#doesn't seem to come up often though. certainly i don't know anyone who cries as much as i do.

[averinthine]

i would make a really good 'person who holds you while you cry' i think. not only am i quite good at holding people in general, but also anyone who has unlocked being held by me while they cry will have definitely already seen me crying many times over basically nothing, so they can hopefully trust i'm not judging them even if they're crying for a very silly reason.

[snaggletoothedbastard]

I wrote an entire fucking essay in the middle of the night, help me

Here it is:

"Frodo's not a hero"

So many people have said this and I hate it, because it doesn't make sense. And I'm saying this as someone who used to agree with these people. I saw a few posts on social media criticising Frodo a couple of years ago, and because I hadn't seen the films many times and was a bit gullible, I thought they were right. Then later I actually thought about it, properly, and I realised it was kind of stupid. And the more I thought about it, the more stupid it sounded.

I've tried to figure out the reasons for people to have this opinion. I think the biggest ones I've seen are toxic masculinity, and the belief that in order to be a good character, you have to be 100% perfect.

Let's start with toxic masculinity. We probably all know what it is: the idea that doing anything typically associated with feminity makes a man weak, or stupid, or "less of a man".

It is fairly clear that Frodo has more "feminine" traits than "masculine" traits. He doesn't do very much fighting. He never kills anyone, though there are a couple of times when he threatens to. He cries several times. He gets scared and sad and angry. The fact that these traits are even called "feminine" in the first place is ridiculous, but they are, and that seems to be why people (especially men) don't like the fact that Frodo has them. When you think of a fantasy story with monsters and magic and war, the assumption often seems to be that the main protagonist will be someone like Aragorn: a tough, fearless man who wields a sword and has epic battle scenes. And there's nothing wrong with that. But Tolkien has written Aragorn and the other characters like him as side characters, and he's written Frodo Baggins, a small, innocent, kind-hearted hobbit who has never been part of a war in his life, as the central character. He's obviously not the only protagonist, but if someone asked you, "Who is the main character in The Lord of the Rings?" it's likely that you will say Frodo.

This subversion of stereotypes is one that people still seem to be getting used to. From what I've been able to figure out, a lot of people (especially men) are having a hard time accepting the fact that you can have a male protagonist who is stereotypically "feminine" and is not criticised for it by the other characters, and doesn't end up changing to become more "manly" by the end of the story. People are so used to the word "strong" being synonymous with "masculine" that it's taking a while for them to realise that you don't have to be a sword-swinging, orc-decapitating warrior to be strong.

You also get a lot of people who seem to be offended by Frodo's ability to cry. This is plain moronic. Yes, Frodo does cry, and if you ask me, he has every reason to. You know who else cries? Every other member of the Fellowship (except Legolas for some reason - and let's be real, he comes pretty close). Yes, even the really tough guys. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli ... they all have feelings, and they all express said feelings. And for some reason, which I have tried and failed to identify, they don't get criticised for it, but Frodo does. It makes no sense. Is it because he's already "feminine" and being emotional apparently takes it a step too far? Or is it something else? I guess I'll never know.

Now let's look at the other reason. This one is more complicated. There are so many people preaching about Sam being the "real hero" that at this point, I think they might just be echoing each other without really thinking about what they're saying.

They're not entirely wrong. Sam is certainly an important character. But he's not the only important character.

A lot of Tolkien fans are convinced that in order for Frodo to be considered a hero, he has to be more like Sam. And on a surface level, this might seem to make sense. But think about it - Sam and Frodo have different tasks. Frodo's the Ringbearer. His job is to take the Ring to Mordor, where it can be erased from existence. He also willingly chose this job, knowing it would be hard, but knowing that someone had to do it, and nobody else was volunteering. Sam (and, for the start of the quest, the rest of the Fellowship) is going with him to offer support, because, as is made clear when showing the other people who had the Ring, it affects people - it clouds their judgement, above all else, and if Frodo had been alone with it, he wouldn't have had anyone to stop him making reckless decisions and the Ring most likely would have taken control over him much sooner.

Although Frodo and Sam both experience a lot of the same things externally, their internal experiences are completely different. And as a result of that, the external experiences affect them differently, because they have different mental states and different mindsets.

Frodo has the Ring even before the official quest starts, so it has probably already been starting to mess with his head a bit. He also has to deal with both the physical and mental trauma of having been stabbed by a Ringwraith. He is already somewhat mentally damaged at the start of the quest, and the mental damage only increases as the story progresses. Sam, on the other hand, does not have any already-existing trauma that is mentioned in the story. Plus he is not the one carrying the Ring.

Let's focus on the Ring for a second. It is very clearly shown to have negative effects on anyone who has it. And a lot of the time, the effects don't take long to make an appearance. Look at Isildur - he had it for only a few minutes before he turned down the opportunity to destroy it - or Gollum - all he had to do was look at it, and within seconds he was brutally fighting his friend and then literally killing him so he could have it.

It takes a lot longer for it to affect Frodo this severely. Whether that's because it was simply bothering him less or because he was mentally fighting it off, I'm not sure. But it is stated that it takes willpower to stop the Ring affecting you, so it's likely that that's the case with Frodo. It also presents itself as a physical weight that gets heavier the closer it gets to Mordor, to the point that when he's in Mordor, he can barely stand up.

It's made clear that the damage the Ring is doing to Frodo is physical as well as mental, and when you combine that with nonstop walking towards a terrifying place full of horrible people, while you may or may not have Ringwraiths looking for you, and you're also running on limited supplies, the whole thing sounds very unenjoyable. This experience is most likely affecting Frodo's perception of the other things happening to him.

A good example of this is Gollum: someone who had the Ring for five hundred years and became more of a creature than a person. Because Frodo has the Ring when he meets Gollum and he knows, firsthand, what it's like to have it and what it does to people, he finds it easier to empathise with Gollum than Sam does. He also knows that looking at Gollum is essentially the equivalent of looking at his future, if everything goes wrong and the Ring consumes his mind. Frodo's line, "I have to believe he can come back," refers to Gollum, but, if you think about it, also refers to himself. He shows compassion to Gollum, and that actually causes a change in his behaviour and, as is implied, one of his personalities, although it is short-lived. This gives Frodo hope - if Gollum can actually do something good and show signs of coming back to his former self after being so drastically changed by the Ring, so can he.

Frodo does succumb to the Ring in the end, and this is another thing that fans don't like. I suppose it might be disappointing to watch as a viewer - after making the whole journey, it would have been satisfying to see Frodo complete his quest. But the reality is that he's had the Ring for months up until this point. And he's in Mordor, the place where Sauron is most powerful. So it shouldn't be surprising that he doesn't manage to let go of the Ring, and yet here I am, arguing with the people who apparently did find it surprising.

It's important to point out that if Frodo found everything easy and didn't struggle with anything, he would be a terribly-written character. By writing him as someone who is impacted negatively by certain events and needs help to do some things, Tolkien has made Frodo realistic. Because everyone - everyone in the world - has problems and weaknesses as well as strengths. And I promise you, if Frodo was written as one of those characters who does everything really well and has no realistic flaws, everyone would be saying he was boring and had no personality. And they'd be right. So it's really quite stupid to dislike him for finding things difficult and not being able to do everything without help, because those are the things that give his character depth and relatability.

You could argue that Sam does a better job of resisting the temptation of the Ring better than Frodo, but you would be forgetting that Frodo has it for a lot longer than Sam. And even when Sam has had it for only a couple of hours, it still affects him. Yes, he gives it back to Frodo, but there is hesitation to do so that is clearly shown in the film and the book.

To say that Sam is inherently better than Frodo is to ignore all the differences in their experiences. And to say Sam is the "real hero" is to ignore Frodo entirely. What he did may not have been as dramatic or exciting as any of the battle scenes, but it ultimately led to the destruction of the Ring and the end of the war. So Frodo is a hero, and those who say otherwise have a lot to rethink.

