as a Soloist, she knew all the time spent apart and all the sacrifices he'd made had been worth it. And her dad had felt the exact same.

The commotion going on in the current episode snapped Emerson out of the place she'd gone to in her head. And when she got her bearings back and realized she was at home instead of Niall's release party, all of the frustration she'd felt earlier came flooding back because things had gone smoothly for the most part all day... until they weren't once at the party. There'd been plenty to do before having to get ready and then head to the venue so it'd been easy to keep herself distracted. But after being left alone for nearly an hour while Niall schmoozed it up with his friends and various industry people, she'd decided it was time to head home. She'd been to plenty of these events for the Royal Ballet before her injury, so she was well aware that people would be after Niall's attention all night. But she had hoped Niall would at least be nearby and include her in the conversations and celebration of his second single release as a solo artist.

The cab ride back home was spent dealing with the war going on inside of her head. She'd called Sadie and by the time the cab pulled into the drive, coming to a stop at the gate, Emerson had a plan. She was going to pack as much as she could in her two travel cases and wait for Niall to return home. Her mind was seventy-five percent made up about going back to Toronto to be with her dad for a few weeks while she started her knee rehabilitation, figuring out how to start over, and what she would do next. That other twenty-five percent wanted to stay in London. She knew her decision to stay or go to Toronto would largely depend on how the impending conversation with Niall went.

It was nearly midnight before she heard the front door open and close, signaling Niall was finally home. Emerson didn't bother getting up to greet him (not that she could have done that easily with her knee at the moment), nor did she acknowledge he was home until he had spoken to her first.

"Have you been here the whole time?" Niall asked, his tone tense and annoyed. Emerson held her gaze on the TV for a few seconds more before finally acknowledging him, sending visual daggers in his direction.

"Took you this long to notice I'd left?" she asked coldly.

"Noticed it when I came back with our drinks. Spent the last two hours tryin to find ya instead of enjoyin the evenin with ya."

"Enjoying it with me?" She laughed sarcastically. "You deserted me when you went to get our drinks."

"I wasn't gone that long," he huffed. Emerson raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was alone for nearly an hour before I decided to leave. I know we have no intention of making our relationship public knowledge to the whole world anytime soon, but enough people within your circle know we're together. And it's beyond humiliating to be at a table by myself with everyone throwing sideways glances at me and having to cover for you and say that you just stepped away to get us drinks when that wasn't the reality of the situation."

"I tried to get back to ya. I kept getting stopped every time I turned around because someone wanted to say hello or introduce me to someone."

"Yeah... I know how these parties work. I've been to a few of them myself. You are allowed to tell people that you'd be happy to meet someone or say hello, but you just need to step out for a moment and you'll be right back."

"Cause that's not rude when someone wants to introduce you to one of the top executives in the industry."

"But it's not rude to leave your girlfriend alone for nearly an hour?" she asked, her voice slightly higher than normal. "I'm sure whoever wanted to meet you would have understood. Record execs attend these parties all the time so I don't think they would have been offended that you needed to step out for a moment. And I don't think they would have been upset either if it took you a few minutes to get to them because other people want your attention." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Clearly it didn't occur to you to ask them, or others, to meet you at the table where you left me so I could have been included in some part of your evening."

"Not like you would have been there when I got back since you up and left and didn't even bother to tell me you were leaving." He snapped, his eyes flashing angrily at her.

Emerson watched him close his eyes as he made himself take a deep breath to keep his emotions in check. Arguing was something that Niall and Emerson didn't do very often. In fact, the number blow out arguments they'd had in the time that they'd known each other could be counted on one hand. Every time they had one of those arguments, they made it a point to remind themselves of their promise to communicate and be open with each other so they could hopefully avoid anything more than a heated conversation. And as much as they didn't want to get into another full blown argument tonight, they were both finding it increasingly difficult to keep their cool.

"I tried to tell you I was leaving. I called you and texted you. Multiple times. I never got a response."

"I left me phone in the car and didn't realize it. You could have tried to find me."

"You're really suggesting that to me right now? Especially when you know I haven't been cleared to put weight on my leg for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time? Hell I have a hard time getting around on these crutches as it is. And this damn contraption on my knee doesn't make it any easier."

"What the hell is with you lately?"

"What's with me?" Emerson laughed humorlessly. "Of course you haven't noticed. You've been too wrapped up in your own little world to notice or care for that matter."

"Notice what? That you've been clingy and needy as hell? And too busy acting like a jealous brat?" The moment he said it, he wanted to take it all back. He hadn't meant to lash out at her like that and he certainly hadn't meant to say those things. But this was a rare moment when his filter failed him and his temper got the better of him.

"That's low. Even for you," Emerson said softly, her voice trembling now. She'd done well with keeping the tears at bay, but that stung. A lot. His words had hit her with as much force as if she'd been physically punched in the stomach.

"Emmy..."

"Don't." she snapped. "Don't try to take it back. Clearly you meant it." She sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"No, I didn't." he said adamantly. "I didn't mean it."

"If you didn't mean it, you wouldn't have been thinking it in the first place. And for you to say it so easily, it's clear that you have been thinking it for a while." He opened his mouth to respond, but he had nothing. He had nothing because she was right. He hated that she was. Well she was right that the thought had been running through his mind lately. But he truly hadn't meant it. And knowing Emerson as well as he did, he knew trying to defend himself or apologize in this moment wouldn't help matters. It would just dig him in deeper.

"Since it seems you've forgot again," Emerson sneered, "I'm not physically capable of doing some things I normally can do on my own at the moment. I didn't realize asking for help or needing help doing some things made me clingy. I'm so sorry I'm such an inconvenience to you."

