#aha words are mine to comprehend once more

[most-definitively-a-human]

I find it very funny that I enjoy reading Corpse Knight Gunther yet stopped reading a romance because the couple was slightly mean to each other and their friends.

Maybe it's all about my expectations? Promise a sweet kind relationship and give subtle cruelty that's never addressed and I am out. Promise grimdark and have the character be just slightly less of a relentless asshole twenty chapters in? Hell yeah I am cheering for them.

Brains are weird man.

[bananasquash]

Asano Gakushuu x Toned-DownFan!reader

LISTEN- I don't know the GN term for Fangirl/Fanboy😭 I started with FanPerson at first

⚠️WARNING: Fan!reader (nothing too heavy though), Slight Angst???

Masterlist

As a member of 3E, you felt disgraced to have a crush on Asano Gakushuu, the biggest asshole of all assholes. But all you could do was recount the times you weren't in E-Class, when you had cared for Gakushuu in the best ways possible, as in making sure he actually ate (even if it was food from other fangirls), making sure he rested, reminding him to drink water, making sure he did things that wasn't school related (or at least was fun enough), and many other times.

Even though all of E knew of your feelings, none of them discouraged it, besides Terasaka but he didn't say much. All Karma did was tease you and give you a hard time. Although none of them couldn't comprehend why you had come to love that piece of crap, they did support your love and devotion for the man.

You were the more laid-back one upon his fans, fawning over him like all the others, yet keeping it to yourself or in the safety of your friends ears. And unlike the other fans, you made sure he cared for himself and his well-being.

Though now that you're a member of the End Class, it's been harder to see him. Not only where the class recides, but Principal Asano would never allow, nor would Gakushuu be pleased to be seen being all 'buddy buddy' with one who holds as low of a status as yours.

Nakamura, the mischievous blonde-eyed beauty in all her glory, poked at your cheek all the while smirking teasingly. "Ohhh [Y/n]~" She sang. "You're doing it again! You have that day dreamy look in your eyes, you didn't even see Koro-Sensei blast away to Russia for the bomb Pirohi and Pirozhki!!! You were sighing like a maiden in the midst of falling for her prince charming~ How romantic hm? Let's see how you do on the pop quiz, based on this very lesson, after lunch!" She snickered, throwing in some proper words while she was at it.

"Wait what?! Listen, Nakamura, did you know that you have the best fashion?!" You nervously chuckled, ignoring the cooing and paying more attention to the quiz part.

She giggled. "I wear uniforms 98% of the time you see me."

"Listen, I just need a little bit of notes!!! Just the important parts???"

She sighed in mock annoyance. "Fine fine~ Here ya go! I'm going to the treehouse for lunch, make sure you put it back on my desk, Kay?" Her mouth upturned into her usual mischief filled smile. She barely gave any time to respond before she lept away, running off into the forest.

You shook your head in a loving manner, putting your full attention on the work in front of you.

After at least 10 minutes out of your 30 minute lunch time, you had finished the papers by gathering the most important parts of the notes, thinking carefully about what is being done.

"Aha! Look at you all focusing for once~" A voice spoke up. It was rather familiar, but not the kind of familiar you wanted to hear in this moment. "For once the king of hell isn't what's on your mind~ Shocker huh?" He teased.

You groaned. "I almost got this last bit down! You seriously had to come and bother me right this moment Akabane?" You scoffed.

"Now now~ As they say, kitties got claws huh? Too bad dogs will always bite back."

"In your dreams. Now give me one moment to 'get this cat in the bag' and you can tell me just what you came here for, ok? Thanks." And with that you blocked out his nonsensical chatter and contemplated what to do next. As promised, not a moment late you held your promise and looked up. "T' what do I owe the pleasure good sir?" You asked, a bit of sass held only for his attitude.

He chuckled. "Just the usual, Nagisa in a maid outfit, Koro-Sensei whipping by for a quick pic before leaving, yours truly successful with yet another prank, and oh of course! The Asano Gakushuu eating out of a dear friend of mines lunch!"

"Uhm... Yeah he kinda has a lot of fans...? Sooo why should I care who's bento he eats from?"

He chuckled finger guns getting into position. "That, my dearest [Y/n], is because that Bento he ate from was none other than yours! Y'know? In fact, that's the only one I've seen him eat from. The others are either discarded or given to his lowly lackeys. But shhh~ you didn't hear the from me~" He smirked, putting a finger to his lip while blinking.

You blushed heavily, smiling brightly. "You're the best Karma! Even though you're annoying, I appreciate you telling me!"

His face dropped a tiny bit when he glanced to the right of you two and out the window, though he immediately put it back up and focused on directing your gaze from you. "Yeah, anything for a hopelessly in love classmate of mine. Now I've gotta head out. See ya short stack!" He snickered, saluting with two fingers before jumping out the window.

"Huh?"

??? POV

(will be named during. it's obvious tho)

Father's not gonna be happy once word goes around... Hell I'd be in some sort of confinement with little to do. This, to me, is much more important than getting my freedom taken away for a week.

I walked up the mountain, length and height not bothering me in the least. Well, as long as I get to see them. It was nice being cared for and loved for once. I thought it'd be over once Father removed them from A to E in one quick motion. But, I still got the Bentos everyday, among all the others. And every one held a different note, making a sound and forcing me to eat, take a break, or drink water.

Asano's Pov,

But using he/him

Oh how they understood him so well. Just when he grabs a book, ping! The alarm. He couldn't bring himself to deny.

He held flowers, the favorite you once told him it was while teaching him about flowers when he insisted on not wanting a break from learning.

Keeping his furrowed look (even though he's very much dying inside), he made his first step on the flat ground. A few E-Class member had seen him but payed no mind due to the fact he held flowers.

As he approached, he saw through the window, the one he seeked. He scoffed under his breath, but couldn't fight a dash of light pink that appeared.

Just as he was about to make himself known, after hiding the flowers, he witnessed deep pink cheeks painted across your soft cheeks. And he deduced that Akabane was the one to cause that action. He felt pain shoot through his heart, shattering it. Despite not having much of a visual reaction, he was heavily broken inside.

So, without much of a scene, he turned on his heel and dropped the flowers, descending the mountains.

He got a minute down before Karma caught up, breathing out. "Asano~ Heya~" He winked. "Come here to mess with us or to... Y'know... Propose?" He asked, bringing out the flowers he dropped near bushes.

"Shut up Akabane. It was just a mistake. I thought Father was up here, yet it seems otherwise." He huffed, glaring with more malice than the usual.

"Awww someone jealous? Pfft- and of yourself too! Who knew the 'top student' was actually a dumbass who likes to make assumptions huh?" He teased, laughing.

"How about you not rub it in my face... Listen Akabane. I have studying to get to. So if you'd move out of my way, I'd be very pleased." He grumbled through gritted teeth.

He scoffed. "You're pissing me off now too. Did you know our precious [Y/n] doesn't shut up about their love for you? Asano Gakushuu? It's disgusting really. Who could ever love someone with that attitude, hah? They were blushing because I shared with them info I found you doing. Like I don't... Putting your books down for once? Drag your feelings out and I'll snatch her up for real." He glared, walking away.

Asano was left with his thoughts, effectively in a daze. He had to get to you, and with this newfound info, he'll have to do it now.

I'll let your imagination run wild~ I do not intend for a second part. No worries, if you want my thoughts on the ending, here:

He sat in the class, both of you saying nothing, yet gazing into each other's eyes. He took your hands in his, never breaking contact. "I'll cut to the chase. Date me. P-word."

You flushed at first, but that disappeared when he said 'P-word'. "W-What?" You asked, trying not to break into a laugh.

He scoffed. "If you don't feel the same just say it."

"NO NO! I'm sorry! I was just- P word. Yes yes, I accept... But P-word??" You snickered.

He flustered, oh how the tables have turned. "Yes. I do not wish to say please in a meaningful manner, therefore P-word is the correct choice." He explained, clearing his throat.