Not to mention, if Sam was real and saw what people were saying about Frodo, he would absolutely flip his shit :)

[lilacerull0]

Scrapbooks of flowers

The fourth photograph: scrapbook of begonias

"We're all just learning how to smile."

- Learn to smile, INXS

People remember each other's faces for a reason. She could declare how her name was Nova Sparks under a million different circumstances and it would never matter as much as a single smile or a handshake does.

When her brother smiles, Nova feels the most at home. And Revelius smiles. He smiles like each breath holds an entire world.

Something that gets talked about a lot are the graduations. The valedictorian speeches. The breakups, the reunions. The births, the deaths. You know, the big moments. Nova doesn't seem to remember those (even though she desperately wants to). She remembers the little ones. The quick shining glimmers of passing hopes.

Nova dreams of captivating city lights and rooms filled with people who don't do anything but glow. Her hands are peppered with moonlight kisses as she rests them against the window frame of her room. The city seems so much brighter if you don't want anything from it in return.

She finds herself thinking about all those days that were brilliantly usual and how she never stopped to notice them. Something about that doesn't sit right with her, but she can't pinpoint the exact cause of her uneasiness. She never stops. That's what she does and that's how she is. She's Nova Sparks. Nova Sparks whose nails are unevenly cut and whose cheeks are always a bit rosy and whose eyes are emerged from burning passion and twinkling flames. She's not the one for waiting.

The sky is a nice shade of blue when Lyerr asks her to wait. Lyerr is a nobody, they barely interact apart from these Saturday nights in which they meet to discuss plant names and rank indie records.  Lyerr is not a family member nor a friend. He's only there so that he could point out that she is in the wrong and that he is in the right. She's there for the same thing, just put it in reverse. That's why, when he tells her to "wait up", she doesn't give it much thought.

The town thinks that Revelius and Dorothy, her brother's person, are dating. Nova understands where they are coming from. For instance, they hug in public places. They embrace one another so tightly that Nova wonders how could they still recognize air. She asks her older brother about the rumours and all he says in return is: "love never repeats itself". She isn't sure what exactly does he mean by it, but the line never leaves her head.

Nova fills her bedroom with maps, calendars and compasses. She buys a hundred colourful posters that she never hangs anywhere. She wishes to travel. Travelling means moving, hunting for happiness. She just wants to go somewhere.

When they were little, Revelius and Nova used to climb trees. Their hands always ended up embellished with scars. She often cried because of that. The adventures were wonderful, but why did you have to get hurt while experiencing them? 

That's when Revelius first starts drawing flowers on her hands. The next time it happens, he asks her if he could do it again. She lets him. Never does he ask her again. 

"What's that on your hands?" Lyerr wonders during one of their debates. She looks up at him and doesn't immediately process what he's referring to. Her hands always look like this. It takes her a few whole lifetime resembling minutes to process the statement. It's not before he lifts her hand from the table that she does. "Those are flowers, my brother paints them". He looks at her. She looks at him. This is when he is supposed to drop her hand. "It's like you have your own personal garden right there on your hands." It's not before he says it that it hits her just how much Lyerr actually talks about plants.

It's late when she overhears the conversation. She was just going to the bathroom and she didn't even know that Dorothy was there. "How do I make the clocks stop?" Nova expects to hear Revelius respond to that but she never does. She doesn't want to think about what Dorothy said. She doesn't. She shouldn't have heard that. What Dorothy said wasn't meant for her to hear. But she does think about it. She thinks about it and she wonders what is it that Dorothy wanted to say. Because for Nova, the clocks never go anywhere. They cannot stop because they were never moving to begin with.

***

"Do you always spend your time here? I mean, do you ever hang out with anybody else?"

"And you consider this hanging out?"

Lyerr isn't teasing her. He's just being his blunt annoying self.

"Well it is going out, we meet up here each and every Saturday and we talk about a whole bunch of stuff which both of us accidentally happen to like. We are hanging out."

"Oh, I just never looked at it like that."

"Now, answer my question."

"No, I don't hang out with anybody else."

The truth is, she expected him to say that. It's not the words that are intriguing her. It's the way that he says them. He's not embarrassed. His cheeks aren't reddening. His eyes aren't trying to get away from her. He's simply stating a fact.

"Don't you need people?"

"People can't make you feel whole. You do that yourself."

 

He says that, adjust the pencil behind his ear a little, frowns at her (because he's Lyerr) and they go back to the topic that they were discussing before.

All Saturdays are the same, she concludes.

***

Dorothy is leaving for college. And yes, she knows that it's none of her business. Dorothy is her brother's friend. But everything that happens to Revelius also happens to her in a way too. And no, this is not something that she hides and "could never admit to anyone". Revelius is her brother, but more importantly, he is her friend. She loves him with her whole heart and she is willing to admit that to anyone.

So, Dorothy is leaving for college. Nova wakes up with an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She spends the entire morning pacing around the living room rearranging stuff that most certainly don't need to be rearranged and folding and unfolding the same blue sweatshirt over and over again.

She's sitting on the floor when he walks in, coffee in hand. Mum and dad are still at work. Revelius takes a few steps forward, stops for a second, turns his head around as though in search for something and then he sees her. He pulls off a smile (because smiling is what he does) and lies down on the carpet beside her.

"The world looked beautiful today."

She isn't sure if it's her place to say anything in return to that and therefore, she doesn't.

***

It lasts for exactly three minutes. Not a tiny bit less. Not a tiny bit more. In conclusion, it barely reaches the limited timeline of a single shoulder brush.

She stumbled. She was walking home and she stumbled over something and now she is on the ground, checking for bruises. She wouldn't have looked up. She wouldn't have, but the sound is so beautiful that she basically has to look up. There is a girl sitting on the ground, cross legged, singing and holding a guitar. There's a purple ribbon wrapped around the girl's wrist, her hair is all messed up and her clothes seem old. And she's smiling. It's like her words are chuckling as she sings.

It's not about the specific event as much as it is about the discovery that the event in itself is specific.

***

"But people don't appreciate them enough!"

"Just to be clear, you are trying to convince me that dandelions deserve more love from people? What kind of conversation is this exactly?"

"Nova, the dandelions need our love and devotion, those flowers offer so much to us and we never offer anything in return! Now that, that is not what a decent human being does!"

"You're gonna need to elaborate on that, Lyerr."

"Oh, you bet I'm going to do that."

He does proceed with his intentions and makes some rather interesting points (Taraxacum, Nova. T a r a x a c u m, doesn't it simply roll off your tongue? The way that the word dandelion sounds like in latin is a reason enough to love it!). She chuckles despite herself and Lyerr chuckles despite himself too. His face is red from all that passion and she is busy writing down the information that he is sharing with her because they need to remember these debates, they are practically world heritage (Lyerr's words, not hers).

This is happening every single Saturday.

It's happening every single Saturday and it's still not dull.

All Saturdays are the same.

"You remind me of parts of myself I will never have a chance to meet."

- Mariah Gordon Dyke

[nightswithkookmin]

RE JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

This is in response to questions I've received in my message box following my recent post on Jimin's love language. Ignore this if you've read my main post on this same topic- Or maybe not.

Also, I'm sorry about the Asks. I accidentally turned it off- AGAIN. Thanks for drawing my attention to it. I purple y'all.

What I meant by my last post was that, for us to understandJimin or even the rest of the members' love language, it is important we make a distinction between what is uniquely Jimin/the individual members' love language and what is their culture's or even the established and accepted practices within their group.

And on that, I said skinship is a cultural practice but also one of the group's adopted love languages. It is their way of achieving intimacy and bonding with eachother and as such they do not associate romantic connotations with it.

Thus, when they touch eachother in any way, provocative as it may seem to us, to them there is nothing romantic about it at all. So when Taekook, Jikook, Yoonmin or any of these pairs touch eachother, it is not with romantic intentions.

Why then does Jimlous and Jeonlous exist? For a myriad of reasons other than that skinship is romantic! Lol

I've explained previously, that JK and Jimin's discomfort with each other's skinship with the others often has to do with the lack of boundaries that is inherent in skinship rather than that they are actually jealous or see skinship as romantic. This is often true for Jimin.