"You're not an inconvenience!" Niall exclaimed in exasperation.

"You sure have an odd way of showing it." She seethed. "I would have thought you'd be more understanding and sympathetic since you were in my position a few years ago." Emerson paused for a moment to take a breath. "I get how frustrating it is to be interrupted, especially when you're on a roll. But I've tried really hard to be considerate of you and the work you've been trying to get done. When you're home, I only ask you for help when I think you've reached a stopping point, or when you're not in the middle of keeping up with some golf tournament. Every time you complain when I ask for help, it makes me feel like I'm a burden to you."

"You're not a burden, Emmy! You're still recovering from major surgery. Of course you're going to need some help until you heal."

"Then don't act like it's the end of the fucking world when I ask for help. Surely you haven't forgot what it was like in the weeks after your knee surgery. If I'm not a burden or an inconvenience, the least you could do is help me out without all the moaning and groaning. I already feel guilty enough that I have to rely on you more than normal when you're busy working." Niall started to say something, but promptly shut his mouth. Again, Emerson had a point. And since he'd already shoved his foot in his mouth with his earlier comments about her being clingy and jealous, he knew it best to not say anything else for the moment.

"And that whole jealousy thing," Emerson said, her voice bitter. "You're right. I am jealous. But not for the reasons you think I am."

"I'm not following."

"Your knee surgery didn't end your career. Mine did. Do the math."

"Now who's acting like the world ended."

"Fuck you!" Emerson spat. "I can't believe you have the audacity to say that to me."

"There is more than one career out there. You can have any career you want."

"Are you serious right now?" she exclaimed. "I cannot believe those words just came out of your mouth. Of course there is more than one career out there. And maybe I could have any one of them. But they're not the careers I want, Niall. They're not the careers I poured my heart and soul into for years and spent hours training and practicing for. Do you really think that little of my career and my dreams?"

"Of course not!" He exclaimed. "Anyone who watched ya on stage or listened to ya talk about dancing could see how much ya love it. Anyone could see that's what ya were meant to do. Meself included."

"Really?! Because if you believe that, if you really knew how much I loved ballet like you claim you do, you wouldn't be brushing any of what I'm going through off as me overreacting and being jealous. If you really believe that I was meant to be a ballet dancer, you wouldn't be saying the shit you just did, and you would have noticed how much I'm struggling to cope with having my career taken away from me on top of trying to recover from my surgery."

"How would I know when you never talk to me anymore?!" He cried. Emerson laughed in disbelief.

"Don't you dare," her voice was so low is sounded like a growl, "Don't you dare pin this on me. Especially when you were calling me clingy not even two minutes ago. You sat on this couch with me and held me while I cried the day I was told my career was over and promised me that you'd be here for me. You promised me that you'd help me get through this and help me figure out how to start over. You have yet to follow through on either of those promises. And every time I try to talk to you when it seems like you show the slightest bit of interest in how I'm doing, or when I'm really struggling to cope with everything, I get interrupted by someone who needs you to be somewhere two days ago. And then I'm left in the dust wondering when I stopped being a priority in your life. When we stopped being a priority."

"How can you say that? You know you're a top priority to me." Emerson laughed again, but it was empty and hollow sounding.

"Do I know that? Because you haven't given me any reason in the last several weeks to believe I am. Or that we are."

"This is me life, Emmy. This is me job. I thought you knew what you were signing up for when we decided being friends wasn't enough for either of us."

"I'm well aware of what I signed up for." she snapped. "God you really can be an ass when you want to be. No..." she said firmly when he went to say something. "No. You've wanted me to talk to you, so I'm going to. And you're going to listen." He snapped his mouth shut.

"While my job may not have been as demanding as yours in some ways, I get that there are times when you have to drop everything on a moment's notice to take care of something. But for the most part, your career won't stop or end because you don't take care of something right this second. If I really am a priority in your life, you wouldn't put your work before your girlfriend every fucking time the phone rings. You would make it a point to tell whoever calls that unless it's an absolute emergency, you have something else that needs your attention at the moment and you'll be there as soon as you can. There'd be a balance between work and personal life, which we were doing pretty good at until I got injured. If I am a priority, you would have noticed how much I've been struggling since my surgery. And not just physically." Emerson carefully stood up and steadied herself, wincing slightly at the sharp pain that shot through her knee, before looking back up at him and carefully side stepping her way around the coffee table.

"But I see now that asking for help and asking to be a priority in your life that's at the very minimum, an equal priority to your job is asking too much of you."

"Where ya goin?" she could hear the confusion mixed with panic in his voice as she made her way toward the stairs and she hated that she was about to walk out on him. Whether that was for good or temporary, she didn't know yet.

"Back to Toronto to spend time with my dad for a while. I need to figure things out. And at least he'll be there to help me through all this since you're too busy being the mega pop star that you are." She knew that was a low blow coming from her, but she'd never held his career or music against him for the long stretches of time they spent apart from each other until this moment. And as selfish as it was, she didn't want her or their relationship to be low on the priority list anymore.

"That's not fair."

"And the way you treated me tonight is?! Or the way you've been treating me for the last few weeks since I've been cleared to do more than move from our bed to our couch and back again?" Emerson nearly yelled as she reached the top of the stairs.

"So you're just gonna leave?" He asked angrily, his voice slightly higher than usual.

"What reason do I have to stay?" she bit back, wishing she could storm down the hall like she wanted to.

"What reason?" Niall spluttered. "What about me? What about us?!" he exclaimed, the panic in his voice was evident.

