#and then saying that’s what I do. I’ve been cycling between anger and so much sadness for weeks

[dragontatoes]

We are. Lonely tonite

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G. SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER FIVE : accidental kiss.

NEXT… CHAPTER SIX : clashing clans.

[CONTENT WARNING] - mentions of drug abuse

gojo sat in his office, lost in deep thought after the not so pleasant exchanged he had with his mother. the heated argument made his mind wander back to his youthful, teenager years. recalling the time he had his future wife within arms length.

his first kiss wasn’t something he could ever possibly forget, it was an accidental exchange. ayaka zenin convinced him to slip away from the lavish party their families would throw for any type of celebration in hopes of rekindling the clans relationship. they snuck out and found a quiet spot deep into the gated garden the zenin clan had. under the moonlight, along with pesky bugs and leaves brushing past them, ayaka leaned closer to gojo. the kiss that followed was clumsy and awkward. it was more like an accidental brush of lips than a romantic gesture. gojo vividly remembers pulling back, startled and uncomfortable with the tension ayaka created.

“am i..am i not a good kisser?” her voice was laced in embarrassment and concern.

“n-no! i mean- it’s not that..” the 15 year old gojo fiddled with his collar before finding the right words. “don’t you think you’re rushing it?”

his words caught her by surprise. “rushing?! it feels like we aren’t doing enough satoru. we get married the moment we turn 18 and you can’t even look at me in the eyes!” she cries out.

the relationship lasted all throughout their high school years. everyday was an endless cycle for gojo. he wanted more freedom and say on his future, ayaka asked for the basic forms of love from him, his mother kept breathing down his neck. those last few teenage years were nothing but deep rooted hell.

despite the clans’ hopes, the relationship never blossomed to its full potential. instead it was full of arguments and forced interactions. ayaka anger towards gojo grew more and more each passing day, and gojo became more impatient with her.

“we should call off the wedding and go our separate ways.” she mumbled against gojo’s bare chest. another night of arguing meant another night of making love. it was the only way they got along. the only part that they knew about each other like the back of their hands.

“and what will happen to you? the zenin clan isn’t very…understanding with it comes to women.”

“i don’t know what will happen to me.”

“hey shoko, you don’t call me as much as you promised me that you would!” you joked as you held the phone with one hand, grading student’s essays with the other.

you hear her chuckle from the other side of the line, “guess who called me today asking about you, and how you were doing?”

you sigh before answering, “don’t tell me..” her silence was enough of an answer. your fingers run down down your hair before resting it at your nape. “i’ve told him before that things just wouldn’t work out between us.”

“i don’t know y/n, he sounded really different on the phone today.” she reasoned.

her defense peaked your interest. “different how?”

“well, first he asked me how i was doing, and actually sounded interested in my stories.”

“andddd?” curiosity was starting to kill you.

“and he told me he’s been sober for a few years. he started working under his dad again and got his shit together.”

you sigh as you recalled your own memories with him. he was charismatic and electric. he had the kind of energy that made everyone want to talk to him. everyone stopped and turned to him when he walked into a room.

he had a way of making you feel special. a relationship that started with an innocent crush on him quickly turned into something more. it started with tutoring help, convincing your professor that you didn’t understand the material. from getting regular tutoring sessions from the senior to spending the night at his place if the sessions lasted up into nighttime. the relationship built so fast the same pace it crumbled.

first it was sleepless nights, staying up and begging him to come home to you and to stay off the streets. those nights either led to getting no response from him all or to him being tucked into your hyper feminine bed with you bandaging his wounds.

within that time frame, he opened up to you about his past and his background. you found out he was the son of a well known clan of japan. it was more an old fashioned, or ‘out of date ’ as he liked to put it, clan that stuck to traditional values.

but being well off from generational wealth wasn’t enough for him as he ran off to study abroad in america, where he met you, and got involved into dirty business. it was a way to take control back from his cookie cutter life, as he’d like to put it. at first being with him was a dream come true. but as time went on, he went to a deeper and darker path that you couldn’t help him with.

almost every night ended with you begging him to stay out of trouble, only for you to wake up the next day at 3 am with banging on your dorm door.

“please j-just stay out of trouble. i’m begging you please..” you cried on the edge of your bed. he was sat right across from you, refusing to make eye connect. your tears felt like an arrow through his heart. he’d describe the pain as if every time a tear slipped out your eyes, an angel loses its wings.

“y/n you’re the best thing that’s happened in my life and-”

“can you stop bullshitting me, and can you stop doing drugs and all this stuff.”

“if you can’t support me now then how do you expect us to work out..” he whispered. deep

down, he knew how that hypothetical question would end.

“i guess we won’t then. get out my dorm and call me when you have your life together.”

the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled your nose as you nervously glanced around the shop. you hadn’t seen him in years, not since the fallout of your relationship. when he reached out, you were hesitant but eventually agreed.

the doorbell jingled, and your body instantly sharpens up as you watch him walk through the door. he had hardly changed.

he spots you and smiles, instantly walking towards your direction. “hello stranger, it’s nice seeing you here.”

“w-well we did agree to meet here.” you spoke softly, cursing your mouth for stuttering the first word.

“i see you’re still as timid as a deer, aren’t ya doll?” and no matter how long it’s been, he’s never lost his charm. you didn’t fail to notice the facial tattoos he got in his youthful years slowly fading away. even with the jacket and layers of clothing stuck to his skin, his muscles were still finely outlined and easy to spot.

he interrupted your thoughts before your mind could wander off to more..lewd things. “listen, i know we ended things off on bad terms.” he leans slightly forward, “i’ve changed, and i’ve been thinking a lot about the future. something’s telling me that things will be different than the way they were before.”

you could only blink. being so taken aback, your mouth immediately opens to respond but it fails to respond. before you could make up your mind, the doorbell jingles once again, making the both of you look towards the door.

your eyes immediately make eye contact with the familiar blue eyed business man whom also makes eye contact with you. your breathing staggers, your mouth goes dry, and your palms start to sweat. breaking eye contact with gojo, you glanced back at him. his expression was unreadable, as if his brain turned off.

the over six foot man walks over to your table with a forced smile. “miss.l/n,” he said, his voice strained. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“satoru um,” you stammered. it felt like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. like catching a child reaching into the cookie jar. “t-this is-“

“i know who this is.” “he knows who i am.”

both men had seemingly have the same amount of distaste for each other. gojo’s eyes flickered over to him, and his jaw tightened. “any reason why’d you want to chat up with my son’s teacher, sukuna?”

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[saveyourblood]

The Exit (Evan Buckley x Reader)

Summary: “She isn’t as good as me,” you say. It isn’t a question. It isn’t even a taunt — it’s a simple fact. The one where you and Buck were together, now you're not, and you're cycling through the five stages of grief.

Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: mild violence, toxic(ish) relationship

“There’s no way he moved on that quickly.”

Denial. 

Hen just looks at you. You take another sip of your drink. 

She successfully convinced you to go out after work for the first time in months. Unfortunately for her, that doesn’t mean you’re good company. Your only plan for the night is to get so drunk that you can get his face out of your head. 

“It’s like I always say: Men ain’t shit.”

“You literally never say that.”

“I don’t have to, because they ain’t shit,” Hen grins. 

You try to smile. God, you wish you could. You’re pretty sure that night stitched the corners of your mouth into a permanent frown. 

“I just can’t believe it,” you mutter. You signal for the bartender. 

Hen sighs. “Look, babe, there’s no way that relationship is going to last. She’s a rebound.” 

“You think he’d introduce us to his rebound?”

“The whole point of a rebound is that you don’t know it’s a rebound,” Hen explains. “Buck thinks he loves her because he still loves you, and that love doesn’t just… disappear. It has to go somewhere.”

“Why can’t I have it?” 

Hen sighs again, a sad smile on her face. 

“Maybe I was just a really shitty partner,” you cede. “Maybe if I could be better, we could be better.” 

Bargaining. 

Hen’s in the middle of a sip, but she shakes her head anyway. “No, that’s not what happened.”

“I don’t even know what happened. I think that’s the worst part. I mean, here’s this man that I think I’ve been in love with for the last three years, and the second I mention the word ‘marriage,’ he runs for the hills.”

“He’s got some personal shit to work through,” Hen says simply. “Shit that you can’t fix.” 

“But why couldn’t he let me at least help him? Isn’t that what a partner is supposed to do?” 

Hen plays with the napkin on the bar in front of her. “Buck’s never had a real partner — not until you came into his life. I think underneath the macho firefighter charade is a boy who’s just… scared of how he feels.”

“He doesn’t know how he feels,” you scoff. 

The bartender wordlessly fills the empty shot glass in front of you. You take it the second he’s done pouring it, wincing as it burns your throat. 

“Maybe that’s what he’s scared of,” Hen says softly. 

“He can’t be that scared: he has a girlfriend,” you retort bitterly. You push your empty shot glass around aimlessly before quietly adding, “I’m so tired of feeling this way.”

Depression.

You won’t be reaching Acceptance anytime soon, so for now, you cycle through the other stages of grief… except for Anger. 

You and Anger either don’t get along or get along far too well. You and Anger is either tequila and lime or tequila and a goddamn blowtorch. Anger gets you everything you want or it ruins it, and there’s no in-between. You’re not friends, not even close; Anger is your shadow, nipping on your heels, ready to strike in the right lighting. 

You look over your shoulder at the pool table. Buck and Eddie are taking turns shooting, and off to the side sits Taylor. 

You don’t get what Buck sees in her, yet you absolutely get it, and it’s an infuriating paradox. She’s a news broadcaster, but she looks like she could be a model. Where you have scars and curves, Taylor is clear and straight-edged. She flips her long red hair over one shoulder, and even under the shitty bar lamp, it shines. 

It’s the right lighting. 

You push yourself away from the counter and hop out of your seat. You march across the bar, far too steady on your feet considering how much you’ve drank. It’s as if Anger, which usually follows behind you, is propping you up and pushing you forward. 

Taylor sees you first, because of course she does. She smiles a little as her eyebrows furrow. It’s juvenile, but you kind of want to punch her in the mouth and see what her perfect little smile would look like with a fresh painting of blood over it. 

“Is everything alright?” She asks innocently. 

“Yeah, just… Buck, can I talk to you? Outside?” 