"Ok I'll let you off... For now..." You snickered.

"Y'know what I just remembered I need to finish my dad." He huffed, standing up.

"But Asano."

"Hm?"

"I like you."

"..." He proceeded walking until by the door. "I... Like you too." And with that he immediately walked out, ignoring Karma's teasing and irritating remarks that were accompanied by Nakamura.

THERE!!!🥰

[clone-wars-imagine-2]

Bad Batch Preference: How they react when you make a doll for them that looks like them

A/N: This idea comes from a friend on discord, I hope you enjoy this.

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

Sergeant Hunter: To begin with, you were hella bored and flying through hyperspace for 10 hours straight was making you insane. Meditation could only pass that much time, so you decided to start a little project for the remaining time until you would reach Coruscant again. Soon enough you gathered all materials and started to make a little doll. You didn’t have any particular thing in mind you wanted the doll to look like but having Hunter sit right across from you with his datapad in hand was a convenient thing. It only took you 2 ½ hours until the doll was finished, now you only had to show Hunter. “Hunter! I need to show you something really important!” You said dragging out the really, a grin plastered on your face. His response was a simple ‘aha’ but he glanced up from his reports to look at you for a moment. He seemed tired which made your heart ache, he is always overworking himself. You took the doll from behind your back and held it out to him. Hunter looked surprised at the sight of the doll and laid his datapad down, reaching forward to grab the little fabric version of him. He could see all the details you did, you even put a little bandana on the doll. The Sergeant was speechless to say the least. “Do you like it? I made it for you.” You made it for him… “Of course I do. I love it! Thank you, kar’ta.” “You're welcome, Love.”

Crosshair: Building something was one of your hobbies you had since you were a kid, it was always something you could do on your own, inside or even outside. You build things out of wood, metal, fabrics, flowers and basically everything you could find. So whenever the boys were out of the ship, getting supplies or doing assignments the thought would be too dangerous for you to tag along on they left you to look after the havoc marauder. This was one of those occasions. You’ve been sitting in the pilot seat for the past few hours making something for Crosshair. You weren’t quite sure if he would like it or not but if the latter would happen you’d just keep the little doll of him for yourself. Holding the doll up you looked it once over before deciding you were finished. It looked exactly like Crosshair, you even went as far as to carefully draw on his tattoo. You smiled and decided to put it away until he came back. It didn’t take long for your boys to come back and leave the planet as fast as possible. When everything calmed down you went to Crosshair, telling him you made something for him. He gave you a sceptical look but followed you to your quarters you had on the ship. Turning around you presented him with the doll.  “You made a doll of myself? For me?” You nod your head and beamed up at him with one of your smiles. “It looks hideous.” You saw that coming. “But it’s you!” “I know.” “You want me to take it back?”  “No it’s mine.”

Tech: Getting to spend time with Tech was hard after the Bad Batch stopped protecting you and your father after they catched the people who were after you. Now it wasn’t certain when and for how long you would see him again and it killed the both of you. The last time he came to visit he gifted you a necklace with a small piece of his armor hanging off it. He said it was so something from him was always with you and protected you. It was by far your most prized possession and you never put it off since you got it. So you decided to make something for him. You were amazing when it came to the knowledge of advanced technologies and new inventions but building something on your own wasn’t something you could say you were good at. So the only plausible thing to do was ask your mother for help which she gladly lended. Together you two made a little doll, it was only a few inches in size but it looked so much like Tech it made your heart ache for him even more. It even had a small replica of his goggles on. Now you only had to wait for him to arrive home. It was another two months before you got the message from Tech that they would be heading back to get some downtime. You were filled with exaltation and couldn’t wait until he was back, but you were also nervous about what he would think of the doll. You would find out soon enough. It wasn’t until a few hours of him being back and the two of you cuddling in bed that you showed him his little present. Tech was more than just surprised and you could swear you saw him stop breathing for a few seconds. A smile spread across his face and he gave you a kiss on the forehead, pulling you closer and nuzzling his face into your hair. “I love it, mesh’la. I will always keep it with me.” You blushed at the little word of endearment and hid your face in his chest. “Glad you like it, handsome.” Guess who is blushing now. 

Wrecker: You were set at home on one of the few days you could take off, waiting for Wrecker to arrive after one of their missions. He had commed you earlier in the day, letting you know he would be there today and that he got some more stuff for you. The clones didn’t earn a lot of money so Wrecker never really bought much but he brought some stuff back for you that he found on his journeys. Be it intriguing  looking stones, beautiful flowers he pressed under some weights to preserve them or shells he found on shores. Seeing all the little things lying on their own little shelf in the living room you took the opportunity of being alone for a little while longer and started making something you knew Wrecker would like. Wrecker owned a tooka doll he so fondly called Lula that you decided it could use a little friend and what better friend would there be than a smaller version of your boyfriend himself!  It took you longer than you would like to admit until you got the hang of stitching the doll together. You were a mechanic, an inventor, not a sewer! But thankfully Wrecker wouldn’t arrive until late in the night as he told you in a message. Great, more time to figure out how to not poke you in the fingers 50 times in a row. You finished the doll around 11pm, mere ten minutes before he arrived. When Wrecker arrived he crushed you in one of his tight hugs which you endured with a smile, by now you were used to his strength. He immediately started rambling about the mission and taking the stuff out he collected for you during his time away when you stopped him. “Before you continue darling, I want to show you something I made for you. I-” “You made something for me?! When?!” You let out a laugh and smiled up at him. “Today, I had some time and thought you might appreciate it.”  Wrecker immediately begged to see it and how could you keep him waiting? You showed him the doll of himself, it was by all means the first thing you ever made in that regard but it didn’t look too bad, and it resembled him which you wanted! His eyes lit up the second they met the doll and he took it out of your hands. “This is amazing! And it looks like me! I will put myself right next to Lula so she isn’t alone!” A laugh bubbled out of your chest and you looked fondly at him. “That was my intention. Glad we are both on the same page.” You got pulled in another bone crushing hug and you savoured every second of it.

Echo: It has been over a year in which you thought that Echo was dead. After the Citadel mission Fives and Rex came to you, bearing bad news. The moment you saw them you knew and cried your eyes out for weeks. You couldn’t believe he was just gone like that, taken from you from moment to the other. Both Rex and Fives tried to help you and they succeeded in some ways until Fives passed away.  You had thrown yourself in your work for the senate, doing everything not to think about how your heart ached for the love of your life and your best friend who were gone. When your body finally broke down, telling you to rest and to process you did. In memory of the both of them you made two little dolls, the one of Fives you put right next to his gravestone. You did everything to make sure he got buried and his body wasn’t used for scientific research by the Kaminoans.  The doll of Echo you always kept close to you. There was no body you could bury or mourn so this was the only alternativ you got, and it helped, it really did. And then Rex commed you, telling you Echo was alive right before one of your most important senate meetings. It was another few days from when they brought Echo back to when you were allowed to see him and your heart stopped when you saw him. What have they done to him? Tears filled your eyes and you threw yourself at him, not letting him go as you thought he might disappear again. Echo was very hesitant at first, fearing he could hurt you with his prosthetics, yet he still forced those thoughts from his mind and enveloped you in his arms.  You talked for the maker knows how long, trying to comprehend what the other went through while giving as much comfort as possible. Every time Echo would flinch at your contact, even if it was tiny, your heart felt like it got stabbed a thousand times. When he carefully reached for your hand and told you he was leaving with the Bad Batch you tried to protest but he shut it down, telling you he had to do it and you only nod. “I promise you that I will come back, I always do, don’t I?” Echo had a smaller version of his usual sly smile on his face and for the first time in a long while you felt your heart melt again. You smiled softly at him, leaning closer to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I know you do, but before you go I want to give you something.” , you mumbled against the skin of his cheek, taking out the small doll you made months ago. Carefully you handed it to him and watched his face for his reaction. You could see tears gather in the corner of his eyes and you pulled him closer. “I made it a while after you… Well…” Echo shushed you and looked up into your face, smiling. “I will keep this close to me so whenever I see it I will think about you, cyar’ika.” 

