#behold my boyfriend's work and despair

[suzukiblu]

Please, cuddling, and TimKon?

. . . I am sorry but also I am NOT sorry for what I have done with this reply, but hey, why don't we all enjoy this one being the only prompt fill from this meme that got a read-more cut??

“Please,” Kon tries, trying not to look–he doesn’t know, weird and needy and like an embarrassment, or whatever. It feels like such a stupid thing to ask for. He knows Tim’s not really a hugger or a touchy-feely guy or whatever and that he likes having his own space and basically always hops out of bed right after sex to go write down all the shit his post-nut clarity made him think of, and the idea of, like, just staying still and actually cuddling or whatever is probably basically literal torture to him, assuming it’s ever even occurred to him at all, just . . . 

Just he’d kind of like to sometimes, maybe? Like–not regularly or whatever, he’s not trying to drive Tim nuts or cut into either his worktime or downtime here, just . . .

Just he’d like to do it sometimes, that’s all. 

Tim’s not the tactile type. Tim isn’t even the eye contact type, unless he’s lying to somebody or at work or just faking it for Robin-mode or whatever. Kon gets that. He’s been, like–careful about that. Not trying to take up too much space or ask for too much attention or mind when Tim doesn’t even look up at him when he– 

He’s been careful about it. 

But he is . . . well. The tactile type. Like . . . kind of, anyway. 

Like–it’s kinda unavoidable, honestly. 

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him in just enough bemusement to make him feel even more self-conscious about bringing this shit up to begin with, and Kon tries to keep his expression casual and noncommittal and–and just normal about this. Because he is totally normal about this. He is so normal about this. He is.

He’s also normal about the fact that when he asked Tim if he could talk to him about something, Tim didn’t even put down his tablet. Didn’t even put it to sleep, or actually even look up from it until . . . 

Kon’s normal about that. About all of this. 

(and he definitely never feels kind of weird or a little bit abandoned because Tim can’t EVER just bring his stupid laptop back to bed or at least work on whatever he’s thinking about IN the bedroom at the untouched desk he's got set up in there or even just, like . . . stick around and hang out on the couch with him, or anything like that. he definitely totally ENTIRELY doesn’t ever just feel like a casual fuckbuddy or an easy hookup or a gala-night accessory or just the most immediately convenient option and not actually–not actually any kind of a–not actually something that– 

he doesn’t. 

definitely.)

“Uh,” Kon says, and backpedals awkwardly, because clearly this conversation is not going the way he’d wanted it to and Tim just looks so surprised by it all, like–like it never even occurred to him or something, that maybe . . . that maybe Kon would want anything like that, or like he literally just hasn’t noticed how hard Kon’s been trying to be normal about it, or . . . 

It doesn’t feel very good, the idea he’s been trying so hard to respect Tim’s space and preferences and comfort levels and Tim hasn’t even noticed that he was doing anything at all. 

Especially because Tim usually notices just about everything. 

Maybe Tim’s just never thinking about it. Maybe he gets out of bed so quick because he’s spent the whole time in it thinking about other shit and just putting up with–just– 

“Kon,” Tim says, his voice going a little tight, and Kon just tries not to wince. He didn’t mention any of the complicated stuff he’s been trying not to feel, he just asked if Tim could–if Tim would– 

He didn’t even mention any of the complicated stuff, so it’s, like–not a great sign that Tim’s looking at him like that right now, like he’s said something really serious or upsetting or . . . 

He really shouldn’t have said anything, yeah. 

“Sorry,” he tries stiffly, glancing away and wrapping his hand around his own wrist and digging his fingers into the inside of it. It’s–tactile. Just . . . something tactile. “I know you don’t–sorry. Uh. Just forget it.” 

“Fuck,” Tim mutters for some reason, and Kon feels like such an idiot for saying anything at all, and a worse one for apparently doing it in a way that’s got Tim making that face at him. That face is Robin’s “my utility belt is empty, comms are fried, and the mission just went to shit” face. 

He really fucked this up. It was fine. Everything was fine, and now he’s wrecked it and Tim’s about to say it’s not even that serious, it’s not like it’s even–not like they’re even–and that Kon’s clearly gotten the wrong idea and they should just–just– 

“How long have you felt this way?” Tim asks very, very carefully, like the question’s something fragile, and Kon thinks from literally the first fucking time you left me alone in bed all night so you could go recalibrate some stupid useless specialty sensor that wasn’t even part of your primary gear, like, a WEEK into us sleeping together and says, “I dunno. It’s not–I told you. Forget it. It’s not a big deal.” 

He’s being weird about this. He’s being an asshole about this, actually, because being prepared for literally every single possible contingency ever is the Bats’ whole thing and he got into this knowing Tim wasn’t the touchy-feely type or all that expressive and emotive about–about his feelings, or whatever, and–and it’s not like he even–not like he– 

(he just wants a fucking HUG he didn't have to FUCK him for every now and then, or for Tim to at least exist in the same space as him for longer than the time it takes for the next email from Oracle to come in or next alert from Batman to go off or next self-assigned project to finish processing or–

but that’s not something Tim does, and Kon knew that going in, so–so it’s his own stupid fault if he feels SMALL sometimes, when . . . when there’s always something else, always another problem to solve or place to be or thing to think about, always . . . always something more important than just . . . staying, just for a little bit, and just BEING with–with him. just him. not the team, or either of their families, or . . .)

He knew all this going in, Kon reminds himself. He knew it. If he were this bad at being with literally anyone else, he’d just–he’d just– 

But something about it being Tim means he just . . . can’t. 

Tim’s jaw tightens, and he finally sets down his stupid tablet. 

Only now, though, Kon thinks bitterly, and digs his fingers a little deeper into the inside of his wrist. 

“Kon,” Tim says again, says too carefully again. Like something’s fragile, again. “I–” 

“I said forget it, for fuck’s sake!” Kon snaps too hotly, and maybe hates himself for both doing it and for the stricken look that doing it puts on Tim’s face, and also maybe cheats a bit by super-speeding straight out the balcony door into the night air and not taking his cell or his communicator with him. Or–definitely does, in fact. Definitely that’s cheating. He knows it is. 

He just really can’t stand to hear Tim tell him how he’s fucked up this time right now, though. He just–he tried so fucking hard not to fuck up this time. 

He really, really tried. 

He should’ve known it wouldn’t work, but . . . but he really did try.

[bonobonoyaatheart]

Ice cream- Kim Taehyung

Word count: 648

Summary: The load of work was getting heavier each day. But icecream with Tae is the perfect escape, isn't it?

Pairing: Non idol Taehyung x gn Reader

Genre: Fluff

You had been enduring an overwhelming workload that seemed to multiply each passing day. Your boss, a formidable lady, had an uncanny ability to yell and push you beyond your limits. Today was no exception as she unleashed her frustration, publicly berating you in front of your colleagues.

Dejected and emotionally drained, you trudged your way home, carrying the weight of the day on your shoulders. The walls of your apartment felt suffocating, the air heavy with the echoes of your boss's tirade. Seeking solace, you reached for your phone, and a glimmer of hope appeared as a message from Taehyung, your goofy and sweet boyfriend, popped up on the screen.

"Hey, love. Tough day?" his message read.

You spilled your frustrations onto the digital canvas, your fingers typing with a mix of exhaustion and despair. Taehyung, always the compassionate listener, absorbed your words and responded with the love he always had for you.

"I'm here for you, sweetheart. Your hard work doesn't go unnoticed. You're strong and capable. How about we escape this madness? Meet me at our favorite ice cream parlor. I'll have a tub of your favorite flavor ready," he suggested.

The idea of indulging in a sweet treat and finding comfort in Taehyung's arms ignited a flicker of excitement within you. It was the perfect remedy to alleviate the pressures of work and the relentless demands of your boss.

A smile blossomed on your face as you agreed, your spirits lifting at the prospect of a sweet escape. You hurriedly made your way to the cozy ice cream parlor, anticipation dancing in your steps. Upon entering, the familiar scent of freshly made waffle cones enveloped you, stirring memories of happier times.

Taehyung stood there, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he held a giant sundae brimming with all your favorite flavors and toppings. "Behold, the stress-busting sundae!" he exclaimed with a flourish, his excitement infectious.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound spilling out like a release of pent-up tension. Taking a seat, you scooped up a spoonful of the creamy delight, the taste exploding on your tongue. As you savored the ice cream, Taehyung leaned closer, his arms encircling you in a warm embrace.

"You deserve this moment of joy, my love," he whispered, his voice gentle and soothing. "Remember, you are resilient and capable. This boss's negativity doesn't define you. You shine brighter than any obstacle."

His words touched your heart, resonating deep within your soul. With each bite of ice cream and every reassuring word, the weight of the day lifted, leaving behind a renewed sense of strength and determination.

As you shared laughter, stories, and whispered affections, the ice cream parlor transformed into a sanctuary. Worries melted away, replaced by a profound connection between you and Taehyung. Time lost its grip as the outside world faded into insignificance.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Tae," you admitted, your voice filled with gratitude. "You always find a way to turn the darkest days into moments of brightness and love."

Taehyung smiled, his eyes softening with tenderness. "And I don't know what I'd do without you, my love. You inspire me every day with your determination and unwavering spirit. Together, we can overcome any challenge that comes our way."

With the evening drawing to a close, the weight of the day no longer seemed insurmountable. Holding hands, you left the ice cream parlor, stepping out into the cool night air. The stars above twinkled, mirroring the sparkle in your eyes as you gazed at Taehyung.

As you walked side by side, a renewed sense of purpose guided your steps. The troubles at work seemed less daunting, knowing you had a partner who believed in you unconditionally. With Taehyung by your side, you were ready to face the challenges that awaited, armed with love, support, and a memory of a sweet escape.

A/N: Reblog and share if you like, and let me know what you think about this!

[glowwormsmith]

Joseph’s Birthday Bash

Uh-oh, sisters! You think the Far Cry 5 Birthday Bash was over? When I told my boyfriend about the event, he decided to make a special gift for me. I loved it. He also gave me full permission to share this on Tumblr, so to celebrate the last day of March, here is my boyfriend’s gift to the Far Cry 5 fandom. God help us all.

This is also unedited with only minor grammatical changes to make it read better. Enjoy the fic~

Summary: It’s Joseph’s birthday and everyone in Hope County is invited. Things can only go well from here.

Warning: This is a crack fic. Expect OOC-ness (though he says it’s an accurate portrayal of all the characters), general silliness, fourth-wall breaking, off-color jokes, and anything else associated with a humor/crack fic. If anything needs to be tagged, let me know.

 AN: In truth, I know very little about Far Cry 5.

Joseph's Birthday Bash

           It was a clear and sunny day at the Project of Eden's Gate compound, colloquially known as “The Father's Church.” As opposed to the compound’s usual stark and austere look, today it was vibrant; the fence that was torn open from a recent helicopter crash was fixed, and what looked to be white moonflowers were tied into every single link of every chain. Even the sign that on any other day of the year proudly displayed “Project at Eden's Gate” was covered up with a black tarp that instead was spray-painted to say “Happy Birthday!”

           Truly, it was a surreal site.

           “Oooh, it's perfect!” A young woman in a white frilly dress exclaimed, as she took in her handiwork. “Now we just have to finish the outside of the church! Go on, mush!”

           In response, the ragtag group of strangely-dressed bald men who were the ones actually tying the flowers into the chain link fence turned to give a glassy-eyed stare to their commander.

           “Mush.” She repeated, snapping her fingers and pointing to the church.

           Sluggishly, the men picked up their basket of flowers and headed to the church.

           “Ah, Faith.” A long-suffering sigh came from just behind the gate as a man with a perfectly coiffed beard and a three-hundred-dollar coat stepped through. “As usual, you're truly an inspiration to observe. I wish I could be half as sympathetic to those in my region.”

           “John!” The aforementioned Faith beamed at the new arrival. “As usual, you're acting like a posh bitch!”

           John's head jerked back slightly at her bluntness and he was just about to retort, until another, much larger man came and put his hand on his shoulder.

           “Enough.” The large redhead grunted “Don't the two of you start. It's insufferable.”

           “Wow!” Faith said with a sing-song lilt. “‘Insufferable?’ Isn't that a little too many syllables for you, jarhead?”

           Jarhead gazed at her and gave an unimpressed grunt.

           “Really, would it kill you to act a little more ladylike?” John asked the girl. “This is why you're not in the Christmas photos.”

           “This is why you’re not--” She mimicked.

           “Really. Stop.” Jarhead said. “Joseph's going to be here soon. You know how he gets about the two of you bickering. I'd rather not hear it for once.”

           “Sorry, brother,” John mumbled.

           “Sorry, brother~” Faith mimicked, to everyone's distaste.

           “Rachel.” Jarhead warned, making her grimace slightly. “Stop.”

           Faith stuck out her tongue at him for a brief moment, then turned her head towards the church and fell silent. Suddenly, a small cloud of dust kicked up from one of the cliffs above them accompanied by a hum of an engine.

           “He's here.”

           A Jeep with tinted-black windows came into view from over the cliff, driving down into the gated compound. In moments it pulled unto the gate right in front of the three siblings. The driver's side door opened and out stepped a man who practically glowed with an enlightened aura. This was the most notable man in Hope County, Joseph Seed.

           He was also wearing a blindfold.

           “Jesus H. Christ!” Jarhead barked. “Where you driving that thing blindfolded!”

           “Jacob, my brother!” Joseph greeted, turning almost (but not quite) to face where Jacob was and spreading his arms. “My escorts told me that I had to wear this, otherwise I'd spoil the surprise.”

           “Your escorts were supposed to drive!” Jacob growled, looking towards two men in red balaclavas who stepped out of the passenger and rear seats, respectively. “I am disappointed.”

           “B-but...” One of the strangely dressed men stuttered out. “The Father--he wanted to drive!”

           “Blindfolded?”

           “Now, Jacob.” The still-blindfolded Father consoled, patting his brother on the shoulder. “It's like John 9:25 says, ‘I was blind, and now I can see!’.”

           “It's not.” Jacob sighed. “You still have that thing on.”

           “You never were the most spiritual, brother.”

           “Oh for--” The tall ginger ran his hand down his face. “Can we just get on with this whole thing?”

           “I dunno,” Faith said, twirling a flower in between her fingers. “This is kinda fun to watch.”

           “No, don't listen to her.” John wheedled his way between his two brothers and grabbed Joseph by his bicep. “Come, Brother, let us show you what we prepared!”

           Ignoring the disapproving stares from pretty much everybody, John sidled up to his brother, in a way that one could say was unnervingly close even for siblings, and led him into the compound. Stopping just before the church, John held his breath before motioning for his siblings and the followers to gather around and quickly ripped off Joseph's blindfold.