Buck, who’s lining up a shot, looks up. His mouth opens slightly before he forces it closed, his jaw clenching in the process. He quickly shoots, the cue ball bouncing off the side of the table before hitting another ball. He doesn’t even look to see if he made the shot; he stares at you the entire time. 

He stands up straight, rolling his shoulders back. “Yeah.”

Buck leads the way. If Anger wasn’t following you so closely, you’d feel Taylor’s gaze burning a hole in your back. 

It’s cold outside. Not unseasonably, considering it’s February. Hell, it’s not even actually cold; you grew up on the East Coast, so where you’re from, winter chills you to the bone. Here in LA, winter is more like a breath of fresh air from the summer's unrelenting heat. 

Buck crosses his arms over his chest. He’s from the East Coast too, so you know he isn’t cold.

“What’s up?” He asks.

You laugh. Like, actually laugh. You haven’t done it in so long that you almost forgot how it sounded, how it feels. You missed the rumble in your chest and the shaking of your shoulders. You missed laughing, and you missed laughing with him. 

Buck isn’t laughing, though. He’s just staring at you. 

“You know what? Nevermind,” you chuckle, turning on your heel. 

You take a few steps down the sidewalk before Buck calls after you. “Where are you going? You’re the one who wanted to talk!”

You stop dead in your tracks, any trace of a smile leaving your face. 

Buck shifts behind you. He’s close enough to hear but not close enough to feel. 

“Does she know?” You ask, back still turned to him. 

He shifts again. You let the silence deafen you both.

“...It hasn’t come up.”

You laugh again. It isn’t genuine this time. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

You try walking away again, but Buck grabs your arm. It feels like his fingertips are made of fire. You spin around to face him, causing him to let go. His jaw is set again. 

You grab fistfuls of his shirt, spinning him around and pushing him against the brick wall of the neighboring building. 

Anger. 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” you growl. “You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

Buck keeps fucking staring at you. He raises his chin a little, but he doesn’t try to move your hands. 

“You are so full of shit, you know that?” You continue, shaking your hands a little before letting go of his shirt. 

“You’re drunk.”

He can smell it on your breath. He can’t possibly know you well enough to know you’d never say any of this sober. Because sure, you were together for three years, but you’re not together anymore. One of the reasons for that has to be that he doesn’t know a damn thing about you. 

“You’re still full of shit,” you repeat. Even you can tell that it isn’t as convincing this time. You take a step back; being this close to him is making your stomach turn. 

Buck pushes off the wall, towering over you. “How? How am I full of shit?” 

“You’re a liar,” you say, tilting your head up to stare at him. You won’t let him intimidate you. 

“A liar?” Buck challenges, getting closer to you. 

Anger. Anger. Anger. 

You put your hands on his chest and push him against the wall again. You aren’t strong enough to manhandle him — to a certain extent, he’s letting you push him around. That pisses you off even more. 

“You lied to me for three fucking years straight,” you hiss. 

“How?”

“You told me you loved me.”

Your voice wavers, and you can’t stand the sound of it. You clench your jaw and take in a breath, which you let out shakily. No fucking way are you going to let yourself cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve your tears. 

“You told me you loved me, and when I wanted more, you ran,” you say, pausing to swallow. “You told me you loved me for three years, and not even three months later, you’re showing off your new girlfriend.”

If only for a second, you swear his vision drops to your lips. Buck goes right back to staring at you, though, and you see his jaw pop — he’s getting angry. 

Good.

“Are you ever gonna tell her?” You challenge. You lean in, the gap between you growing shorter every second.

His jaw doesn’t relax. 

A chuckle escapes you. Of course he isn’t. 

You put your hands on the wall, inches from Buck’s waist on both sides. You lean in, turning your lips to his ear. “Remember this, Evan Buckley: everywhere she touches you, I was there first.” 

Buck grabs your face with one hand, and your brain short-circuits. Your chin is tucked between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his fingers resting on your cheek and neck. He pulls you back first, then turns you around until it’s you who’s pressed against the wall. 

Then, he kisses you. His hand stays where it is while the other pins your hip in place. The kiss doesn’t feel like it used to; it’s somehow worse yet better than when you were together. There’s no trace of love in the way his tongue slides across yours or the way he takes your lip in between his teeth. Everything about this is so rough, so raw, so needy.

Eventually, Buck brakes away but keeps his forehead pressed against yours so hard you think it might leave a bruise. He huffs out a few breaths that you gratefully inhale. 

“She isn’t as good as me,” you say. It isn’t a question.  It isn’t even a taunt — it’s a simple fact. Three months ain’t got shit on three years. 

“You just had to go and fuck things up, didn’t you?” He mumbles, voice gravelly. 

He’s kissing you again. Your head is fuzzy, and you know it isn’t from the booze. He’s pressing into you, but you manage to snake a hand in between your waists to palm him. He’s half-hard, and when you make contact, he lets out a low groan into your mouth. You swallow it whole. 

His words finally register. You squeeze him, probably a little too hard. He groans again, finally moving his hand from your face to the wall behind you for leverage. 

“I fucked things up?” you challenge quietly. Your hand hovers over Buck’s crotch, and he leans closer, desperate for any connection. “You’re the one who ended things.”

“You’re the one who wanted to change things,” Buck argues. 

His head dips, and he starts to kiss your neck. You let out a small sound at the sensation, biting your bottom lip to quiet yourself. You’re still pissed at him, but you continue palming him through his pants, which earns you another groan. 

“I brought up the idea of a future, and you ran,” you say between heavy breaths. “You’re more scared of change than you are being alone. It’s pathetic.” 

Buck bites the skin above your collarbone in protest to your words. You wince; it’ll definitely leave a mark. 

The weird thing about your relationship with Buck is that it never really felt like it ended. At least, that’s how you took things. One second, you were happy, and the next, you were moving into a studio apartment that wasn’t his. There was no funeral, no eulogy, just a loss so deep that it gave you whiplash. You didn’t bury your relationship under six feet of dirt; you buried it under six feet of snow. You buried it alive. And the snow is melting. 

Buck’s hand sneaks under your waistband, and it’s as if the alcohol in your bloodstream burns off. You’re left sober, staring at a sickening reality: this is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Even though it feels so fucking right, it is so fucking wrong. 

Both of your hands find his shoulders. You push him away, not as roughly as before, not even with a lot of force. Really, all it takes for him to pull away is the change in your demeanor. 

“You have a girlfriend,” you whisper.  

You still don’t think it’s fair that he got to move on so quickly. Buck is flying down the freeway and left you at an exit miles back. He’s moving on way faster and way better than you ever could. It doesn’t feel fair. But then again, it doesn’t matter what you feel. Because there is no ‘you and Buck’ anymore: it’s Buck and Taylor, and somewhere in the backdrop, there’s you. 

Your hand finds his wrist, which you pull away slowly. You press your lips together, then let out a sigh. “You should probably get back to her.”

Acceptance.

[leviathanspain]

you NEED to write more for Tom 😭😭😭 like I’ve been thinking so much about age-gap f!assistant tropes with Tom it’s actually insane, like Tom asking you nonchalantly to ride his thigh (or him) in his office 🌸🌸

skin tight

tom wambsgans x assistant!reader

synopsis: tom knows how to push your buttons perfectly, and you let him

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tom wambsgans was a total asshole. he was arrogant, thought himself to be the hottest piece of ass to ever come out of ATN and you were stuck working for him, bringing him coffee just to never drink it, or to make you run all around the city looking for a bagel that didn't exist. it was an endless cycle, but you found him to be the most tolerable associate of the roy family, and decided that between him and kendall, being tom's assistant wasn't all that bad.

if you ignore the obvious sexual tension of course.

"here is that-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before tom waved you away. you sighed, rolling your eyes as you spun on your heel and stepped out of his office, tossing the scalding cup of coffee into the nearest bin before settling back down at your desk. that had been the third time today that tom had made you get things for him, just for him to send you and it away. normally you wouldn't let this behavior phase you, but it was starting to get to be too much.

there had been a break in your thoughts and you turned to glimpse into tom's office, and found him already looking at you. you gasped slightly in surprise and stood up, knowing that this had been no coincidence.

you kept your head bowed as you stepped inside the office. you could feel his eyes on you, feeling the irritation coming from his gaze. you swallowed thickly, "tom?" was all you could manage, unsure of what to say, especially to him.

"close the blinds," he spoke quietly, not whispered but a quiet, and serious tone. you did as he said, moving to first close the one directly facing your desk. you watched as the life of the ATN office was shut away by the white blinds. your hands shook slightly but you finished the rest. you turned around, silently waiting for him to speak.

he finally did speak, after a minute of unbearable silence.

"now come fuck yourself on my thigh." his words had left you speechless, but you weren't exactly opposed to not doing as he said. you stared at him for a moment and he shrugged, "clearly you've been angry with me. i am giving you an opportunity to release that anger." he spoke cooly, glancing over at his computer, as if this was like any other work conversation.

you waited, thinking.

"okay." you decided, and watched as tom looked up in mild surprise, as if he hadn't expected you to agree. how could you not? not when he's been subtly hitting on you since your employment. tom wambsgans was an asshole, and cheating on his wife had been nothing new at this point. nearly everyone in waystar royco had heard of shiv and tom's marital problems.

tom watched as you walked over to his desk. you were wearing a tight black pencil skirt, so tight that he could see your hip indentations. you leaned against his desk, his thigh next to you. "i need you to pull my skirt up. It's-" you didn't finish, his fingertips grazed your skin as he shucked your skirt up, seeing your lacy underwear peeking out. he looked at you and you remained unmoving, letting him proceed to remove your panties, gently pulling them and letting them slide down your legs.

he patted you to step out of them. you inhaled a breath as his finger ran once over your slick folds. your breath shook slightly but your thoughts were clouded by lust. all you could think about was how good your cunt will feel against his thigh.

tom didn't remove his pants. he was going to let you fuck yourself on his hundred dollar suit pants.

you hovered over him, and his hand found it's way to graze your cheek, brushing your hair back as you finally sat down on his leg, feeling the friction of the fabric against your cunt. you shivered, and tom's hand moved to your waist, gripping it.

you inhaled sharply as your hips began to move.