[askthedustbowl]

you’re it

eurydice leads orpheus on an adventure in the snow after leaving one of hadestown corp’s holiday parties.

—————

“you know i’ll follow you wherever you go,” orpheus grinned. “show the way.”

eurydice giggled, a telltale sign that she was definitely buzzed. “c’mere.” she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the building.

the cold air hit them at the same time, and orpheus felt eurydice’s grip on his hand tighten. she danced them down the sidewalk in her long, low-cut dress. orpheus had it a little easier. he adjusted his sports coat to accommodate for the temperature.

“don’t you want to go back and get your jacket, love?” he asked. “it’ll only take a minute.”

eurydice laughed and steam swirled out of her mouth. “no,” she giggled. “let’s go, right now. don’t look back, baby.”

orpheus couldn’t help but chuckle. eurydice looked magnificent, and he savored the view. the office holiday party had been fun, but eventually eurydice got bored, and orpheus wasn’t going to say no to getting out of mister hades’s line of sight.

eurydice danced down the street, throwing her free arm up in the air like she could hear music that nobody else heard. adoration surged through orpheus’s heart. it couldn’t have been more than midnight, but he couldn’t see anyone else on the streets. all the same—he had eurydice to himself.

a goddess like eurydice, she never went anywhere without people staring. she didn’t notice, but orpheus did. he looked at her the same way. in some eyes, it was jealousy—they wanted her. in some eyes, it was disbelief—they couldn’t comprehend that a being such as eurydice could exist. orpheus belonged in the latter group. despite waking up with her next to him for the last several months, he still couldn’t believe his luck. the stars had aligned perfectly to grant him this beautiful woman, and he felt like he’d have to pay them back for the rest of his life.

slushy snow lined the edges of the sidewalk, and eurydice was looking down to make sure the heels erato had lent her didn’t touch the ice. even though he couldn’t see her, orpheus knew what her expression was. her brow was furrowed and she chewed her bottom lip. it was the expression that orpheus always caught her wearing when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“where are we going, ‘rydice?” he asked after a few minutes of content silence. eurydice slowed down and her head whipped to her right. the plaque at the entrance to the city park gleamed in the moonlight.

“here!” she laughed, and pulled orpheus through the gateway.

once they were further into the park, she let his hand go and turned around to look at him. it may have been freezing, but orpheus melted. her eyes glittered with amusement.

“you’re sure you’re not cold?” orpheus let his hands fall to her waist, but she jumped back with a wink.

“you gotta earn it tonight, baby.” she narrowed her eyes. “catch me.”

orpheus laughed. “you’re tipsy.” he said.

“and you’re no fun.”

“oh i’m no fun?”

“uh-huh.” her giggle sounded like starlight. “catch me, orpheus.”

orpheus sighed. he took his hands back and raised them palm-up. “okay. should i give you a running start?”

eurydice nodded, her smile broadening. “uh-huh.”

orpheus closed his eyes. “one—“ before he could even get to two, eurydice scampered off. he chuckled and started his search.

as he looked between the trees and on the benches, it occurred to him that he would have never done this a year ago. eurydice had opened his eyes—brought to light everything that he had been missing from his life. she brought freedom wherever she went. she brought summer sunshine, winter wind. orpheus learned to enjoy her spontaneity if for nothing but the fact that he got to see her smile after every escapade.

“eurydice!” he called. something caught his eye on the ground. it glittered. he picked it up.

it was the flower hairpin that persephone had given her earlier (“it goes with your dress way better than mine,” she had said through sips of whatever concoction she held in her hand).

she couldn’t be far.

orpheus stepped to the side, letting the hairpin lead him like a compass. “‘rydice?”

a giggle could be heard from behind the largest tree.

“aha.” orpheus whispered. he followed the sound of her laughter and found her leaning against the bark of a tall pine.

“that was shorter than i expected!” she exclaimed. “i was ready to wait for you. i thought it’d take hours...” eurydice trailed off with a smile. “i love you.” she murmured.

orpheus exhaled, and clouds floated from his mouth and nose. “you must be cold.” he shrugged off his sports coat and draped around her shoulders. “there we go.”

eurydice found his hands and put them on her waist. “now you can have me.” she whispered. she swayed towards him, and he gripped her waist tight.

“hey, stay with me.” orpheus kissed her nose. “can you make it ‘til we get home, love?”

“i love you.” eurydice placed her hands on either side of his face. “i’m drunk but i definitely love you.” her words were chased by the slightest slur—no doubt a byproduct of hanging around persephone all night. “i love you like i’ve never loved anyone, orpheus. you’re it.”

“i’m it?” orpheus could do nothing but gaze at eurydice. he felt snow start to dust his hair but didn’t move.

“yeah.” eurydice smiled. “you’re the one, baby.”

as the snow fell around them, orpheus felt sunshine in eurydice’s fingertips against his cheeks.

[shall-we-imagine]

A Liz in wonderland. (Part 1)

Yes, I'm shamelessly proud of that title.

Genre: Light hearted messing around but that's not a genre what even is a genre anymore I-

Summary: Imagine falling into an alternate universe where everything you never believed in is actually real- and vice versa. Or an alice in wonderland inspired story lol.

(First person point of view)

I tried. I really did, but the more he talked the harder it was to keep my eyelids from reuniting and sending me off to a deep sleep.

"Excuse me? May I use the bathroom?" I make sure not to use "can", considering I was in no mood to discuss the differences between may and can. We get it: you speak perfect English; now let us be.

Mr. Stuck up or whatever his name is sighs before mumbling a sure and turning back to explaining his love for Charles Dickens's A tale of two cities.

I take my sweet, sweet time, fully enjoying the silence of the normally bustling hallways. Plus, of course, the lack of lectures about Charles Dickens. Unsurprisingly, the bathroom too is completely empty: convenient for me, a person that's only here to scroll through her phone for a bit and doesn't want to be stared at cuz she's as awkward as could be.

Quiet murmurs distract me from my screen in hand; looking up, however, I find no one else in the bathroom. A stranger thing is how distant the voice felt, plus the fact that it came from a specifically strange direction...

"Huh? Was that always there?" I mumble to myself. The mirror that I'd previously assumed to be squeaky clean was decorated with about a billion tiny hearts and a giant one in the middle with the words GO OUT WITH ME? spelled in a neat handwriting inside. There's no way I missed this lipstick confession on the mirror, right?

More murmurs follow, but I still can't figure out what's being said, and at this point, I'm ready to just bolt out in fear rather than understand. However, as my eyes dart around in panic, I catch sight of some hearts being erased and redrawn.

"Is this a prank?" I hesitantly ask in a shaky voice, reaching to touch the thick, red lines.

A scream violently rips through my throat the second my fingertips come in contact with the glass. No, I wish it had made contact with the mirror. That's the thing, though: it didn't. My fingers slipped right through it.

No, it couldn't have. I imagined it; I must've.

With trembling hands, I once again reach for the mirror. I can't explain it. I don't know why it's happening, but I'm wrist deep into the supposedly solid barrier.

As I was trying to make sense of it, something latched onto my hand, aggressively pulling me towards my reflection. I scream and pull away as hard as I can; I grip the granite edge with my left hand, silently cursing myself for eliminating my dominant hand. Next time I wanna throw a hand into the unknown, I'll make sure to remember I do so with my left hand instead.

You'd think at this point someone would just burst in and save the day, right? Yeah, somehow I was left to fend for myself.

My hand is already getting weaker (curse you, (Y/N), for not exercising enough!), and with a sudden surge of power, I find myself thrust towards whatever was pulling me. I half-hoped I'd just slam into the mirror then stand back up normally, and everything would be okay, but instead I open my eyes to find myself on top of some brunette.

"Uh, hi." She laughs nervously.