           “Surprise!” Everyone hollered. “Happy birthday, Father!”

           Joseph serenely took in the whole event, gazing at his church, defaced by clumsily pasted on moonflowers behind his piss-tinted aviators.

           “Were you wearing your glasses under your blindfold?” Jacob asked, stunned by his brother's dedication to fashion.

           “Well, Brother?!” John ignored his favorite brother's apparent psychosis. “Isn't this a wonderful surprise?”

           “It is no surprise, my children.” Joseph smiled back at all his followers, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. His visage was that of one who has truly reached enlightenment. “For I have foreseen this.”

           “D'Ohhhhh!” his followers cried, shuffling their feet, as Faith nodded sagely, completely eating it up, and John looked crushed.

           “Of course you did,” Jacob sighed, wondering why he spent any time with his family.

           “Now, John.” The Father gazed around the decorated compound and nodded his head before turning and beckoning to his younger brother. “Bring me your Devil Box.”

           “My what?”

           “Your devil box,” Joseph said, as if he was talking to a small child. “Which you use to broadcast the past onto other, squarer devil boxes.”

           John looked as if he was about to have a conniption. The rest of the followers weren't much better.

           “Your camera,” Jacob grunted.

           “Oh!” John exclaimed. “But why, Joseph?”

           “Why John, today is the birthday of our Savior,” The Father chided. “Me. Obviously today should be a day of armistice and coming together.”

           “No,” Jacob interjected, already seeing where this was going.

           “Therefore, I suggest--”

           “No.”

           “--That we invite--”

           “Seriously. This is dumb.”

           “--The deputies and their friends!”

           “Joseph.”

           “Worry not, my dear brother, things are going as foreseen.” Joseph settled the matter with a deft hand and turned to his other siblings. “John, Faith, we must prepare for our guests.”

           “As the Father decrees!” Faith screeched, turning to her homeless-looking followers who gave their agreement with a cacophony of inhuman moans.

 Elsewhere

           The town of Fall's End had seen a major downsizing since the Project at Eden's Gate had started. While it was never what would be described as a “booming town,” it had a scattered few stores with a surprising variety of goods, tailored to the unique individuals that lived in Hope County. Now all stores were closed but two: a bar called the Spread Eagle, and a hardware shop that sold guns.

           It was unfortunate for the town of Fall's End that even the followers of the Project at Eden's Gate couldn't rid them of their town idiot, though.

           “DEPUTY!” A grown man with a roughshod beard and a stylized American flag shirt shouted, as he waved his hands and ran down an empty street. “DEPUTY!”

           His shouting continued until he entered the Spread Eagle.

           “DEPUTY!”

           “Hurk!” The bartender, a blonde woman, shouted back as she cleaned her glasses with a wet rag. “Quiet down! You're bothering my customers!”

           “Oh! Hey man, sorry,” Hurk said, looking around at the scattered few patrons giving him the stink-eye from over their mugs. “I was just looking for—OH, THERE YOU ARE!”

           “Hurk!” the bartender threatened.

           “Oh, sorry, man.” The town idiot nodded back again, then proceeded to walk towards a patron who was doing their best to not look at him. “Hey, man, where have you been? I've been calling your name for the last hour!”

           The person Hurk was addressing was an iconic figure of Hope County, Deputy Rook. The deputy was, even by Hope County's standards, a complete and hopeless weirdo. They were a small person, standing maybe 5'7”, and not a single person besides their parents probably knew their gender.

           Why one might ask? Because Deputy Rook always wore some kind of weird mask on their head. Be it a big chicken mask, an alien mask, or even what they were wearing today, a gigantic eyeball mask. No one truly knew what Rook's face looked like. The deputy even wore a big horse mask to their police academy graduation, which was probably the reason they were assigned to this podunk town.

           Even more than that, they were slight of build, had shaved and waxed legs, and never spoke. Ever.

           “Hey man, have you seen the TV?” Hurk questioned Deputy Rook, who in response continued to give the impression of not looking at Hurk (which was doubly impressive, given that they were wearing a gigantic eyeball on their head) and poured their beer into the cornea of their mask.

           As expected, it didn't go into the mask and splashed everywhere.

           “Yeah? That's cool, man. But seriously, you should check it out,” Hurk continued, seemingly oblivious of Rook's indifference. “HEY, MARY MAY!”

           “Hurk. I'm going to kick you out,” the bartender countered.

           “DON'T BE LIKE THAT, MAN! JUST TURN THE TV ON TO CHANNEL 3!!”            “Hurk, the only channel we get anymore is channel 3,” Mary May sighed, as she picked up the dusty TV remote from behind the bar and turned on the small CRT that they used in the past to watch the Cougar's baseball games. “You can just say ‘turn on the TV’.”

           “WILL DO, PRETTY LADY!” Hurk screamed conversationally, as he turned back to the Deputy. “Hey man, look, it's Joseph.”

           The deputy quickly glanced up to see that, indeed, on the TV was Joseph Seed. They then got up, turned their bar stool around and continued to splash their beer around.

           “Greetings, my children,” TV Joseph spoke, static slightly modulating his voice into a deeper, more seductive tone. “I am broadcasting this message to give good tidings to you all!”

           “Oh man, I don't know what that means, but it sounds sinister, don't it?!” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who raised a finger in the air to silence him.

           Mary Mae poured them a shot glass of clear liquid, which they proceeded to throw all over their mask.

           “Yeah, I like the liquor too.” Hurk nodded.

           “Today marks the day of the birth of your Savior.” TV Joseph looked over his piss-goggles for a brief moment “Me.”

           “What an asshole.” Mary May came to the general consensus as she poured herself a shot glass of clear liquid and proceeded to throw it back.

           “As such, today will be a day of peace!” The camera zoomed out to show the entirety of the followers of the Project at Eden’s Gate crowded around what looked to be Joseph's church, but it was covered in badly placed flowers. “I invite you all to my church to partake in the merriment. I hope to see you all there!”

           TV Joseph lowered his aviators again. “Especially you, Lamb of God.”

           “Huh, wonder who he was talking about.” Hurk scratched his head as the recording abruptly cut off and repeated itself a moment later. “Must be his secret weapon.”

           Deputy Rook scooted their chair as far away from Hurk as they could. They were, unfortunately, between him and a wall, and therefore had to press themselves up against a wall to get as far away from the idiot as humanly possible.

           “But you know, man, what this means we need to do?” Hurk questioned the Deputy, who was sidling the wall and trying to very sneakily escape. “WE NEED TO GO CRASH THAT PARTY!”

           “Alright Hurk, that's it! Get out of my bar!”

 Elsewhere, sometime later

             “This is a waste of time, Joseph,” Jacob grunted from his seat at the porch of Joseph's church. “Our enemies aren't just going to waltz into here.”

           He couldn't have picked a worse time to say that, as a helicopter came into view on the horizon and the sound of a horn blaring from an 18-wheeler echoed down the cliff side of their compound.

           “Faith, brother.” Joseph gave Jacob the smuggest grin.

           In short order, a convoy of vehicles pulled up to the gate of the compound: an 18-wheeler with a flame decal, a shitty-looking jeep with a Gatling gun on the roof, some gaudy looking sports car, a black sedan, and a handful of ATVs. The helicopter came and landed next to them, followed by a red biplane that didn't quite stick it's landing and rammed into the gate slightly, knocking over a 50-foot section of the chain link fence.

           “Lovely that you all have come,” Joseph said serenely, waving to the group of people who were filtering out of their vehicles and checking the safety on their weapons. “Truly, it is a day for celebration--and don't worry, we've made enough macaroni salad for everyone!”

           “Bleh!” Hurk said in sync with a young man holding a flamethrower stylized with a shark motif.

           “Come, my children,” Joseph beckoned, conveniently ignoring anything that didn't fit his worldview. “We shall begin to make with the merriment!”

           “Check your guns at the door,” Jacob added.

             As it turned out, the community gathering didn't immediately dissolve into a crazed slaughter. There was (surprisingly for the Seed’s) a good amount of liquor provided. Deputy Hudson, the only (at least proven) female deputy, managed to integrate herself with a group of Jacob's hunters and were quietly discussing amongst themselves what the best shotgun slug on the market was. Whitehorse had a surprising love of fashion and was discussing Mumu's Fashion Week with John, who was an avid collector. Deputy Rook even managed to be companionable, if silent, after one of Joseph's followers commented that they liked the gaudy, skeleton-embroidered gloves they wore. Everyone else was laughing at the Project at Eden Gate followers suffering through the classic Seed macaroni salad. All in all, it was a good time.

           “Everyone,” Joseph called out. “It's now time for the exchange of gifts!”

           Alas, all good things come to an end.

           Whitehorse motioned to Deputy Rook, who leaned their dumb eyeball mask close to their boss. “We were supposed to get gifts?”

           Rook shrugged. It was a birthday after all.

           “Why didn't you tell me?” Whitehorse demanded. Rook turned their eyeball mask fully to face the sheriff down in a stare-off.

           “...Fine.” Whitehorse relented. “You make a good case. You're lucky you’re such a damn good speaker, Rook.”

           A deep sigh came from the mask before Rook turned back towards the Father.

           “Me first!” John shouted, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. He cleared his throat and presented a perfectly wrapped box to his brother.

           “Thank you, dear brother,” praised the Father as he carefully unwrapped the box. As he reached inside, he pulled out a painting frame. “...Modern art?”

           “It's the first sin I carved out of myself!” John proudly displayed a scar on his left underarm, “Are you not proud, brother?!”

           Slightly green, Joseph nodded, setting the framed piece of flayed skin in a pile he mentally marked as 'trash'. “Very. Next, please.”

           No one moved.

           “Come now, no need to be shy.” Joseph looked around the crowd who was trying very hard not to meet his eyes. “How about Faith? Come now, my child.”

           “Err...” Faith's eyes darted around like a rabbit staring down a shotgun. “How about Jacob first?”

           “No, no. I'm sure your gift will be wonderful,” The Father countered with a smile.

           “Sure, yeah! Wonderful.” Faith inched away. “I just have to go get it! I'll be right back!”

           The young woman bolted away. A couple minutes passed, then five, then ten. Most of the gathered guests wondered if she was going to come back (most hoped that she wouldn't). Any concerns were allayed and hopes dashed moments later, however, when she came back with a poorly wrapped and heavily-taped, ball-looking object.

           “Happy birthday, Father!” Faith exclaimed with a proud smile as she shoved the gift into his outstretched hands.

           “Thank you, sister.” Joseph serenely intoned, carefully picking at his gift in order to most carefully unwrap it, only for it to spill all over his suit. “...Dirt?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith explained.

           “Oh?” The Father was quite interested. “How so?”

           “It's symbolic,” Faith repeated, sweat beading down her face, her ever present smile trembling slightly.

           The Father looked over his glasses at her with what half the crowd would say was disappointment, and the other half would say was understanding. “I see.”

           “Jacob!” Faith screeched grabbing her actually-not-really brother by his huge bear arm and dragged him forward. “You're turn.”

           “Fine,” he huffed. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he withdrew a small, unwrapped cardboard box, not much bigger than a soda can. “Happy birthday, Jo.”

           “Thank you, Jacob.” The Father smiled, comfortable in the knowledge that his eldest brother would actually bring him a regular gift. He opened the box and examined the plastic object. “...What is it, exactly?”

           “It's a speed reloader,” Jacob explained, picking up the gift and holding it in what Joseph assumed was the correct configuration. “You load your bullets here, and if you ever need to reload, it'll barely take you a half-second.”

           “A speed reloader?” Joseph was baffled. “For an assault rifle?”

           “What? No.” Jacob was beginning to be as baffled as his brother and pointed to the gun at his waist. “I've never seen you with a rifle. That's for the revolver you're always totting around.”

           The Father stared at his brother for a solid two seconds before bursting out with warm laughter. “Oh Jacob, I'll never actually use this weapon.”

           “Joseph, I know you don't like guns, but--”

           “No, no brother. It's just a character design element,” The Father explained. “Why, using it would be silly.”

           “I don't understand what you're saying.”

           “Don't worry, all is as foreseen,” Joseph said, falling back to his cop-out line.

           “I'm done.” Jacob gave up, rubbing his forehead in suppressed rage, he gestured to the deputies and their compatriots. “One of you idiots can go next.”

           “Oh, I'll go, I'll go!” Hurk waved his hand and ran up to Joseph before shoving what looked to be a shopping bag right in his face. It made a satisfying “bonk” as it rebounded off his forehead. “I know we had our troubles, man, with me dropping out of the cult and all, but this has been cool.”

           “Thank you, young Herakles,” Joseph said benevolently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. “I'm glad—”

           “Yo, man, where did you hear that name?” Hurk tried to whisper, but it came across even louder. “My name is Hurk.”

           A rasping chuckle came from the weirdo in the giant eyeball mask in the crowd.

           “Young Herakles,” Joseph said. “You should be proud of your name. It has heritage and—”

           “WOO-HEE!!” Hurk screamed. “WHO KNOWS WHAT THESE PEGGIES ARE SAYING, AMIRITE?!”

           “I'll just open this now,” Joseph said, opening his shopping bag and taking out a rather nice bottle of wine. “Young Herakles, this is one of the bottles of wine I bought for this party.”

           “I know, man!” Hurk agreed. “I knew you'd like it.”

           Joseph looked at the bottle in his hand and set it beside him. He looked to his eldest brother and made a motion of cutting his throat. “I see.”

           Jacob grunted, grabbed Hurk by the shoulder and guided him back to his friends. “Next.”

           “Sure.” A black man with a smooth voice stepped to the front of the queue. “I've got something to give Joseph.”

           As the Father saw this guest, his eyes lit up. “If it isn't my old friend, Jerome!”

           “‘Old friend’. Sure,” Jerome said dryly.

           “I missed you, friend,” The Father continued. “Remember when we used to camp out together?”

           “You mean when you squatted in my church?”

           “Or when you had me as a guest preacher?” Joseph pushed on.

           “You wouldn't stop interrupting my Mass.”

           “Such good times.” Joseph said. “What tidings do you bring, old friend?”

           “This.” Jerome placed a half-drank water bottle in front of the father emblazoned with the words ‘Holy Water’ in still-wet, permanent marker ink. “Blessed it myself. I'm curious if you'll spontaneously combust when it touches your skin.”

           “You blessed it yourself?!” Joseph gasped. “I'll treasure it. Thank you, my friend.”

           Jerome just glared at the Father.

           “And no hard feelings about the thing with your daughter, right, friend?” Joseph pushed.

           Jerome continued to glare at the Father.

           “Haha, of course not old, friend. What a story.”