"i was doing it on purpose." he spoke, eyes glued to the sight of your pussy grinding down on his thigh. tom smirked, "watching you listen to my demands like it was the word of god.." he trailed off and you grunted, "shut up." you whispered weakly, too focused on the pleasure to defend yourself properly.

you knew tom saw you as nothing but his young female assistant, nothing other than someone to fuck. what you were currently doing did not help your image. in his eyes, you were weak, a plaything, a punching bag.

you moaned, unable to hold yourself up, you grabbed onto his shoulder to steady yourself. tom grunted softly, "mmhm, let me hear you baby." he whispered, hand brushing through your hair. it was slightly romantic, and it made you feel uneasy. romance was something that had to be avoided at all costs with tom wambsgans.

you panted, and gripped his shoulder tightly as you felt yourself getting close. he chuckled deeply. "you're so wet, you're seeping through." he loved it, he loved how good his thigh was making you feel. he could only imagine how you would look stuffed with his cock.

you shivered, moaning loudly as you came all over his thigh. tom gripped your waist, and he was smirking, watching as you fell against him. he was warm, the fabric of his suit felt nice against your cheek. even his hand had been rubbing your back.

you jolted up, and awkwardly leaned off. you stood up, deciding to struggle to get your skirt down as he looked at the mess you had made on his thigh. you were blushing red, hot and absolutely bothered. you stared at him, and at your crumpled panties that you had forgotten to slip back on. he followed your gaze and picked them up.

tom stuffed them into his pocket, and scooted back behind his desk. he began to work as if nothing happened and you remained planted, quiet and exhausted.

tom didn't glance at you, "you can go. and don't ever roll your eyes at me again." you began to walk away, "yes, sir."

asshole, you thought silently, letting his office door slam behind you as you walked past your desk, deciding to take the rest of the day off.

[natalie-goodmn]

Next to Normal round 3 thoughts:

there’s a lot of things I noticed this time that I didn’t before but that’s just bc as a Natalie stan I must be looking at her the whole time

- I never noticed Gabe throwing Dan’s keys in Just Another Day before that’s SO funny

- I also finally saw Diana kiss Henry, she really WENT FOR IT

- is it just me or does the Wyndhams need to turn up their mics?? Maybe it’s just that I need it In My Ear Canal but I’ve noticed the singing is a bit quiet (I also didn’t notice this in Oklahoma)

- I love Gabe holding the microphones to Natalie and Dan during their I’m Alive dialogue. He might be a demon with the spirit of a dead two year old but he’s sooo silly :D

(this is getting long so more under the cut)

- something something Natalie playing her fake keyboard with the band’s piano behind her, something acting and pretending like she’s a normal person with a normal family

- I just realised that Gabe AND Natalie licks up Diana’s leg. Diversity win

- the parallels of Gabe and Diana reaching out to each other in Im Alive vs Natalie reaching down to her in Wish I Were Here (and maybe Catch Me I’m Falling) i feel sick,,,

- Gabe holding Diana in I Am the One like Henry’s holding Natalie, welcome back Freudian Gabe

- also the head kiss parallel with Gabe in Just Another Day and before he’s about to leave in I Dreamed a Dance

- the blood is so visceral but a part of me misses the bway staging too where they just walk off slowly and as dr madden talks abt Diana’s attempt. It’s basically the same thing but the reveal felt slower idk

- also man every time I miss the donmar staging of the one tiny bit where Dan’s going “Is this helping or? Di?” as Diana just walks off and back to the therapy chair. Idk it just felt like dissociation better to me, but I do like Ominous Circle Of Thinking

- I also love love love how they play the “I love you as much as I can” in this. They play it like a failed charm roll, and you really get everyone’s frustration and that she’s trying hard

- and then in Maybe when you see that Diana actually knows Natalie deeply bc she’s like her,,, hold on. Similarly, I love how the first person Natalie hugs in act two (I think?) is Diana instead of Henry. Me when the real story is between a mother and daughter (mamma Mia who)

- Diana rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘oh my fucking-‘ to Dan going “can you tell me what it is you’re afraid of” is maybe the best representation of anxiety and I’m not even kidding, MOOD Diana

- god I know it’s been in all the productions but I love how much agency Diana has, you rarely see it with mentally ill characters but she’s so funny and knows what she wants and I love her

- everyone’s said it, everyone knows it but JACK WOLFE god he’s amazing every time

- I’ve thought this both times, is it just me or when Gabe is silhouetted (I think with the music box) is his neck like inhumanly thin??? Like genuinely asking, I don’t think that’s Jack’s neck?? Is it?? Am I just misunderstanding human anatomy when someone wears a hoodie

- I’ve said it before but I Am the One reprise is one of the best scenes in musical theatre and it should end there. I’m a Light hater SORRY, I like the message a lot but it’s always felt like a studio note or something where they’ve been told that it has to be uplifting at the end or it’ll do badly and make everyone sad

- natalie,,, covering her ears and her big headphones. Autism. Also really love Eleanor’s portrayal of her anxiety. Instead of Jen’s anger, she has a hamster like anxiety quality to her (complimentary)

- also I swear I see no one talk about it WHEN GABE TOUCHED NATALIE’S HAND??? AND SHE NOTICES SOMETHING??? That’s new for this production right?? Theories???

- Natalie starting to tidy up Gabe’s toys,,, she’s breaking the cycle,, she’s the hope. And playing with them with Henry and showing him the bunny toy 😭

- I’ll say it. The “you’re like number one on my list of problems” doesn’t work that well if you don’t have Jen and Adam’s sarcasm. Too earnest. Banned.

- I’ve said a lot abt this Henry but I actually like this act 2! He plays him v desperate and anxious which I don’t think Adam does, it shows the stakes for act two. Also his arc UGH. From being a Dan parallel where he’s saying he’ll be perfect for her and that he wants who he knew and that he’ll stay anyway because he made a promise to,,, the dance and saying that he’ll stay bc he loves her and he doesn’t care if she goes crazy

- Also I think Natalie mouths ‘help me’ as she stops Henry from walking off in A Promise owwww

- also Henry apologising to the pianist after the recital (I think?) and picking up Natalie’s bag from the club 😭

[lavishl0ve]

hi guys!! i’ve lowk been to a slytherin boys kick (ml, mattheo riddle lol) and decided to write a little about him. I haven’t posted in a while but i might as well share for any of the other girlies which enjoy just as much mattheo as me. Enjoy 💋🫶

(Sorry to my Johnny Slaughter stans)

OH i also take any story ideas if you wanna send me a dm 🙏

⚠️ Story Context: Fighting between you and Riddle was never unordinary, but that was until this night where it turned physical…

This Friday night played out as it always did, no studies on weekends which meant party time. A decent gathering but nothing too impressive. (As per invite from Pansy). Perhaps 200 students, flashing neon lights that gave you a headache after what was a couple too many drinks, and always losing trace of Mattheo Riddle- your boyfriend. He’d always seemed glued to a corner, puffing something into the air, whether it was outside or with Theo it never really made a difference. He would do it. Over, over, and over again, and each time he’d come back to your dorm, many hours after the party he specifically brought you to, he’d always smell like something. Cigarettes, weed, alcohol, as long as it was a substance there was a chance. Some days he’d even show up with fresh bruises or blood running from some open wound. But tonight it would be different.

Partying takes a toll on everyone every once in a while, for you it was today. You find yourself slumped on the corner sofa near Enzo and Pansy- your closest friends. Leaning your head on Enzo’s shoulder you watch Pansy down shot after shot. You roll over slightly- your back now pressed against Enzo’s side for a better view. Common chatter with Pansy subsides before she runs off to the dance floor with Blaise. You knew the drill, and therefore the rest of the night was filled with mindless, deep, drugged chatter with the also very bored Enzo Berkshire. It wouldn’t be long before the blasted music started to make your ears ring; You went back to your dorm.

The cycle continued, you lay sprawled out on your bed in your sweaty makeup and the somewhat kept hair you curled earlier this evening staring at the ceiling on those cold silk sheets that felt so nice under your warm sickly feeling skin- this moment always made you feel disgusted. You knew what was about to come. And with that sudden thought an intoxicated Mattheo barges through the door.

Physically, it was worse tonight. You could see the redness in his eye, the stumble in his walk and the stench coming off from him.

He leans over you, planting a light kiss on your cheek before taking a inhale…

“You fucking whore.” He scoffs, muttering under his breath.

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, tilting your head to find some sort of understanding from his actions.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mattheo says- voice rising, “I can smell him all over you.”

You take a whiff of your clothes, Enzo's cologne. It had rubbed onto your dress.

“Oh god Mattheo, it’s Berkshire’s!” You argue,

“Yeah right.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that Mattheo, YOU were the one that ditched me at that party. At Least he was good enough to not leave me there-“ you pause, “And what did you do? Get intoxicated enough to not even realize your best friend's cologne?!”

Tensions filled the air.

Mattheo strides around the room, pacing at your sharp words before taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Even the way he puffed the smoke showed his anger.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Sometimes it’s like you’re not even my boyfriend anymore..” you sigh.

Your sudden denying of his love for you triggered something in him, he suddenly lunged at you, gripping deep into your shoulder, “Don’t you ever say that again-“ A pooling sensation grows in your left shoulder,

You glance, his lit cigarette scorched into your soft skin. You yelp in defiance. That only resulted in him tightening his grip.

“You know I’d do fucking anything for you!” He hisses through teeth.

With that sentence he pushes you back from his grip onto the bed you had lay on.

You curl up, gripping the shoulder which he burned- finding zero comfort in the cold silk sheets. It felt like fire erupted within your skin, screaming to tear your flesh apart for a single slice of air.

After longing moments Mattheo's busy mind notices your quiet cries, in the same position he’d left you. Something was wrong- and he noticed it now sobering him up.

His shadow appeared at your side. Mattheo Riddle has always had a violent reputation… but he’d never done anything to you. Until now.

You flinch at his approach- hiding your face away from his gaze. His cold hand reaches out to your right shoulder, turning you toward him slightly as he brushes pieces of your hair aside. He glances at the glistening trails gliding down your once done face.

“Wha- wha-“ He mutters,

Mattheo Riddle couldn't form a sentence. Abnormal.

A flicker of desperation ran through his gaze trying to understand the pain point of your crying.

Mattheo narrowed your body slightly toward him more when he saw it. He ran his calloused hands delicately over the reddening burn four times- almost like he couldn’t believe it. The crumpled cigarette on the bed focuses into his view. You sense his breath hitch at his realization- his touch twitching on your skin.