Emerson was well aware of his fear of being without her. She was just as scared of being without him as well. They weren't dependent on each other to the point where they couldn't function on their own without the other being near, but they depended on each other a lot because their careers were similar in many ways. They were both the constant in each other's lives. The constant that kept them grounded when things started to get too overwhelming. But it was clear to her now that she couldn't stay. Not when the one person she really needed to help her navigate through the rough waters she's facing couldn't be bothered to be there for her. She knew deep in her heart that she needed to get away and clear her head for a little bit so she could figure out what she wanted to do next.

"It doesn't feel like there's much of an us anymore." she said as she hobbled into their bedroom.

Emerson's voice breaking and seeing her suitcases on their bed caused Niall to stop dead in the doorway of their bedroom. He'd honestly thought Emerson saying she was going back to Toronto was being said out of frustration and anger, which she had every right to be when he thought about it. He didn't think she'd actually leave and back down from the challenge of figuring out what to do next. It wasn't something Emerson did. If someone told her she couldn't do something, she'd find all the ways she could to prove them wrong. As he watched her slowly make her way across the room, he realized she was right that he hadn't given her any reason to stay. He hadn't followed through on his promises to her to be there for her and help her through this transition in her life.

"I love you, Niall. I truly am happy that things are going so well for you, and I'm so proud of you even if doesn't seem like I am. But it hurts to see you spend every day doing something you love and seeing your career as a solo artist take off. Part of your life was my life a few shorts weeks ago. And I don't want to look at you and feel that way because you deserve every good thing that is about to come your way. You worked so hard as part of the group, and you're working hard now to prove that you can be just as successful on your own. This knee injury and not being able to live out my dream anymore is unfortunate and something neither of us could control. If I stay, I'll end up resenting you more than I already do. And I don't want to resent you for living out your dreams and doing something you love. That's not fair to you." She paused and turned to take her suitcases off the bed and set them on the floor.

Niall debated whether or not to go over and help, not that he wanted to because he didn't want to her to leave but he also didn't want her to risk hurting her knee. But that nagging feeling in his stomach told him to stay put.

"You've watched what losing my career as done to me over the last few weeks. But you still don't see how much its affected me. And I'm starting to wonder if you ever will."

When she looked up and her eyes met his, Niall felt his heart flutter in his chest, and not in a good way. The pain in her eyes was like a flashing neon sign. In that moment, Niall was forced to admit to himself that he had no idea what Emerson was going through. He had no idea what it was like to have a career you loved suddenly taken away from you without any say in it. All those moments when someone called him and said they needed him to be somewhere for something and he went instead of staying with Emerson were now flashing through his mind at a rapid pace. He felt like a complete ass for putting his music first when he should have been putting her first. And he felt even worse for accusing her of being clingy when she was very clearly asking for his help.

"It would be so much easier to stay and figure out what's next if I had decided it was time to move on to the next chapter of my life. But it wasn't my decision. I was forced to retire because of this injury."

"I don't want you to leave." he said softly, debating whether or not it was safe to approach her. "You've never backed down from any challenge, no matter how tough it is. Anytime someone said you couldn't do something, you always proved them wrong. You going back to Toronto feels like you're running away."

"So I'm supposed to stay and try and figure out how to start my life over when being here is a constant reminder of everything that I had? I'm supposed to stay and figure out how to start over while watching you perform every night wishing it was me on stage? How is that fair to me? How is that going to help me move on?" He shrugged because he didn't know what to say, much less have an answer. And because the thought of her leaving in any capacity terrified him.

"If I asked you to stay and at least give it a try, would you?" his voice was so soft, but the fear in his tone was crystal clear.

"No," Emerson's voice was gentle, but sad. "Everything that's happened over the last couple of months, what's happened tonight, and since you got home especially, has shown me what I've been avoiding for a while now. I need to go back and be with my dad for a bit. I need to figure out how to start over and I can't do that in the city that held and still holds all my dreams. And I really need someone that can be my support system and be there for every step of my recovery and starting over."

"I know I've done a shit job of it lately. And you're right that I haven't given you much of a reason to stay. But I can be that person, Em. I can. Let me prove it."

"I know you can because you have been before. But I don't think you can this time. I have to accept that and so do you."

"No. We don't have to accept that."

"Yes. We do." Her voice was still gentle, but it was firm. "Be honest with yourself. Do you really think you'll be able to be there for me the way I'll need you to be, when you're about to go off on a massive promo tour for your new single?" His shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew she was right.

Niall knew in the pit of his stomach he wouldn't be able to be the support system she needed when he was in a different city every two days with all of his focus on promoting the new single. And for a split second, even though he knew it was completely unrealistic and would be nearly impossible for her as far as her rehab would go, he considered asking her to come with him on his promo tour.

"So where does that leave us?" he asked, slowly making his way toward her. "Does this mean we're over? Because I don't want us to be over." Emerson shrugged and tried to bite back the sob that was bubbling up in her throat when he took her hands and rubbed gentle circles to the backs of them with his thumbs.

"I don't want us to be over either," she hiccuped. She truly didn't want that. But she knew if they wanted their relationship to last, they couldn't keep going on like this. "But my head is all over the place and I can't think clearly. I just know that I need to get out of London for a while. And I think we could use some space ourselves. You just dropped another single, and you need to focus on that and whatever it is you need to do to finish the album so it can be released when you want it to be. I need to focus on the next phase of my rehab and taking care of me, both physically and mentally. Me staying isn't going to do either of us any good. Me staying will hold you back."

"You won't hold me back." He argued.

"I already am. We're both holding each other back as it is. This constant bickering that we've been doing, and taking out our frustrations on each other, it's not good for either of us. This isn't healthy. Maybe if we'd both paid a little bit more attention and communicated better like we promised ourselves after our last blow out argument, we could have avoided this whole situation." Emerson could see the wheels turning in his head and kept quiet, giving him the time to process his thoughts.