           Deputy Hudson quickly went up and dragged the preacher away before he went to strangle Joseph.

           “That will be a hard act to follow,” Joseph warned.

           The gathered looked at each other and started shoving each other to try to push one unwilling sacrifice to the head of the crowd. After a couple moments, a man stumbled out at the head of the crowd.            “I suppose I'll go,” said a dirty man with crazy hair. He walked up to the Father, dug through his pocket, and dropped a crumpled cardboard business card on his place mat. “Here.”

            “Why...Thank you,” Joseph said, inching away from the filthy man. He gave a glance at the business card before grabbing the tongs from the macaroni salad, and used it to pick up the card and bring it to eye level. “A free, 1-year subscription to...Zip Kupka's NewsBattles?”

           “It's my internet talk show,” Zip Kupka explained. “You can get it on XM radio, too. It tells about all the hard-hitting news, like the bliss in the Henbane turning all the fish gay!”

           “Lies!” Faith shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. “Baseless slander!”

           “Wait,” Skylar Kohrs, the young fishing champion of Hope County, muttered. “Is that why there are no Demonfish out this season?”

           “What are Demonfish?” Staci Pratt, local emasculated deputy, asked the butch fisher-girl.

           “You know,” Skylar explained, holding out her hands to their full wingspan. “About this big, dorsal fins, huge teeth.”

           “Skylar,” Staci said in a slow voice, as if talking to an idiot. “There aren't any sharks in Montana.”

           “I know,” Skylar shot back. “They're Demonfish.”

           “Children, children.” Joseph held up his hands, forestalling their argument. “We're getting away from the important thing here. Me.”

           Deputy Rook idly wondered if the buffet table sporks graciously given out for the macaroni salad would make a good enough weapon to stab Joseph. Before they could act on that train of thought, an old, bearded man in an apron jogged into the middle of the crowd, shouting unintelligible madness.

           “Mphyadn, Shawdamnh Birthday,” the seemingly crazed man said. “Hadph, doart cake mera fer lpod.”

           “My child, do have peanut butter in your mouth?” Joseph offered the man a glass of wine. “You sound like you could use a drink.”

           “No Padfd Btha.” The man shook his head, but took the glass from the Father and downed it all in one quick throw. “Baday cake Tephda, Aldkh?”

           “Err,” Whitehorse broke in, seeing as none of the cult members (or their leaders) could understand this man. “Chad here's saying that for his gift, he made a birthday cake for you. He was asking if he could clear off some space to bring it out.”

           “Of course, my child!” Joseph said. “But leave the macaroni, all my children seem to be enjoying it.”

           Chad looked disbelievingly at the Father as a cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from the crowd, but nodded and went to his truck where he retrieved the cake, made some space on the table near Joseph, and set it down.

           “Quite an...” Joseph looked at the giant meatball in front of him. “...Interesting-looking birthday cake.”

           “Mera o Mtabaffth,” Chad explained.

           Wordlessly, Joseph turned to the Sheriff.

           “It's more of a meatloaf,” Whitehorse said. “Chad's a world-class BBQ chef. It makes more sense than him actually baking a cake.”

           “I see.” Joseph nodded, carefully cutting a small piece of the giant meatball and eating it. After a couple moments of chewing, his eyes lit up and he took a bigger piece. “This is actually quite good! What kind of meat is this?”

           Chad smiled and then said, in perfectly understandable and unaccented English, “Bull testicles.”

           The Father stopped chewing, and audibly gulped. He set his tableware to the side and nodded. “Thank you, my child. I think I'll save the rest for all my guests.”            “Oh wow, you sure?!” a man in aviators and a flannel vest pushed his way forwards before grabbing a literal handful of the cake. “Look, Kim! They got testies!”

           “...Great job, honey.” A pregnant Asian woman congratulated him from the gaggle of guests as she hung her head in shame.

           The Father watched on in fascinated horror behind his glasses as the man savagely ate the handful of testicles with an “Om nom nom!”

           “Is it really that good?” one of the Project at Eden's Gate followers wondered aloud.

           “It must be, look at him go,” another said, pointing at the man filling his cheeks with testicles. “Chad is a world-class BBQ chef, after all.

           “Hey, yeah, let’s go try some.” And so, the entire crowd of guests meandered their way forward and made quick work of the testicle cake.

           “Oh my,” Joseph said drolly. “I wish my macaroni salad would go as quickly.”

           The worshipers looked away from the Father. A cry of “Your macaroni sucks!” came from somewhere in the crowd.

           “Hey man, it's like, nature.” Sharky Boshaw, Hope County's resident firebug, said, spraying bull testicle everywhere as he did so. “You can't stop nature. Everyone wants to get some balls in their mouth.”

           “Young man,” Joseph preached, gesturing towards where his siblings stood. “Of course, you can go against nature. Why, look at my siblings.”

           Turning, Joseph only saw Jacob there, with a disassembled gun in his lap.

           “Where did John and Faith go?” Joseph asked his brother. Jacob grunted and motioned towards the table with his head. Turning, the Father came to the sight of his youngest brother and sister stuffing their face with testicles. Looking at his siblings voraciously eating the balls, Joseph could only come to agreement with the young man in front of him. “Nature is truly a frightening thing.”

           “Yeah, man. Anyways, happy B-day,” Sharky said, before digging in his pocket and tossing the Father a lighter. “That's a favorite of mine, real sentimental value.”

           The Father examined the bright blue plastic lighter. “It's a Zippo.”            “Good brand,” Sharky agreed with a nod.

           “It has a 99-cent sticker on it,” The Father argued, before spinning the striker. “And it's empty.”

           “Real sentimental value.”

           Joseph set down the lighter in the “trash” pile next to John's gift. “Thank you, my child.”

           “Oh yeah! Sharky kills it again!” The pyro pumped his fist. “Beat that, po-po!”

           Sighing, Deputy Rook rose to bring their gift to the so-called prophet.

           “Oh, the Lamb of God!” Joseph rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Wait, wait!”

           The Father grabbed the left shoulder of his suit coat with his right hand, and in one fluid movement, ripped off his whole suit top and dress shirt and threw it to the side, revealing his tattoos to the world. He looked over his glasses at Deputy Rook and held his arms towards them, motioning for them to 'come hither'. “Come, my child.”

           The Deputy's whole dumb eyeball mask rolled. They woodenly marched forward and reached into their jacket and dropped, into the Father's outstretched hands, a remote bomb. On it was a sticky note that read, ‘Not every problem can be solved with a bullet. This isn't a bullet.’

           Suddenly, everyone was pointing weapons at each other.

           “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” John was yelling at Sharky as he pushed his gun against his forehead.

           “YOU FUCKING PUT THE GUN DOWN!” Hurk yelled back as he pushed his rocket launcher against John's liver.

           “YOU AREN'T GOING TO FUCKING DO IT!” Faith shouted as she rapidly moved her shotgun between them.

           Deputy Rook, meanwhile, rolled the detonator between their palms.

           Joseph sighed and set the gift down in the trash pile. “Peace, children, peace.”

           “Joseph,” Jacob grunted. “You're sitting next to a bomb. Peace is a little out of the picture.”

           “Now, brother,” Joseph said placatingly, pulling out a silver stopwatch and checking the time. “Let's wait until we get the last gift.”

           “What last gift?” Jacob hissed at his brother, who turned his head skyward.

           “That.” A whistling was heard in the distance. Then, Joseph's church exploded in a shower of wood, sawdust and moonflowers. The kinetic energy from the blast sent everyone except Joseph, who was standing in just the right spot, hurtling to the ground, ears ringing.

           The Father walked up to the object jutting out from his now destroyed church, and lay his hand upon its cool, metal surface.

           Jacob was the first of those not blessed by (a dark) God to recover. He looked up at his brother to see him stroking an undetonated ICBM. On it was Cyrillic characters that he recognized; Russian. He only knew a brief smattering, so it took him a moment to translate what it said, but when he did, he could only mutter, “Crazy bastard.”

           On the missile it read, Happy Birthday, Joseph – God.

           Smiling, Joseph meet his older brother's eyes. “It is all as foreseen.”

           Then the world was covered in cleansing fire.

         Fin

[brynfelan]

...so this is very much unrelated to the kuzuhina story im cooking up but my wonderful brain thought up another thing.

Despair-era KuzuPeko with Natsumi, who somehow survived Sato's attack (thicc skull saved her ass). But rip Natsumi anyway because they had to Despair her in order to be saved from Junko's...everything. So now we got a Despaired Yakuza Trio, the world is quaking.

Now Natsumi's just out and about, watching the riots and killings in person because NO ONE dares to try and kill Fuyuhiko's little sis. She's just skipping over dead bodies when she gets the strange urge to check out a building that's clearly been abandoned 20 times over. She checks it out anyway.

Lo and behold, she finds a Reserve Course student who survived The Tragedy! She can tell from the suit they're wearing. They look familiar, but she's too excited with showing Fuyuhiko and Peko this major discovery to dig through her spotty memory and see if she remembers them.

She really should've, because its Hajime Hinata she's dragging to the other members of the Despaired Yakuza Trio. The only person to see through her act and truly befriend her when they were in the Reserve Course together. The person who started dating Fuyuhiko and Peko a few months after she brought them all together for the first time.

The person whose sudden disappearance devastated Fuyuhiko and Peko enough to make them susceptible to Junko's despair.

And Hajime, who now has Izuru living in his head and helping him out on occasion, is freaking out. As he should be. Because this could go so many different ways and Izuru is not bored. Izuru's curious and interested with how this is gonna go down.

What a reunion that's gonna be.

oh my god you absolute genius

cue hajime internally freaking out at izuru just being super interested in what’s going on in front of him. because he knows about fuyuhiko and peko and natsumi and the bond the four of them had before the world got fucked, but he’s never seen it and how the dynamic changes because of despair interests him so he’s pushing hajime to just go with natsumi to see what happens.

natsumi is high on despair so like, she doesn’t even bother figuring out what’s going on, all she knows is “ooh, new toy let’s go”,  but when they get to peko and fuyuhiko there’s this whole shift. despite everything, neither fuyuhiko or peko forgot about hajime, his disappearance was part of what drove them to be like that, and now he’s there in front of him they’ve both got hope and despair fighting it out in their heads.

their first instinct is to destroy, because they’re seeking despair above all else and what is more despair inducing than killing the one hope you had left? but the tiny sane parts of their brains keep making excuses to not kill him outright, instead taking him with them kinda like a pet (not the right wording but it’s like 1am what ya gonna do lol) to show them what they became when he disappeared. izuru doesn’t find the despair interesting on its own, but the dynamic is strange because he can’t logic his way through how they’re acting. so, hajime follows them around throughout the Tragedy, knowing full well that if he needs to Get Outta There, Izuru has his back. 

of course, hajime puts up with a Lot Of Shit from them. there’s a lot of back and forth, especially once Natsumi remembers too - one day they’re calling him their Hope and the next they’re talking about how would be best to prolong his torture and death - they never do it, for some reason they can’t bring themselves to, but something about your girlfriend, your boyfriend, and your boyfriend’s little sister talking in great detail about all the ways they’d like to torture you is incredibly unsettling.

when Future Foundation is formed, and they start coming after the Remnants, Hajime hears Fuyuhiko, Peko and Natsumi talking about it and Izuru notices that they’re becoming more sloppy in their work; it’s like they’re trying to get caught. they get close to FF just because they can, and get so close to being caught but put up just enough of a fight that they make it out - they tell him it’s the thrill of the chase, but equally it’s the same parts of their brains that are making them keep hajime alive.

and then, they get caught. they lose. neo world programme happens, without any interference because even though izuru kinda really wants to know, hajime’s not fuckin having it, and they get their almost-happily ever after with the sprinkles of added trauma.

[stainedglassgardens]

June 2021

The new job is going well. I think realistically this is the best I could have hoped for at this point in time. Before I found this I kept telling myself “Now the only thing I need is a job”, and lo and behold, now I’ve got one. I’ve been on two (2) outside lunches with my colleagues. They’re nice enough. More importantly, they’re competent at what they do, which makes working with them easy. Oh, my job title is “administrative assistant”, which could mean just about anything, which I love.

Something happened in June that I promised not to talk about -- which makes it sound way more important than it actually was, but it still shook me a little. Feelings of vindication followed by feelings of rage and despair. Luckily it won’t have any bearing on my future, so I can let the matter rest.

I’m going through such a good period right now. As corny as it sounds, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy -- certainly not this consistently or for this long.

Earlier in June I was reading Ruby Elliot’s first book, It’s All Absolutely Fine, and I was thinking what a good book it is and how well it captures this feeling you get especially in early adulthood that surely someone somewhere made a mistake and you cannot be left in charge of this (meaning, your life). This feeling you get in the depths of depression that something is so wrong that you cannot even begin to articulate it, but it is so obvious that it’s the only thing you can ever see, no matter where you look.

I was thinking of the lunchtime conversations at my old job and how disconnected I would feel from the daily lives they described, with children, husbands, family reunions, car problems, zumba once a week, who knows. How impossible it was for me to tell them anything at all about me. How could I say, in polite conversation, that my family was a hellscape I fled as soon as I turned eighteen? That I was the best in my class every single year up to and including my master’s and still ended up working at a call centre? That I was always tired because I’d wake up from nightmares drenched in sweat every single night, multiple times a night? That I had an ever-changing roster of terrible boyfriends that I somehow could never shake off completely? That nothing at all was going right?

That’s how my life was, year after year, until about a year and a half ago. It’s only since then that I’ve felt that there is a future after all. I walked in the fog for so long I almost forgot how to use my eyes, but now I can finally see again.

I live in a normal flat, one I can invite people to without shame, buy furniture for. I’ve got a respectable job that I can mention without blushing when I’m asked what I do. More importantly, I’m in the best possible relationship, one that goes beyond what I would have thought possible. This has opened up so many possibilities, it’s unbelievable.

And in June we went to the cinema again. To the museum. To our first gig of the year. Things are opening up again and we’ve both had our first shot of the COVID vaccine, getting our second one this month. The future feels so open.

[astertataricvs]

Sanemi Shinazugawa || Penitence Part 1

This is dedicated to my Lil sis who is a sucker for angst and Sanemi lol @kimetsu-no-yaiba-headcanons I Luv u, sis ❣❣

Word count: 3.4k+ words

Part 2

"(Name), I've got to go," Sanemi says as he started to grab his bag to go to his work from being a high school teacher at the school where you two have previously studied and where you first met.

"Oh, sure! Take care, love." You give him a peck on the lips and then Sanemi sighed afterwards.

"Yeah, see you," he bid his goodbye then stepped outside the apartment you both shared.