You tilt your head up slightly towards him, his unfocused look on the burn along with his rapid breathing delivered a difference in his demeanor.

You reach out to his tightening palm which he cusped on his thigh, with your contact it seemed like a broken spell. Mattheo dark eyes instantly refocused onto yours searching within them for a sign of sincerity, he cupped your face within his hands,

“I’m so sorry..” his voice cracked,

You nod slightly at his apology as he places a strong hand on the back of your head bringing you into his grasp.

He muttered “I'm so sorry” over and over again like a constant record, almost like you’d never forgive him for the horror he brought upon you.

But you knew you would.

Because you always have.

[storywriter007]

I Won't - Jason Grace x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n is done being jason's last resort

warnings: cursing, suggestive, emotional turmoil

genre: angst

word count: 858

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n felt someone knock on her cabin door. she peeked outside to see someone that made her stomach drop. nevertheless, she opened the door.

“jason? are you alright? what’re you doing here, it’s past midnight.” she asked.

this wasn’t the first time jason had shown up at odd hours in the night. 

on the surface, y/n and jason were friends. friends who got along because they were forced to hangout with one another so much. but somehow, every time they hung out, it always ended the same. y/n waking up next to a man who was hot hers.

“yeah, i’m fine i guess. piper and i broke up.” he sighed.

y/n felt bad, of course, but honestly, they were on and off all the time. they broke up every two weeks, would go without each other for a week, and then they would be back together. it was a never ending cycle. it’s easy to infer where jason ended up every time they broke up.

she let him in.

“i’m sorry.” she said, patting his back. “is it like permanent? you’re not getting back?” 

she knew that might’ve sounded harsh, but it was true.

“she said she’s ‘fucking done’ with me. we had this whole stupid fight, and she just ended it.” he explained. “i’ve never seen her so angry.”

“maybe she’ll change her mind? she could’ve just been stressed about something else.” y/n comforted, knowing her words were daggers that only stabbed her.

she really liked jason. like head over heels. sure, he’s a hero, and that made everyone want him, but what y/n loved about jason was who he was. a smart, kind, and caring man. she loved him, not what he had accomplished. but here she was, assuring him another girl would come back to him.

“maybe.” he agreed. 

a moment of silence passed between the two. 

“but, it kind of got me thinking about you.” he started.

y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“what do you mean?” she asked.

“it got me thinking about how you’ve always been there for me.” he continued, leaning in so that he was barely inches away from y/n. “how long we’ve being doing..this.”

“where are you going with this jason?” she asked, her heart feeling heavy.

“if me and piper are really done, i think we should give you and me a shot.” he said, in a low, husky tone.

they were about to kiss. was y/n’s dream finally coming true? had jason finally realized she loved him? or was he just looking for a replacement. his words repeated in her head, and the more they played over, the louder another thought became: she was his second choice.

“jason.” she said.

“hm?”

she wanted to kiss him, she really did. but she held it back.

“you’re fucking insane if you think that’s how you win me over.” she spat coldly, getting up.

“y/n, i wasn’t trying to-“

“no, shut up jason! you were trying. you knew what you were doing, coming here every time you and piper broke up!” she said, anger filling her voice. “you knew that i liked you. you knew that i would do anything just for two minutes of your attention. you knew that i’d let you touch me because i was so desperate for you to say you felt someway about me!”

“how was i supposed to know? you never told me anything!” he argued, standing up.

“maybe every time i let you fuck me should’ve been a clue!” she persisted. “i’m sick of being your second choice! im sick of being your fuck buddy whenever you can’t have piper! i’m sick of you hiding me! i won’t continue to be the girl you come to whenever you’re horny or in a bad place with piper! i won’t fucking do it!”

“if you never wanted to do this, all you had to do was say something. you know i would’ve never forced you.” he said, angrily.

“yes jason but what part of ‘i was so desperate for you to notice me’ do you not get?” she yelled.

he shook his head.

“you’re blaming me for the fact that you decided to sleep with me.” he chuckled.

“i’m blaming you for toying with my emotions!” she shouted.

y/n composed herself, and realized jason was not worth all of this yelling and screaming. he was worth nothing but a goodbye.

“look jason, i’m done being your second choice. i won’t do that to myself because i don’t deserve it. don’t come to my cabin again, don’t talk to me for anything other than work, and don’t call me.” y/n finished. “you’re free to leave.”

he chuckled before making his way towards the door and leaving.

y/n took a minute to process what had just happened. and yes, she was upset she lost jason, but he was worth losing if his only interest in her was her body. six words echoed in her mind as she laid in the darkness.

i won't do this to myself

[wolfpawzjakey]

Jercy Mpreg - It's such a good opportunity for character research. A study of Jason's character.

The fear of being like his father had never been so strong, and when Percy informed him that he was expecting a child from him.

what if the child is under a lot of pressure because he is the legacy of Jupiter and Jason's child?

What if he doesn't do well as a parent? What if one day he's not around and something happens to Percy and his baby? So many scary "what if's".

It's really delicious.

HAHA

I’ll bite anon.

This is a no judgement or care blog, I will literally respond to it all even if I am caught off guard UNLESS it’s like a triggering subject.

I’m not an expert in this field, but I’ll bite. I reposted the Mpreg thing a joke because it is a technically correct thing but I’m bitting and I’m not letting go. It’s my civil duty to respond to my askers 🤲🏻

I will focus on Jason mostly in this reply because you mentioned it being a good character study for him.

-

Jason has always been fearful of being compared to his father. Who wouldn’t when said father is Zeus/Jupiter, notoriously powerful and scary. Also notoriously a massive dick head who literally just stomps his feet and acts like a toddler when things don’t go according to his ruling. His track record is oil slicked and murky, Jason can’t bear to be compared to that. And yet, he fears so much he could do some of the wrong his father has, could be a vile person like that or as violent as he is. It fills him up with such dread sometimes that it chokes him.

When Percy tells Jason he’s expecting, he’s throttled. Because all of those fears have new meaning. He has direct reason for those fears when before, while, yes, still has many reasons, this one plays on the parental fear he’s always had. He’s never had stable parents, never had anyone to rely on, how in the gods green earth is he supposed to do this right and not fuck up. His worries are safety blanketed by Percy though, a fire that’s not fully out but is contained enough to not cause himself harm.

Jumping to his acceptance of having a child than gives him worry of “dear gods what if this child is subject to the absolute sheer weight of pressure Percy and I were put under when we were younger? This child is special by a million miles and would have so many eyes on them. Stress after stress pours into his mind and out of his body that it’s crazy, he’s trapped in this never ending cycle of “Jesus Christ, in one way or another, I’ve cause havoc to my unborn child”.

And more worries grow because of course they do. They grow and they’re mostly squashed, he has Percy and their friend, he’s never alone and he has way too many people around him to let him fuck up. Plus if he ever upset THE Sally Jackson? Oh, he’d be dead for sure. But the thought still weigh on his mind. This is his child. His and Percy’s, and god he knows Percy will be good with them, whoever they are and whatever they turn out to be like, but him? He has no sense of what it’s like to be a good parent, it scares him to no end that he could fuck it all up. That he could be the reason this child grows up with anything wrong. He fears that he could ruin a relationship he hasn’t even gotten to have with a little human who has yet to come into this world. Because what if his anger gets in the way? What if he gets angry at something they do and says something he doesn’t mean? What if the rough nature he’s grown up in and the rough treatment he’s been shown pops up in how he handles their child? Sure, Percy would probably bring him to an early grave, but he would probably hope for one if he’d ever destroyed the bond between himself and his child.

And gods, what if he dies early? What if he leaves this earth without meeting his child? Or passes just after he’s met them? He’d be a failure. To Percy and their child. He’s plagued by these thoughts. These daytime nightmares.

They’re not quelled by Percy, just kept at bay. They not quelled by their child the moment they arrive in this world, but day by day, they do get less frequent. The worries linger daily, but with the two most important people in his life, he doesn’t simmer in them unless necessary.

-

Uhhhhmm, I tried?? It’s not super in deep with the Mpreg stuff! BUT! I tried as best I could!

Like I said! This blog is a judgement free space unless like… it’s involving anything super depraved and triggering. So please my friends, keep asking me!! I love having discussions and I love hearing from you! Thank you for sending this to me anon <3

[dy6nsty]

Maybe iii cheats on reader

══════════════════════ Alr, ty!!! ^^

III x Reader, Cheating(?)

══════════════════════

It had maybe days— or even a week since you’ve last tried to communicate with III. Avoiding him in every way you could and only acknowledging him when needed.

All of it started when he began to act odd after a tour. Than it became a natural occurrence to you. Whenever he came back from abroad or any tour he immediately pushed himself away from you.

Could it be that he was cheating? Were your overthinking all of this? You didn’t want to think, maybe if you waited it out he’d do it himself. Except both of you were doing the same thing: Ignoring each other.

You both were waiting for one to come crawling back and explain, atleast talk! But no word, not a single one. III had began to grow irritated with it.

The same cycle beginning to repeat. He’d just came back from a tour, you didn’t try or even budge to greet him. III ignored it. But that was a whole few days ago.

You walked right past him, he watched you walk by him. Nothing. Not a glance, not a word, nothing was exchanged between you until now.

“Y/n.” He called out to you. Walking towards you, which you turned around to face him. “Do you need something, III?” You asked in a tone of displeasure.

“I do,” He stated bluntly. “Look— why have you been avoiding me? Is there something that happened?” He asked.

You looked up at him, confused. Was he playing dumb? “There is. You push me away whenever you come through the door, you seem way more excited on your tours— do you ever look at me that way?” You drawn out your words, staring up at him with a look of desperation. You didn’t want anything from him, but just a spare of sympathy or empathy. Maybe even realization.

III stared at you with a slight glare, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed down to display it all. “I was stressed, that’s all.” He denied and shut it down.

“Stressed?” You repeated to him. Tension of anger and pent up feelings between the both of you growing. “I’ve been neglected by you for weeks! And you want to tell me it’s only stress?”

“I don’t want to do this with you.” He sighed, rubbing his temples to soothe his own emotion. “Do what? A relationship. I’ve been preparing myself for you to just tell me theres someone else or even multiple people. But you can’t talk with me for once?” You argued back with him, earning a look of disappointment from III. “What are you talking about Y/n!” Now you two were arguing.