"I know it's too late for me to realize how much I've fucked up." Niall spoke softly after a minute or two. "And I'll do whatever it is I have to, to make it up to ya. I really don't want us to be over." The tears Emerson had been holding back spilled down her cheeks when his voice broke.

"I don't know if we need space or if we need to close ourselves off from everything and everyone for a couple of days and just talk and focus on us. But it seems like your mind is already made up. And if ya want to go back to be with your dad for a bit, if that's what ya think ya need, I won't stop ya." Emerson bit her lip when he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. She could see that as painful as it would be to let her go for a bit, he didn't want to force her into anything she didn't want to do.

"And you're right. I haven't been treatin ya the way you should be and deserve to be. I'm gonna kick meself in the ass for a long time about it. But I wanna to do whatever I can to help you because I love you and because you're the most important person in me life."

The small sob Emerson had held back a few minutes ago forced its way out of her throat against her will. And whether she wanted it or not, Niall wrapped her up in his arms and held her tightly, knowing this was going to be the last time for a while that he'd get to hold her and comfort her. He almost let out a sigh of relief when he felt her arms wrap around his waist, her hands fisting his shirt tightly. To him that was a positive sign. It was a sign that she still wanted him to be the person she turned to when things got tough. But it also made his heart squeeze uncomfortably in his chest because he could feel how much she'd missed being able to turn to him for comfort and reassurance when she'd needed it, and him, the most.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for ya like I promised I would be. I'm sorry I failed ya." he whispered against her ear, tears burning at the backs of his eyes as he loosened his hold and took a small step back from her, keeping his arms around her waist. He wasn't going to let go until she made that move. When Emerson finally looked up at him, he could have sworn he felt his heart crack inside his chest. And he hated himself even more for being a reason for the pain she was feeling.

"I'm sorry too." she whispered, hiccuping softly.

"I know I don't have the right to ask, but please don't leave. Let me hold you tonight and be there for ya like I should have been. Ya can talk to me if ya want, or not. Just give me one more night." he pleaded softly.

"You won't try to convince me to stay?" Niall took a shuddering breath, a tear rolling down his cheek much to his dismay. He hated himself for giving her any reason to think that he would try to change her mind when it was already made up.

"No. If ya still want to go back to Toronto in the morning, I won't stop ya. I'll drive ya to the airport meself."

Emerson didn't say anything, just contemplated his request for a few moments. She wasn't sure it was a good idea to stay, but the pain and guilt etched in his eyes was enough to make her cave. Not only did she selfishly want to spend a few hours wrapped up in his arms again, the nagging feeling in her chest felt like a sign that staying one more night would give them the chance to work things out somewhere down the line. And she really wanted them to have that chance once she'd got her feet back underneath her because she couldn't picture her life without Niall in it.

"Okay. I'll stay."

When Niall woke the next morning, rain was pelting against the windows (fitting for the mood), one half of the bed was empty, and there was a hole in his chest where he was pretty sure his heart was meant to be. He stared at the empty spot next to him, mentally kicking himself in the ass for fucking up so badly, and hoping like hell he could fix it and have a second chance at a future with the girl he knew he was meant to marry.

[aliciapvlmeiro-archive]

WILMINGTON TASK 002. - QUESTIONAIRRE

ARE YOU A WILMINGTON NATIVE? IF NOT, WHERE DID YOU GROW UP? TELL US ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD.

With her long legs crossed at the ankles and her hands folded on her knee Alicia flashed a proud smile. “I grew up on my father’s family estate over in Forest Hills. You could say Wilmington is in my blood. Both of my parents grew up here, as did their own, and so on and so forth.” Her mother, Gabriella, was a Herrera by birth and her family had their hands in multi-billion dollar businesses. Her father, Rafael, currently served as North Carolina’s State Attorney and hailed from a family deep in politics. “My grandfather was the Governor for awhile, so he and my grandmother still live near Raleigh, and I have a few uncles and cousins scattered throughout the bureaucracy in Cuba where my family originates. The rest are stretched out between here and Florida. I’ve been to visit, but this has always been my home.” She’d never go as far as to call it a happy childhood, but to the public eye it certainly looked like a perfect one. “At the risk of sounding spoiled,” Ali tittered out a laugh, “growing up I had everything I could ask for.” Aside from two loving, supportive parents, of course. “Toys, ponies, pretty dresses— if I wanted it I got it. I’m not sure any kid would complain about that when they’re young.”

WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP LIKE WITH YOUR FAMILY? DO YOU HAVE SIBLINGS? A LARGE EXTENDED FAMILY?

“I’m an only child, and I think that’s why parents have always been… extremely invested in my future. Even now they’re never too far away.” How else could they micromanage every aspect of her life? “Our family is pretty large, though. Not so much in Wilmington these days, but in general.”

DESCRIBE YOUR HIGH SCHOOL EXPERIENCE.

“When I started high school I transitioned from Cape Fear Academy to New Hanover High.” Even now, all these years later, the memory of her parents’ faces when she demanded the switch made Ali snicker. They were appalled at the idea of their daughter ‘slumming it’ which, of course, thrilled her to no end. “I wanted a change of pace and scenery. I was bored mingling with the same kids I’d known since we were in diapers.” That younger version of herself believed things at public school would be different, that wealth would stop being the topic of discussion at every turn, but she was wrong. More than half of the students resented her for her lifestyle, and the rest only took interest in hopes that they could benefit from it. “It was--- challenging at first, but I took the changes in stride and made it work for me. In the end I guess you could say I was part of the quote unquote popular crowd. I was on the cheerleading squad, had plenty of friends, and every weekend there was more than one party to choose from. I kept my true inner circle small, but I’ve always thrived in the spotlight.”