Once the door closed, your smile instantly faded and stared at the door with droopy eyes. You let out a despondent breath before treading towards the living room and plopped yourself on the couch.

It's been four months since Sanemi began to give you a cold shoulder and would frequently arrive home when you're already asleep. He doesn't even text you quite often just like what he habitually did before. He would invariably be the one apprising you where he was and he wouldn't pass an hour without responding to your texts. But now, he's not replying you anymore and would simply give you a cold answer that he's still busy working on his class' reports.

Formerly, when he's going to his work, he would uniformly be the one demanding you where his goodbye kiss was and would always take you out on dates during weekends.

Although Sanemi looks intimidating and looks like a thug because of his scars, he's actually the compassionate man despite that he's harsh and hotheaded.

Sanemi is the most winsome boyfriend you could ever ask for, he will sometimes purchase you things that you want and will surprise you due to the stuff he obtained for you. He would always hug you from the back while you were cooking and loves to cuddle with you on the bed when he's having a buffeting day. He will constantly tell you how much he loves you and he's so gratified that you're the one he asked for marriage. He doesn't regret accepting your confession from that fateful day and he's very much glorified for having you in his life.

When you two graduated from college and acquired a decent job, that's when Sanemi asked your hand for marriage and it seemed like your whole world froze upon hearing his words and felt like you're on cloud nine, because finally, the love of your life had proposed to you. Due to so much exaltation you're feeling, you cried for almost two hours and still can't believe that you're engaged with Sanemi. It feels so surreal and you just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Being together with Sanemi for almost eight years, you two decided to live together in an apartment complex. These years you've lived with him, you couldn't get any happier and you wanted to stay beside him until you grow up and create your own family.

You didn't know that the most joyous times with your fiancé... would come to an end.

You still remembered in the 4th April of spring were flowers and trees were beginning to bud and the snow had irrevocably rendered. You wouldn't disregard that day since that's the time where Sanemi started to change and he's coming home late rather than usual. Whenever he's coming back to your apartment, he would just tell you that he's worn out from work and he needs to do his paperwork of his students.

Moreover, he's not eating together with you whether it's breakfast or dinner either. He's not replying to your texts and whenever you want to cuddle with him, he would spontaneously avoid you and pry your hands away from him. You were inaugurating to become more anxious because of Sanemi's cold demeanour towards you. He wasn't like this before and he's the one who would always seek for your touches and kisses but now... he's not.

In your shared bedroom when you're going to sleep; Sanemi would just lay on the bed, not uttering a single word except saying goodnight. Even if you tried to hug him from behind, he wouldn't return your embrace and just let his back face to you and sleep.

You convinced yourself that this behaviour of Sanemi would disappear soon and your boyfriend that you loved would gradually come back to you again...

Or so you thought.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months; Sanemi was still the same as ever, he's becoming more distant and you could have sworn you can smell a woman's fragrance emitting on him whenever he's coming back to your shared apartment.

You're not thick-skulled and feeble-minded not to quickly apprehend his sudden shift of behaviour towards you. You know that your fiancé of two years and boyfriend for straight six years was now falling out of love for you.

It literally breaks you by just thinking that. It shattered your heart into millions of pieces knowing the reality that Sanemi doesn't love you anymore just like before. You cried in anguish until you broke down in your office because you can't suppress the intolerable pain you've been hiding for months. Specifically, whenever you're trying to stare at the engagement ring he gave you from that happiest day he proposed to you, you couldn't restrain the tears to fall down on your cheeks and let yourself asphyxiate into the depths of despair.

You really miss Sanemi so much, you miss his cuddles, you miss his hugs, you miss his kisses, you miss how he showered you with his affections. You miss the Sanemi that you adored, you don't prefer the new Sanemi right now. You even prayed to the God's to bring back the man that you loved but, even if you bellowed and begged, Sanemi was still giving you the cold shoulders and the God's weren't granting your prayers either.

Then last month, you just discovered that your fiancé was having an affair with his co-worker. You spotted him with your own two eyes when you're walking back home and then you saw him on the congested streets holding a woman's hand that you haven't known and they were laughing without any care in the world. Moreover, what drastically triggered and broke you was when Sanemi kissed the woman on the lips, doesn't even afraid if anyone might saw them.

Beholding with your own two eyes how your man kissed the woman when he couldn't even give you a kiss or just a peck, you couldn't handle the tears to dribble down on your cheeks and heard a glass shattered in the back of your mind.

That's it, that's the last straw, you feel like your whole world crashed down and your vision becomes hazy as if the darkness was devouring your body.

You rapidly run away while eyes were shut. You do not care if you're colliding with anyone you come across to, you just wanted to run away and forget what you just saw and screech at the top of your lungs until you become aphasic. You feel like you wanted to die and just jump on the building so you wouldn't endure this agonising pain anymore and woke up from this horrible nightmare.

You just wanted to be dead.

Giyuu, your best friend knew about Sanemi having an affair with his co-worker, how unprofessional. You divulged it to him since you couldn't abstain the overwhelming pain that your fiancé had caused.

Giyuu was enraged when you talked about it to him, despite that he remained his composure, he was seriously indignant inside and wanted to punch Sanemi's face for cheating on you. Fortunately for Sanemi you suspended Giyuu from doing his plan on beating the shit out of Sanemi since he knows about your real condition and you don't want them to cause any more ruckus.

Your life is already in entropy are you still going to supplement more? Nope.

Giyuu only consoled you while you were crying in his arms, he doesn't know what to say to you. Does he need to comfort you through words? But knowing himself, he definitely sucks at comforting anyone and his communicative skills is a negative 100 percent. He's not great at speaking to other people whether if you're his friend or not, he's this reserved and timid man to even give you soothing speeches.

He merely stared at you with pity, he sympathizes you for enduring this kind of pain that you surely didn't deserve. Why did even Sanemi choose that woman rather than you who already have the attributes of a woman that any man could ever ask for.

Sanemi is an asshole and imbecilic for leaving you and for treating you like this.

"So what's your plan, (Name)?" Giyuu abruptly asked causing you to stop from crying and clasped your hands onto his shirt.

"I don't plan on telling him that I know he's cheating on me, Giyuu. I just wanted to stay the way it is now and... relish the moment I had with Sanemi until my very last breath."

Sanemi just got home and suddenly heard a clamouring sound in the kitchen. He hurriedly went inside and saw you sitting on the floor while your back was facing at him, the utensils were scattered and you were coughing fervently.

"What's going on here?" Your body tensed when you heard your boyfriend's voice.

Wiping your mouth, you gradually looked over your shoulder then bestow him a minuscule smile. "Nothing, I'm just being the clumsy girl again."

Sanemi's eyebrows bend and let out a huff. "You should tidy it up," he coldly stated then turned his heels to go to the bedroom to change his attire.

You were puzzled to why he came home early apprehending that your fiancé would regularly return at midnight. But nonetheless to say, a part of you was a bit happy since it's been a while you witnessed your husband coming home from his work.

But is it really his work?

Without further ado, you clean the mess up and afterwards, you started to cook dinner for the two of you. You heard the television being turned on and you can't help the smile pulling at your lips. It's sure has been a while since you feel the presence of Sanemi inside, although you're happy right now due to your husband is with you tonight, you still couldn't obliterate the truth that he's still giving you the cold shoulder and being distant.

In spite of Sanemi is just near to you, it feels like he's still so far and you couldn't reach him even if he's just a hand reach away.

He's so close yet so far.

An hour later, you called for Sanemi, indicating that your dinner is now ready. You heard light footsteps coming towards your direction and when your fiancé emerges from the door, you give him a constrained smile then took a seat. Sanemi also takes his seat across from you and started eating.

Silence envelops you both and the only noises you were hearing is the clamouring of your utensils. You only stared at Sanemi chewing his food quietly and didn't bother to chat with you about something even his work. He didn't even ask you how your day was and just remain muted.

Before, he was the one inaugurating a conversation and would always ask you regarding your day. But, that's your Sanemi before, the one across from you is the new Sanemi and not the Sanemi that you had fallen in love.

Sighing, you finished your food and started to take your plate and put it on the sink. Your fiancé merely watched you while silently eating.

"Just put the plates on the sink if you finished eating, I'll just wash it tomorrow. Goodnight." You kissed his cheeks and began to leave the kitchen.

Today is Sunday, Sanemi decided to stay in the house with you and watch some shows on the television while you were cleaning the house.

You were once again perplexed why he stayed during weekends when he was always going out to who knows where. He wasn't informing you where he was going but his only answer to you is that his colleagues and he were doing class' reports or his friends were inviting him to a party. You didn't ask him any further because you certainly trust your boyfriend, but that was before.

Now that you finished cleaning, you went inside the living room where Sanemi was and took a seat at the end of the couch, a meter away from your boyfriend. The two of you stayed soundless and just watched some random shows.

No words came out from your mouth and just let your eyes fixated on the television not bothering to look at Sanemi. You're already contented with your fiancé's attendance inside your apartment and just be appreciative to it. You surely do miss his presence so you don't want to make it any more cumbersome between you both and make him mad because of your multiple questions that were eddying in your head. Furthermore, you told Giyuu that you wanted to stay it this way and savour the moment with him.

"Are you done with cleaning?" He questioned while eyes were still on the television.

"Yes, why are you here anyway?" You asked back and you take a side glance to see Sanemi looking at you with arched eyebrows.

"What? Am I not allowed to stay in my own home?" He rolled his eyes and you elicit a chuckle.

"No, it's just... it's unusual for you to stay since you're always going out during weekends." You quietly answered while looking down and fumbling your fingers.

"I don't have any plans for today so I didn't bother going out."

Sanemi resumed from watching and you gazed at him with lips slightly parted. You only studied your boyfriend's features and engrave it into your mind. It's been a long time since you looked closely at Sanemi's handsome face and you just remembered that he has scars plastered on his visage. You totally forgot that he has because he was habitually out every day and would come home when you're already asleep, also, he would eventually go to his work when you just woke up.

That's why it's really been a long time since you gaze at his face and remembered what he really looked like. Your heart instantly palpitated inside your chest and feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

You really missed Sanemi so much that it hurts.

"What are you staring at?" Sanemi interrupted you from your deep thoughts and blink upon hearing his baritone voice. "The hell are you crying for?"

Your boyfriend looked at you with irritation as he saw the droplets of tears trickling over your cheeks. Feeling the cold water trailing down your face, you immediately wiped the tears away and sniffed to restrict yourself from breaking down.

You don't want to cry anymore even if it hurts. You already admitted the reality that Sanemi will not come back and he already found someone else that he loves. It's already over between you two but... why is he still staying with you when he doesn't love you anymore?

"A-Ah... nothing! I-I just missed you is all..." you sputtered and remain collected even if you wanted to cry at the top of your lungs and tackle him with a hug and will never let go.

Sanemi didn't respond at your answer and only looked at you with a grimace before diverting his gaze at the television.

Crack.

'Why weren't you wiping away the tears even if you already saw me crying, Sanemi? Weren't you always the one doing it and hug me until I fall asleep?' You thought.

"Hey, Sanemi," you called.

"What is it now, (Name)?" He groaned in annoyance and darted his eyes at you.

"Can I sleep on your lap?" You asked timidly and your fiancé raised his eyebrows.

"No," his blunt answer which causes your heart to drop and eyes droop dejectedly.

"Just this once please?" You begged. You hope that Sanemi will let you sleep on his lap even if he doesn't want to. You just wanted to do the things you did before when he still loves you back.

"Damn it! Do whatever you want!" He scowled to which your eyes glimmered in hope and slowly crawl on the couch then lay your head on his lap.

Sanemi didn't speak after that and you solely stared at him longingly from your position. You missed his warmth and you missed the closeness you both have in the past. It seems like you're back from the day when you were still happy with him, however... the love for one another had already vanished.

That's the unrelenting reality.

"Hey, Sanemi," you called again, earning a grunt from him.

"What now?" A couple of minutes of silence, you mustered up your courage to ask him.

"Why are you still staying with me?"

Sanemi's body immediately stiffens and hastily glanced at you who's laying on his lap. He stared at you with broad eyes while you only looked at him with tenderness. The same tenderness he saw every day and now that he's being distant to you, he can still vividly see it as if nothing happened between you two.

'Why are you still giving me that look, (Name)?'

"What the hell are you saying?" He spat and leans his back on the backrest. "I don't want to answer your ridiculous question, (Name). If you wanted to sleep then sleep or I'll leave you here in the living room."

You averted your gaze from him and shift your position by facing your back at him. Closing your eyes, you inhaled a handful of oxygen and let the tears flow down freely.

You feel so broken right now, his words really sting.

"Just forget about it," you say and yet again you closed your eyes, feeling afflicted.

The following day, you and Sanemi ate your breakfast together and after minutes of a discommodious atmosphere and preparing yourselves, Sanemi stood up from his seat and was already at the doorstep, ready to leave ー but before he can hold the doorknob, you called his name and give him his lunch box.

"Here, you should bring this to you," you beamed and handed him the lunch box that he hasn't brought for months after he started being distant to you and seeing another woman.

"Thanks," he deadpanned and grabbed the lunch box before putting it inside his back.

"Hey, Sanemi."

"What?" He scowled while fixing his necktie.

"I love you, Sanemi," you sweetly said, bestowing him your bright smile. Sanemi just stared at you before extorting a sigh.

"Yeah, I'm going to leave now."

"Before you leave, can I ask you a favour?" You inquired which causes the white-haired boy to glance at you with uncertainty.

It's been a long time since you asked for his favour after years of being together.

"What is it? Hurry up, I'm going to be late," he simply stated. You bashfully averted your eyes and fiddle your fingers.

"Can you... Can you hug me and say to me that you love me one last time?" You inaudibly said but Sanemi heard you perfectly.

"That's all?" You nodded your head.

Sanemi placed his bag down and face you. You two stared into each other's eyes and gradually, you feel his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. The warmth that you've been craving and the hold of the man that you'll ever love, you will never overlook how you fit perfectly in his arms.

You inhaled the manly scent of your fiancé and you feel so happy and contented right now, you couldn't ask for more, now that you feel the arms of Sanemi around you once again.

"I love you, (Name)..." he mumbles.

Hearing him say it one last time, the tears started to build in your eyes and closed it, relishing this moment with him that you'll definitely cherish.

After half a minute, Sanemi pushed you back and began to pick his bag.

"I'm leaving," he informs to which you only nodded your head.

"Take care, love and goodbye Sanemi," you earnestly say then flash him a warm smile. Your boyfriend merely stared at you then nodded in acknowledgement.

"Bye."

-----

Part 2

[triscribe]

4am is not the time for an adventure

But I got one anyway.