“There are so many signs, III! We don’t talk, you seem bored with me, I feel discarded! You barley even remembering things I talk to you about!” You yelled back at him, listing things off one by one. “Why must you be so difficult?” He muttered under his breath in a gruff tone.

A frown immediately tightened over your face, there was nothing to sugar coat, and well— neither of you had been. “Numerous people told me we wouldn’t work out in the first place Y/N.” As soon as the words left his mouth he couldn’t find a better way to explain it to you. “And you believed them, didn’t you.”

III didn’t want to admit it, not to your face at least. But he couldn’t stand there and just look at you. He gave in, nodding his head slowly. “I wanted to give you a reason to hate me. I don’t hate you— it’s just.” The silence grew thick as his speech came go a pause. You stood there, waiting, you’ve been listening to him word for word.

“I did see someone. Over tour, you were right.” III sighed, staring down at the ground. He could feel your stare boring right into him.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” You asked him, tone bitter from your throat. “I listened to you, I gave you so much, I gave you plenty! And you— all this because you listened to what everyone else had to say about our relationship?” You muttered, a few cracks interrupting your words, how you spoke.

“Do you feel proud of yourself?” You muttered. “No. I don’t.” He mumbled back to you.

══════════════════════ I apologize if this turned out bad! I need to be up early in the morning and needed to complete this :)

[ficbrish]

WIP Wednesday

[10Jan2024]

This is from a one shot that's part of my Kinktober collection

"Enough"

Early Act III in the Rivington camp

[tw/cw - Cptsd, breakdown, past SA, light spice. Still writing, so this snippet ends mid-angst]

A kiss should be enough. How could it not be when the person at the end of it was? A kiss; the most precious thing, but dangerous. Tempting. Confusing. Messy. Even more so when they were alone, away from the others. Maybe closing the door to the barn had been a bad idea…

“Astarion?” Vistri panted, pulling away.

“Mmmm, yes? What is it?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. Her body trembled against his.

“Um,” the conflict inside her made it hard to articulate, “Should we—?”

“Slow down?”

She grinned awkwardly, more a grimace, “Yeah.”

He sighed, then breathed deep to steady his heart, “Right. Quite Right…”

“Is that…?”

A visible wave of relief washed over him, and he kissed her forehead with all the warmth in his heart, “It’s okay. Thank you! Don’t fret. Thank you.”

Instead of pushing her away, Astarion held her tighter. Vistri didn’t believe it, even as it was happening. She wasn’t someone others held without payment. No matter how many times they repeated this new pattern together, it never fully set in. Surely, it was just a dream. All dreams slipped away, that was just their nature.

She shut her eyes tight, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, dear.”

“…Okay.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Okay.”

The hand reaching for her cheek terrified her in a way that fangs at her throat never had. Reflexively, she planted her face in his palm, nuzzled into it. The hesitation inside her was loud, but it was no match for the tenderness of his touch. Confusing. Messy.

Astarion chuckled, “Just look at how we’ve grown.”

She laughed too because it was something to do.

“Are you all right? You’re not here.”

Vistri felt like a bug with its rock lifted up as he searched her eyes. She couldn’t hide. He was staring right at her.

“Hello!” he said with a little wave.

“Hi.”

“There you are, love. I’ve missed you.”

His expression was kind enough for her to say, “I didn’t mean to go away.”

“It happens,” he shrugged, and stroked her hair.

She couldn’t help her bitterness, “I hate that it happens.”

Anger. That’s what took over when her heart started to beat again. Once Vistri let the world in, she shriveled from so much rage. She hated her brokenness. She hated herself for being fucked up. Hated the reason for it, and the people who let it happen. She looked at Astarion and felt sorrow for his brokenness; grief for the way he was fucked up. She hated the reason for it, and the people who let it happen. Despised the cycle he was caught up in.

Gods, she was so angry.

She groaned and burrowed into his tunic like a creature hiding away from the threats of the world.

“That’s the thing, love, it doesn’t really matter how we feel about it. It’s just there. At least it happens to the both of us. We can face it together, just like any cult.”

He felt the warmth of her chuckle through his shirt.

“Why couldn’t the tadpoles be our only problem?”

Astarion sighed, “To be fair, if it were, we’d probably have been made mind flayers long before finding each other. No cult, no special tadpoles. Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll have to give you that,” she smiled, “It’s all worth it if it led to you.”

“How uncharacteristically genuine of us,” he smirked.

“It’s quite sickening, really.”

He laughed heartily, “Disgusting! Vile!”

“Wretched! Absolutely wretched!”

Laughing was another thing that made everything complicated. Dangerous. Laughter weakened their bodies and knocked them to the ground, leaving them panting in each other’s arms. Vistri’s stomach flipped and surrendered under the weight of him. Bliss between lovers longed to be a feast. Hearts in flight felt entitled to all skies. She wouldn’t stop him this time.

Astarion usually didn’t care about himself or anyone else, but when he looked in her eyes and found the responsibility for two souls, he wanted to rise to the occasion.

“Problem is, I’ve already risen,” he muttered to himself.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Pay me no mind.”

“I’m trying to. It’s very hard, you see.”

“It is,” he smirked.

“Yes, I know. I’m very aware. That’s part of the problem.”

He ground his hips into her, “A rather sizable problem.”

She squirmed and called out his name like it was a prayer, “Astarion…”

Tongue at her neck, he groaned, “How naughty we’re being.”

“Arsehole…” she panted, throwing her head back.

Running their hands along each other was no salve, it only fed the obsessive ache. Like wildfire, it spread around them, threatening everything living.

Astarion regretfully tore himself off her, “No. Yes, You’re right. Quite right.”

The room spun. It spun. It spun. Clinging to each other was the problem, but that’s all they knew to do. Their limitations made them feel base and hollow. Their only comfort was feeling it together, hand in hand.

“Is it bad that we…?” Vistri asked.

“That we what?”

Her tight grip on his fingers felt suddenly breakable. She looked at the floor, like she was trying to count the hay.

“That we get carried away. From time to time.”

“I-…” he thought for a moment, “I don’t think so. Do you think so?”

She was shaking, just a little. Astarion could tell by her hands.

“What if I fuck it all up?”

He saw the look in her eyes that meant tonight was her turn to fall apart. Immediately, he blamed himself, kicking himself for having fucked it all up.

“You won’t, love,” he said in his most reassuring tone. He couldn’t wrap his arms around her just yet, that’s not where she was at the moment. The rain was just beginning to fall; the rest of the storm was on its way.

She shook, “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“All right, but I did.”

“But I wouldn’ve! Because…” she bit her lip, as if that could hold it all back.

“Because what, my dear?”

And finally, it burst, “Because I’m nothing!”

It was going to be one of those ugly nights, the boogeyman under the bed having come to visit. She wouldn’t be in control of how it spilled out of her once it was gone from the realm of performance. Her muscles would twist in unflattering ways. Her tone would grow shrill and base, even haggish. Unaware of herself at every moment, part of her would hoard every detail, preserving collected bits of shame to pelt herself with in the morning. The things she said, and how she said them, would embarrass her to the point of pain and ring in her ears for the next few days. Astarion knew it well, having had many of those same nights himself. He’d be there for Vistri just as she was for him.

“Oh, my love, you’re not nothing.”

“But I am!” she shrieked, “Can’t you see that I am!?”

He shook his head sadly, “I can’t give you that. I don’t see it.”

She wept on her knees, rocking back and forth on her toes. Astarion sat next to her and watched, waiting for it to finish pouring out of her.

“I’m a slut,” she cried, “You don-you don-you don’t even pay sluts! They just let you ha-have it!”

Fuck it! He couldn’t stay away. Something worse than usual sat on her heart and broke it. She couldn’t even breathe; she was choking on her own attempts. Astarion rushed to her, kneeling, and gathered her into his arms. His hands grabbed desperately at her face as he tried to catch her eye.

His voice was trembling, begging, “Come back to me, please. Come back to me.”

Vistri was somewhere else, spiraling fast into the hells. Her eyes didn’t recognize him even as they stared directly into his. She knew someone was touching her. She could see that someone was very upset. She just didn’t know what any of that had to do with her.

“Vistri, please! Darling, please!”

Knees on a stone floor in the black dark. Begging.

“Look at me. Come back.”

Begging for absolution. His voice creeping up her back.

“Look at me!”

“I can’t!” she sobbed, eyes shut tight, “I can’t! Enough! I can’t!”

“All right,” he soothed, completely calm again from the moment she spoke, “All right.”

[climbtopeace]

The Struggle No One Talks About: When Mental Health Feels Like a Losing Battle

Some days, it feels like everything is falling apart. Right now, that’s exactly where I am... Angry, overwhelmed, and lost. It’s like the weight of everything in my life is pressing down on me all at once, and no matter how much I try to push it away, I can't escape it. There’s a constant hum of frustration, confusion, and fear running through my mind, and it’s exhausting. I feel like I’m trapped in a storm that keeps getting worse, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to find shelter.

It’s not even sadness or anger in the way most people might understand it. It’s a numbness, a sense of being utterly disconnected from everything around me. It’s like I’m here, but I’m not really here. I’m going through the motions of life—work, chores, conversations—but none of it feels real. It’s terrifying, this numbness and distortion... It feels like I’m floating through a fog, and I can’t tell if I’m coming or going. It’s a crushing emptiness that drains all the energy from you, leaving you stuck in a kind of purgatory between not feeling much of anything and feeling like you’re falling apart.

When I’m in this space, it’s easy for me to start dissociating. It’s my brain’s way of protecting me, of allowing me to “check out” when the world feels too overwhelming...That's what my health care workers always say. But truthfully it's my own kind of prison, it’s like watching your life through a fogged window, knowing you should be participating but being too exhausted to break through. And in the midst of this dissociation, everything becomes blurry—what’s real, what’s not, what's them, what’s me, and what’s just the chaos in my head. It’s maddening. It makes me angry, not just at the world, but at myself for not being able to pull it together.