WHAT WAS YOUR YEARBOOK SUPERLATIVE? WHY WAS THIS SO?

Alicia didn’t have to think very hard to remember. “I was voted female ‘Best Dressed’ in my class, as well as ‘Most Likely to Seek World Domination’. Honestly, I think they hit the nail on the head with those.” One look at her was all you needed to realize she took her appearance very seriously. Unless she was hidden away at home taking care of her son Ali always dressed as if the world was watching. In some ways, with her father’s public career, it kind of was. As far as the rest? “I don’t make it much of a secret that I’m ambitious and want the best life can offer. You could also say I’m pretty tenacious when there’s something I want. I don’t give up very easily. I won’t settle for having enough, I want everything.”

WHAT DID YOU DO AFTER HIGH SCHOOL? DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE? IF NOT, WHY?

“Immediately after graduation was a rough patch for me. There were some things going on that... changed what I anticipated for my future.” Leading up to the commencement ceremony she had wild dreams of ditching her parents, letting go of their fortune, and running off with her boyfriend. She’d paint to make money on the side, as it had always been her biggest passion, and no matter where they ended up they’d be happy because they were together. Unfortunately, those plans were destined to only remain a fantasy. When she got her diploma in hand and searched the crowd Jaxon ( @jaxnmartins ) was gone. The months between that day and the start of her freshman year weren’t pretty. 

For a second her head drifted back to the moment she realized he wasn’t waiting, forcing Alicia to swallow. That day changed everything. “In a way I guess I always knew where I’d end up. My father all but planned it before I was even born.” Like nearly everything else in her life. Banishing the waves of bitter nostalgia she curled into a smile, focusing the conversation on the reality of what came next. “I stayed in North Carolina and got my law degree through Duke University.” Pursuing her love of painting, even with so much natural talent for the arts, was unacceptable to her parents. That wasn’t a career--- it was a foolish hobby. She’d follow in her father’s footsteps or else everything they provided would be ripped from her fingertips. Without Jaxon it was a future she couldn’t bear to face. “It was a lot of long over-caffeinated nights studying, but Duke is only two and a half hours away so I was able to visit home all the time when I needed a bit of a break.”

WAS THERE AN EVENT IN YOUR LIFE THAT GREATLY IMPACTED WHO YOU ARE NOW AS A PERSON?

Several, in fact, starting with her switch of schools as a teenager. It was the first time she openly challenged her parents rule, as well as the first time she got a taste of what life could be like outside of their little bubble. The second was graduation when she realized escaping their world wouldn’t ever happen. Something in Alicia changed in those weeks leading up to college. She stopped fighting the inevitable and let herself mold to the image they pressed so hard for her to maintain. In a way she could argue that the next life altering event was seeing Jaxon again, because it inspired a years long secret relationship that ultimately revealed her father’s true colors, but she wasn’t about to admit any of that. It unveiled emotions that left her vulnerable--- weak. 

No, the only real thing she could mention that was both safe and expected was the birth of her son. “January 26th, 2018. It was the day of my car accident and the first time I got to look into Wyatt’s eyes. It was two months ahead of schedule but I’d never seen anything so perfect in my life. I wouldn’t wish having a child in the NICU on my worst enemy, but every sleepless night and worried thought was worth being able to hold him when he was strong enough to leave the incubator.” Smoothing her hands over her lap Ali paused, deciding what else to offer. “I--- never expected to enjoy motherhood, I’ve always been married to my career, but it changed me in ways I’m still discovering. I finally have something I care about more than myself.” Excluding Jaxon, Wyatt’s father, but there were days when even he hadn’t conquered her own self preservation instincts. With Wyatt it was different. “It also brought about the end of my engagement to Callum ( @calxmckenzie ),” not many men appreciated learning their fiancée was having an affair, “but while that was messy it was... good for me. Being on my own again forced me to take a step back and look at what I really want. What really matters. I’d grown too comfortable in routines, but now everything is different in my day to day. I’m starting fresh and that’s an incredible feeling.”

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? IF NOT, DO YOU THINK THAT IS POSSIBLE FOR YOU IN THE FUTURE?

This was perhaps the question she dreaded answering the most. Ali’s mouth went dry and her palms began to itch. How was she supposed to respond to that? The expected answer was yes. She’d been with Cal for two years, after all. But when she really thought about it she had to admit that while parts of her loved parts of him, she’d never been truly in love. It was harsh, but true. There were days when Alicia worried she wasn’t actually capable of falling in love. Her parents weren’t any example of what that might look like, and they groomed her to separate her emotions from her actions. Everything they taught her about forming relationships had been rife with selfish intentions and manipulative games. 

When she tried to picture what the genuine kind might feel like the only thing that came to mind was calloused fingers brushing back her hair in the early morning, or thumbing streaks of paint from her chin. The sound of a gruff voice singing soft and low to soothe away a child’s sleepy cries. She recalled the rapid hammer of her heart and the anxious flutter in her veins when the sound of heavy boots stepped through the door--- the all consuming terror that knocked the air from her lungs when she thought she might never hear it again. After a moment she realized what she was picturing was Jaxon. Even after fifteen years of a back and forth relationship neither had uttered the words ‘I love you’, but she knew when she thought of him he felt like home. 