With JK, his possessive nature very often amplifies his discomfort with the lack of boundaries but also because, out of the seven, he is the only one that had had a problem accepting and participating in the skinship culture within the group- well, him and Suga. It's taking them some getting used to.

But that wasn't because he was viewing skinship as romantic but rather because he was uncomfortable with affections and the overt expressions of it as is required of skinship.

That's not to say they do not or have not implied romantic intentions with their touches- there is nothing platonic about boners. Lol.

And any skinship that results in a visible sexual tension or arousal can no longer be deemed skinship- it's foreplay.

Jikook does skinship all the time like everyone else in the band, but often too some of those skinship crosses the platonic threshold into sexual foreplay- they ain't slick.

You just have to see the look on Tae's face when he noticed, through the view finder, Jimin caressing JK's thumb to comprehend that not all their touches are mere skinship.

That's one of the differences between Jikook and the other ships; Jikook presents a mutual sexual attraction towards eachother beyond the pubescent hormonal teen frenzy that marked their early formative days- god, those boys were so horny they could hump a tree to death. Bless them.

Mind you, I disregard any sexual innuendos that was present in Jikook's dynamics as well as any other ship's dynamics, if ever there was one, during that hormonal teen period of their lives. It was all something but nothing at the same time. They were all just being horny and gross teenage boys- Hashtag, war of hormones for real for real. Lol

All that that timeline taught me was, Jikook are freaky af and certainly don't see each other as brothers. CERTAINLY.

That being said, for a better understanding of Jimin's love language, a distinction must be made between love language and sexual interest. It will make sense in a bit.

Because Jimin's father is an affectionate person and this is the love language he has taught to Jimin, Jimin interprets any affectionate and kind act as a loving gesture. It is how he gives love, it is how he receives love.

He values kindness and compassion, selflessness, vulnerability, transparency, fairness etc.

Thus to show his love for you he will be kind to you, vulnerable with you, transparent with you, supportive of you and nurturing of you.

We see him being like this with all the members, even the staff and dancers too at times but more so with Tae and JK.

The question then is, how does Jimin receive love? What actions does he interpret as love? Easy, sexual attraction. Hear me out.

You see, because Jimin is a natural nurturer and he sees nurturing as a universal love language that everyone speaks or ought to speak, he requires his romantic love interest to distinguish between their platonic love interest and their romantic love interest.

To fulfill him emotionally, you would have to make him feel special, treat him differently from your friends, and let him know that you want him and only him.

Sexual interest is one way of distinguishing between platonic interests and romantic interests, and it flows from this that he not only requires grand gestures, or special treatment but that you flirt with him as well.

Hence his emphasis on flirting. He likes to flirt. He enjoys it. He's mastered it. He's a fucking pro at it- give him his medal.

Just to be clear, even though flirting is part of his love language, he has also adopted flirting as part of his idol persona and often when he is flirting overtly he is only doing it for the 'fan service.'

But that doesn't mean all of that is fan service. Sometimes it's blatant foreplay as I've explained above and if you can't tell the difference between his foreplay and fanservice- chileee, I can't help you.

I'm still traumatized by that Bon V 4 moment. Sweet Jesus, save me if they should keep this energy up!

It's important, at this point, to note that because Jimin is a nurturer, every decent human being can easily be compatible with him. I have said several times over my blog that Jimin is ship compatible with anyone and everyone- I ain't mad at that.

What it comes down to then is whom he prefers and whom he is choosing to make him happy and to fulfill him. I explained that choice and being able to be in charge of decision making and to make his own decisions is very important to Jimin because on his background.

And when it comes to love, it's no secret who Jimin wants. He wants JK and that's on Periodttt.

I explained that in the early days during Rookie King, he felt he needed to get emotionally closer to JK when he had an opportunity to talk and heal as a group- his personal was important to him.

In that JinJikook VLive when Jin was eating a lollipop in a provocative way he asked him to stop immediately but couldn't, for the love of god, tear his eyes off JK when JK ate his lollipop in a- I can't. Jikook!

Unless he is in his fan service mood or is being his slytherin slash whore of babylon self- bless him, often he would reject any attempt by anyone to flirt with him except JK.

And I keep reiterating this, flirting isn't JK's thing. It's Jimin's thing. The last time JK tried to this flirty- he cried. Lmho

Take that interview where the host moved closer to Jimin in a flirty way for example. Jimin leaned back away from him. In the popular words of Jimin- don't do that.

Then in this airport scene right here, where Suga and Tae tried to protect JM from getting mobbed (if video is missing check bottom of this post. I hate tumblr)

You could see Jimin moving towards JK. Now some may argue he was trying to protect the JK who seemed oblivious to what was going on but I beg to differ.

I just think Jimin was moving towards JK because that's his safe haven. That's the person he feels the most safe with. 'Jk will protect' 'JK is strong.' He felt threatened and his instincts was to fin that person whom he feels would and should protect him- and that person usually isn't very far away.

And no, I'm not being biased. It's just I can't in good conscience theorize and make wild assumptions about Jimin's emotional needs the way I would the other's because unlike the others, Jimin keeps showing us what he wants. Y'all are just not listening.

It is why I said, JK on paper seemed like the last person to meet Jimin's emotional needs. He didn't strike me as the ambitious type or the daring type the way Yoongi presented himself in early days. It is why I shipped Yoonmin or even Vmin.

And even in those ships, I didn't believe they were real. Suga was too emotional closed off and wouldn't

And as I explained, having been denied his ambitions, it's not a stretch to assume, Jimin desires an ambitious partner. One who loves the stage, loves their career.

But I feel, most people including myself underestimated Jungkook. As much as JK may not appear as ambitious career wise, he is one of the most passionate members of group.

His decision to join BTS was driven purely by passion, his decision to start GCF, get a tattoo and every other endeavor he's embarked has been driven purely by his passion. And passion is a variant of ambition.

Jimin pursues his ambitious and JK pursues his passions- they are the same in the same way. And I see why Jimin will tell JK they are one and the same. They are more alike than we think they are.

So yes, Jimin needs an ambitious partner but a passionate partner equally suffices.

What equally suffices is a supportive partner. One willing to sacrifice their ambitions or needs when it comes to it, to accommodate Jimin's needs. Jimin is very competitive in nature and hates to lose, we've been told.

And nobody lets Jimin win the way JK does. Nobody. It's funny, because VMin's dumpling fight took days/weeks to resolve. And Jikook's raining dat fight took a few hours.

What hit me about that tale as told by Jikook was JK going to Jimin to resolve their fight- another instance he let Jimin win. Tae loves Jimin but I don't see him sacrificing his ego and pride the way JK would for Jimin. I don't see any member doing that for Jimin quite frankly.

It is one way I see JK nurturing Jimin. Jk can be hard headed but there is a softness and a tenderness to him that's speaks to Jimin's love language.

I can go on and on about this topic, you know? Lol

Signed,

GOLDY

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC (Female and Male POV)

Word Count: approx 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, smut,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 19

Part 20 Final Chapter

Liam and I took it easy for the next couple of days. We spent some time with Perrin and Cole, taking them for walks and making sure they were getting along.

We watched Inglourious Basterds in Liam's theatre room, which was amazing. It was like being in an actual movie theatre. The dimmed lights and sound system made the experience great. Liam cooked me dinner. We even played Scrabble a few times. We were pretty evenly matched, so the games were competitive. We worked out. We fucked. We made love.

On Saturday morning, I woke with a sore neck. I prayed it was just a strained muscle from working out but the stress I was under during the week tended to catch up with me on a Saturday. By about 4 pm, the left side of my head started pounding, and my eyes became sensitive to light. Every sound in the house felt like screaming in my ears, and I wanted to throw up. I would have cried if I didn't already know how much worse it would make it my migraine.