There's also the physical exhaustion, too. I’m still recovering from an illness that knocked me down for a while—nothing major, but enough to send my body into a complete shutdown. When you’re already struggling mentally, being physically drained feels like the universe adding insult to the injury. The routine I rely on to manage my mental health? Gone. My medication? Skipped. I know how crucial it is to stick to my meds, but in the mess of everything, I let it slip. I’ve felt the consequences of my actions —both mentally and emotionally—and it’s like a vicious cycle that just spirals further out of control. The frustration is real. I know what I need to do to feel "somewhat" better, but I somehow keep messing it up.

And then, as if the rest weren’t enough, my hallucinations are back. They’ve always been part of my reality, but when they show up, it feels like I’m forced to live this way. One is supposed to be my grounded reality, and the other is a distorted version of what’s around me. It’s exhausting to try to navigate through both, and trying to figure out what’s real, what’s not, who to listen to, and what I should do about it. And of course, it makes me frustrated...and overwhelmed... I hate that this is my life—that my mind is something I can’t always trust. It’s a battle I didn’t ask for, but it’s the one I’m fighting every single day.

I guess the part that hurts the most, though, is that no one really understands.. Sure they can listen, but in my experience the mental health professionals just want you to distract yourself. They offer solutions that feel empty, like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound. And.. Hey!.. Maybe that works for some people, maybe it helps to fill the silence, and the emptiness... But when you’re stuck in this kind of place that I'm in and you’re so damn tired of distracting yourself from what’s really going on, it’s NOT enough. When you can’t even escape your own mind, the last thing you want to hear is "just try this," or "you’ll be fine in time." It’s not that simple. And that kind of “advice” just makes it feel worse. When your reality is distorted, and your brain isn’t even on your side, it’s scary. It’s so lonely, and you want out. You don’t just want to get through the day. You want the storm to stop. You want to breathe again. But no one is really offering a way out. They just want you to hold on, through distractions... As if that’s enough.

Right now, I’m taking things day by day. I’m trying to get back on my meds, and trying to get my life back in order, but it’s hard to believe that it will get better soon. Healing doesn’t work on a schedule, and there’s always this nagging fear that maybe I won’t get better, that this is as good as it gets. But I’m trying. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s okay not to have all the answers right now. It’s okay to be angry, to be scared, and to feel lost. But it doesn’t mean I have to stay here forever... Right? I know some days are harder than others, and it’s a constant struggle, but I don’t have to have it all figured out today, and I'm trying to be okay with that.

So, if you’re reading this and you’re struggling too, know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, to feel like everything is falling apart. I’m right here with you in the mess, and we can get through this together.

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

Steve looked at his watch and frowned as he saw the time. Looking over at Danny’s office he saw that his husband was still there. Frowning a bit more he walked over, knocked, and tapped on his watch when he stepped inside, “You’re cutting it close, aren’t you?” 

“I switched days with Rachel, so I got nowhere to be urgently. I am going to stop by the store on the way home, but I’m going to wait for traffic to not be hell.”

Even though his face spelled his confusion out well, he still asked, “What?” 

“I know you have a set menu for tonight but I’ve been craving bruschetta. We’re only missing basil and parm I think.”

“Not that. You switched days with Rachel?”

“I did, yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“You can’t get out of your meetings. I know it bothers you if I go on my own because Kevin will be there. So today, Rachel will go to the PTA meeting and text me anything important. After a quick trip to the store, I’ll head home and start on dinner for us.”

“...you really did this? For me? Because I was jealous?”  

Danny nodded, finally standing from his chair to stand directly in front of Steve and placed his hands on his husband’s chest, “Look. If this had happened when I first got to the island. And we’d been younger and more hot headed, and the move and divorce were still so fresh and I carried a lot more anger...I would have fought back. Gotten defensive. Would have made a whole stink about you not owning me or being able to tell me who I could or couldn’t be around. But we didn’t meet just yesterday, babe. We’ve been through so fucking much. I love you. And I respect you. As my husband. As our child’s co-parent. So if it bother you how ‘friendly’ someone is...then I’ll do what’s only logical. And switch days with Rachel until you’re free to go to those PTA meetings with me.” 

Strong emotions swirled inside of him, it took him a moment to find his words. Finally, he managed to say,” Thank you.” 

“I love you, remember that.” 

Love and respected, and it still amazed him. He rests his forehead against Danny’s for a moment in gratitude, before tilting slightly so he could kiss him comfortably.

So, I have a personal love for jealous and possessive Steve. Him unleashing his inner animal on Danny is hot and I eat it up! But I can’t not reason out where the jealousy and possessiveness comes from. Which is insecurity that was never properly taken seriously, mixed with fears of abandonment, being left behind, not being important enough. 

So this scenario and dialogue between them popped into my mind. Not enough for a full story, so it’s just a ficlet moment I wanted to put out there. 

A new single dad pops up around the parent groups. Being a single dad, he joins Danny and Luke as they welcome him to the island and into their impromptu dad’s club that sorta formed, but the guy began to crush on Danny. First subtly but then not so subtly and Steve didn’t like it. But this is later on, so they’re more than well established, married, living together, things are stable. But he still feels as jealous as he would when he was 32. He doesn’t want to be a cliche, thankfully he and Danny are breaking a lot of bad cycles so he communicates. 

And Danny listens. 

[feathered-serpents]

Since starting your 'Imagining Egypt' project, I was wondering if you could give us more insight into the whole Sindri-Atreus-Angrboda situation?

Do we get to visit Sindri in Egypt? Is sindri still mad at Atreus? Does Sindri have a different relationship with Angrboda compared to Atreus?

So. There are still quite a few wrinkles I haven’t ironed out in this project yet and Sindri is unfortunately one of those wrinkles. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about his involvement at all, it just means I don’t have a 100% solid idea of what that involvement looks like just yet

I will say this: I know for certain Sindri shows up, I know he is directly involved in Atreus’ resurrection, and I know there would be a post-game quest revolving around him that would end with repairing Brok’s soul. I know these things happen, I just don’t have all the how’s and why’s yet

But to answer your questions: Sindri is still angry with Atreus, angry with everyone involved in Brok’s death. However, it’s a hollow anger, one that even Sindri himself knows is unfair, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He is trapped in his own grief, an endless cycle of self-loathing soothed only by projecting that loathing onto people he once loved, which only fuels the self-loathing more. And on and on and on it goes

He is however devastated by the news of Atreus’ death, and he fights hard with Kratos and Angrboda to bring him back. Atreus’ resurrection is another wrinkle I haven’t quite ironed out in terms of hows and whys. At first I thought Osiris (who if you’re just tuning in is the murderer) destroyed Atreus’ heart to ensure he couldn’t be brought back and Sindri made another. Now however, I like the idea that Osiris destroyed Atreus’ soul. Tore it into pieces and threw the pieces into the river of Duat. It’s a better parallel to the Osiris/Set myth that I’m going for here, and there’s something very poetic about Sindri helping to find and repair Atreus’ soul pieces when he couldn’t do that for Brok. A sort of redemption in his mind, he couldn’t save his brother, he can save Atreus

And when it comes to Sindri and Angrboda’s relationship, I again don’t have specifics, but I do have a good starting point: Sindri views Atreus as having taken his world from him, while Angrboda thinks Atreus gave her the world. This is a fun point of contention for them but beyond that, Sindri is more or less where Angrboda was in Ironwood. He’s without his family, totally alone, and he doesn’t even have a “role” to preform like Angrboda did. He’s completely unguided, and believes his life long over

Angrboda’s character arc in this game would be about rebuilding when all is lost and continuing to live on even when it seems like your “role” has ended. I think it would be a satisfying conclusion to that arc if she inspires someone to do the same. Angrboda would help Sindri realize that this cycle he’s trapped himself in doesn’t have to be the end. There is no end while he’s still here. He can choose to make a new ending, or to start over from the beginning

In return, Sindri would teach her that she doesn’t NEED Atreus to be whole or happy. She can want him, but she doesn’t need him. If they can’t bring him back, Sindri would teach Angrboda that she would survive. Something he teaches her as he himself comes out of his own grief

I’m sorry i don’t have more for you right now!! I’ve been very caught up on imagining the Egyptian gods and their various personalities and dynamics to think too much about Sindri’s involvement but rest assured I have NOT forgotten! He does have a role to play and a relationship to explore with both Atreus and Angrboda!

Thank you so much for this question btw I love answering questions about this AU as it’s the easiest way to get ideas out between drawings!!

[giggly-argent]

(Valentine's Day)- Operation Amity

This was a long overdue gift for a friend on dA!

Both Noel and Aries were sent out on an open ended mission, where they (begrudgingly) get a chance to learn more about each other~

"At 8 o’clock tonight, make your way to Lazuli Park. Locate the man wearing white by the lake."

Noel’s gaze shifted to his phone, then back up to the man by the lake… Then back to his phone again. This continued for a few more cycles until he finally accepted the truth: his mysterious target was, in fact, his annoying rival Aries.

The taller man hadn’t noticed Noel behind him yet. He was perched on a large blanket under a tree, watching the moonlight dance along the ripples of Lake Lazuli. The vexed glare burning into his skull didn’t register; instead, the sound of leaves crunching behind him grabbed his attention.

“Huh? What are you doing here?” Aries tilted his head, watching as Noel trudged up to the lake’s edge, staring at his phone once more for good measure.

“...Your captain-” The smaller male said with audible ire before clearing his throat, evening his tone. “Ugh. Captain Rubeda sent me here.”

“You too, huh?” Aries let out a weak laugh to distract from his faint grimace. He had also received instructions, though his were just to wait by the lake for a “familiar informant”. “Zidenna’s little pranks must be rubbing off on that man.”

“Yeah.” Noel huffed, finally stuffing his phone back into his pocket. There was an awkward silence between the two, which felt more suffocating to Aries. As soon as Noel turned to leave, the other man spoke up.

“W-Wait! It wouldn’t hurt you to stick around a little longer, would it? I mean, it’d be a waste of time if you came aaall the way out here just to go right back home-”

Aries wanted to say more, but Noel’s scowl silenced him. Even if he was powerless and on the smaller side, the brat could be quite scary in certain conditions. Surprisingly, the student rolled his eyes and plopped down on the other side of the blanket, kicking off another round of silence. Aries just couldn’t help how anxious the quiet air made him.

“You didn’t dress up much.”

“It was supposed to be a mission, not a date.”