Was she in love with him? Ali wasn’t confident her grasp on the subject was strong enough to say for sure, but she couldn’t picture a world without him in it. Weeks ago she’d been forced to and it made her physically sick. "I think,” she slowly began, wetting her lips to stall while she struggled for an answer that didn’t give much away, “that everybody hopes some day they’ll fall in love. And I think that if you do, if you even think you have, you should do whatever it takes to hold onto it.” It might be your only chance. She’d lost her opportunity with Jaxon but didn’t realize until it was already too late. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that there are things that don’t have a price. You can’t just go out and buy it at Neiman’s if you lose the original. Whatever you find to replace it might make you happy, but it’ll never be the same.”

WHEN WERE YOU BORN AND WHAT IS YOUR ASTROLOGICAL SIGN? DOES IT INFLUENCE YOUR LIFE IN ANY WAY?

“I was born on August 16th, 1989.” When it came to astrological signs she didn’t put much stock in that sort of thing, but reading what the stars predicted for her made Ali laugh. The only thing that dictated her life was herself--- her and her parents, at least. “According to all of the magazines I’m a Leo. I definitely don’t make choices based on what that means, but it’s interesting to see how I match up to the stereotype. Apparently they’re a passionate, dominant group who have expensive taste, love being admired, and hate being ignored. When it comes to myself I can’t say that’s wrong.”

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR? TELL US SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE ACTIVITIES TO DO DURING THIS TIME.

“I’d probably have to go with summer. It’s a busy time at work, but perfect weather for taking vacations and the seasonal menu they come out with at Tavern on the Green is phenomenal.” Alicia was about as indulgent as they came. She appreciated any time of year that brought with it leisurely down time and an excuse to buy a new wardrobe to fit the season. “My family has a boat over in the Taylor’s marina, so sometimes I’ll take that out for a day with friends or I’ll catch an early morning run over at Blue Clay City Park. This year I’m excited to take Wyatt there and to the beach. Naomi ( @naomi-owens ) and I just bought this to die for property an hour outside of town so I have a feeling we’ll be spending a lot of time there now that the interior decorator is finished making her final touches.”

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TEN YEARS AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE HOPED TO ACHIEVE?

“In ten years I’ll be a full partner at the firm.” That wasn’t a wish--- it was something Alicia stated as a fact. She was already a junior partner and had no reason to believe the rest wouldn’t fall into her hands within a decade. “I’ll be squeezing PTA meetings with Taylor ( @taylor-carson ) in between Pilates and court, and Wyatt and I will be nicely settled into our new home. He’ll be on the youth soccer team, so that will take up my weekends, but I’ll always make time to still see my friends. Weston ( @weston-taylor ) refuses to go away as it is,” she paused to smirk, “and Annabel ( @annabelxw ) and I already make a great team when it comes to the charity circuit. By then maybe Alana ( @al-martins ) will have chased after culinary school and opened her own restaurant, so we’ll make weekly visits there for dinner so he can see his aunt in her element, and Naomi will probably wrestle him into a piano lesson or two just for laughs.” What she didn’t mention was anything involving a husband or more children. Deep down Ali longed for that outcome, but she could only picture it with one person. Considering things were at an end with Jaxon she wasn’t sure she’d ever find herself in a white gown or cradling a baby girl staring back at her with soulful, brown eyes. It was better not to dwell on it. “There are a lot of things I know will happen, like progression with my job, but the only thing I hope to achieve is being the mother my son deserves.” The kind of mother she never had. “Wyatt’s my life. Everything in ten years will be about him. It already is.”

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/karmic-tools-weekly-forecast-eclipse-update-july-14-20-2019/

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast + Eclipse Update: July 14 – 20, 2019

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast + Eclipse Update: July 14 – 20, 2019

By Kelly M. Beard

The video version of this forecast, as read by Kelly, is available here.

The Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast covers the current planetary transits which affect people in different ways and to various degrees of intensity. Take notice when it is a Personal planet (Sun / Moon / Mercury / Venus / Mars) interacting with a Social (Jupiter/Saturn) or Collective planet (Uranus / Neptune/Pluto). And pay extremely close attention when it is a Social planet interacting with a Collective planet because that means something *big* is brewing that will move large groups of people along their evolutionary paths. Tuning in to the energy and rhythm of the planets can serve as a useful *guide* as you move along your Individual Path. It also helps to understand your place within the context of the larger Social & Collective Story. Below, you will find out how these energies tend to manifest, as well as guidance and direction. 

*NOTE*  There are some days when there are NO CONTACTS (besides the Moon), please note that there are no missing entries, we just list the actual Activations of each week + the day they happen.

7/14 ~ Sun (source & essential Self) ~oppose~ Pluto (purification & transformation):

This energy can (and often does) create very intense encounters with others, possibly revealing things about you which you may not have been aware of, misunderstood or have chosen to ignore thus far. This energy tends to provoke power struggles and/or challenges with authority figures where you may have to stand up for yourself. It can also may make you more aggressive, intense or over-bearing than usual, creating or attracting these kinds of situations. If there are any problems within a relationship (personal or professional), this energy will force things out into the open. It will be much easier on you, if you can open a dialogue with the express purpose of clearing the air and proceeding to a new level in your relationship, by choice. Any aspect of your life that you have been “just getting by” will now DEMAND attention; you won’t be able to do anything less than a complete overhaul or replacement (this can be ANY area of your life but the Capricorn House in particular during years 2008-2024 due to Pluto’s extended stay). Let’s put it this way, any time Pluto is involved, there is usually complete destruction of the current (x-y-z) to make room for the new and improved. This will be by the Universe’s definition, but you do get a vote, you can consciously choose too. Ultimately, this is a good, growth & development type of energy/activation, pushing you to the next level … ready or not, here you come so use the energies available to strengthen, fortify & prepare for your own personal transformation. Also consider your drives & direction about 6-months ago, and where you want to end up 6-months from now. This is an integration, that means a time when the depths of your Soul Self can commune & bond with your surface, personality or conscious Self. Like the conjunction (1.11.2019) about 6-months ago, this is about how you direct your personal power on your own behalf, and often, breakdowns precede breakthroughs.