"Who are you?!" I straighten my elbows but remain on top of her, mainly to corner her but also because I could barely find any power in me to even move an inch.

She slides herself backwards a few centimeters, just to prop herself up on her elbows. "Who are you? You're the one who reached out my mirror! ...Well, maybe not my mirror, but you get the point." She pauses for a moment then brings her face closer to mine, observing me intently and curiously. "What are you anyway? At first, I thought you were a ghost, but you're very...solid and...opaque...hmm.." She places her hand beneath my jaw, fingers pressing tightly towards the end of my cheeks. Unable to withstand the pressure, I open my mouth to relieve the pain.

"I don't get it." She frowns and releases me.

I rub my face in agony, "Don't get what?" By now, I'd sat up straight, maybe subconsciously I'm scared of the unexpectedly strong weirdo and needed to create more distance between us, who knows?

"You're not a demon either...these are the only creatures that can transport through mirro-" Her eyes widen. She pushes me away and quickly takes a fighting stance, cat ears shooting open from the top of her head. "Are you a witch?"

"Are you insane?!" I stand up, adjusting my clothes.

"I won't fall for this, witch! I'm not gonna be anyone's pet!" Thick claws spring out of her fingers, replacing her previously less intimidating painted nails.

Staring into her glowing green eyes in fear, I sputter out the first coherent thought that forms in the midst of my panicking mind, "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"Hmm?" Her glowing eyes take their earlier human-like form. She begins sniffing around, closing the distance between us. "Doesn't smell very witch-y...oh, silly me, I jumped to conclusions! Sorry about that!" She giggles.

I heave a sigh of relief, "Ha ha, yeah, silly you..."

Her cat ears suddenly perk up, as if picking up something interesting from a distance. Judging by her expression, I'm right. "What's-"

"You have to leave; you'll ruin my confession!" She tries to push me back into the mirror, but when that fails, she kicks me out the bathroom. What? Does she own the bathroom or something?! Who confesses in a bathroom anyway?!

The door slams shut behind me. I sigh. Probably useless to fight her anyway; she's completely bonkers. Perhaps I should come back later and try to understand whatever the fuck happened with that mirror...

"You seen Amelia?" A tall blonde blocks my way, (possibly) a fox tail swinging calmly behind her. "Cat hybrid. 'Bout this tall.." She holds her palm, facing downwards, near her chest.

"Uh, yeah, I think she's inside." I point to the bathroom door, stepping aside to make way for the girl, who I assume is the one Amelia is waiting for. Poor girl is getting a bathroom confession.

"Thanks!" She smiles and walks inside the bathroom.

Well, where am I supposed to go until their little love scene is over? I sigh, trudging away from the bathroom door- unsure where I'm headed to.

"Hey, newbie!" A voice calls, directing my attention to a green-haired male with a dangling earring in one ear.

I tilt my head in confusion. "How do you know about me?"

"Saw it in my crystal ball earlier." He shrugs.

"Ha ha. Very funny." I roll my eyes. "What do you want anyway?"

"Very rude. Tsk tsk. Well, I was going to help you get back into that mirror you came out of, but I guess this isn't what you want, so I'll be off then." He smirks and begins walking away, hands casually shoved in his pockets.

"What?! How do you know about that?!" He doesn't budge. "Hey! Wait!" I call and rush after him, but the second I quicken my pace, he takes off running. "What's wrong with you?! Are you insane?! Stop!" Yelling isn't the solution I guess, but at least I'm taking out my irritation on something, right?

He reaches an intersection, and I pay close attention to make sure I know which direction he takes. It doesn't help at all, however, when he takes all three directions.

I saw him with my own two eyes split into three identical forms and take off running in each of the three directions.

Unable to comprehend the scene, I subconsciously stop in my tracks, head jerking to each side to make sure I actually saw what I saw. "What the fuck?" I breathe out.

"Luca?" A voice questions from behind me.

I turn around to face a blue haired boy with an eye patch. "Who?"

"The green haired guy. Annoying. Show off. Barely understandable. You know, the one that just ran off." He says in a semi-monotone.

"Uh, yeah? Did- did you see the way he.." I trail off. Do I want this person to think I'm insane? Probably not. Should I be telling him I saw this Luca dude split in three? Again, Probably not.

"Yeah. Luca's a witch." The guy informs me, seemingly unimpressed by the fact.

My mind takes me back to the moment Amelia freaked out at the mere thought of a witch. It made me wonder if this Luca guy ever tried anything on her. I wouldn't be surprised.

"Is that..common?"

"Witches? At this specific school, not really. In general, yeah, kinda." He responds.

Unable to get Amelia's reaction out of my head, I find myself asking for more information. "Are they evil?"

The stranger stares into my eyes for a few moments, but I suspected he wasn't staring at me at all, that he was staring into something beyond that- beyond me. "There's evil within anything and everything."

His eyes flicker back to present life. "But no. Not all of them are what you would label as evil. They're just mischievous, mostly harmless."

"Oh." I don't comment on his sudden disconnection with the real world; something told me it was better not to, anyway.

"Well, do you know if he can actually help me get back to where I came from?"

"Can? More likely. Will? I doubt it." The boy shrugs, "Unless you can offer him something interesting, I suppose. That's just a witch type of thing, I'm guessing." He places his fingers around his chin thoughtfully. And for the first time, I notice the tail swaying lightly behind him.

"A wolf?! You're a wolf hybrid!" I exclaim, as if I just made a life-changing discovery, but he just nods while staring at me like I'd gone insane.

He shakes off my exclamations and proceeds, "As I was saying...even though Luca might not be of too much help, there's another witch who is also known to be very good in this school." He reaches into his backpack to pull out some newspaper; it appeared to be the school's newspaper. He flips through it, eyes scanning the pages for whatever he was looking for. "Aha!"

He hands it over, pointing to a specific photo of a dark-haired guy with beautifully mismatched eyes. Class 6F-777's Joel Crawford wins yet another magic tournament! read the headline. The class assortment confused me, but I paid it no attention; this Joel person seems to know what they're doing. "Is it okay if I burrow this?"

"Yeah, no problem!" He smiles.

"Thank you so much! I'm (Y/N), by the way." I take hold of the newspaper and hug it tightly to my chest, like it was the map to a treasure I so desperately needed to find, which it is. I need to leave this place.

"Yukiya." He nods.

"Well, I'm gonna go try to find this Joel. Thank you again for helping me, Yukiya!" I wave as I walk off, but he hesitantly interrupts me.

"I can help you if you want." He offers, to which I immediately agree to.

"Okay, so we can start by checking Class 6F-777." He marches forward, me tailing behind. I take in the corridors as I walk; it looks like a normal school, yet somehow it's home to creatures I thought never existed. Part of me believed it would be interesting to spend some more time here, but I couldn't. I had to go back home.

"Ow!" Coming to a sudden halt after bumping into someone, I pause to take in the lack of anything for me to bump into.

"Watch where you're going!" The person who fades into existence in a matter of seconds glares at me as he leaves.

"That's Lucious. Don't mind him; he gets like when he argues with his girlfriend, but he's actually a very sweet guy. Ghosts can phase through everything, including other bodies; he just chose to bump into you on purpose, but as I said- don't mind him." A blond steps forward, resting an arm on Yukiya's shoulder while keeping his sparkling purple eyes on me.

He finally turns to the wolf hybrid, "Who's your friend, Yukiya?"

Yukiya glances at me, as if to say oh, this one? and looks back to his friend, "(Y/N). She's a human."

"No way!" The blond gasps, "Are you sure?"

"It's a scent I've never smelled before, Elias."

"Still- that could mean a lot of other things! Humans can't be real..."

"I'm right here." I finally announce my presence, though I didn't think I'd need to.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm Elias Goldstein." The blond blushes and holds his hand out for me to shake, which I do.

Before the conversation could pursue, a loud crash catches everyone's attention, eyes quickly searching for the source of the disaster.

"Serge! I told you not to do that here!" A voice growls, as a pink-haired guy rushes outside a classroom in absolute terror.