After another quick exchange, it was back to tense nothingness. So far, the two were getting along as well as they usually do. Aries gave up on conversing, choosing to retwist a small braid in his hair. That kept his focus for a few seconds until he briefly noticed a set of purple eyes stealing glances at him.

“Is there something on me?” Noel twitches and straightens his back, surprised that the other man noticed his staring so fast.

“Uhhh…Your clothes. They’re strange.” Noel’s mouth moved faster than his brain, but he clocked the flash of quiet anger in his coworker’s eyes even faster. The two had been less than friendly to each other over the years, but this was the first time Aries seemed genuinely off-put by Noel’s words.

“Wait wait, not like BAD strange, but uhh…” He stammers out in a higher pitch, his eyes wide. He twirled his hands around in the air as if he were trying to use his nonexistent magic to conjure up the right words. “... I’ve seen that style before somewhere, I just can’t really remember..?”

As quick as it came, the hint of irritation washed away from Aries, and the slight tense smile is back on his face. He was wearing an outfit separate from regular Asterian fashion: a white, almost toga-styled dress cloaked his torso, with wispy strips of the fabric attached to his golden bracelets that almost resembled wings when he raised his arms. Various jewels, gold and silver in color, decorated both his dress and his hair, and the jewelry he wore appeared to be more intricate than usual. It was clear that he expected to do some seducing during this “mission” that his captain assigned to him.

“Ahh, you had me worried there,” With a weary laugh, Aries wraps an arm around Noel in a reassuring half hug. Remarkably, Noel leaned into it, more relieved that he’d fixed his mess that quickly. As always though, luck never stayed on his side for too long.

“Shitshitshit-” Noel’s brain went on red alert, and it wasn’t just from being hugged by the pretty boy. As Aries moved to let him go, his hand brushed by Noel’s sleeved arm, feeling something hard and metallic along the way. If Aries didn’t freeze up, Noel never would’ve worried about it. Right as the younger angel went to ask, Noel jumped to his feet and straightened his jacket.

“Well this was fun, but I really gotta g-”

“Hold on~!” Aries made a quick grab at the smaller male, tugging him into his lap by the edge of his jacket. He seemed to be right back in his usual teasing mood. If only the night had stayed awkward and tense...

“HEY! What the fu-aahehehe?! Ah, n-NOHOHO!!” Noel tried to yell, but all that came out was a choked yelp accompanied by startled giggles. In proper Aries fashion, the taller male’s hands wormed under Noel’s jacket and shirt, grazing his nails over his bare stomach with featherlight touches.

“Soooo~ What was that thing, hm?” The teasy bastard whispered right into Noel’s slowly reddening ear. The student wished he could punch the smug smirk right off of Aries’s face, but that would most likely earn him an even harsher tickling. That, and he didn’t have the best coordination at the moment. He tried to wiggle his way off of the other man’s lap, but Aries smoothly roped him back in before continuing his gentle attack.

“Come on, Noey! I’m curious~” Aries had a good opportunity to go for another feel of the object himself, but it felt much better to tickle a confession out of the boy himself.

“Fffuahahah-! Fuck offahahaha!!!” He sputtered out, slightly arching his back as the wiggling fingers changed direction, now curling over his sides. Aries clicked his tongue, digging in a bit deeper to draw more swearing and squeals from his rival. He clawed up and down the flustered student’s soft sides, only stopping when he needed to pull him back into his lap. The little breaks only lasted a fraction of a second- Noel was rather easy to wrangle to him.

“Hmm… If you tell me, I’ll let you in on a secret of my own!” The pretty boy hummed, giving a charming smile despite Noel being turned away from him.

“I-aHAHAHA-! I alrehehehady know ehenough about you!!” Noel gasps out, a bit of sass mixed with his tone. It was true- Aries was a very public figure, and a quick search could bring up a sizable amount of info on him. Despite that, the taller male was persistent. He gave Noel’s sides a brief tase- earning his loudest yelp yet- before spidering over them again.

“That’s what you think…” he let out a playfully dark chuckle as his fingers worked their magic. Noel was a total mess in his lap. His back was pressed against Aries’s chest, and his head tossed back in full, helpless laughter while his legs weakly kicked out in front of him. Even his shoving couldn’t dislodge Aries’s hands from his sides. If he tried any harder, he was sure the man would weave a spell to keep him still anyway.

“OKAY OKAYHEHEHEHEE! I’ll t-tell yohohou!!” He cried out through his breathy giggles, shaking his head in surrender. On cue, the angel stopped tickling him, but his hands stayed holding the boy by his hips in case he didn’t hold up his end of the deal. Noel slumped back against Aries, reaching up to cover his blushing face while he caught his breath. Admittedly it felt quite nice resting in the man’s lap like this. If only the threat of more tickles wasn’t looming over him. He closed his eyes, trying to put together the most believable lie of his life.

“...It’s an inhibitor bracelet.” Noel mumbles, wringing at his sleeve cuff almost hard enough to tear it. “I never got to train my magic, so my powers are kinda weak n’ out of control. The inhibitor keeps me from, like… Accidentally zapping myself, or something worse.” His words flowed out naturally as if he’d witnessed these supposed power failures firsthand.

“I’ve always slacked on my training, but once I pull it together I won’t have to wear this thing anymore!”

It contained enough fragments of the truth to remain somewhat believable, but Noel was still nervous. Aries was the best interrogator in the kingdom, and he’d even heard hushed rumors that the man had a rare, formidable spell to force the truth out of more resilient targets. His own heartbeat drowned out the sound of the lake’s breeze, and he waited with bated breath for Aries to say anything.

“Mmhm…Okay!” Aries nodded, holding back a giggle when he felt Noel let out a huge sigh of relief. He knew a good chunk of it was bullshit, but he didn’t want to press the boy any further. He smiled warmly, letting go of Noel’s hips and patting his head before moving him off of his lap. The angel then stood up and stretched, yawning quietly.

“Well, that’s pretty boring~” He chuckles before abruptly turning to walk off. Noel blinked in dazed confusion, watching his rival’s robe flow in the breeze before his flustered brain clicked back on.

“GET BACK HERE!” the demon sprang to his feet, snatching up one of Aries’ braids to keep him still.

“Wah! What the hell?!” The tender-headed angel whined, wincing as he looked back at Noel with a pout.

“Your turn, dummy!” Noel barked, glaring up at him. “What’s your secret?” Noel truthfully couldn’t care less about the secret, but he couldn’t let Aries get away with tickling him like that without getting something from it. He let go of the taller man’s hair, watching as Aries crossed his arms.

“Oh, right…” he mumbled, his golden eyes gazing up to the stars, almost counting on them to write an answer out for him. After a bit of space searching, he looked back down at Noel with a bright grin.

“My secret… Is that I think you’re sorta cute!”

Aries laughed sweetly at Noel’s rosy face before strolling off again. Instead of grabbing him again, Noel followed closely behind, his familiar glare boring into the back of his rival’s head.

“Nah, try again.” Noel huffed, now more persistent than ever.

“Well that’s not fair~ Your secret was boring, so I made sure mine was too!” Aries spoke with a childish tone, going from a leisurely stroll to a brisk walk, then a light jog as the angry little menace chased him all the way back to the castle.

In the end, Captain Rubeda’s ‘Operation Amity” was a total failure, only giving the two more reasons to be suspicious of each other. Aries still had so many more questions about the inhibitor, and Noel… Well, Aries didn’t really find him cute, did he..?

[stillalive19567]

Beneath The Surface | JenLisa | GxG | Chapter 7

A few days pass by like this, the tension between Rosé and me hanging in the air like a thick fog. I focus on gathering intel and watching for any suspicious behavior at the academy, but it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack. Nothing seems out of the ordinary—no whispers, no signs of trouble. Just the same mundane routine.

But then, as I walk down the hallway, I see it again. Rosé, leaning against the same tree, cigarette in hand, the smoke curling around her like a veil. My stomach sinks, and anger surges within me.

I turn on my heel and walk away, the familiar feeling of helplessness washing over me. I can’t do this anymore. Each sight of her smoking feels like a dagger to my heart, tearing open old wounds I’ve tried so hard to heal. I want to confront her, to yell, to make her understand the risks, but I’m too exhausted—exhausted from fighting, from worrying, from feeling like I’m losing control over the one person I care about the most.

I keep my head down as I navigate the hallways, my thoughts spiraling. She promised me. She said she wouldn’t smoke again, yet here she is, back to square one. Maybe she doesn’t realize how much this affects me. Or maybe she doesn’t care.

I reach my classroom and sit in the back, trying to focus on the lecture, but my mind drifts. I replay the scene over and over in my head, wishing I could just make her see. I know I’m being overprotective, but after everything we’ve been through, how can I not be?

The bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. As students flood the hallways, I linger, hoping for a moment of clarity. But all I can think about is Rosé—her laughter, her smile, the way she used to light up every room. Now, it feels like I’m watching her slip away, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I give up on confronting Rosé. I’m tired of the endless cycle of worry and disappointment. I just want some peace, so I decide to bury myself in work instead.

As I’m at my locker, lost in my thoughts, I see So Hee approach me. She smirks, her confidence radiating off her like a sickening aura. “Look, the psycho’s here,” she sneers, her voice dripping with disdain. “The one who thinks she’s better than everyone.”

I sigh, turning to walk away, unwilling to engage with her. But she steps in front of me, blocking my path.

I can see Lisa approaching us from the corner of my eye. “So Hee, can you stop?” she says, her tone firm, but I raise a hand, motioning for her to stay silent. This isn’t her fight.

I take a breath and fix my gaze on So Hee, my expression hardening. “Just for the record,” I say coolly, “I don’t think I’m better than everyone. Just that I’m better than you.”

Her expression falters for a moment, and I relish the flicker of surprise on her face. It’s satisfying to see her momentarily speechless, the smirk wiped off her face.

But the satisfaction is short-lived as she quickly regains her composure, her eyes narrowing. “You think that little jab will make me back off? You’re just a scared little girl hiding behind a facade.”

I scoff, crossing my arms. “What’s there to be scared of? You? You don’t intimidate me.”

The tension between us thickens, and I can feel the heat rising around us as other students stop to watch the confrontation unfold. I can sense Lisa's discomfort beside me, but I refuse to let her take the spotlight. This is between me and So Hee.