7/16 ~ CAPRICORN Full Moon/Lunar Eclipse:

This is your Annual opportunity to release that which you no longer want to be part of your reality or your responsibility. Look to what you *Initiated* at Winter Solstice and how far you’ve progressed since then. What’s working? What’s not? What needs to be released? What needs to be strengthened structurally or otherwise? What foundation-work needs to be done to support you better going forward? The Full Moon is shining a light in a corner for first time in 6-months to a year (the Capricorn House of your chart) revealing any weaknesses or cracks in the foundation of your current focus. Whatever you *Seeded* with the Capricorn New Moon/Solar Eclipse (1.5.2019) 6-months ago, has run its course and now the Full Moon/Lunar Eclipse shows you what is solid and can be expanded on – as well as what is weak and must be fixed, replaced or released altogether. This is the time every year when you determine what is truly feeding, nourishing, supporting & protecting you ~ on ALL levels ~ mental, physical, emotional & spiritual. Here, we are reminded that often, internal shifts precede external shifts.

Obviously, this is a general overview for the Capricorn Full Moon, however, this year is special because of the combination of rare planetary alignments, along with the pattern-changing Eclipses. There are plenty of write-ups on this Summer’s Sky Pattern. I even posted two articles on my blog that I highly recommend if you are feeling these energies in a particularly intense way. I’d like to check in with how you are doing personally. How are you navigating these changes? Have you had to up-level your self-care? Have you noticed relationships ending (permanently) because they have served their purpose (and it’s all good)? Have you noticed that your personal needs have evolved so your vibration has naturally shifted? Have you noticed that you are attracting new & different kinds of people & situations?

I would like to remind you to take some time during July/Aug this year to assess & integrate your own personal growth, development & direction. Mercury Retro in Leo suggests we need to tune back into the Heart and to think with our feelings. Use this time to release ideas, people or situations which drain your lifeforce energy and/or dim your light. It’s going even deeper into Cancer by the end of this week (7/19), reminding you that you may have gotten off your natural rhythm and must re-set yourself this summer so that you can handle the upcoming Harvest. Use the eclipses for what they are good for: CHANGE. What are you ready, willing & able to change about how your live both your private & public lives? How can you renew your dedication to a routine that nourishes, inspires & energizes you? How can you put your ideas & skills to good use in the world? Where are your gifts & talents needed, valued & honored? What nourishes your body, awakens your mind and feeds your soul? Check in with yourself this summer – your SoulSelf – much of these very fundamental, basic things in our lives have changed and so have we! This is new territory we are entering. Stay alert, creative & optimistic!

7/17 ~ Venus (relationships & resources) ~oppose~ Saturn (physical limits & reality):

Where Sun opposite Saturn has the focus squarely on you, the individual, Venus opposite Saturn often illuminates the relationships that you’ve magnetized (or repelled) in your life. It is here that I also like to remind folks how valuable MidPoints can be as they give you a direct look back at your starting point, which offers unbelievable clarity about what you may be dealing with in the present moment. There is a push-pull between your true values and the current reality of your relationships and/or your resources. You may find yourself questioning what (and who) is or is no longer of value or important to you. Or you may find yourself facing some hard and unavoidable personal truths. Do not feel sorry for yourself and do not take it out on others. It is time to take responsibility for making new choices. Looking back will only trip you up. Challenges may center around commitments you’ve made out of obligation and/or a sense of duty, rather than because you actually wanted to contribute. You can use this energy & activation to align your reality with the values of your heart. Don’t allow the anxiety associated with change to keep you from making some very important decisions at this time. If you give in to your fears, you could get caught up in martyrdom or victim consciousness. Deciding what you want, committing to the work it will take to manifest your vision and getting to work – that’s what Saturn will reward with tangible & long-lasting results. You will never regret investing in your Self this way.

7/18 ~ Venus (values & priorities) ~trine~ Neptune (faith & spirituality):

This is a very supportive energy for dreaming your world into being! Allow your imagination some latitude to wander and see where it leads. Play with “what if” scenarios. For example, “what if” all your material needs & desires were taken care of, what would you dedicate your time, energy & resources to? You may feel very empathic and connected to others and what they are going through at this time, so maintain adequate boundaries. Neptune can activate a very spiritual encounter with another human being (friend, family or lover) but only time will tell if it is Neptune playing tricks on you or if it is truly a spiritual connection.

******

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[eyesaremosaics]

Meeting your own needs, attunement and the cage of the patriarchy.

Longing to truly deeply connect on every level. I hunger for something more than sex, security, companionship. I want to truly see into someone, feel into them, attune to their experience so completely… And have them in turn do the same to me. That is truly being connected. It is hard to be on the same frequency, the same radio station. You have to make the choice to tune into someone, and out of our own egoic needs.

When our needs are not being met, we tend to become grasping. Selfish. Self preservation, because survival mode triggers the belief of: there is not enough to go around. If we start meeting our own needs, we will stop looking for other people to fill the gaps in our self concept.

Conversations with my mother and grandmother… I realize that I have much work to do still on myself. No one can giving meaning to my life but me, and our beliefs become our reality. So if you believe no one and nothing is coming, that will be true. If you believe there is no point and that life is drab and useless, that will become true as well. “We must all be responsible for our own lives.”(a line from the play I am currently in).