[forsyth-enthusiast]

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, shh, it’s okay...”

Ren knelt at Kai’s side, whispering in his ear. His hands rubbed soft circles into his back in an attempt to reassure him.

“R-Ren...plea-“

“Kai.”

In an instant, all sympathy had disappeared from Ren’s voice, his eyes becoming cold and unfeeling.

He stood up straight, looking down on his husband.

“Just what are you hoping to accomplish by begging? Come on, you’re smarter than this. You agreed to this. You can’t back out, or it would make you a liar.” As soon as it had disappeared, the warmth in Ren’s demeanor returned, and he knelt down once more to rustle Kai’s hair.

“I promise it won’t last long babe, just try to endure it, for me?”

Kai nodded slowly, writhing against the shackles chaining him down.

“R-right. I’m sorry, you’re right....you always are.”

He flinched as Ren leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll be back soon,” Ren hummed, “I need to get everything ready~”

Kai slumped down once Ren left the room, a thick knot of fear resting heavy in his gut.

‘Agreed to this’ my ass, he thought, you held a knife to my throat...I wasn’t in a position to disagree.

It wasn’t fair. Kai didn’t want the pain, he hated it, but Ren had a way to make him feel guilty, feel fucking horrible for not accepting it. The emotional pain and guilt and stress of defying Ren was worse than whatever physical torture he put Kai through.

...Even if there hadn’t been a knife, Kai would have agreed to this anyway, he needed to, he needed to keep Ren happy.

He really was pathetic.

“I’m back! Sorry for the wait, these things take a while to heat up!”

Kai jolted at Ren’s entrance, scrambling to pull himself up despite the chains weighing him down.

“W-welcome back...”

Ren smiled, a wolfish, toothy, inhuman smile.

But a smile nonetheless.

Smiles were good, Kai was being good.

“So...” Ren’s smile widened and his eyes narrowed.

He brandished the tool he’d be using in this session.

A branding iron, with a simple, four-letter word engraved in it.

Mine.

“Where should we start?”

A blush crept up Kai’s neck and onto his cheeks as he felt Ren’s eyes trail him up and down. A shiver racked his spine...Ren’s eyes on him felt so wrong, so invasive, especially since he had made Kai strip down to nothing but his boxers.

“Kai...”

Ren tapped the iron ever so softly, quickly drawing his hand back at the hiss of heat on his skin.

“This thing hurts a lot!” He chuckled, sticking his finger in his mouth to cool it down.

“I bet you’re real scared right now.”

Ren’s heart fluttered as he met Kai’s panicked eyes with his own gleeful ones.

“Are...are you really going to use that on me?”

Kai eyed the iron with silent terror, his eyes turning to Ren in a quiet plea for something, anything other than this.

“Of course I am. I went through all this trouble to get everything ready, you should appreciate it.”

An order. Kai clamped his mouth shut, knowing better than to question Ren any further. He had to remember that he was at Ren’s mercy, angering him would only make things worse.

“...I’m sorry, you’re right. Th-thank you.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Kai fought back the urge to flinch as Ren gently stroked his hair.

“We should get started, while this is still hot.”

Kai took in a shuddering breath as Ren drew back, preparing to drive the sizzling iron into Kai’s flesh.

“Brace yourself,” was all the warning he got before Ren rammed the molten metal into Kai’s abdomen, his heart pounding with excitement as he heard the sound of Kai’s flesh being scarred and his accompanying sobs.

It burned it burned it burned the iron was sticking to Kai’s skin and leaving ugly red marks and Ren just wouldn’t stop why why why was he doing this is this what it meant to be loved? To wound and maim and scar one with markings, markings proclaiming them as property, that’s love?

It had to be. This was Kai’s purpose.

Inhuman screams tore themselves free from his throat as Ren excitedly marked him all over, the pain was unbearable Kai wanted to tear out his nerves just to make it fucking stop.

“Aha..I love you, I love you I love you I love you so much,” was all Ren could mutter, his words stringing together to form a web in which Kai was entrapped.

It’s why he agreed to this, why he was letting this happen, Kai was entangled in Ren’s web with no hope of escape.

It’s why he stays with Ren, even though it hurts so much, he has no one else.

Even though it hurt so badly, Kai didn’t fight back, he didn’t struggle or shrink away from the branding iron, because he was Ren’s, he was property, that’s all he was good for.

It felt like Kai’s brain was melting along with his skin, seeping out through his ears and leaving him a drooling, sobbing mess.

He could hardly comprehend what was happening to him anymore.

Through dazed eyes, Kai watched Ren pull his arm back once more, about to drive the iron into Kai’s skin.

It didn’t matter. Kai was broken, his brain was mush, too clouded with pain to understand what was going on. He knew that it would hurt, that’s all he understood. He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the burn-

But nothing happened.

Kai cautiously opened an eye, to see Ren dropping the iron. It fell to the cold basement floor with a loud clatter, Ren’s eyes glazed over with boredom.

It was over.

Ren undid the chains binding Kai, leaving Kai to slump into Ren’s open arms, hot tears running down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, shh, it’s okay...”

Those same words, Ren said those same words before he did this, before he hurt Kai, hurt him, broke him beyond repair.

But, he was loved, right?

Ren would take care of him, he always did, it was going to be okay.

Love is precious, it’d be unbelievably cruel of Kai to reject Ren and his love.

“You did such a good job taking all of that baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Ren pressed a kiss to Kai’s forehead.

“Th...thank you...”

This...this was good. Kai did good.

This is what it means to be happy, to be in love.

“I...I love you...p-please...never leave me...”

“Don’t worry babe. I’ll never leave you, for as long as you live.”

[parkkate]

Secret Sessions

@harrypotterandtheintrovertedteen sent me a prompt 😊

can you do a fic where harry is looking on the maurauders map and sees draco in a place in the castle he has never been before so when draco leaves he goes to check it out and finds that draco is painting portraits of harry?

ALSO the amazing @saffie-art (who is not only talented but soooo sweet and nice! 💙) allowed me to use this stunning and perfect drawing as inspiration for one of the portraits. I mean just LOOK AT IT! 😍

Okay, so... fair warning - it turned into 2.4k. Whoops! If you prefer to read it on ao3 - click here. I’m gonna stop babbling now. 😉

“Harry, are you even listening to me? Harry? HARRY!”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry looked into Hermione’s brown eyes, the usual warmth replaced by annoyance and concern.

“Can you stop looking at that map for one second and just listen to me? You haven’t been paying attention in today’s classes either.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry mumbled distractedly, turning his attention back to the map.

“I think you’re falling behind, Harry. Exams are only a few months away.”

“Give him some space, Hermione,” Ron groaned. “We are working hard, you know. It’s not that easy, picking up where we left off before we went to hunt down the horcruxes.”

“I am aware,” Hermione said in a disapproving tone. “I was there, remember?”

She gave Harry another concerned look but he didn’t notice. His gaze was still fixed on the Marauder’s Map, on the little dot labeled ‘Draco Malfoy’. He was pacing the length of the Slytherin common room.

It wasn’t like Harry suspected him of doing something illegal or anything like that. He was just… curious. He had been surprised to see Malfoy return to Hogwarts after the war. Harry had assumed Malfoy had gone to France with his parents. But seeing as Lucius und Narcissa were under house arrest, it probably wouldn’t have been much fun for him there.

As Harry watched Malfoy’s little dot continue its pacing he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. The warmth of the fireplace was soothing but it also made him tired.

“Guys, I think I’m going to-” Harry stopped dead. Malfoy’s dot was suddenly hurrying out of the Slytherin common room. Where was he going? And at this hour? “I think… I’m going to go for a walk,” Harry said slowly.

“What? Harry!”

But Harry was already at the portrait hole, leaving Hermione’s protests behind him.

“Lumos,” he whispered, holding the tip of his wand to the map. He frowned as he saw Malfoy heading for the kitchens. Was he just out for a late night snack? Apparently not.