“So, what? You think your little threats can scare me away? You’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a sister.” Her words strike a nerve, and for a moment, I feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

But I push it down. I’m not going to let her get to me. “I know exactly who I am,” I retort. “And it’s way more than you’ll ever be.”

I turn to walk away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing me upset. But as I do, I hear her voice again, taunting. “Run away, Jennie. Just like you always do.”

I pause for a moment, glancing back at her, my fists clenching at my sides. But I refuse to give her the reaction she’s looking for. Instead, I walk away, focusing on the sound of my own footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I  walk outside, the cool air hitting my face like a splash of cold water. I pull out my phone and dial Ye-Jin sunbae’s number, feeling a mix of anxiety and urgency.

When she picks up, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “I think I need a therapist,” I say, my words coming out in a rush. “No, not just a therapist—a psychiatrist. I don’t know what’s happening to me, sunbae.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end, and I can almost hear her processing my words. “What do you mean, Jennie? Are you okay?”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I’m not okay. I feel… lost. I’m constantly on edge, and I don’t know how to handle everything. My sister… she’s been smoking again, and I just feel like I’m losing control.”

Ye-Jin’s voice softens. “Have you talked to her about it?”

I let out a shaky breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’ve tried, but it feels like she just doesn’t understand. I’m scared for her. I don’t want to end up like… like our dad.”

“Jennie,” she says gently, “you need to take care of yourself too. It’s okay to seek help. It doesn’t make you weak.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I know. It’s just hard to admit that I need it. I’ve always been the one trying to keep everything together.”

“Start with a therapist, Jennie,” she suggests softly. “If that doesn’t work, then we can look for a psychiatrist for you. Just take it one step at a time.”

I nod, feeling a weight lift slightly from my shoulders. The idea of talking to someone feels less daunting now, knowing that I have support.

“Okay, I’ll start with a therapist,” I agree, my voice steadier. “Thank you, Ye-Jin.”

“Anytime,” she replies. “Just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you.”

Rosé approaches me with a playful grin. “Jennie,” she says, her tone teasing. “Oh, I like calling you Jennie.”

I fake a smile, trying to mask the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Don’t get used to it,” I reply coolly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she shrugs, not taking my words seriously.

I can't do anything. I just have to support her, not control her. Yeah, that's it. I just need to watch and do nothing, right? It feels wrong, but maybe that's the only way. I keep telling myself that I can’t step in, that it's her life to live. But watching her make these choices, knowing the potential consequences, tears me apart inside.

As I look at Rosé, I wonder if this is what it means to be a good sister. To stand by while she risks her health and happiness? It’s frustrating and painful, and I hate that I feel so powerless.

“By the way, I stopped smoking, just like you said earlier,” Rosé says, her voice cheerful, but it feels like a knife twisting in my gut. My fists clench involuntarily; I know it’s a lie. I saw her smoking this afternoon, and it’s eating me alive. But what can I do?

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady, even though it feels like my heart is crumbling. “Smoke if you want to.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes lighting up with surprise.

“I can’t stop you now, can I?” I reply, forcing a tight smile. “It’s your life. Do whatever you want.”

She hugs me tightly, and in that moment, it feels like I’m suffocating. The weight of my own helplessness presses down on me. But I remind myself that this is what I need to do for her happiness. Support her and not control her. That’s what I keep telling myself, right?

As I stand there, arms wrapped around her, I feel the tears sting at the corners of my eyes. I want to protect her, but instead, I’m standing by as she makes choices that could lead to her downfall. Is this really what being supportive means? I don’t know anymore.

My phone buzzes, and I see it’s Ye-jin sunbae. I pick up, and she says, “Found a therapist. She asked you to come at this address at 5 P.M.”

“Alright, thanks, sunbae,” I reply, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Rosé looks up at me, her curiosity piqued. “What was that?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, my heart racing. I can’t let her know about the therapy session. Not yet. I need to figure out my own feelings before I can share anything with her.

Rosé seems to sense my tension but doesn’t press further. Instead, she leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay, unnie,” she murmurs.

I swallow hard, fighting against the mixed emotions swirling inside me. I want to be okay, but right now, it feels like I’m on the edge, ready to fall.

I walk back to the dorm, the weight of my thoughts still hanging heavy in the air. Once inside, I force myself to focus on my work, drowning out the noise of everything else. I flip through pages and type notes, trying to immerse myself in the cases at hand.

Eventually, I hear the door creak open, and I look up to see Rosé entering with Lisa and the girl she's dating. I can’t remember her name, but the sight of them together tugs at my insides. I quickly return to my work, trying to ignore the unease simmering beneath the surface.

Rosé’s demeanor shifts the moment she spots me at the desk. She stiffens, a flicker of concern crossing her face. She knows better than to tell anyone I’m a detective; to them, I’m just a regular student. It’s a secret I’ve kept close, a barrier between my professional life and the chaos of my personal life.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asks, her tone curious as she glances at my closed laptop.

I quickly shove the files out of sight, forcing myself to smile. “Nothing,” I reply, my voice even but laced with an edge of annoyance.

Rosé looks between me and Lisa, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she says nothing. The air is thick with unspoken words, and I can feel the tension crawling up my spine. It’s almost suffocating.

Lisa leans closer, peering at my now-closed laptop. “Come on, you can’t be doing nothing,” she insists, a playful smirk on her face.

“Really, I’m just... studying,” I say, my tone clipped, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Studying? At this hour?” the girl chimes in, laughter in her voice.

I shrug, forcing another smile. “Just trying to keep up.”

Rosé stays silent, but I can feel her gaze on me, assessing. It’s a reminder that I’m trapped in this duality of who I am—just a student on the surface, but so much more underneath. The frustration bubbles back to the surface, but I bite it back. I can’t let them see how much it bothers me.

I watch as they settle onto Rosé’s bed, the easy banter flowing between them, laughter filling the room. I feel like an outsider looking in, the warmth of their camaraderie only serving to highlight my isolation. It’s almost time for my appointment, and I need to get away before I lose my nerve.

I push myself off the chair and head toward the door, the sound of their conversation fading into the background.

“Where are you going?” Rosé asks, her voice breaking through the haze of my thoughts.

“Going to meet a friend,” I reply, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Ye-jin unnie?” she probes, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read my intentions.

“Yeah. Her,” I lie, forcing a smile that feels like a mask. I can’t let her see the turmoil inside me, not when I’m trying so hard to keep it all together.

“Okay... just be careful,” she says, and I catch a hint of concern in her voice.

I nod, opening the door. “I will.”

As I step out into the hallway, I take a deep breath, allowing the cool air to wash over me. I need this appointment. I need someone to help me untangle the mess of emotions swirling inside me—fear, anger, helplessness.

I make my way down the corridor, the echoes of their laughter fading as I walk. I can’t shake the feeling of guilt that creeps in. I should be there for Rosé, supporting her.

[secretblogosphere]

My god it’s been a long time since I was here. I probably should have utilized this space a lot more lately but somehow it didn’t occur to me until the other night. But here I am. Better late than never?

As usual, I just need to vent. My life is fucking falling apart and I’m about to scream.

For one, I’m stuck in a job that’s making me miserable. I came here because I needed to get out of my last place and, while it is better, it’s still sucking the soul out of me. And despite my hourly being much higher I got fucked over with bonuses so I’m actually making basically the same as before. The worst part is it’s about to get worse because one of my coworkers is going on maternity leave, one is retiring, and another leaves in August. Which means I’m going to be stuck at a property I can’t stand being at.

Two, I’m drowning in debt. And it’s not getting better. I was expecting more income so I moved into a more expensive apartment than I was in. But between my husband fucking up last year, my taxes being so expensive I can’t even pay them, and our general finances out of control it’s just getting worse and worse. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of it.

Three, my health is not going well. It’s nothing serious but frustrating enough that I just never feel good. I’ve been having digestive issues, over production of mucus, headaches, tonsil stones, and my hormone shit. I know eating better and exercising would help but I barely have the energy to do basic tasks to keep functioning much less anything like cooking or going to the gym. And I know stress is making it worse but I can’t get rid of that because 90% of what’s stressing me is external and out of my control.

Four, I’m so fucking lonely it hurts. While I know cutting the toxic people out of my life was for the best, I have no idea how to make new friends to replace them. And I legit have two people in my life, one of whom is borderline toxic. So I spend all my time in my house alone. I don’t have anyone other than people on the internet to commiserate with. And while all you guys are lovely, it’s not the same as going to lunch with someone and just enjoying their company.

Five, my marriage is on the verge of collapse. We fight all the time, don’t enjoy each other’s presence, and the happiness we once had has basically disappeared. And I can’t fix it. I’ve done everything I can think of but it just gets worse and worse. Plus, he seems totally unwilling to work with me on it. His opinions of me are so negative that he can’t see past them. And most of them are built on this false narrative he’s created of who I am in his head. Still, I can’t seem to get myself to let go. Even if it’s for the best, which I don’t even know is true, I just can’t. I still love him but am not even sure why some days.

And then, just to add some colorful flair to it all, my aunt was just admitted to the ICU. She was having trouble breathing and went to the ER last night. Apparently it’s something with her heart valve. She’s only 79. My grandma, her mom, lived into her mid 90s. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’ve had so much loss and I can’t handle any more.

I feel guilty that I’m angry this is happening. I know it’s so much worse for my cousin because that’s her mom, but I just can’t handle anything else. I’m at my breaking point. How am I supposed to keep functioning when I hit blow after blow after blow? It feels like my world is collapsing. I’m legit disassociating constantly. My feelings keep cycling through anger, fear, and bone crushing sadness. It’s too fucking much. I can’t do this.

Even with my bipolar meds, it’s hard for them to cut through all this pain. I shudder to think how much worse it would be if I didn’t have these meds. I have no support and no options. I’m stuck. What do I even do? How can I just keep going about my life? I won’t even say going about it like normal because I’m not even sure what that looks like anymore. I’ve lost myself. I’m trying so hard to keep as positive of an attitude as I can but it feels impossible. I just want to be happy. I want the life I imagined for myself. It’s not even anything crazy, just normal shit that people want.

Anyways. I just needed to let all my feeling out somewhere that’s safe. I know I just have to take it one day at a time, one minute at a time really. Whatever will be will be. I can’t change life happening. I just wish I knew how to find a pocket of happiness in all this misery.