I told Liam I had to go to bed. Even though my migraines were terrible, I was lucky I could usually treat them with some codeine and a few hours of sleep. They rarely last more than six hours. Liam was lovely about it. He insisted on helping me get changed for bed, and he even went and got me a cold washcloth for my head. He laid in bed with me until I fell asleep.

I woke up around 11 pm feeling groggy, but the migraine had gone. I got out of bed and went looking for Liam.

I found him asleep on the lounge under a blanket downstairs. It looked like he had planned to sleep there all night. Perrin was curled up on the blanket between Liam's legs, and Cole laid on the floor in front of the couch. Cole looked up when I came in, rubbing himself against my legs like a cat and nudging my hand for a pat. Perrin's ears came up, and his tail wagged but didn't move. Lazy old Dog.

I knelt in the spot Cole had been. Liam looked so much younger asleep, almost like a boy, since he had started shaving. Apparently, his character is clean-shaven a lot of the time, so he will be switching between being shaved and unshaved depending on filming. I didn't want to startle him, so I ran my fingers through his hair until he started to wake. Liam stretched a bit before opening his eyes, and he looked so cute doing so I almost pinched his cheeks. Perrin finally got up, realising his warm spot was compromised.

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said and looking at his watch. "Are you ok? do you need anything?"

I smiled at him and shook my head. "Just you," I said.

Liam smiled one of his full Hollywood smiles. He takes my breath away when he does that. "How's your head?"

"I haven't had any complaints," I said, winking. I think I've watched Drag Race too many times.

Liam chuckled and shook his head at me. "And you certainly won't get any from me." He said, getting up. Kissing my forehead, he said, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

I took his hand and pulled him towards the elevator. Like the gentleman he is, he pretended I was able to pull him.

We get in bed, Liam on his back and me with my head on his chest. He stroked my hair, trying to lull me to sleep. I always find it difficult to sleep at night if I have a nap in the afternoon. I was content to breathe my calming breaths and not worry about forcing the sleep I knew would eventually come.

Since sleep was alluding me, I asked Liam, "are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Meeting your family?" I nodded. He shrugged, "a little. It's been a while since I've been introduced to the family. A couple of years, actually. But I'm mostly looking forward to it." He gave me a quick kiss. "What about you?"

"After Thursday, I don't know if I'll be nervous about anything again." Liam chuckled. "I'm a little concerned about my mum. But I'm excited about you meeting the kids. I wonder if they will recognise you."

"Sometimes, kids do. Other times they say that's not him. He doesn't have a cape." I chuckled. Liam didn't speak for a while, so I tried letting Liam's breaths rock me to sleep. Then he spoke again, "Do you want kids?"

"You know, I do," I replied. We had spoken about it when we first started talking. Not wanting kids had been a deal-breaker for both of us. It was one of the first questions he had asked once we had gotten past the superficial talk. I looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"

"When you first told me about your contraception, I thought with my dick, so naturally, I was excited about not having to wear a condom." Liam's lip twitched, "Having said that, I wouldn't mind seeing you put a condom on me again." I rolled my eyes and indicated he should keep talking. "But then I thought you got that thing put in when you were still with Andy. If it's none of my business, that's fine. I had just been thinking about it, is all."

"You're wondering why I would use such a long-lasting contraception when I was married and wanted kids."

He nodded. "That sums it up."

"Well, several reasons. I had to replace the one I had. It had expired. Second, I have Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, and one symptom is very irregular periods. I was always scared I was pregnant. I could go months without a period, and when I did, they were hell. I would get migraines for weeks, mood swings from being happy to almost suicidal throughout my cycle. When the period came, there was bad cramping and back pain, joint pain, fatigue. So, I had my first implant when I was 20."

"That sound's awful, Sweetheart."

"Yup. I got the last one put in instead of trying for kids because I was 26. Yes, Andy and I wanted kids, but we wanted to wait a few more years, pay more off the house, grow up a bit." Liam nodded.

I was surprised that talking to him about Andy in such intimate detail didn't make me start crying. I still felt sad and missed him, but it was different now. There was a fondness to the thoughts rather than the fear and guilt that would usually arise. Anthea had been right. I had to talk with Andy and be honest with him about how I felt. As if verbalising how I felt to Andy, wherever he was in the universe, eased the guilt I was feeling. It made me realise that it wasn't wrong or selfish to seek love again. It was what made life special, sharing your life with someone else.

Liam was looking with furrowed brows. "Are you ok?" He asked.

I wondered if I should tell him what I was thinking. Would he be interested? Would it be weird for him to hear about Andy? In some ways, Andy had always been the elephant in the room. He was mentioned in passing, but other than last Friday, I hadn't told him anything meaningful about him or how I felt. He had been right when we argued, Andy was a shadow that loomed over the relationship, and that was my fault. I decided to be honest.

"Yeah, I am." I gave him a half-smile and said, "I spoke to Anthea, my mother-in-law, on Tuesday." Liam's face was unreadable. Too late to stop now. I kept going. "I wanted her to hear from me that we were dating before it was official. It turns out she already knew. She was cool about it, happy for me. I was surprised by her response, and I thought she would think it was a betrayal. But she said I should talk to Andy, and I would feel better."

Liam still wasn't showing me what he was thinking. His face was stoic. I thought again, I should stop. "Keep going," he said, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

"So I visited Andy and told him about how I was feeling. I told him about you and how I felt about you. It seemed to work like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I felt free."

Liam was quiet for a while. I could almost see him arranging his thoughts. After a while, he said, "it seems the only one who makes you feel guilty is you."

"I think that was true, but not anymore," I said. "Are you upset I told you that? Is it... I don't know... tmi?"

Liam gave me a half-smile, "no, Lana. I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you did that. Not just for me, but for you."

"Then why were you looking at me like that?"

Liam's smile was full now. "Because I thought you were going to break my heart. Instead, you told me something private and because you wanted to. Not because I forced you or put you in a position where you had no choice. It makes me believe you may care about me as much as I care about you."

I cupped his face in my hands and looked deeply into his eyes, so he knows what I'm saying is true. "Liam, I do care about you. I don't think anyone else could have opened my heart. I was ready to go the rest of my life alone. If it weren't for you, I would never have taken those final steps to move on. For being the catalyst I needed, I will always be thankful for you and care about you."

Liam POV

Lana held my face in her hands. Her green eyes shined in the dim light of my bedroom as she spoke to me. "Liam, I do care about you. I don't think anyone else could have opened my heart. I was ready to go the rest of my life alone. If it weren't for you, I would never have taken those final steps to move on. For being the catalyst I needed, I will always be thankful for you and care about you."

My heart stopped a moment before it started to thunder in my chest. Lana so rarely bared her soul to me. She dropped hints sometimes, said little things to make me believe she could love me. But too often she was closed off when things get too intimate or too real.

She had changed so much since I first spoke to her, yet somehow she was still the same. She was kind and generous. I picked up on that early. That she was so funny and witty was something that she was slow to reveal but was a joy to watch. Watching her start to open her soul to me was beautiful. To see her courage and strength as she pushed through her grief was inspiring. That she saw enough in me to want to go through all she went through was humbling.

I loved her. I was desperate to tell her. I almost told her so many times. But my fear kept me from saying it. I didn't want to scare her off. I knew now she has to set the pace. She will be ready when she's ready and I will be there when she is.

Lana kissed me, and my body lit up. Her lips were like a match igniting a fire that travelled through my whole body. I instantly grew hard and needed her. I kissed her back, my tongue licking at her lips, urging her to open for me. When she did, I was lost, and all control left me. I needed to be in her.

My tongue entered her mouth, and her taste reminded me of apples and honey. She tasted so sweet to me. I wanted to taste her everywhere. I rolled her onto her back, reminding myself not to throw her around too roughly. She could take a lot of punishment, but I was still careful.

I sought Lana with my hands, pulling off the underwear that separated me from her. I put my hand between her legs, and my fingers parted her. I groaned when I felt how wet she was already, and I had to taste her. I moved between her legs as she opened them wide for me.