Harry’s eyes widened as he realised Malfoy wasn’t going to the kitchens but was suddenly standing in the middle of the Hufflepuff common room. What in Merlin’s name was he doing there? Harry got only more confused when more dots appeared, forming some sort of circle. He recognized a few of the names, like Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil and… Neville? Luna?

What was going on? Was this some sort of secret society? Like the DA? Were they performing some kind of ritual? Harry had to find out. He sped away from Gryffindor Tower until he finally arrived in the nook on the right hand side of the kitchen corridor.

As Harry looked at the large barrels, concealing the Hufflepuff common room, he realised he had no idea how to get in. He had heard rumors that a password wasn’t required. Should he just knock? Well, it was worth a try.

As soon as his knuckles made contact with one of the barrels, Harry knew this wasn’t going to work. He waited another moment but nothing happened. Except something did. Harry gasped as a cold splash of water hit him from above, drenching him from head to foot. Only, it wasn’t water. Harry coughed violently as the stench penetrated his nostrils.

“Ugh, vinegar,” Harry moaned. Scrunching up his nose at the awful smell, he trotted back towards his own common room. But he wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. He would find out what Malfoy and the other’s were doing, no matter what.

As it turned out, this unlikely group met up every night, at exactly the same time, in the Hufflepuff common room. After monitoring their dots for about a week, Harry knew exactly when Neville would leave Gryffindor Tower to sneak off to his secret meeting. So one night, Harry waited for him, outside the portrait hole.

“What are you doing out of bed so late, dear?” the Fat Lady asked, scrutinising him.

“Oh, I’m just waiting for someone.”

At exactly this moment, the portrait swung open.

“Aha,” Harry yelled triumphantly.

“Harry,” Neville breathed, boggling slightly.

“Where are you going, Neville?” Harry asked, stretching his lips into an innocent smile.

“Oh, I, um… I’m just meeting Luna.” Harry could see how nervous Neville was.

“Well, then you won’t mind if I accompany you, would you?” Harry said cheerfully.

“Um…”

“Alright, let’s go then. Lead the way.”

Neville looked very uncomfortable as he and Harry, as Harry knew, made their way to the Hufflepuff common room. In front of the large still life, that lead into the kitchen, stood Luna, eyeing it with a faint smile on her face.

“Hi Neville. Oh, hello, Harry.” Her smile widened. “Have you decided to join us?”

Harry returned the smile, his heartbeat quickening.

“I have,” he said nonchalant. He ignored the way Neville was gaping at him and followed Luna to the barrels. He watched her closely as she started tapping one of the barrels; two taps, pause, three taps. Harry suspected it was some sort of code.

“Did you bring your own brush or do you want to borrow one of mine?” Luna asked, her eyes shining brightly.

“My own what?”

Momentarily distracted by Luna’s question, Harry spotted the white-blond hair and Slytherin robes he had been itching to see, much later than he’d usually have. His heartbeat quickened yet again as he approached Malfoy, who was sitting on a wooden stool and seemed to be in deep concentration.

“Hey guys, look who decided to join us,” Luna announced happily, skipping to another wooden stool. There were a few more, arranged in a circle, just as Harry had seen the dots on his map; and in front of each stool stood a painter’s easel.

Harry frowned. This was not what he had expected. At all.

“Potter,” Malfoy suddenly spluttered. “What are you doing here?”

Harry’s eyes wandered over to the Slytherin, who looked panic-stricken.

“I err… felt the sudden urge to paint?”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

“But you can’t paint.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry said defensively, knowing better than anyone that Malfoy was right. He looked around the room, full of unfinished paintings, while a few had been hung on the walls. There were so many different ones. Some were abstract, a mixture of different colours; some showed places around Hogwarts, like the Forbidden Forest.

Harry paused in front of the most cheerful painting in the room. It showed a gigantic field of daisies.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” he said, turning to Luna.

“How did you know?” she asked, beaming at him.

“Just a hunch,” he snickered, eyeing the strange bumblebee-like creatures hovering above the daisies. What caught Harry’s eye next was a very dark painting; it had all kinds of green and black mixed together and there were dangerously glimmering eyes staring back at him. It was a snake. The snake.

“That’s mine,” Neville said as he stepped up beside Harry. He sounded proud but still insecure at the same time.

“Wow, Neville. I had no idea you could paint like this,” Harry muttered in awe.

“Yeah, me neither,” Neville said, looking down at his shoes.

“So you’ve all been coming here to paint every night?” Harry asked, studying the rest of the art. Neville nodded.

“At first we were just talking, you know, about the things we… couldn’t forget.” He peered at his own painting and shuddered. “And somehow it turned into this.” He gestured around the room, a fond smile on his face. Harry followed the movement of his hand until his eyes landed upon a smaller painting, sitting over the fireplace. His eyes widened involuntarily, his mind not fully comprehending what he was seeing.

Slowly, he walked over to it to examine it more closely. His mouth fell open as he stared into green eyes behind rimmed glasses. It was almost like looking into a mirror, although Harry had never given himself such an emphatic look.

The longer he looked at it, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was so weird looking at himself like that and thinking that he looked… beautiful. It seemed too self-centered but there was no other word he could think of to describe this painting. Whoever had done it, had captured Harry perfectly. Even the mole on the back of his neck, which he thought nobody had ever noticed.

“It’s great, isn’t it?”

Harry whirled around, startled. Luna chuckled as she patted his back.

“I think you look very dashing in this painting,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Although I do prefer it when you smile.”

Harry felt the corners of his mouth twitch and gave into the warm feeling coursing through him. He draped an arm around Luna’s shoulders and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“This really is something else,” Harry muttered, gazing at the painting again. “Whose is it?”

“Oh, aren’t you going to guess? I have a feeling you already know whose it is.” Luna sounded very sure of herself. Then again, she always did. Harry did have an inkling; but it couldn’t be. He slowly turned around, searching the room for grey eyes that were probably fixed on him, glowering.

“Hey, where’s Malfoy?” Harry asked, letting go of Luna.

“See? I knew you would guess correctly,” Luna smiled. Harry nodded once, before hurrying out of the common room. He saw dark robes disappear behind a corner at the end of the corridor.

“Malfoy!” Harry started running, his mind still whirling. “Malfoy, wait up!”

When Harry turned the corner, he found that Malfoy had stopped, his hands balled into fists.

“I’m not particularly in the mood to be yelled at, Potter,” he muttered darkly. Harry blinked.

“Why would I yell at you?”

Malfoy turned around, his face red, his mouth set into a sneer.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he whispered menacingly. “This wasn’t some… gesture.” He spat the last word in disgust. “This isn’t some homage to the Boy Who Lived. I’m not one of your little fans.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.

“I am well aware that you aren’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And I get what you’re saying, I’m just… I’m just wondering… why did you paint me?”

Harry watched him intently as Malfoy clenched his jaw and averted his eyes.

“That is none of your business.”

“Excuse me,” Harry exclaimed. “You painted me. You painted me! I think I’m allowed to ask why.”

Malfoy let out a humorless laugh and brought a hand to his forehead.

“I just… I couldn’t forget your eyes.” Malfoy was talking so quietly, Harry unconsciously stepped closer. He startled when Malfoy suddenly looked up again. “The way you were looking at me after the trial…” He made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “I still have no idea what possessed you to testify in favour of me. You had no obligation to do that.” He looked away again, his voice sounding anguished. “We both know your testimony is the only thing that kept me and my family from going to Azkaban. I was so dumbstruck when they told me I was free to go.” He paused, letting out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “I was planning on thanking you,” he said with another humorless laugh. “But then… you were looking at me.”

Harry stood stock-still as he listened to Malfoy’s uneven breathing.

“I was looking at you,” he echoed stupidly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well, you weren’t just looking at me. It was the way you were looking at me.”

A tiny part in Harry’s mind whispered to him that Malfoy painting him because he had looked at him was a little odd. But as everything Malfoy had just told him sank in, the voice in his head died down rather quickly.