So, my work shifts start early (even earlier than usual lately thanks to how many of y’all are ordering stuff online now), and this morning I’d set an alarm for 1:30 in order to get up and go to the overtime Saturday shift. Well. Didn’t happen, since I count make myself get out of bed until 3. I wasn’t inclined to let Mom put me to work first thing when she woke up, though, so I grabbed my backpack and headed off to the downtown library to sit on a bench outside and use their wifi.

And, uh. I got approached, about an hour later.

This woman, maybe late thirties, early forties, came down the street towards me, crying, and asked if I could help her. No idea at the time what the problem was, I said of course - what else could I say? She sat down on the bench next to me, still crying, and repeating herself over and over: “I lost the key fob, I’ve been walking around for three hours looking for it, for the car, I’m so stupid, he’s gonna kill me, he begged me not to go-”

It took a while, but I managed to ascertain the following facts:

-She’d been at one of the local restaurant/bars, which had closed up for the night a while ago.

-She wasn’t entirely sure which one, and wasn’t entirely sure where in the main street area she wandered, because she’s only been in Texas for two days.

-Her keys were locked in the car. She couldn’t find her car. She’d also misplaced the electronic fob that would unlock the door to let her in even if she did know where the car was. Quite possibly the fob and vehicle had both been stolen, which was contributing to a large amount of her panic.

-Calling for help was out, and her partner (boyfriend? husband? I never did learn that one) was “going to kill her”.

-She was still drunk. Or something. Distraught, understandably, and definitely not thinking straight.

So, I packed my stuff back up, guided her over to my puppy truck and got her settled, then waited as she called her partner. From what little I could hear of his voice over the phone, he sounded fairly chill if confused. Or maybe that was just a side-effect of being woken up at 4:30am while still hungover from their dinner before she even left for the bar. Anyway, my new friend starts crying again, because and/or in spite of whatever he said to her. I figure it’s time to start driving.

Right turn away from the library parking lot, up one block to where my favorite internet cafe is on the corner, left turn towards the only restaurant/bar I know of and, conveniently, the only parking garage in our dinky little Main Street area. She insisted she’d parked on a street, not inside the garage, so I go around to the back where I know there’s some parking spots by the sidewalk.

Lo and behold, there’s her Cadillac.

Queue tears of joy - followed by more sobs of despair as she remembered the missing fob, and pulled fruitlessly at the locked door handles. I pull out my phone to look up a number for a local locksmith who’d come out to us. She calls her partner again, to let him know the car was found. Cries harder again after hanging up. For the second time, I find myself letting this woman - complete stranger, still don’t know her name - hug me and cry on my shoulder.

She calmed down a bit once I got ahold of someone who said they could send a driver in half an hour. Then the lament for a cigarette started up. I’m asked if there’s a nearby gas station - maybe half a mile up the main road to the highway - and then if I’ll go get a pack for her. I’m, uh. Not comfortable agreeing to that, for personal reasons, so instead I drive her up there. On our way back the locksmith dispatcher calls, apologizing, saying it’s gonna be closer to eight or nine before he can get someone to us - maybe sooner if anybody wakes up early. I thank him, don’t give any details to my new friend (she’d burst out into tears earlier when the first company I tried said they couldn’t do anything until 7) and just get us back to the parking space beside her car.

(It should be noted, I made sure to ask her if it was safe to go back to her partner, and she blinked before bursting out laughing. “Shit, yeah, he’s a pussycat. And I know he’s not really angry with me, it’s just that I’m beating myself up over being so stupid, y’know?” I know. Believe me, I know.)

So. She smokes on the sidewalk, I get out my drawing stuff since dawn is breaking and it’s light enough to see the page. She finishes smoking, flops down into my passenger seat, and zonks out so hard I could practically see the sleepy Zzz’s coming out of her mouth.

I focus on coloring in some inked sketches for the next hour and a half or so.

About - 7:30, 7:40, get another call, this time from the actual guy driving around looking for us. I manage to establish our location for him: ”Can you tell me the actual address?” He asked three times. “I don’t know it, we’re next to the public parking garage at the intersection of this avenue and this street,” I explained twice. “Uhh... oh, is that by the library?” “Yep.” “Gotcha, we’ll be there in seven minutes.”

New friend starts to wake up right around the time this guy and his wife pull up. I figure we’re in the home stretch: out comes the little inflatable pouch to force the window out a sliver, and the long bendy pole to push down on the unlock switch.

Except.

The damn. Thing. Won’t. Work.

Ten minutes of cursing and wiggling, but because of the Cadillac’s arm rest design, he can trigger the UN-lock side of the button, but not the other. Tries reaching the other way to get the button on the back door. Tries coming around to the passenger side. Tries opening the center console to fish out the actual keys. Complains that the Cadillac he dealt with yesterday, just ONE YEAR different from this model, went so much easier.

Finally, FINALLY, he grabs a different tool, the little grabber arm, and after a few repeated attempts, manages to grab the pin of the actual lock and tug it upward. Car alarm goes off, of course, but my new friend is at least able to promptly clamber in, grab the keys, and shut it off.

Holy fucking shit.

She pays the guy and thanks him profusely, hugs me long and hard again, and then PULLS OUT A DIABETIC KIT TO CHECK HER BLOOD SUGAR LEVELS. I’M- JUST- WHAT.

“Oh my levels are so off-” WELL NO WONDER I THOUGHT YOU WERE STILL DRUNK.

Goodness gracious, woman.

I get another hug, and she gratefully calls me an angel. I just laugh it off and say I was in the right place at the right time, because honestly, I spent way too much of the four hours we spent together internally begging her to stop repeating herself to be anything close to an angel.

Never did catch her name, either.

Now I’m back on my bench, eating a breakfast burger I got from the cafe, and lamenting the fact I won’t be able to tell my mom about this misadventure because I don’t want to admit I didn’t go to work this morning. But y’know what? I’m glad I didn’t, or that poor fool of a woman might’ve spent another three hours wandering up and down the street, searching for her car, one block over from where it was parked.

(Also got to reaffirm a decision I made several years ago: I am never touching alcohol in my life ever.)

[xacesxofxheartsx]

A Broken AC

Name: A Broken AC Fandom: Epic Seven Category: M/M Words:  1214 Pairing: Kayron/Vildred 

Vildred fanned himself with his hand as he laid sprawled on the couch, cursing the AC for breaking today, when the weather seemed to be at its hottest, for the third time that day. He glanced over at Kayron, who laid face down on the floor, for a brief moment before turning back to whatever the hell was playing on TV. He didn’t know, wasn’t really paying attention. The heat always did that to him, disrupting his focus and making it hard to concentrate. He was fine with summer, for the most part, but when it gets as hot as this—especially with a busted AC—he finds himself hating the season. “When did they say they would send someone down to fix it?” asked Vildred.

“The day after tomorrow,” his boyfriend responded and Vildred would have groaned in despair or frustration—or both—had he the energy to do so. Great. Two days of suffering with the only kind of relief being the buildings of their respective workplaces. But even that knowledge was not enough to cheer Vildred a little. Because cool though the workspace might be, outside was anything but. Perhaps having an inkling of what Vildred was thinking, Kayron said, “If you think this is bad, try living in Savara. It’s hot year round, even worse in summer.”

Vildred made a face at that, but said nothing because Kayron was right. Of course he was. “No thank you. I am fine. Although,” he took on a thoughtful expression, “I wouldn’t mind living in Duselnorc or Taranor.”

Kayron grunted. “Duselnorc, it’s always winter and you’re liable to freeze to death. Taranor is just...cold.” If asked, he would say no to ever moving to either place. Though he wasn’t fond of the summer, he was less fond of the cold. Autumn, spring—these were the seasons he liked best. He lifted his head to look at Vildred, smirking a little. “Besides, living there means leaving friends behind, having to get a new, and, in Duselnorc at least, the constant fear of frostbite.”

“Well, you have a point,” Vildred admitted. He adjusted himself so that he was fully on the couch, half-sitting with his legs drawn close, feet flat on the seats. “But it would be nice to not have to deal with the sweltering summer heat.”

“Frostbite in Duselnorc isn’t much better, Vildred.”

Kayron drew himself to his hands and knees then pushed himself upright. He moved over to the couch and raised an eyebrow at the younger man when he straightened his legs out to take up both free seats. Rolling his eyes, Kayron lifted them and sat down, placing the legs on his lap. Vildred stuck his tongue out and the older man responded to that by tickling one of his feet. Trying to not let out giggles, Vildred yanked his feet back, glaring at his boyfriend, who only gave him an amused look in return.

“You’re awful,” muttered Vildred, as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable.

“Did I ever say I wasn’t?” The teasing tone earned the older man a sharp poke in the arm. Kayron twisted to be facing the younger man more and leaned forward until he could place an arm on either side of his head. Once, twice, three times he gave Vildred a soft kiss. Vildred murmured something about it being too hot for kisses and being this close together once the other man pulled away. “But not, apparently, for ankle socks,” Kayron remarked looking down at the other’s feet.

“They’re thin and lightweight,” Vildred sniffed.

“If you say so.”

“I do indeed.” Vildred lightly flicked Kayron’s nose, smiling a little. Another soft, short kiss and he’s pushing the other back to put more space between them, wanting to get up to grab some nice, cold ice water in the hopes that it would help him cool off.  “Do you want some ice water too?” he asked Kayron over his should as he stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab the water pitcher, grabbed the ice cube tray from the freezer, and proceeded to grab a cup, and then another one when Kayron replied, “That would be nice.”

A moment later, the younger man came back out to the sitting room and handed one of the cups to the older man, who took it from him gratefully. Vildred sat back down next to him once again, slowly sipping at his drink, intent on enjoying it. Maybe it would cool him down for a short moment, but even temporary relief from the heat was better than none. Stupid AC, he thought, breaking when they needed it most. “Did the weatherman say how long this heatwave would last?”

“A week. Maybe two,” Kayron replies. “But I don’t put much stock in meteorologists anymore.” He hasn’t since two springs ago, where they had planned a park picnic. The weatherman had said it would be nice all day, but lo and behold it wasn’t. In fact, it had started raining the moment they had arrived at the park. Kayron hasn’t trusted the weather channel ever since. Not completely at least. Vildred thought he was being too harsh on them; after all, nothing—people especially—was perfect. Not even the report of meteorologists.

“They’re not always right,” Vildred hummed, twisting himself so he can throw his legs, once again, over his boyfriend’s lap, which earned him a look. “So it’s not fair to hold it against them when their predictions turn out to be not a hundred percent.”

Kayron grunted, but gave no response; opting instead to simply keep sipping his glass of water. For his part, Vildred grabbed the remote for the sake of changing the channel, needing something to occupy himself with to take his mind off the heat. He flipped through channels until, at random, he settled on one that played movies from the sixties and seventies. When his boyfriend shot him a questioning look, Vildred shrugged, saying, “I just need something to do with my time.”

“Something to do...In that case,” Kayron pushed the younger man’s legs off of him so that he could stand up, glass of water in hand, “I need to get started on finishing that paperwork. No sense putting it off any longer today.”

“I thought you would have finished that as soon as you got home from work yesterday, Mister Mortician.”

“I would have had the caffeine crash not come up with me.” Kayron made to leave the sitting room but Vildred scrambled to his feet hurriedly so that he could take a hold of the older man’s arm and gave him a kiss, murmuring, “Try not to overwork yourself, especially in this heat.”

“Noted,” murmured Kayron in return, “though I make no promises.” With that he pulled away so that he could go to his office while Vildred returned to the couch.

Two days of summer heat with no AC. They were going to be a long two days, Vildred thought as he resumed laying on the couch, wrapping his arms around a pillow as he turned his attention to whatever movie was playing, and had he said those words out loud — and loud enough for the other man to hear — he thinks Kayron would have agreed with him.

Notes:

[gingerwritess]

Sugared Liar

hope u enjoy my trashy writing lol. sorry if there are any typos, i wrote this on my phone!

--

You felt shorted, in a sense. The aching, background feeling of betrayal seeping through your veins and curling around your heart. And, to be fair, who wouldn't, when such a thing that is now gripped so perfectly in your hand is suddenly at your fingertips--quite literally--and at your disposal? You felt shorted and cheated, and it was all to blame on one man; one person.

Then again, he had said that there were no other men like him.

You almost wept at the beauty of it--the utter deliciousness that came with such a fickle thing, too--and sighed as you coveted the package closer to your chest. You felt at peace, finally, after so much pain and unknown suffering and simple emptiness--but no more. Now, now you know true serenity. True comfort.

Until the door slammed open.

You shrieked, quite the humanoid sound, and swiveled around to face the door so quickly you were left in surprise that you didn't give yourself whiplash. But lo and behold, there he was, the man who was like no other man, the God that had oh-so knowingly put you through this new type of despair.

"Darling-"

Loki Laufeyson was the picture of panic in his melodramatic entrance, yet you were too blind to see it, you, too, coiled in a deep sense of panic that you blindly went to grip your new discovery, your new haven--and causing it to crackle.

His green eyes flashed to the package, your actual metaphorical child at this point, and felt a new sense of dread come over him.

"Before you say anything-"

"Say what, Loki?!" You practically shrieked, shoving the package up from its safe place for all eyes to see. Yes, the perfectly perfect piece of beauty, yes, the wonderful deliciousness it left inside you, yes, the thing that your boyfriend had been stealing away and actually hiding from you. The discovery thst caused all of this.

Brookside Chocolate Clusters.

"I feel betrayed--no, nO, YOU DON'T GET TO TALK YET--HOW LONG DID YOU PLAN ON KEEPING THESE TO YOURSELF, HM, LOKI?!"

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

my additions to this beautiful submission:

THIS IS THE CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR

AhhhhH CHOCOLATES??? You had me woRRIED. oh this was cute. so fluffy. so loki. UGH

thank you so much for submitting your work i LOVE to read you what guys write!!! and what do you mean trashy writing????? this was beautifully and eloquently written????!?!!?

YOU NAILED THIS BEB I LOVE IT AND YOU

[nomoregraydays]

Under The Stars (G.D fanfic) - Part 17 Shit Show

POV: First Person 

Word Count: 1784

****

This morning I felt especially out of shape for whatever reason. Though, I was used to the random feeling of despair in myself and tried to ignore it. A wave of lightheadedness consumed me as I hit the top of the stairs and I held the wooden railing for the seconds I needed to sustain myself. Not entirely weird or out of the ordinary for that to happen.

I continued on to the meeting room where some of my co-editors, the producer, and the director were. When I arrived, everyone was there and chatted with casual topics.

“Hey y’all.” I announced. “Sorry, I’m late.”

The director, Phil, smiled. “You’re just fine. Let’s get started.”