I put two fingers inside her, and my cock ached. "You're so warm, Lana," I told her, and she moaned, arching her back, her hips moving as I fucked her with my fingers. She was so responsive to my touch, and I loved watching her every movement. Her body moved in the most spectacular ways, writhing and seeking her pleasure.

I couldn't wait any longer for a taste, so leaving my fingers inside her, I let my tongue find her clit. When her taste hit my tongue, I hummed with delight. Lana's fingers slid into my hair as she pushed me into her and her hips rocked as she grinds herself on my tongue. God, she was so sexy. I wanted to stay here forever, watching her and listening to her moan. I ran my hand up her hips to her tiny waist. Feeling her hips under her soft skin was so erotic. I needed to fuck her, but she needed this first.

Lana started panting, her moans became short cries as she exhaled and I knew she didn't have long. I felt her walls close in on my fingers as she started to cry out my name, begging me not to stop. As if I would deny her this. As if I would deny her anything.

When Lana came, she was beautiful. Her eyes closed hard, her body convulsed, and her thighs trembled. Then she did this thing where she throws her head forward, and her body almost curls into a ball, and I know she's finished. Even when she's standing up she does it, I almost dropped her the first time. It's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen.

I lapped at her one more time, taking one last taste. She shuddered and tried to close her legs, giggling. She smiled at me, and my heart melted, but my cock was in pain. I needed to have her.

I kissed her, and she licked at me, tasting herself. She drives me wild when she does that. I felt like an animal, my careful control was gone, and I pushed my cock into her. She was so wet and tight, her body moulded around my cock, taking me all in, holding me so tight I almost came.

"Fuck," I swore into her mouth. Lana bit at my lip, playful, but I knew what that meant. She wanted me, and she didn't want me to be gentle.

I wasn't gentle. There was no way I could be. She had me too worked up, and all I wanted was to own her and claim her as mine forever. I started to thrust into her, her tits bouncing as she takes all I give her. Her lips were parted, and her cheeks were red. Her hair looked like a halo of fire on the sheets. Its vibrance thrilled me. I pushed my self off her and watched as my cock pumped into her. Seeing her stretched around me, I felt my orgasm rise again. Not yet. I wasn't done with her yet. I slowed down.

"Liam," She whispered my name, and there was no stopping it. My body took on a mind of its own, driving itself to release. She cried my name again as I felt my seed rise into me, and ecstasy flowed through me as it pumped into her.

I fell on my side next to Lana and took deep breaths. She gave a hum of contentment and I pulled her into me, hugging her tightly and I felt the surge of love again. She was so beautiful and sweet but so fucking sexy. She made me feel drunk. Even moments after orgasming, I wanted her again. I put my face into her hair, smelling her sweet pomegranate shampoo. Lana hugged me back as she played with my chest hair, and I smiled, she loved to touch me there, and it felt so good when she did.

My mind wandered as she caressed me with her pretty little hands and pink fingernails. The first time she had touched my chest, she had seemed so hesitant and unsure, even looking at me for permission. It had been such a turn-on.

It had been so hard not to fuck her that first night. I did try and seduce her. I knew what effect I had on women. It's hard not to know when you're famous and have women hitting on you all the time. I think I could have, there were a few times there where if I had played my cards right she would have let me. But knowing what I know now, I'm happy I didn't. I'm sure she would have run, and I would never have seen her again.

When she did let me, she had knocked me for six when she bit me. It was almost out of nowhere, and the way she opened up to me after about her desires was amazing. We still had so much to explore, only just getting to know each other sexually. I could tell she was getting more comfortable with it. She was probably going to teach me a thing or two. That thing she did with the condom, I think I almost told her I loved her then. I chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" Lana asked. Her accent made it sound like she said, "whadcha laughn at?" I don't know why, but her accent excited me, especially when she swore at me. Her mouth was filthy. Maybe it was the combination of her outward elegance and her potty mouth that I liked. It was such an exciting combination.

"Nothing, Sweetheart." I kissed her long neck gently and held her. She seemed to accept it and squeezed me into her.

"I love you, Lana," I said, and my heart stopped. She froze. I don't even think she was breathing. My blood was like ice as my heart started to beat again. Oh, God, I fucked up. I'm going to lose her this time. I wanted to take it back. I was such a fool. Fuck.

Then Lana found my mouth and kissed me. The warmth that spread through my body was such a relief. Her kiss held such sweetness and passion. It was the promise that I needed. She wasn't mad. She wasn't going to run away. I held her close and kissed her back. She didn't have to say it for me to know that she loved me too.

End.

[dragonindigo245]

Paper Stars (Sanders Sides AU)

Hey so this is one of my few fanfics I wrote. It’s admittedly not great but after @fangirltothefullest made a story description for an AU... I just wanted to do something. I hope it’s alright! ^^

Wattpad version: https://my.w.tt/oXfIWECDpY

Post this was based off of: https://fangirltothefullest.tumblr.com/post/186271732555/paper-stars-for-the-fic-titles

Warnings: Lil bit depressing but otherwise it’s completely fine!

Word count: 1555

Tag: @theitalianalchemist

11:03pm January 14th

The desk clocks time was two minutes behind but it was close enough. Patton sat up from his bed and sighed. He couldn't sleep knowing this would be his last day in the orphanage. It was a pretty crappy orphanage but 12 years of memories really makes you nostalgic of the few good times. Patton stared at his jar on the same end table as the clock. It was half full with little blue colored stars he made. Each of them made to symbolize a wish, a dream, a hope that he wanted. None of them had ever come true for him. Patton sighed and grabbed the jar before making his way out of his room.

  He swiftly went up to the top floor and came to a ladder as well as a latch that lead to the roof. Patton climbed up and sat on the roof like he often did when sleep was absent. It was a surprisingly cold night for Florida and the sky was open. Patton hugged his jar close.

  17 years old, going on 18. Hard to believe. Getting to go make a living for himself. Course he had no job, or money, or a place to stay or food, let alone any plan whatsoever, but at least he could get out of this place... right?

Forget it.

  Patton had lived his whole life being optimistic. He didn't know how he could possibly be anymore. He was done, going to spend his life on the streets, dive in the dumpster for a meal, beg on the streets forever. Patton stood up and gripped his jar. Was he angry? Sad? Scared? Confused? Maybe all of those. He couldn't tell but he didn't care. Wishes get you nowhere. All they do is build false hope for you to get hurt from.

  Patton looked at the jar in his hand while standing back up. So much for this. Spent his life making stupid paper shapes. He held the jar up high and threw it as hard as he could onto the roof, breaking the glass and sending stars flying. He turned away from the broken remains with his eyes welling up with water.

Patton remembered the days when he was happy still. Those stars he learned to make when he was five and still with a family. He remembered the skill all the way into the orphanage. His little brain remembering the fairytales about people wishing on stars, he would make his own and wish on them. Eventually he had so much he could fill a jar, then five, then a dozen. No matter how hard he wished, no dream came true. At 15 he started giving the stars away to little kids, telling them to wish upon its papery cover and it will come true. He gave away all his stars except that half empty jar. Those stars bringing joy for a few moments... it was comforting when he made them. He would be comforted when the kids faces lit up. Hope was destructive, but it's comforting anyways.

Patton realized he made a mistake. He turned around to find the stars all blowing away off the roof. He ran after them panicked, yelling, "No wait! Please! It's all I have left!" The wind doesn't answer to anyone though and they all flew away, leaving Patton in tears. He finally let the warm drops fall down his face. Stupid. Shouldn't have gotten so angry. A tear fell off his face and landed on something that sounded like... paper? Patton looked down to see a single little star, dark blue with light blue stripes, trapped under his foot. He moved his foot and picked it up. Pat flashed a smile before sitting down and holding it close to his chest.

  It was stupid but he began to wish on it. In a soft voice he pleaded, "Please... I wish... I wish that if I can't be happy, I want to make others happy. I know none of my wishes come true but... please..." His voice cracked at the last word. The tears blurred his vision and he began to fully sob. He put a hand over his mouth to muffle it even though nobody could hear it. It was instinct for him. He cried for a good long while before he heard a warm and comforting voice speak to him.