“I’m not sure I completely understand,” Harry said truthfully. “Was I scaring you or-”

“You weren’t scaring me,” Malfoy growled. “It was just… My mind went completely blank when you looked at me. Like that.”

Harry reasoned that could mean a lot of things. But, maybe, it meant that this painting had been some kind of homage to him after all. A more personal one.

Weighing his options, he decided it was time to stop playing games and just go after what he wanted. Stepping closer to Malfoy, he mimicked his pose and leaned against the wall.

“You know, instead of going to the Hufflepuff common room tomorrow, maybe we could go down to the lake and you could… paint me there?” Harry didn’t look at Malfoy as he waited for his answer, but he could practically hear his mouth falling open.

“What?”

“Or somewhere else, you know.”

“You want to pose for a portrait? You actually want to- Why in Salazar’s name would you want to do that?”

“Why not?” Harry glanced sideways and saw that Malfoy’s face was twisted in confusion. Harry let out a dramatic sigh and let his head fall back. “Are you really not getting what I am proposing here?” He heard Malfoy snort.

“Why would you want to spend any time with me?”

“Well, I saved you from a trip to Azkaban. Might as well take advantage of it,” he said, meeting Malfoy’s gaze again. The Slytherin still didn’t look convinced.

“Right. Because you only saved me from Azkaban for purely selfish reasons.”

“Maybe,” Harry said without missing a beat. Tentatively, he moved his hand sideways until his fingers brushed Malfoy’s. The blond immediately looked down, obviously dumbstruck. “I think I’d like it if we spent some time together,” Harry murmured, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. He curled his fingers around Malfoy’s hand, hoping the other boy wouldn’t notice how clammy his palm was getting.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you all of a sudden,” Malfoy said, knitting his eyebrows together. “I already have enough portraits of you. I don’t need to make-”

“Wait a second, portraits? As in there’s more than the one I saw?”

Malfoy clamped his mouth shut, looking horrified.

“Oh my God, show me,” Harry almost shouted, gripping Malfoy’s hand tighter and promptly dragging him back down the corridor they came from. “If they’re as good as the one I saw…” A little smile played across Harry’s face.

“Then what?” Malfoy asked, sounding irritated. Harry smirked.

“Maybe I could be persuaded to pose naked for you one day.”

“Potter!”

Harry’s laugh echoed off the walls, as he caught a stumbling Malfoy in his arms, not intending to ever let him go again.

This is where I got all the stuff about the Hufflepuff common room from btw 😉

[isa-ly]

PROJECT NO CONTROL

TW: therapy, mental illness, anxiety, depression, control issues, One Direction

As you have probably noticed by now, I take trigger warnings quite seriously, as I believe that it’s not only important to give people the chance to prepare for or avoid certain content, but also think that it is a good way of showing that one takes the mental health and wellbeing of others seriously. 

Which is why I included One Direction up there, because if anyone who has been part of this fandom will probably remember, Project No Control was one of the most insane and traumatic incidents to ever happen on this platform (Tumblr, that is). Although, I guess the trigger warning is kind of useless in this case, since it only comes after the headline of today’s entry. But hey, I tried.

Anyway, enough about One Direction (is what One Direction also said, five years ago ... still going strong on that “hiatus”, huh guys?), let’s move on to what I want to talk about today. The last couple of posts were definitely not all easy to write, as I shared some things that only the closest of my friends knew about me so far. In a way, simply putting them on this blog doesn’t feel as big of a commitment (remember the one about dumping your problems on social media? Yeah, that’s kind of similar to this) but it also doesn’t leave me completely cold. After all, I’m not just chucking out one sentence about how I’ve been crying into my pillow all day, but instead actually taking the time to elaborate on my feelings, and by doing that, trying to make more sense to myself and actually work through my issues.

Another part of this whole blog idea, was to not exactly know who was going to read it. While all the things I share on here are written and edited by me, the whole compromise lies in letting others read them too. And sure, those are mainly the people who follow me on Instagram (hi, there), since I’m not really influencer enough to have random folks read it, but even that causes me to feel a little bit uncomfortable.

Because I can’t monitor who sees it, I can’t access what people think of it and I’m simply not in control of what happens once I post something.

Ah, yes.

Control.

The little word that not only dominated Tumblr back when those five British guys were still world-wide sensations, but that also seems to dominate my entire life. Only that I didn’t really know that until a few months ago. 

I briefly mentioned it in my last post when I talked about slithering into my quarter-life crisis, which resulted in my anxiety and panic attacks, as well as a mean depression and my low-key burn-out. Anyway, back to the topic of control. I told you the story of how, back in autumn of 2018, I had suddenly and for the first time in my life, found myself in a situation where I was completely out of control in almost every aspect. I had realized that what I was doing and studying, was slowly turning out to be a huge disappointment and even worse than that: I had no idea what to do about it.

Sure, I could have dropped out right there and then. But that wouldn’t really have made things easier, as I still had absolutely no clue what I would have done next. I had no back-up plan, no safety net. Well, I mean of course I had a metaphorical one – that being all my friends who I’m infinitely thankful for – but I still wouldn’t have known what to do with my life in general, had I simply quit university.

This, in addition to the fact that my parents weren’t quite as supportive of the idea of dropping out as some of my friends might have been, just added to the feeling of everything slipping from my hands and me no longer being able to call the shots in my own everyday life. I had been so sure of so many things and from what seemed like one second to the other, that certainty that had always given me such a grand feeling of control, was ripped away from me before I could even bid it a proper goodbye. 

So, there I was. Stuck in a situation that didn’t seem to have a solution or emergency exit. And, well, you just need to read the last entry to see that it didn’t go too well after that.

I remember one fateful day where I had once again been sitting in the library, trying my absolute hardest to write my thesis (and, obviously, failing), until I just gave up again and started watching Netflix on the university computer. As I was sitting there, not really paying attention to whatever show I had clicked on anyway, I felt so insanely frustrated because I just didn’t know what was wrong with me. I didn’t know why I couldn’t write or read my books or just do anything that involved my goddamn thesis.

And this not-knowing, this feeling of staring at what seemed to be so obvious yet invisible to me, drove me up the fucking walls. So, in a desperate attempt of once again solving the riddle that was my own mind, I sat down and did what I’m actually doing right now as well: I started writing. I figured that whatever it was that was keeping me from working on my academic responsibilities (and also causing all my panic attacks and insomnia), must have had its origin at some point in the past.

And since I didn’t know what point that could have been, I decided to start at the beginning. And I mean the literal beginning. I opened a new Word document that – and I am fully serious – started with the words: “Let’s try and make a timeline that starts with me being born”. I know, dramatic as always. But I was ready to commit. I had never considered my life to be something that contained many traumas (oh, innocent past-me), but I was more than ready to dig deep to find some, so I could finally make some sense of why I seemed to be stuck, both emotionally and academically.

I still have that document and I actually briefly skimmed over it just now. And, oh dear. Reading all of that again was not easy. And writing it wasn’t either. I remember sitting at that computer and, despite having thought that there wouldn’t be anything worth mentioning from my past, just typing and typing and typing. When there was nothing else left that came to my mind, I stopped and started reading through it. It was all there, laid out right in front of me, and it was like going on a very nostalgic, sad and painful walk through all the events of my childhood and teenage years that had just been really, really shitty.

So, there I was, reading, thinking, comprehending. And all of a sudden, like the clouds clearing, like the lens sharpening, like the fog lifting, I saw it. I saw the red string. The penny fucking dropped and I literally couldn’t believe it.

“I knew in this moment, that I had lost complete control.” “I had no control.” “Maybe it’s just a way for me to wield control.” “I felt like something was happening that I didn’t have under control.” “It resulted in me trying to get back control.”

All of those sentences were among what I had just written. And you don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what the pattern I had recognized was.

You thought mommy and daddy issues were a cliché? Well, let’s add yet another layer on top of this pile of stereotypes: My incessant, compulsive and almost obsessive need of always being in control of myself and my surroundings.