***

“That took less time than I thought.” Phil stated as he closed his binder that was full with the script papers.

I snorted under my breath. Yeah, three hours later isn’t a lot of time. Considering it was the last chunk of the script, yeah. I closed my binder and stuck it in my Starbucks canvas bag before I stood up, which resulted in another wave of lightheadedness. It was a lot more this time and caused me to sway back and forth.

Rachel, one of the other co-editors, rested a hand on my arm. “What’s wrong, Kat?”

“Don’t know..I think lack of food this morning. I’ll be fine.” I strapped my bag on my shoulder with a small smile.

“Okay..” She waited a few seconds before she let me go and left me to fend for myself.

I started to head out to the parking ramp, but decided I’d see where Chanelle was at with her schedule and maybe see if she’d want to get a late lunch. I knocked on the outside of the door as I opened it.

She held up a finger as she was on the phone. I waited patiently until she hit end.

“Hey, wanna get lunch?”

She smiled as she adjusted her glasses. “Yeah, I’m down for that my dude. I need to stop at the ladies room first to change the womanly tortue products.”

I laughed lightly. “Alright.”

“Why do we even need this monthly week long reminder? Like I get it, I’m not pregnant. No need for me to keep bleeding for days.” Chanelle ranted as she gathered her jacket and bag.

“Mmhm.” I agreed.

I waited as she changed, my mind warring her words. I’ve definitely spoken them before and agree, but the little reminder is nice. I chewed on my lip a little, feeling my pulse go faster.

Shit.

“Kat? You don’t look so good.”

A hoarse, short laugh left me. “I...I think I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes went wide.”What?”

Subconsciously, my leg began to shake and I bit at my nails.

She shot me look. “Come on. We’ll eat, you go get tests, and then find Gray.”

“Okay.” I nodded shortly.

I’d say it’s been roughly a week since we last had sex and I know we used protection. It’s never fool proof though.

***

I felt sicker than ever as I walked into the boys’ house. I just want to know what the verdict is. You’d think my body and brain would work together so I’d know for sure. But then there wouldn’t be a need or reason for pregnancy tests now would there?

I walked from room to room slowly to find one of them. If I found Gray first, that would be ideal. But eventually Ethan will know, it’s only fair since Chanelle knows and Gray will know.

Low and behold, I found Ethan first in the gaming room, playing Fortnite. He caught a glimpse of me in the reflection of the screen and paused the game, swiveling around.

“What’s up, Kat?”

I scratched part of my neck. “Uh.. do you know where Gray is?”

“He went out to get some food. He should be back soon. Why didn’t you message him?”

Cause this isn’t something I should just drop on him over a text or call.

I cleared my throat. “There’s something I need to tell him, and it definitely shouldn’t be over a text or call.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?” I furrowed my eyebrows. Chanelle promised not to tell Ethan yet.

His eyes went wide and he shot out of the chair as his hands raked through his fluffy hair. “I was kidding! Are you fucking serious?”

“Oh… Uh, yeah.. I’m not positive yet. I’m waiting to take a test after I tell Gray and then we can do it together.”

“Fuck! What the hell? Are you two just not using protection or some shit?”

I let out a deep breath and rolled my eyes. “Ethan, calm the fuck down. We’re not that stupid. It’s not one hundred percent effective, you know.”

He laughed hysterically, his hands still in his hair, and he paced the room. God, he’s gotta be so extra, but I think he’s actually have a panic attack.

I walked over to set my hands on his shoulders, despite how I was feeling. “Seriously, E, it’s gonna be okay... If I am, I will give Gray the option to duck out. You guys are too young for this, I’d understand if he wouldn’t want to stay around. I’ll take all the heat.” The words left me before I fully thought them through, but I felt that they were right. I don’t want to put that much pressure on Grayson, or Ethan since he’s always around.

He looked me in the eyes now and dropped his hands to his sides before pulling me in for a hug. “Thank you.”

His words stung a little. I understand though.

“What’s going on in here..?”

I pulled back to look at my boyfriend.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Nothing, bro.” He glanced at me again then pointed to the exit. “I’m just gonna..yeah.”

Gray laughed under his breath. “What’s with him?”

My heart began to pound in my throat again as I looked him in the eyes. I reached up to brush back some of his floppy hair, then ran my hand down his cheek and rubbed it on the scruff he had growing again. “Gray..I might be pregnant.” The words blurted out before I could back out and just make up some excuse to leave, then take the test on my own and possibly break it off to not drag him in. I don’t know which is the better option, but it’s too late now.

The hand he had placed on my side divot tightened and he stood paralyzed. Almost like a deer looking into headlights and it doesn’t seem like his demeanor is going to change anytime soon.

I cleared my throat. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’ve already decided if I am pregnant that I’m going to leave, go back home, and do this on my own.” Some tears piled up in my eyes and I leaned in to give him a kiss on the chest as some of them fell.

In response, his arms tightened around me in a protective hug and he kissed my head. “You’re not doing that. I won’t let you.”

“But Gray.. you’re so young, you’ve got a career to keep building up. I don’t want to drag you into this. It’ll be okay.”

I swear I don’t think he could squeeze me more. “You’re not leaving. We’ll do this together.” He sounded like he was crying now, which only made me shake more. There’s no changing his mind, even if he really isn’t ready and is scared. I mean, I’m feeling the same.

I don’t know how long we stood there with Grayson holding me. We’d both stopped crying and were silent.

Finally, I willed myself to pull out of his touch and wiped the feeling of dry tears from my eyes. “I guess we better take the test.”

***

I impatiently waited for my body to tell my mind that I needed to pee. When peeing puts a life changing decision on the line, you’d think it’d come quicker.

I sighed heavily before jumping at the sudden urge. I snatched the stick off the bedside table and ran down the hall to the bathroom. I did my best to not hit my hand and get a good amount on the stick--it’s not that easy.

I set the stick on the counter after putting the cap back on the end and washed my hands. I had the oval side facing up, but couldn’t handle it. I flipped it over to face down and paced back and forth in the hall. Grayson stuck his head out of the bedroom.

“What is it?”

I shot him a look. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be pacing.”

“Sorry..”

I didn’t feel the need to respond. I don’t even remember how long we’re supposed to wait before the results should be there. My mind raced and suddenly the idea of baby names popped into my head. Dear lord, we are not doing some shit name like “North” or “Bear”. The baby can have Grayson’s last name. I think Cara or Carter would be okay names. Of course, if Grayson has ideas I’m all ears.

Can I look now? I should either way.

I stopped my pacing in front of the counter. A shaky hand reached for the test and I found myself jumping back.

“I can’t do it, Gray. I can’t look.”

His presence filled the bathroom and he wrapped an arm around me. He took a deep breath before reaching for it. “Ready?”

“Do it either way.” I replied.

He picked up the stick and flipped it over. A negative sign filled my eyes and I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

“Oh, thank God!” I exclaimed.

Gray let out a shaky breath, sort of laughing a bit. “Definitely that.”

Now, a laugh mixed into my cries and I hugged him. “I can’t lie, I’d started thinking of baby names because I didn’t want ours to have some name like North.”

“Really?” He pulled back to look at me now, shocked. “What were they?”

“Yeah.” I blushed. “Maybe Cara or Carter. Your last name. If a girl, I would’ve liked if she took my Grandma’s maiden name as her middle name.”

His eyes went wide. “You would’ve wanted the baby to have just my last name?”

“Of course.” I smiled and leaned in to peck him on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Gray wrapped me in another hug and squeezed. 

I sighed heavily. “We should go tell the other two. I promised Chanelle she’d be next to know once we knew.” 

He chuckled, leaving a kiss on my head. “Okay.”

Next: Bless You (Part 18)

[nellie-elizabeth]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend: Josh's Ex-Girlfriend Is Crazy (3x04)

This. Was. Incredible. I don't know that I can think of any other show on television that has managed to be as daring and controversial. I mean, think about it - this show is billed as a comedy musical, and this most recent episode had me laughing out loud several times... but then think about what actually happened here. It's dark! It's intense! I cannot wait to see where they take this.

Cons:

I only have one tiny thing to say, and this isn't so much a true complaint about the episode as it is a fear for the future. Darryl and WhiJo finally realize that the question of children is an irreconcilable difference between them. It looks like their relationship might not survive this. I really, really do not want them to break up, because I think a breakup will signify a decrease in White Josh's screen time, which is already too little, if you ask me. If they can find a way to continue his presence on the show in a meaningful way even if they break up, then I'll be sad... but I'll be okay with it.

Pros:

Literally everything else was gold. Where to start? Rebecca hits rock bottom in this episode, and it's Rachel Bloom at her finest. The opening scene features Rebecca tearing in to her friends, saying horrible, vicious things to everybody. She tells Paula that she's the crazy one, and that she needs to stop acting like Rebecca is her daughter. She tells Heather that she's aimless, accuses Valencia of foisting her own dream wedding onto Rebecca because nobody wants to marry her, tells Darryl to get his head out of his ass and admit that his boyfriend doesn't want to have a kid, and even accuses Nathaniel of conspiring against her. It's a scene that's literally uncomfortable to watch. There's nothing to lighten the mood - there's no sitcom double-take or comical expressions of righteous indignation. Rebecca, in this moment, is absolutely horrible to all of the people that care about her, and nothing is done to soften that.

Rebecca ends up hanging out with a random Danish tourist (Rory O'Malley! Yay!) and the two bond over a Danish-American actress. This inspires Rebecca to construct her very own revenge movie so she can get back at Josh. And here's what makes this episode so brilliant - yeah, the horror movie cliches and the title sequence song are funny, but they're actually also genuinely sinister. I like that Josh seems to be actually upset and disturbed by all of Rebecca's actions. She hides outside his house, frames him for theft at work, and even threatens to hurt his mother... and it's not funny. It's not funny to Josh and it's not funny to the audience, even as we do laugh at the individual jokes. This is brilliant. The show is taking itself seriously in a very real way.

One obvious example of this serious tone is the conversation between Paula and Valencia as they're out searching for Rebecca. Paula's behavior has always been treated as wacky antics in the past. Her craziness was always funny, not disturbing. But here we see her admit to Valencia all of the horrible things that she did to her back when she and Rebecca were trying to sabotage her relationship with Josh, and it's... well, once again, it's not funny. Valencia just says "this sucks" in a very defeated tone of voice. Here we have a woman who has always had a hard time connecting with other women, and now she feels as if her new friendships are built on a broken foundation. I loved this moment of acknowledgment. I can see Valencia and Paula being really close, but these awful truths needed to come out before that could happen.

As much as this episode features a moment of utter defeat for Rebecca, it also features a turning point for Paula, who realizes that she's been a neglectful mother because she's focused so much of her energy on Rebecca. Again, this is an example of the show taking a pattern of behavior that has been played for laughs all along, and then forcing the audience to confront the reality of that. I hope to see more growth from Paula after this moment of realization.

A brief aside: Heather and Hector are super cute. Not sure if anything will come of this, but I love Heather to pieces and I want to see her find happiness. Their little scene out on the street looking for Rebecca filled me with so many warm fuzzies.

There were two moments in the episode that really blew me away. One is Josh and Rebecca's confrontation at the carnival. There's a moment where Rebecca nearly falls into a pit and to her death, thus giving her the ending that always befalls the deranged woman scorned in the movies that Rebecca is consciously parodying. Josh backs her up right to the edge, yelling at her, telling her that he's had enough. At the last moment he grabs her arm, saving her, and Rebecca tearfully tells Josh that she never actually would have hurt his mother... she just wanted to get his attention. She begs him to talk to her, says that he can't just erase all of the years they've known each other and been in each other's lives. Josh says he'll call the police if Rebecca comes near him or his family ever again. Yeah, what a fun comedy musical! This is the stuff of true genius. Josh isn't a funny dopey punchline in this scene. He's rightfully angry and scared.

The other stellar Emmy-worthy moment is when Rebecca gets butt-dialed by Greg. She has this moment where she relapses into the same pattern she's fallen into so many times before. Greg is calling! He must have sensed that she needed him! Everything will be okay now! But it was just a butt-dial, and she realizes in that moment that she was wrong to hope. The sheer volume of emotions Rebecca goes through in this brief moment is staggering to behold. Of course she then sees Greg's father, and goes to talk to him. She learns that Greg is sober and happy and has found a woman he really loves. So what does Rebecca do? Oh, you know. She sleeps with Greg's father.

Just the mention of Greg, and the hint that he might be calling Rebecca, was enough to make me miss him with a burning passion. I really do hope he can return to the show at some point. Rebecca sleeping with his dad is exactly the sort of thing that needed to happen in the story at this point. She's hit rock bottom, and there needs to be tangible story consequences for that. She's yelled at her friends, but we know her friends will forgive her. She's alienated Josh, but she'd already done that. Now, she's slept with someone she really shouldn't have slept with, and if and when Greg comes back, she's now done something so definite and wrong that he'll probably never forgive her either. It puts her at the extremity of despair.

And then we get "The End of the Movie," one of the best songs this show has ever produced. It's one of those statement songs, a banner moment to express the themes and ideas of the show, and appropriately, the lyrics evoke the futility of applying narrative sense to the chaos of real life. The lyrics are perfect, the montage is perfect. We see Paula staring mournfully at her phone, having just called Rebecca's mother to let her know that her daughter needs serious help. We see Darryl and WhiJo in bed, holding hands as they sadly contemplate the future of their relationship. We see Josh trying to write out his resume, having no idea what his future holds. We see Nathaniel hugging Rebecca's giant alligator stuffed animal, still waiting for her to show up back home in case she needs him. (Okay, personal side-note about Nathaniel? Oh My God, I Think I Like Him). Rebecca walks down a dark street as an unknown singer tells us that everyone believes they're the star of the movie, but sometimes you're just a random guy in the background... "like me, Josh Groooooban!!!" this reveal was comedically perfect. Josh Groban was seriously one of the best things in an episode so full of "best things" that I'm having trouble constraining myself from writing a whole dissertation on the brilliance of this show.

I guess I'll stop there. Wow, you guys. Wow. I can't even say anything more.

10/10

[lockandk3yfiction]

Title: Mathematical Equations

Date: June 1, 2017

Commissioned by @unashamed-shipper: Gajevy College AU

Pairing: Gajevy (mentioned Nalu)

Word Count: 1503

Summary: While lost in the Mathematics and Science Building, Levy finds her self colliding with a rather odd looking man. Who knew she would find him more than odd. 

Rated: K+

Read on ffn.

Request closed. Commissions open.

“MSC 109. MSC 109. Where is it?”