"Hey... it's alright buddy... just breathe."

  Patton jumped and looked up. There was a pale, almost white, figure crouched to his level in front of him. They had purple hair and a patched black and purple hoodie. Their face had eye shadow under their eyes and showed empathy. Strange Patton didn't hear them sooner. He wiped one of his eyes and tried to talk normally despite it coming out shakily. "S-sorry I didn't hear you come onto the roof. Who are you?"

  The pale man shrugged and sat down next to Patton. "People call me Anxiety cause of how I suddenly appear without warning. Feel free to call me whatever." Patton sniffled and stared confused at him. "Anxiety? Well that's not a nice name exactly. Don't you have a name your parents gave you?" Anxiety shook his head. "Nope. Don't got parents. Didn't bother to name myself really." Patton sighed and stared up at the stars for a second. "Remy... no... how about I call you Virgil?" Virgil nodded. "Sure I like that one. Don't mind you calling me that." Patton smiles and looks at him. "I take it you're an orphan then."

"Not exactly."

"You have a family then?"

"Nope. I'm not really family material."

"Why's that?"

"I'm an astral being I suppose. Not god level but born with a star."

Patton raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that? That's impossible." "Impossible? No. Unlikely? Yes." Virgil took Pattons blue paper star from his hoodie pocket and held it up to him, who in response gasped and looked down at his hands to find the star truly was gone. "Hey! Give it back!" Virgil smiled. "Fine take it back if you don't want your wish that is." Patton stopped and stared at Virgil in slight shock. No way he could know about that. Virgil turned the star over and in his hands. "Thought so. Anyways I'm here to grant your wish buddy. Lucky you! You wanna help others and I know just the thing to help you. However you have some terms and conditions. One, You have to trust me. My magic only works when you have faith in me. If you don't trust me my magic is unable to come to you. Two, you have to swear to use what my magic conjures only for good. I don't help selfish people. Three, you have to pay me. Say I think this star will be nice payment. So how about it Pat? You willing to make your wi-" "Yes! Yes please!"

  Patton put a hand over his mouth. "Ah... sorry... didn't mean to... got over excited." Virgil waved him away. "Eh don't worry about it. Isn't like this is a run of the mill offer. Comes around once a lifetime you know. So anyways, I got a plan. I'll allow you to feel others emotions. Just by looking at a person you'll know what their feeling. You can help people who are feeling negatively to cheer up. Could be sitting and talking to them or offering them something. Even if you're not content, you can cheer others up." Patton's eyes lit up. "Alright! You wanted me to follow your rules in exchange right?" Virgil nodded in response and stretched out his hand. "If you're sure you want it, shake my hand to seal the deal."

  Patton didn't think twice before taking Virgil's hand into his own and shaking it. Pats star flew out of Virgil's other hand and glowed a bright blue. The star becoming specks of light that flew around Patton before going inside his body. The world suddenly seemed to become darker besides Virgil who seemed to be brighter? Slightly glowing. Patton instantly knew Virgil was anxious and happy at the same time, like it was a normal thing to simply know ones emotions. As natural as knowing up and down. His face filled with wonder and he felt happy. It was subtle happiness but it felt good finally being truly happy. Virgil snickered and he was less on edge. "Well you certainly perked up." Patton nodded and clenched his fists excitedly. "Yeah! This is so cool! You really are amazing Virgil! I don't know how I can possibly repay you! I mean the stars gone so really I didn't pay you." Virgil smiled softly and put a hand on Patton's shoulder. "You already have. Your believing in me. Nobody's done that before."

  They sat together the rest of the night, watching the sun come up on Patton's 18th birthday. Once the orange had faded completely from the sky Patton stood up and walked over to the latch. "Hey Virg... you thinking of staying here a little longer? Not on the roof but um... on Earth. I would like to have some company and maybe... we could be friends?" Virgil smiled and nodded. "Sure! You gotta teach me how to make those paper stars after all!"

[theskygivesmelife]

"I am the master of my fate,"

How ironic that a poem about self control uses this very phrase, whilst ignoring the fact that fate, or destiny actually imply that there can never truly be any control, for all is predetermined from the beginning of time.

...

I'd say we don't. Nonexistence is a superior state of existence in my opinion.

...

First things first: you don't love me, so stop saying you do. Even if you genuinely believe you do, you'll understand what I mean.

With that said, for the love of God can you stop messaging me? Not on WhatsApp because I will have *deleted* it, and not on Android messages because I can't respond as I don't have any balance. I use my phone only for music or gaming mainly anyway. Speaking of which, I thought I did make it clear that I don't want to talk to you. When was the last time we did talk? Right, your birthday. I don't remember ever being that drained after talking to you. Honestly, it was a pain—was it for you too? I guess that's what happens as one becomes truly apathetic. Seriously, I don't know who you're still trying to contact, but that person's dead. Well, not literally unfortunately, but if you do want to talk to some tired, disillusioned soul I'm still here I guess. As I mentioned, your little I love yous at the end don't really hold, because, you know, you're really just refering to the wrong person. For the record, I've started to think that not only am I incapable of loving, but am also incapable of being loved.

Anyhow, lets just say that if I were Jekyll then I'm Hyde now. To be honest, I don't even know why I'm responding to you. The "fuck her, why give a damn?" voices have been quite loud for some time. Well, I don't think of you all the time, so "fuck the world" might seem more apt as a generalisation. Back to the point: some time ago I'd have actually cared, but I don't give a shit now about anything.

I'll say it now: I don't think it'll ever be a good enough reason for you. I don't think any reason ever will. You'll probably still try to convince me to maintain contact, even though it's so horribly one sided. Well, I just couldn't care less for the most part. It'd probably be good if you wouldn't waste your time on me though. I mean, let's be real. You're not going to get my number once out if this country. Even if you miraculously did, you'd certainly make some replacement friends in college without the downsides that I have, so it'd be pointless. I know you won't listen anyway, and I said that I don't care either. So why am I even trying? I don't know.

If you'll remember I've tried to shut you out multiple times. It's funny now, ~because I feel absolutely nothing now.~ Quite often in the past I'd feel quite regretful or guilty, but now? Heh, just an emotionless robot just moving along now. Going through the motions you know. Still, if there's one thing I should mention, it's that I never lied to you when I said some sentimental crap like caring about you and such. Whoever I was back then, he genuinely ment it. And now, it seems like my wick is shorter than I imagined. It's going to burn up quick. You know what that means? Garima, it means peace at last. So, let me have my time now. I still dream of that little cottage far away, secluded from society. No-one for company. Okay, a cat and a dog. They'll be nice. A drum kit. Video games maybe? What'll I do? Electrician perhaps? Mechanic? Just so long as it isn't a crappy 9-5 job, and actually pays my bills. No people. No friends—do I really have any? No girlfriend—I don't want one (not asexual, but I'm not as horny as you I guess), and I doubt I'm capable of forming a proper relationship anyway. No family—I never had one to begin with. Can you imagine it? All alone and blissful. Just let me be. Please. One way or another, I'm gone. I'm actually feeling sad now typing this, tears in my eyes and all (I haven't cried in forever) but you shouldn't be. You've got a long, long way to go; you'll do well anyway. I don't know what I really was to you, or what I've done to you. I know that I was a hard person to deal with. I can't really list out all the times I've failed you; I hope you will forgive me for them. Believe me when I say that if there was ever I person I really tried to keep happy as often as I could, it was you.

" *Bye, stay healthy and happy* "

I won't—I can't.

Bye.

PS. Nice songs. I still appreciate music I guess, unless it's a really bad day.

...

[8/18/2018, 12:03 AM] Prathik: It seems not. Oh well, I was hoping I could talk one last time. Silly of me; you're probably either sleeping or studying for tomorrow's — should I say today's? — test.

[8/18/2018, 12:57 AM] Prathik: You know, I've been thinking: what if I wanted to talk to you one day? Would you then be ready to hold conversation? I think you would, but that doesn't strike me as fair. I mean you say that you'll miss me, but that's something you'll just have to take in your stride. On the contrary, if I miss you, then I try contacting you, and in all likelihood you'll just respond. What do you think?