This abandonment I have been feeling… I haven’t been abandoned by those I love. I have abandoned myself. I put myself so low, gotten so used to crumbs, and dirt that I believed no good will come to me. I was doing so well a month ago, and I realized just how vulnerable I am to absorbing other people’s energy. I gave myself completely to an ex, trying to heal him and help him to feel loved and validated. Gave myself totally, body and soul. He is unable to do that, I can’t expect him to be able to.

Not everyone is capable of the depth I am able to go. That was something I had to realize. People do not run from others because they are bad or wrong, they run because they mirror behaviors one represses or denies in themselves. Even if a person is displaying their negative traits, the rejection from others is often an unexpressed aspect in themselves.

Asking a person who has stuffed their emotions their entire life (and was taught to just shut up and deal with it by their family) to be entirely present and vulnerable with you… Is like… Asking somebody how they enjoyed raising elephants. They’ve never done it, they know nothing about it, they can’t conceptualize or have context for how to go about it.

Not to say people cannot learn over time, but it will certainly be a challenge. We can’t expect more out of people than they are capable of giving. Let that sink In for a minute.

As empaths (I know most of you reading this are), we are looking for the exchange of that which we give. When a person gives altruistically, it is purely for the pleasure of helping someone else. This is because their life is so full, that they have excess available, and share it freely. The need for reciprocation comes from a place of lack. This lacking is an unmet need, masked with altruism. It is under a guise, a veil of wanting to help for the sake of it, when really it is trying to escape oneself through manipulating validation out of others.

I see so clearly today, that meeting your own needs is essential to emotional well being. Making someone else responsible for any aspect of your life, is not taking ownership, and thusly giving over to victimhood. If you don’t like something, you have the choice to remove yourself from the situation. If you want to do something, you have the choice to do it.

Discovering what it is you want is so incredibly crucial. Most people have no clue what they really want… And thusly! Never get it. The more clarity you have within the universe, the more specifically you will be rewarded.

It’s hard to face our shadows. It’s scary, and uncomfortable. It’s painful, but it is absolutely essential to facilitate growth. You have to face what it is that stands in your way. When you are hurting, you are healing. It has to hurt, if it’s to heal.

Finding approval for our faults, is the most important way to counteract shame. I used this example in the past: Belief: I am too emotional/I am crazy Try instead telling yourself: I am emotionally intuitive, I am able to experience things freely and deeply. This gives me greater empathy, and the ability to care for others on a more meaningful level.

In the last few months, I received the message from a few people: that I am self absorbed, and that I need to change. Looking at myself honestly, I saw, yes I talk about myself often, but I talk about my psychology and am trying to figure out how to improve myself. I do not go on and on about my looks, or how great I think I am. It is not vanity, it is self awareness. It’s introspection. Through meeting myself as deeply as I do, trying to understand… I am able to see and meet other people just as deeply.

These people who told me I was “self obsessed”, are not in touch with their inner life AT ALL. They avoid who they are and how they feel like their life depends on it. They have to, because it is too scary for them. Their actions read: “I can’t go there. I can’t breathe.”

Most people are too afraid to confront their true selves. My grandmother once asked my Scorpio papa to look deep inside himself and figure out what made him so angry. He said: “I went in there once, and I am never going back.”

Prime example. I think men especially struggle with meeting themselves truly and honestly. They are taught to be other than who they really are. It is so deeply engrained into their programming as children, that feelings are weak. That they have to meet an unrealistic social construct, an inhuman standard of behavior, and if they don’t do it they are not a man.

This whole concept of “not being a man”, is really about uselessness. Almost as though one does not exist. Men, more than women I think… Struggle with identity and what it means to really exist. Women have purpose, they invest in one another. They invest in children, or relationships in general. Men are often defined by what they do, and what they have to show for it, not by their intimate psychological connections with others.

This is why some men feel better with women. Because there isn’t this reigning patriarchal expectation or barrier between them. Yet… There still is. The programming has left them so twisted up inside emotionally, that even letting the barrier down as much as they possibly can, is still not to the same level that most women can go to. Now, of course there are exceptions to both sides, some men were raised in a more emotionally expressive environment, and some women struggle to express emotion, but for the sake of this post, I will focus on the typical dynamic imposed by the patriarchy.

I strongly believe, and maintain, that this “boys don’t cry” attitude is wrong. I will not raise my boys to deny their feelings. I will not tell them to suck it up and deal with it, to hide, to stuff. With the children I nanny for (all boys), I let them experience their emotions. I do not use threats, intimidation, devaluation, comparison or any other fear based tactic to modify their behavior.

Empathy is taught, you have to teach children what it means to feel into someone else. If you don’t, the child will stagnate in their emotional growth. They will be stuck at the emotional age in which you began shaming them for their feelings. This will cause problems for them in relationships as they get older. Without being taught to have empathy for others, instead they will judge. Judgement is the largest impediment to love and connection. They will write things of as right or wrong, black or white, and this dichotomy is the root of all the ugliness that exists in this world. The polarization.

All human beings experience emotion, to lesser or varying degrees, but we all do none the less. What fascinates me as much as it makes me sad… Is asking people who fear intimacy: “what would be so bad? What is it that is so terrifying about connecting to another person? What is so terrible that you cannot bear it? ”

The fear of loss? Yet look at how much there is to gain. You would not have the depth of the richness to your character if you had not gone there. Judging others, is limiting yourself and your world. Judging is s self protective mechanism, that keeps your world small. Understanding, is the true route to healing. It is hard to hate what you understand. Much easier to let go when you do not personalize another’s actions.

This goes for myself as well. I took the silence for my being unlovable. I took the aversion and the perceived abandonment being something wrong with me. It was just that these people could not meet me as deeply as I met myself. They did not raise that elephant.