Murmurs filled the hall as a blue haired young woman strolled through the Mathematics and Science Building (MSC) of Magnolia University. Levy McGarden bowed her head, hazel brown eyes focused on the class schedule in her hands. Every now and then, Levy would lift her eyes to scan the open classrooms, looking for the doorway that read “109” up above it.

This was her first year in a university, studying at one of the most prestigious schools in Fiore. She was hopeful and prepared; enrolled in the necessary classes, taking the proper amount of units, even best friends with her roommate after just a week of moving into the dorms. And, yet, she could not find the one door that led to her calculus class.

“All of these classrooms are in the 300 range,” Levy paused in her steps, looking back on the empty hall as she attempted to process her thoughts. “MSC 109 must be in a different wing then, right?”

Just as she voiced this question, a rather loud metal clang was heard, the sound of a heavy hallway door closing on itself. Such noise frightened the girl, Levy pulling her head back before she met impact with a man almost twice her size. Sprinting through the hall was a fairly tall man, piercings adorning his face and long wild hair flying quickly behind him. With no warning the two bodies clashed, chest meeting forehead as they collided to the floor.

It hurt and it stung, Levy could only see black as she lay on the tile too scared to open her eyes.

“Hey. Hey, you!” A rough tone barked, so close to Levy’s face that she nearly thought she would lose hearing.

“Hey! Are you okay? Say something!” The sound softened a little, worry filling the speakers’ words.

Turning to her side, Levy struggled as she tried to sit up, a calloused hand that wasn’t her own placing itself upon her shoulder to try and steady her movements. Levy’s brows etched together as her eyelids slowly flittered open, vision slightly blurred. It took a moment or two before the nausea of hitting her head settled and she was able to see clearly again.

Before her, still clutching Levy’s shoulder to give support was the same figure that had been running down the hall. Up close he had the face of a delinquent and a scowl that could ward off predators, but the intensity of his stare as he watched Levy with concern made her pulse quicken.

“Oh! Uh, y- ow...”

The man raised a brow as Levy began to rub at the back of her head, scrunching her hair into a small bundle in the process. “Y-yeah… My head hurts a little but I’ll be fine…”

Levy flushed in embarrassment, her gaze elsewhere as the air between them became awkward. The silence was broken though when the man breathed out heavily, rising to his feet and offering a hand towards Levy. A smile formed on her face at the gesture, Levy allowing him to hoist her onto her feet before he had started walking down the hall in less haste. For an instance, Levy stood there, her eyes trailing the man as he further left the hall before a lightbulb went off in her mind.

“Hey, wait! Can you help me find something?!”

After a short walk, Levy found herself seated at a front desk of room 109 of the MSC Building, attention toward the board as the professor went over their syllabus. At the back of the class was the man who had ran into her earlier. He had yet to apologize, but now Levy acknowledge that his name was Gajeel Redfox and he was a second year in the engineering program. In Levy’s mind he seemed like an odd one and while the professor dragged on about late work and how assignments would be graded, Levy’s attention left the classroom and went towards him.

Levy wiggled her toes, a small pout on her lips as she complained to her roommate about how she was a hundred percent certain she got all the question on her last calculus exam correct but had missed one question when they came back graded.

“Ah! I was so close, Lucy!”

Said blonde giggled, leaning her back against the wall. The two sat on the smaller ones bed, chitchatting about this and that as time pass them by. The topics would change frequently as they spoke, giddiness and peacefulness filling the atmosphere as the two friends rambled on.

It was late one Sunday night, three weeks into the fall semester when Lucy received a text from her boyfriend. Natsu had messaged her during the girls’ routine conversation, informing them of Gajeels struggle in math and how Natsu had thought it would be a great opportunity for Levy to help his roommate as they shared the same class. Levy felt her heart racing at the idea; ever since first meeting Gajeel, Levy’s chest would warm at the sight of him and her imagination would attempt to create situations in which they can spend time together and, as of next Tuesday, that time would come.

“Tell Natsu I don’t wanna!” Levy wailed, shaking her head comically as to show her despair.

At this, Lucy sighed. Combing through her hair with her fingers, she mumbled to Levy about help it would give Gajeel and how the two may be able to get to know each other a little better. “It can’t be that bad right? Don’t you like Gajeel?”

Lips pursed in defiance, Levy refused to answer while continuing to scowl at the blue bed sheets beneath her.

The weekend passed. Monday came and gone, leaving Levy kicking her feet in anticipation and tapping at the desk she sat in frustration. The pout on her grew as each minute ticked by, waiting in solemn torture in one of the many group study rooms the library had to offer. More than once, Levy entertained the idea that Gajeel may not show yet, ‘lo and behold, he arrived that Tuesday afternoon on schedule.

“How do you not know basic algebra? Can you even learn calculus if you can’t find the answer to y?”

“Why do you we’re here? I’m asking for help! Don’t make fun of me!”

Gajeel’s expression startled Levy when he spoke. Somehow, he had looked embarrassed, cheeks slightly pink and jaw tense as his chin rested on the study table. Her eyes were open wide in mild wonder as she stared down at Gajeel from her position across from him. He looked like a lost puppy when it came to mathematics but somehow he looked cuter. A shy smile formed on Levy’s lip before she tapped at Gajeel’s forehead for attention.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go over the question again. What are you confused about?”

Their first lesson had gone over smoothly. Sure, Gajeel still did not understand quantum stochastics’ but who did on their first try? It had even taken a toll on Levy as she had tried to explain it the third time, mixing up words and losing her train of thought as numbers scrambled around her brain. What an interesting event that was.

Though, Levy could not say it was all so bad. Gajeel had become someone Levy thinks of fondly, finding his way into her social bubble easily. To finish off their study session, the two had secured their self a booth at the local tea shop where they skipped talk of math and began getting to know each other.

Levy learned that Gajeel was a heavy metal musician. She had also learned he was not that great a singer when he had given her a sold out one person audience concert. Waving her hand before in a nervous sweat, however, it was not as if she were brave enough to say such. They were not much of the same person.

Levy enjoyed books and quiet walks on the beach; whereas Gajeel enjoyed vintage films and listening to music when jogging near the park. Levy had never owned a pet but, surprisingly, Gajeel was a cat person. Levy liked her tea with rosemary and Gajeel preferred black coffee. They were two of the opposite coin, yet still Levy found her chest warming the more she knew. Calculus was her strong suit, but just maybe she wanted to learn the mathematical equations used in chemistry.

Eyes still glued toward Gajeel as he rambled on about the antics he and Natsu shared last night, ordering pizza from the parlor three miles away, hoping it would not arrive in thirty minutes or less, a gleam sparkled in Levy’s eyes. He looked happy, excited and was roaring with energy. Gajeel Redfox really was not a bad guy, she determined, slowly realizing that yes, she did like this guy.

[thejcshow]

My motivational writing and speeches!

The thought of happiness goes through all of our minds at some point. The challenges of facing the fears you have is having the courage to stand up and speak out. Not everyone has that skill. But said skill can be acquired through practice and explanation. You can’t build a bridge in a day. So don’t expect the bridge to happiness and success be built without any necessary actions. Nobody has a perfect life. There is always something that you have to face. Don’t sit there and take it. Stand up and speak out about your issues. If someone calls you different or weird try and understand that people are different no one has the same mental health disabilities and or illnesses. If someone calls you weird try and think about it in a way that helps you build on yourself. For example if someone says you’re weird or different. Think to yourself. You know what I am weird and I am different. But if I wasn’t the way I am today I wouldn’t be as unique as I am right now. Everybody has their strengths and weaknesses. But us as a society need to learn to accept the weaknesses and differences as others and not spread hatred and ignorance. It won’t happen fast. It’s a process but if everyone tries their best we can do it as a group.

The light shines brighter in the dark times. It reflects who you are and how you deal with the ups and downs. The little things count. Whether it’s getting up and smiling at yourself in the mirror or taking a small break to realize the accomplishments you have made. Life will always have issues. Nothing is impossible to overcome. If you try hard enough you will succeed

A good leader doesn’t zap people when they make mistakes. They reach out and teach the people who make mistakes. Just because someone does not know how to do something does not mean you should go out of your way and be rude/disrespectful. Be proud but kind. Be the change the world needs.

Depression can be hard.. it may never go away fully. But it will always be easier to understand. You need to accept yourself. In order to do that you need to accept who you are as a person and what you do, and how you do it. It’s hard had first. Trust me I know. Been to the hospital many times. Everyday is a new day. It doesn’t always feel like it and a lot of the time it will hurt the same. Teach yourself, do research understand what it is and how to go about it. Nothing is impossible. If you are passionate and ready for change. Buckle up

Life may be tough and the people around you may be lost on how to help you. But you are not alone. The more you push and try too hard the farther the light seems to be. Spurts of anger and despair may show throughout your days. But all is known. You can’t try and fix it without explaining and showing you are ready to fix the issue. It’s easier said than done but it is never impossible no matter how hard it seems. Just push yourself... not too much but enough to show the people around you that you’re trying

Life is a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions. The bad is what makes you strong the good is what makes you happy and the hardship is what makes you who you are today. Just because of a few bumps and bruises you get along the way should not mean you stop fighting for what is yours. Everyone deserves happiness no matter how far or close it seems you still have to work for it. If you really want it... you will get it

It’s the small things that will bring joy. Yea, maybe 2019 wasn’t your year and it sure as hell wasn’t mine. But life goes on. People leave people come people ignore and people laugh. Life will never be the same as the day before because you are doing something different everyday. Some small difference. Whether it’s adding a bit more sugar to your coffee. Yea... it sounds useless but it sweetens it. Be proud of who you are and what you do. Don’t let the adversity get you down and try your best to be methodical. By methodical I mean learn the small changes that improve your state of mind every day. Not everything will go away quick and don’t expect 100% of it to go away but it will improve

Life isn’t always easy for me but it’s not always easy for everyone else. It’s taken awhile for me to understand that. Not everything will go to plan and not everything will create new beginnings. You learn as you go along. Life is weird, but full of different opportunities. Don’t let the small things get to you. Dream big and spread joy. Live by that and you’ll be okay.

Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s a part of us. Family, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, wife’s and husbands it’s all the things we love. When you have it. You feel a sort of joy that is inevitably dangerous depending on the situation. Be yourself and everything will fall into place! You shouldn’t change who you just for the gratification of acceptance. You will find your passion and live to be an inspiration for someone. Don’t give up on the future nor the present. You will be okay. Just try, try and try again.

Miracles happen to those who try!

The truth of life is hidden behind many layers! Fight through the layers and you will behold the gracious truth

[captjameshookthoughts]

Here’s a bit more thing from the THING, but this part is like all about an OC so not gonna tag it or shit. Oh, Lo and behold I let my ideas get away from me and this is longer than I intended it to be. oops.

Another year, another summer, another birthday party for Lucy. Sunset at the pier, food, drink, a DJ, dancing, laughing, the constant clicking of cameras. She had just reached Twenty-five, these were the best years of Lucy's life. She had just received her first promotion at work, not that it mattered much. Her father and stepmother still covered most of her expenses, including this large party. She sat on her boyfriend's lap, laughing at a joke he had just made. This day was almost perfect. Almost. Her stepsister was sitting alone, looking over the pier towards the sea. Lucy had been forced to invite her, and Faith had been forced into attending. Lucy never did like her stepsister, had always found there to be something pathetic about her. Even as small children, before Faith had gotten sick, Lucy thought herself to be the better sister. Faith had taken piano, boring in Lucy's eyes. She didn't understand when family would ask to hear her fumble over the white and black keys like it was something special. Lucy had begged for dance lessons, and she had got them. She had performed at recitals, multiple times every year, always attended by family and friends. That was something worth watching, Lucy thought. She liked to show off her dances, until the lessons had been taken away. That's when she really started to hate her stepsister. If Faith had just kept her mouth shut, Lucy could have kept going to dance.

Lucy's father had tried to explain that it had been Faith's grandmother who had been paying for the dance lessons, and there was nothing he could do about it. He confided in her that he thought it was unfair how she was being punished for simple childish teasing and jokes. He even tried to pressure Faith into asking her grandmother to change her mind. Simon was always on his daughter's side. She was his little princess, perfect in every way, he gave her everything she wanted. When Faith became sick, he gave Lucy even more. He was so afraid that she would feel pushed aside with the extra attention Faith would need. Faith got company at the hospital, Lucy was given new toys, clothes, a laptop, eventually she was even given a car. Simon thought that this was equal, and he taught Lucy that it was too.

Extravagant and expensive birthday parties were one of the many things given to Lucy over the years. She enjoyed being centre of attention. It was the only way she had ever learned to feel loved, the thing that made her feel wanted. It was good for her, that she had looks that were hard to ignore. Tall, platinum blonde, and very thin, Lucy turned heads wherever she went. She was the type of attractive that made others ignore her faults. Faith was not exactly unattractive, in fact, some people would go as far as to call her beautiful. Faith never believed them, though. How could she when for the best part of two decades she had a stepsister delighting in telling her just how ugly she was.

Faith wasn't much of a 'party' person at the best of times, she didn't like being surrounded by so many people, always feeling like she took up too much space. This party in particular somehow made her anxieties worse. The summer heat and humidity felt oppressive, and the constant noise and chatter overwhelmed her senses.

Beeeeep

Faith startled at the alarm coming from her phone. The evening reminder for her medications. She sighed and reached into her jacket pocket for the small plastic box containing five different tablets. She opened it carefully and took all of the pills at once, quickly so that she could go unnoticed. She hated being asked about all that was wrong with her.

Another beep.

Faith looked at her phone and smiled. A message from her Bubbe.

"How are you holding up? X"

"I just want to go home." Faith admitted.

"Is it that bad?"

"Worse."

"I'm sorry. Would it make you feel better if I told you I am going to bake your favourite for when you come to visit?"

Faith let out a small laugh, Bubbe Moskavich always resorted to food when people weren't feeling great.

"I can't wait for Shabbos." Faith told her, happily. 

Although she wasn't exactly observant, and she hadn't even prayed outside of Synagogue services since she was very young, Faith was proudly Jewish. Her Bubbe always tried to encourage her to be more involved with Shul, but it never stuck. Faith inwardly felt quite upset with the almighty for having given her this life. When she was young she would pray, begging to be made beautiful, talented, healthy, or just even worth something. What she really wanted was to be equal to her stepsister, but as a child she hadn't been able to articulate that properly to the people who could change things. Her mother often scolded her for jealousy and pettiness, and she felt like God wasn't listening either, so Faith just stopped asking. It felt like an eternity since Faith had last prayed to ask for help. Life had taught her that help wouldn't come.