[8/18/2018, 1:44 AM] Prathik: Maybe you're free tonight? I just want to talk; I don't know what I'm even doing now. Ugh I can't even explain it without sounding like some self pitying shithead. Forget it. I'm sorry

[8/18/2018, 12:42 PM] Prathik: Seriously, the very dynamics of our interactions are messed up. Everything is based on my mood and how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk? No problem! I'll go silent. Depressive episode? No problem! I'll go silent. It's like I can literally choose what and when we get to converse. Tired of our conversations? No problem! I'll just stop talking to you. And all you say is that you'll miss me. Sure, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, but bloody hell — why didn't you ever call me out for my behaviour? Gee, we screwed up...so many flaws and nothing was even done about them.

Yes, I'm ranting. I'll say stupid things, and maybe hurtful things too. If I were completely aware of what it is that sounded like that, then I wouldn't be saying them. Not that it's an excuse for saying anything I shouldn't. You probably shouldn't take anything personally, because in all likelihood, I'll probably just be projecting.

[8/18/2018, 12:52 PM] Prathik: Oh shit, I really need psychological help don't I? Do you think that if I got better, I'd finally stop sabotaging all the relationships I have?

[8/19/2018, 12:19 AM] Prathik: Goodbye

[8/19/2018, 2:25 PM] Prathik: Okay, I'll just leave this here. Just one last thing. I honestly am doubting my mental stability: I'd wager that I'm fairly unstable in general and more so at this point. My mood seems to swing like a fucking pendulum, and for whatever reason, I have and possibly might keep spouting unnecessary shit. So please, just *IGNORE EVERYTHING* I say. *EVERYTHING.* Except this one last message. Please. It's all I ask.

[8/19/2018, 2:54 PM] Prathik: I'm also not going to be using WhatsApp anymore — no point now right? — so I guess you'll be spared if having to reply to anything.

...

[8/8/2018, 10:24 PM] Prathik: Bloody hell, always nice to me even though I don't deserve it. Can't just go study like you ought to or talk to anyone else? You've got tons of friends after all. Perhaps one day they'll give you a consolation prize saying "good effort; hard luck" and maybe then you'll see how you're just wasting your time. Whatever. It's not like I can control you or force you to behave in a certain manner. Stupid world. Just leave me be

[8/8/2018, 10:52 PM] Prathik: I don't even know why you don't give in. I mean, what am I to you? Some depressed idiot that makes you feel better about yourself? I don't think that's the narrative you've sold to me, so that's probably not the reason.

It's kinda like you're an ant running against the wind. Not any wind, though, just that which is being blown by some sadistic little kid. It keeps running into it. Over and over it tries and fails. The wind keeps pushing it back, but the ant doesn't see how futile it's attempts are. It doesn't see that despite the fact that it keeps trying, nothing's going to change. It has so many other avenues of exploration, ones that would certainly lead to a great reception from the colony, but oh no. The ant keeps running, hoping that the resistance will decrease. Eventually the boy just blows harder, and the ant flies away and lands on its back. (Good thing it has an exoskeleton.) Only then does it see how pointless its efforts were, and that they were better off invested somewhere else.

...

You know how people throw that fucking annoying platitude around? That things will get better? Doesn't happen. It's no different in its progression from a physical illness, and once you go beyond a certain stage you're only living on fumes at that point. Limited time. But it'll get better they say. Fucking hell, it can also get worse, but who's willing to actually concede that bleak truth?

...

Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I'm just getting worse mentally. I mean, I set the suicide date for when I'm 25. It's only kept dropping. I started considering pushing it to college years, and now I'm genuinely pondering whether I should just drop out of college like when I'm 19 or so and be done with it — at least I won't have to wonder about how you'll come meet me in USA lol. I'm also drawing more blanks in tests. It's not like I don't know, it's just making me more and more anxious. Like the psychology UT we had just some time ago. I left 12 marks because it seemed to easy to be true and I thought I was wrong. I got 17.5 . And meeting people, ugh. Worse than ever. Sure I'm introverted, but at this rate I'm practically going to become a hermit. My ability to function like a sane person is waning, and it's actually quite clear. It's makes me awe struck and horrified at the same time seeing how someone is so capable of self sabotage. Yeah, I don't think I was made for this world. Just one big mistake that hasn't been taken care of yet.

...

Oh, if you haven't listened to it already, you really should listen to Heroes by David Bowie. Please do, if you haven't yet. Just this one song.

...

[6/28/2018, 12:13 AM] Prathik: I love you.

[6/28/2018, 12:14 AM] Prathik: ^ I just felt like saying that.

...

You don't get it. I don't know for sure that you like talking to me. Yes, you've said so so many times that I've lost track. I'd be lying if I said that it were enough to convince me. It isn't; you can't do anything to change my perception of myself, and sometimes I'll project, being the idiot I am after all. There's never going to be a time when I can the voice that says you're you're just using me for some kicks or something to shut up. That doubt will never go, and every time you say something like that, I'll make sure to interpret it as evidence that even you don't care, that you just let your guard down. You can't ever really make me satisfied or happy, so don't throw away any more of your time actually trying to justify anything. If you know that what you've done is fine, then it's fine.

...

[6/12/2018, 8:51 PM] Prathik: Speaking of which, it's interesting that you brought up the fact that our relationship is dysfunctional. Not that I really addressed it well when you originally meantioned it. It does make me wonder, are the dynamics of the way we interact with each other actually healthy? Perhaps we're just fucking each other in the ass and not even realising it? While it's a possibility that I consider, you should know that I don't think the second one is too probable. All the same, it's bothersome enough to actually consider pondering over. Funny, though, how I've just turned a blind eye to it; best relationship you've had you say. Pretty much the same for me, I suppose that's why I've not considered anything that suggests contrary to that opinion.

You know, we never did our cliched apologies. I'm not sure what exactly to apologise for; however, I don't have any qualms admitting that I did fuck up. I'm not sure it makes any sense to apologise for going silent for a month. Honestly, while I did miss you, I'm not sure of how much I actually regret it. Heck, if I hadn't misunderstood your message and not responded... Moreover, what's the point of saying sorry for something I've done multiple times and might do again anyway? It probably does defeat the purpose of it. I do regret making you angry though. I'm not too proud of getting you pissed off, I honestly am sorry about that. That conversation just didn't go the way I'd have liked it to I guess...

[6/12/2018, 8:53 PM] Prathik: Also, is it just me or have things between us changed? I mean, the one month silence probably did more harm than good. It'd have probably been better had I never done anything, or had not stupidly misinterpreted what you said and stayed silent after all. I don't know, I'm not saying it has anything to do with you anyway. I know who's responsible if something is wrong after all.

[6/12/2018, 10:04 PM] Prathik: Oh, today I mixed NaOH with NH4Br, boiled it and inhaled it. I also had to do some speaking for a group activity in English, and I didn't really fuck it up at all or get shaky knees

Just saying. Anyway, which Tapasya acquaintances are you still in touch with?

[6/12/2018, 10:42 PM] Prathik: Oh look, they just killed off net neutrality in USA. Fucking Ajit Pai. As if he didn't have an incredibly punchable face to begin with.

...

[6/10/2018, 10:05 AM] Prathik: If you say so. Read at your own inconvenience.

Since I'm idiotic enough, I decided to read more of the dude's articles. Lost a ton of brain cells. Also, don't read the comments. Nutty, the lot of them.

[6/10/2018, 11:00 AM] Prathik: "The power of propaganda always surprises me. Only 30 years ago, homosexuality was almost universally condemned, and now it’s accepted in half the world and half the States. Clearly, the natural position worldwide is that homosexuality is a disorder, and should be condemned. The problem is, we lost the youth. Somehow, homosexual advocates were able to brainwash and indoctrinate them into accepting it. If you talk to anyone my age, they believe that homosexuality poses no health risks (homosexuals have a 5 times higher chance of getting HIV) and that they are born as homosexuals (despite no scientific evidence.) IMO this is a result of two things: homosexual propaganda (esp. through the internet) and the collapse of the traditional marriage model. The parents simply haven’t taught their children about Christianity and thus they are easy prey for the homosexual movement.