I remember exactly how I felt when I finally, fucking finally, made the connection in my own head of why I was feeling so hopeless and lost. It felt like getting to scratch that annoying itch you couldn’t reach, like fitting that last puzzle piece into the whole picture. Needless to say, I burst into tears in the middle of the busy library, because while I might be very emotionally repressed, having that massive epiphany did actually make A Feeling happen inside of me, because I had been so desperate to figure out what was wrong for so long.

I’m aware that all of this sounds a bit like a crappy Hollywood movie, as big aha-moments like this don’t often happen in life – or in a library. But this one did. And I’m infinitely glad about that. Because it was in that moment I realized that a) I really, really needed therapy and b) I really, really was not going to finish this stupid thesis just for the sake of it and risk making my already worrisome mental state even more.

In a way, you could say that the urge of making a list and sorting all my traumatic memories from bottom to top, was in of itself a mechanism of yielding control for a short period of time. But okay, I don’t want to completely dissect every tiny action and choice of mine just for the sake of finding out what trauma it might have been influenced by (she says, writing the seventh, ultra-long blog post on dissecting every tiny action and choice of hers just for the sake of finding out what trauma it might have been influenced by).

Alright, let’s recap: On said very fateful day, I realized that the reason why I had been having those panic attacks, why I couldn’t seem to write my thesis and why, in general, I felt so depressed and lost, was because I felt like I was out of control of everything in my current life. And that terrified me. So much so, that it had almost stripped me of my ability to function like a normal person.

Quite the epiphany, huh? Yeah, it felt like that too, back then. And I know that not every realization happens like that. Most of my other soul-searching attempts that came when I started therapy, took a lot longer and required a lot more digging and work until I was able to untangle them. Like, for example, the question that posed itself after having figured out that I seemed to have very severe control issues: What the fuck caused them?

Because yeah, it’s one thing to finally understand what’s happening, but an entirely other thing to know why. Which leads us to part two of this wonderful post. The one where, and we’ve all been waiting for it, the two most important women of my life come back into the picture: My therapist and my mum.

Okay, I need you to know that I just laughed out loud at that last sentence for several minutes and then considered crying a little, too. But, I repressed that urge (healthily, don’t worry) for the sake of finishing this entry. So, let’s continue. (Why do I not have a career in stand-up comedy yet, seriously.)

When I started my personal therapy sessions with Kerstin, one of the first things I told her about, was that trauma-timeline list that I had written. Naturally, as therapists do, she then asked me the exact question I already asked above: “So, where do you think that need for constant control comes from?” And I said: “Well, damn, Kerstin, wouldn’t I like to know!” Okay, I didn’t say that. But in the imaginary sitcom that’s always happening in my own head I did, and then everyone laughed in that super fake ‘Friends’ way. What a blast it was.

Back in the real world, I actually did another load of digging through my past, this time to find the reason behind my, at the time, newly discovered issue with control. Or better, the issue with loosing it. I already talked a little bit about my childhood and teen years not always having been easy, mainly because of the sometimes very difficult relationship with my mum. And, well, it turns out that that “sometimes very difficult relationship” left a lot more scars than I would have ever liked to admit. I always have a hard time talking about this, because it makes me feel like I’m painting my parents as some sort of villains who constantly mistreated me. And that is just not the case. Life’s not black and white like that, and neither is family.

Again, I really had a great time as a child and teen, and my parents loved me, were always there for me and supported me in almost every aspect. But in some others, they let me down. Saying and admitting that breaks my heart. But denying it has broken it even worse in the past. I’m not going to go into much detail here because I don’t feel any need whatsoever to fill the Internet in on my personal family issues.

However, I do feel the need to remind myself why it is okay to talk about where your own current problems and struggles might come from. I’m not pointing fingers and blaming my own mum for everything that ever went wrong in my life, because that would be stupid and simply wrong. But I have grown and realized enough to know that, yes, by raising me the way she did, she did cause me some pretty heavy and painful traumas which I’m still working through today.

One of them being my problem with giving up and losing control.

My mum is such a strong and smart person and I learned so much from her. But she also never let me forget that whatever achievement I accomplished in life, was due to her providing me with support, knowledge and guidance. According to her, whenever I did something wrong, forgot something or made a mistake, it was because I hadn’t listened to her advice or done it the way she would have done it. And whenever I did something right, succeeded and made progress, it was because she had pushed me and told me how. She never let me have any credit of my own. She told me she was proud of me, but she never let me be proud of myself too.

In a way, she raised me thinking that the reason for any and everything I did, was because I either obeyed or disobeyed her. She always had the upper hand and she was always, always in control. Of my failures, of my successes, of my life.

As you can imagine, with puberty added into this already difficult family-mix, shit kinda hit the fan when I got a little older and we basically didn’t speak to each other for an entire year. Whenever we did speak, we’d just end up arguing instead. And that’s where I decided I to simply take matters (and back then, that was pretty much just school) into my own hands. Some other nasty stuff happened in reaction to that, but I actually managed to, from this point on, be independent when it came to studying, organizing and planning everything school-related. To some people, this might sound ridiculous and insane. But in my family, with my mum, this was almost reason enough to literally kick me out of the house.

But I still did it and for the first time ever, I was the one who controlled something. I was the one who decided when to do homework, how much to study and how to keep track of all my school stuff. Again, I realize that some people are probably thinking “Big fucking whoop, it’s just school?!” and yeah, I thought that too. But my mum didn’t. However, I didn’t budge and I kept the upper hand, for the first time in my life.

You can probably see where this is headed. As I got even older and started university, more and more responsibility became my own and my mum had to let go of more and more things she had always controlled for me. Not without a fight, never without a fight, but she did, eventually. I was now the one who decided what I wanted to do (at least most of the time, since I still lived at home and that came with its own set of struggles).

Without getting too carried off here, I’ll just try and make my point: When I realized that what I myself had chosen as a life and career path, was no longer actually something I wanted to do, this sense of control that I had quite literally worked years to get (from my mum and for myself), all of a sudden started to crumble. And subconsciously, without even realizing, this took me back to the mental place of being a hopeless, sixteen year old teenager that felt belittled, powerless and uncredited. Only that now, I had “no one to blame” but my own self.

The way that I had been raised with always having to have such a vice, controlling grip on my own life and academic “career” in order to be in charge of it myself, sat so deep inside of me that having had the minuscule realization of not being fully sure of my future anymore, was enough to throw me so hard that I could barely catch up with how quick I was falling apart.

That was one killer of a sentence, I apologize. But I hope that it got my point across somehow. Maybe this all sounds a bit ridiculous, maybe it doesn’t. I honestly can’t tell, most of the time. But by now, I have come to terms with the fact that how my mum taught or actually failed to teach me the value of giving up control, has greatly influenced me, even if it was just subconsciously. Because had you asked me, I would have told you in a heartbeat that it was no big deal to doubt your academic choices and even less of a big deal to change them or look for something new.

But, deep down, there was another truth that I had grown up with and into, and that one was what started to cause all my inner turmoil, the anxiety, the panic attacks, the insomnia and, eventually, my full-blown burn out. 

And all of that hit me on that one fateful day, in the fucking library.

I feel like I’ve been waffling for ages now but it felt kind of cathartic to get this off my chest. I’m planning on talking about this is another post soon, but this was the first time I realized the crucial difference between saying and living things you want to be your truth, and saying and living things that really are your truth. And back then, I didn’t know I hadn’t been doing the latter for a very long time. Hitting that kind of breaking point was a very unwanted, but definitely also very much needed jumpstart to my journey of working through my own issues. 

The first being the one I had with control.

I’m gonna shut up for good now and just leave you all with two screenshots because they’re just too funny not to include them. They were both reactions to my, dare I say, iconic sentence of my therapist and my mum being the two most important women in my life and well, just see for yourself ...

... sorry, mum. And also ...

... don’t we all?