Suddenly there was quiet, the birthday cake had been brought out, the guests started to sing. Lucy looked almost angelic in the candlelight, smiling and surrounded by people who loved her. Faith looked away, a strange ache pushed at her chest, no one had ever looked at her the way Lucy's guests were looking at her, no even Faith's own friends or any of her exes. That moment made her feel so small and insignificant.

"I'm nothing." She thought to herself, "alone."

Faith looked back out to the sea below and closed her eyes and silently begged any God, any deity, any being who might listen for help.

"Please. I don't want to be alone anymore." She pleaded, “I don’t want... this.”

She wasn't expecting a miracle, she wasn't expecting anything at all, but opening her eyes to find the pier, the sea, and the party once more filled Faith with disappointment. She sighed deeply, shaking her head trying to force her thoughts to stop. That's what she needed right then, to just stop thinking. A bottle of vodka had fallen from a table and had rolled to where Faith was sat. She wasn't supposed to drink alcohol with her medications, but Faith didn't care. In the moment all she wanted was to stop thinking, and vodka felt like the key to achieving that goal. She took hold of the bottle and started drinking, the cheap alcohol burning her throat.

At first, Faith felt light and giggly, she kept drinking. She drank until the night blurred and faded away into darkness.

Darkness can be many things, it can be fear, loneliness, despair. It can also be softness, security, and hope. Faith had suffered terribly from nightmares as a child. All those years ago darkness brought her only fear. As an adult, she found a certain sense of honesty lived within the darkness. When there was darkness there was no pretense, no need to act a certain way or ignore aspects of herself, she could just be. Faith's head spun, she should never have drank so much, she rubbed at her closed eyes. They stung so much, her arms stung too. Her whole body ached. The pain was so present it distracted her from the feeling that something was very wrong. Had she been of clear mind, Faith would have noticed straight away. She opened her eyes and one type of darkness turned into another, like a grey daytime storm becoming a calm night. Upon opening her eyes, Faith saw a clear nights sky dotted with stars, the darkness pure and untouched by the light pollution she was so familiar with. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to this darkness, and several more for Faith to register her surroundings. She sat up with a groan, even this small movement made her head spin more. It was as she pushed herself forwards with her hands that she realised that she had been laying on sand, with that realisation everything else came into focus. The smell of the ocean, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, the dampness of her clothes, and her shoes were missing.

Faith swore at herself for her stupidity. How had she let herself get so drunk that she left the pier? Faith didn't recognise this beach at all, but she was sure that she must still be on the same beach that was home to the pier. Anything else would be impossible. She turned her head, trying to spot the distant lights, but there were none to be seen. She swore once more. It wouldn't have been the first time Lucy had taken her somewhere and left her there as some sort of 'prank'. That hadn't happened in years though, it was impossible for Lucy to convince Faith to leave with her without alcohol having been consumed.

"You utter fucking donkey." Faith admonished herself, remembering Lucy's twentieth birthday party. Faith had accepted a cocktail from her stepsister, she didn't think for a moment that it would be unsafe. She didn't think Lucy would dare be so cruel with so many people around. Of course she had been wrong, and the drink had been spiked. Faith didn't remember much of that night after finishing the drink, just being locked in the rental houses basement. Alone and afraid. The aftermath was worse, though. The aftermath taught Faith that she couldn't trust her mother or stepfather anymore. Faith had passed out when they found her, she should have been taken to a hospital, but they didn't want Lucy to get in trouble. They called the situation a 'joke gone wrong'. Lucy had cried her crocodile tears about how she didn't mean it, and she didn't know it could go badly and then tried to justify herself to Faith with:

"You know how I am when I drink."

That was just Lucy, though. She would always insist that she didn't mean it, or didn't know what she did was bad. People believed her. That was the thing, although she was attractive and popular, Lucy wasn't very intelligent. As a very young child, she often didn't understand how her actions could hurt others, so she often went unpunished. Faith was less than a year older than her stepsister, but all through her childhood she had been told to be the bigger person, that she had to make allowances for her stepsister. She was the older sister after all, and as she did so much better in school she couldn't possibly understand the struggles Lucy had. Faith wouldn't have minded so much if things had changed as they got older, but it all just stayed the same. Even now, Faith was sure that in the morning she would have to listen to the excuses from both Lucy and their parents. Lucy would say that she was just trying to have some fun, that it's not her fault that Faith didn't think it was funny. Then Faith's mother would tell her that being angry or upset is an overreaction and Simon would tell her that she needs to learn how to laugh at herself and be grateful that she was involved in the party at all.

Faith took a deep breath and reached into her jacket pocket for her phone. There was no point putting off the inevitable. She would have to call someone to come get her. She didn't know where she was exactly, whoever she called would have to ask Lucy. That was the plan, it would have been an okay plan if Faith still had her phone. She searched every pocket in the old military jacket, finding her pill box, her small instant camera and film packs, a compact mirror, and a tube of red lipstick, but her phone wasn't there. Faith swore loudly out of frustration and decided that she would finally be taking up her Bubbe's offer to move into her London bungalow regardless of her mother's disapproval.

"I'm done." Faith said aloud, "just done."

She closed her eyes, thinking of what she could do, she didn't know where she was. She didn't what time it was or if the party was still going. She told herself that the party must still be going, it had to be, if it had ended then someone would notice she was gone and would come looking for her. Faith laid back down, waiting to be found. At least it wasn't a cold night.

"Faith." A voice called out.

Faith's eyes snapped open and she sat up, peering into the darkness trying to see who was calling to her.

"Faith." This time multiple voices called to her. She didn't recognise a single voice among them.

"Who's there?" Faith asked the darkness.

"A friend, help, guide."

"Wha-"

"Get up." The voices said, their tone commanding but not unkind.

"I can't." Faith argued, "I-"

"You can."

Suddenly a gust of wind surrounded her, strong enough to lift Faith from the sand to her feet. She could feel the wind closing around her. The closer it got, the more her pains were eased. Faith didn't understand, it didn't make sense. She had been annoyed before, angry, and frustrated. Now she was terrified. She span around, desperate to see something, anything that might help her make sense of this, or at least see who had spoke to her. All she saw was the silhouette of a large rock formation and trees.

Trees? Faith questioned her sight, she didn't know there were trees anywhere near this beach, there wasn't trees there. She knew that, she had lived locally since she had been seventeen.

"Where am I?" Faith thought out loud. She wanted to cry, feeling lonelier than she had earlier that evening. Something very bad must have happened to her, something very bad was happening to her. She didn’t know what to do.

“Walk.” the voices spoke again, their tone a whisper, only heard by Faith. She covered her ears, trying to block out the noise. She was sure she must be going mad, hallucinating, in a coma. This couldn’t be real. The only explanation was that the alcohol she consumed had reacted very badly with her medication. She couldn’t possibly be so far from home. 

“Am I dead?” She asked the voices around her, finally believing she had it all worked out. She was dead, and this was the afterlife.

“No. Now walk.”

“I- how- where?” Faith said, giving in to the strangeness of the night.

“Onwards.”

This direction wasn’t exactly helpful, Faith stood stubbornly still for a second, trying to decide which way to go. Before she could make up her mind, the decision was taken away from her, another gust of wind came and pushed her forward. Towards the rocks.

On and on, one unsteady foot in front of another, Faith walked across the sand. The more she walked, the further away the rocks seemed. She thought that she might never reach them at all. Despite her fears, Faith did reach the rocks. She stopped and leaned against them, head still spinning. Just as she thought that this night could not get any worse, it did. The heavens opened a torrent of rain.

“Oh, come ON.” Faith shouted, her frustrations boiling over. Although she often dreamed about running away to a distant land, and her life changing suddenly, this was not what she had in mind.

The sky lit up from a lightening bolt unlike any other Faith had seen before, and as it did, for the briefest of seconds something was reflected on the rocks she was leaning against. Faith peered towards the spot that had lit up, hoping for another strike so that she might see this peculiar thing properly. She didn’t have to wait long, the storm had come closer and just as quickly as the last flash, Lightning struck again, and Faith saw it. Glassy, and unfocused, the reflection had been against an eyeball the size of her fist. Faith took a step back. This wasn’t a rock formation at all, but some sort of creature. With the next flash, she was able to see the entire beast. A crocodile, but bigger, and more terrifying than any crocodile should be, and it was dead. Something had managed to kill something so monstrous. Faith was terrified, but it was that fear that motivated her to walk past the crocodile. She was determined to get away from this beach. She felt hopeless, like there was no point to her walking, like she was getting nowhere at all, until she saw it.

In the distance, there were dim lights. She hadn’t been so far from the party after all. At least, that’s what Faith wanted to believe.

[manicanhaus]

Neil

By Abigail George Neil. Neil with the face made of iron. Ripples of light in your eyes. Neil envious of others. Sandra, envious of girls or women in this situation. Envious of the desert, of the sky, of moonlight, of the violent, burnt grass in daylight. Neil’s hand touches Sandra’s neck. Hand itching to touch neck. Neck itching for touch. The cold out is a blue place. A purple sea. It is a marvellous place to behold. Sandra’s body is tangled in Neil’s warmth and shallow breath. In the swimming pool, she’s blue and her hair made of gnarled oak smells like chlorine. Nobody knows of the greatness of Neil’s despair and the tragedy of his hardship from birth. All Sandra knows of Neil is that he’s a journalist. Their making love was just for fun. A game. ‘You’ve ruined me for love for life, Neil. Neil are you listening to me? In the daylight, the sun makes a mockery of everything that was sacred the night before.’ ‘The sun in all of its epic vastness always alters everything in sunlight. Sometimes people can be ghosts. Most people are. Always floating out of reach when you want them to stay.’ ‘Who on earth are you talking about now, babe, Neil, are you okay?’ ‘Neil, Neil, Neil, the superior man. Sandra, the inferior, submissive woman playing the role of the inferior and submissive woman who bathes in the glory of light. Did you like the perfume I got you?’ Sandra nodded her head and smiled at her reflection in the dressing table’s mirror. ‘I’m not boyfriend material.’ ‘Is it because you’re damaged goods, Neil? Did you mother never read you a bedtime story at night, tuck you in and tell you how much you were loved?’ ‘My mother loved men. She loved everything about them. Good guys. Bad guys. Holier than thou guys.’ ‘And your father, Neil? Did your mother love your father?’ Sandra stopped brushing the tangles out of her hair. She stopped looking at Neil’s handsome face and his unkempt, tousled yellow hair in the mirror and turned around to look at him, properly. He was smoking. ‘I didn’t know you were a smoker.’ ‘Yes, yes, I am a smoker. I drink too.’ ‘Well, most men in the patriarchal society that we live in today smoke and drink. Smoke away if it makes you happy.’ ‘I’ll stop. I’ll put it out if it will make you happy.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.’ Sandra went back to brushing her hair. Patting her hair. Smoothing a stray curl here and there. ‘Do you still want to go swimming in the hotel pool later on?’ ‘Oh, I don’t know. Must we? Couldn’t we just stay here. Make our own fun.’ Sandra looked at Neil, with a slow smile on her face and a blush creeping onto her face. ‘Neil, anything you want, babe. I don’t mind. I’m easy. It’s too hot to swim.’ ‘It’s too hot to do anything but smoke and have a drink. Should we order room service? Hamburgers or a steak? Milkshakes or cocktails?’ ‘Proper grown up food, you mean? Steak and cocktails are proper grown up food. No, let’s act like kids. Like teenagers on a rampage or a road trip or on a Saturday night. Hamburgers and a pink milkshake for me please.’ Sandra laughed. Neil liked her laugh. He smiled. ‘Hamburgers and milkshakes then. You make me feel like a kid again. A kid in nature.’ ‘I like your laugh.’ ‘I like you Neil. You’re handsome for one who thinks they’re dead cool. You’re funny without being patronising or patriarchal or condescending or undermining me as a woman. You listen. You really listen to me. You’re sweet. I know men don’t really want to hear that one, but you are.’ ‘When are you going to stop brushing your hair and come and sit next to me?’ ‘In a minute. Give me a minute. You should order, anyway, shouldn’t you? Come to think of it. I’m starving.’ ‘Do you like it here?’ ‘Yes, yes I do. Thanks for inviting me.’ ‘It’s only two days. Two days can go buy really fast but it’s really beautiful out here. I love the mountains. Used to be heavy into hiking trails and stuff in high school but now I just come to the mountains for the view. To get a fresh perspective.’ Neil watched her slow, careful hands and a flame of desire for her started to burn within him. He liked her. He really liked her. She was fun to be around with. Like she said, she didn’t really mind if he smoked. She didn’t mind if he didn’t make conversation. Neil thought of his mother. Of just how much Sandra did and didn’t remind him of Gerda. He thought of his adolescence. Sandra was fluent in the language of good clothes and the sexual impulse. She was some kind of model, television presenter and actress. Neil hadn’t seen anything that she in. He didn’t know if she was a good actress, showed any promise or a bad one. She mentioned Shakespeare in Park. Some stage works. That she had always been on the stage ever since childhood. School. ‘Say this, this is mine but I’m not yours and I do not belong to you,’ was the burning issue of Neil’s mind. ‘I am falling then I am numb and then I am dead. Shakespeare sure had a way with words, don’t you think, Neil?’ ‘Whose words were that?’ ‘Mine. That’s how I feel sometimes after I make love with someone new and think that it’s something special. A new relationship that could turn serious. The old me falls away. Simply fades away and I feel like a girl again.’ Her breasts are two pale white stones. She seems to know everything about him. At least when it came to lonely people. Lonely men. She doesn’t believe him when he tells her how wonderful and beautiful and lovely she is. She tells him that she has no self-concept. That all actresses are insecure. That all television presenters have this game that they play. To be relevant and seen. She turns her head away. There’s a tide in her eyes. This confident woman in black whom he first met at an art exhibition of a mutual friend, had a current in her hands the first time she touched him. She’s asleep now. She’s dead to the world, while the man, Neil, smokes another cigarette. Gerda, his mother used to smoke menthols. Pop a mint in her mouth afterwards. The television is on mute in the hotel room. The leftovers of room service are getting cold. In the nightfall, the woman, Sandra, is the colour of moonlight and the bedroom in Hillbrow is neon-lit. Flesh is the prize. The flame of the sexual impulse found in the wilderness of the male beast and the breasts of the female. Gerda had flaws. Neil thought to himself. He wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot. Son like mother, Neil thought to himself. Neil loved women. Women had always been his weakness. Their legs were like summer. Their perfume sent him into overdrive. Sandra was different from the others. She wasn’t the older, motherly type that Neil usually went for. She was a girl but she could hold him hostage in her arms. Wipe away his tears. ‘You’re more than a man to me,’ Sandra whispered in his ear. ‘if you’re man enough to cry in my arms.’    Yours sincerely,    Abigail George