Honestly, I am very pessimistic and I feel that it’s only going to get worse as time goes on. More and more ‘Christians’ are accepting this behavior day by day and it’s heartbreaking."

Has to be the most ironic things I've ever read. Talks about propaganda and indoctrination, but completely turns a blind eye to how he's become what he is.

[6/10/2018, 6:29 PM] Prathik: And now, I've realised that I could have actually spent my time better by talking to you on the phone as you suggested. Not that I studied one bit as I planned to do.

...

[6/9/2018, 1:56 AM] Garima Joshi: Bye now, love you.

[6/9/2018, 1:57 AM] Prathik: Bye. Love you.

...

if I could really recover from the depressed, socially anxious, and suicidal person I am today, believe me I'd let you know immediately. I promise.

...

[3/20/2018, 3:01 AM] Garima Joshi: I know you said you were tired. Thanks for sticking around. Always great talking to you.

[3/20/2018, 3:02 AM] Prathik: It's always fun talking to you. So.. yeah. Do we say goodnight or goodmorning at this point?

[3/20/2018, 3:03 AM] Prathik: Yeah. Stay safe in Delhi will you? Bye.

[3/20/2018, 3:04 AM] Garima Joshi: I'll try, I'll try.

Have a good day (today)

Bye, love you.

[3/20/2018, 3:06 AM] Prathik: I thought you said cheesy stuff were grossing you out...

I'm sorry, did I sound a little overprotective?

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Garima Joshi: Okay Patrick I love you v much but I'll find you a wife tomorrow, for now you need those 2 hours 58 minutes of beauty sleep to rope in all those women

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Prathik: Lulz. Fine. Love you too.

[hottmessexpresss]

Fever.

Back problems.

These mothafuckin'Kids.

Three days ago, my son woke up sick. He had this look* on his face. An unsettled look. He looked me dead in the eyes, and he started to gag. My eyes widened with horror. My instincts kicked in, and I did what my dad would do when I was growing up. The only sure way to know you have reached another level of parenting: held out my hands cupped together held under his chin. A vomit catch-all, if you will. Maybe it's a kid instict too. He knew* what it meant and what to do. He played and was fine throughout the day. Thank god.

The NEXT day, I developed a decent fever. I felt like my body was ran over by an 18 wheeler. "Greaaaaaaaaaaat!" I thought to myself. I laid on the couch half dead in a pool of my own sweat staring at the clock. Is 7:00 too early for bedtime? My daughter ended up puking ONCE that evening, so i figured it was a 24 hour tummy bug. No other symptoms. No more vomit. Both kids seemed fine. I prayed that I would not fall ill, and that I**wouldn't be sick. Could you imagine? Being sick AND being the mom? Being the house chore manager? Being the post-op surgery home nurse? What the hell would that* be like? Well, my dad has always told me, God must have a sense of humor based on my life being like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm....and it was a god awful sense of humor, if that.

Yesterday, I was swiffer wet jetting a pool of urine on the floor. I shook my head, did my usual lecture on how only an animal would pee on the floor. How grayson wasn't an animal, and how pee goes INSIDE of the toilet. Not inside his construction cement truck (boys🙄😬). I bent over, and my life flashed before my eyes. BAM. I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sweating and writhing in pain. I couldn't muster up ENOUGH inertia to walk my body forward. My knees started to buckle, and immediate panic set in. Of all times for this to happen, with my luck-- it did (cue Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song). I am damn near 30 years old, and a Swiffer wet jet mop, along with a slight twist and bend movement, put me to the fuckin' floor. Meanwhile, J-Lo who is in her 50's is pole dancing and dancing at a top performance rate for a Superbowl half-time show. And again, here I am, in the same clothes as yesterday, my body getting over a fever, AND NOW pulled my back out of place. I was angry and upset that I have disabled myself.

Of course, Grayson and the baby caught wind of my sudden lack of movement and chaos ensued. Both hanging on my feet, whining and crying and fighting each other to be held. Every second ticked by slowly, as I completely winced and cursed in pain. I huddle by the cat tree. I try to stand and lean onto it and realized..I needed help. But who could help? How?

My husband was at work. Barely 2 weeks post-op from his shoulder replacement. I broke down in tears. My husband has just now been able to shower by himself. He's still in a sling and has very limited movement. What the hell am I going to do? With different parts of our bodies being out of commission, how* could we do this? I reluctantly called him. In tears, I waited 45 minutes before he got to the house. Before he arrived, with a little help from my Grayson, I was able to dress the baby. Grayson picked his clothes out, and got ready all by himself (I was shook). I waddle slowly to my bedroom and grab some socks and my Nike's. Grayson hauled ass into my room like always (because there isba child lock and it's forbidden) kneeled down and helped me put on my socks and shoes. I told him my back was hurting and he told me, "Don't worry mom. I'll fix it!" He lifted my shirt gently, and started to scratch my lower back. The tears were welling up. He got the baby clothes from her drawer (after one attempt), and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to her as I changed her. I was overwhelmed with many emotions. I was in that moment, proud of Will and I's parenting and how my sweet and sour child, was being sweet and helpful to me.

Will arrives. He's stressed. I'm stressed. I keep apologizing over and over to him. I shove fruit snacks in my jacket. Will raises his voice at me to stop trying to put Grayson into his car seat. We are both frustrated. We are both not feeling it. I get to urgent care and wait for the doctor. He comes in after 10 minutes and says, "Oh? Are you striking a pose for a photo?" My hip is out and I'm leaning against the wall. I laughed. I explained what happened. He felt my hips and lower back. "Oh. Wow......you have HUGE knots all over the place...no wonder!" I held back tears. Then. This man turns to me and has THEE AUDACITY TO ASK ME** "Do you need a doctor's note for work?" I cracked a smile, but also wanted to strangle him right then and there. I explained my husband is two weeks post-op from shoulder replacement surgery, and that I have a 10 month old and a 3 year old at home, and all three are waiting in the car for me. He smiled and said, "I'd reccomend taking it easy, but that's not realistic is it?" He gave me a toradol shot, steroids for the inflammed muscles, muscle relaxers and T3. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I knew how Toradol made me tired. I knew how muscle relaxers obviously*** relax your muscles. T3 makes me groggy. How the fuck am I supposed to function on these AND take care of the kids?

So long gone are the days of being injured or sick and being able to sleep or "relax". So long gone are the days when no one else depended on you to be a fully functional adult during times of illness or injury.

My husband told me to go nap and relax my back. Though I was irriated by having to listen, and fight back the internal urge to pick up the toys on the ground, I obliged. Thinking back to a few months ago, my husband's sciatic caused him to be down and out from work for three days. I sat up in bed thinking of this. No offense to my husband; he works extremely hard and allows me the luxury of staying home with the kids. However, in this moment, I realized I wasn't able to experience the same "luxury" of taking three days off. Being a stay at home mom means, no days off. When youre sick, the world doesn't stop. Your toddlers certainly don't stop. So you, as the mom and house-manager, trudge through it. Because there is no other option or reason. Some are lucky to have family nearby that can cushion some of this blow. But unfortunately, that's not the case here. Instead, I facetimed my mom and cried to her, asking her to tell Grayson to be good for me. It worked (for a while).

I hate sometimes that these types of "problems" often come across as "complaining," but to me, just shows that a Mother's job never ends. We don't get to clock in, and clock out. We don't get paid lunch breaks. Often times I eat standing up, and pee with a rather curious audience (like when Grayson handed me toilet paper and told me to wipe my gina and did a horrendous digging motion with his hands). I don't get uninterrupted breaks. I don't physically see a paycheck deposited into my account.

This morning I woke up and before I got out of bed, I said a little prayer about being able to walk today. Thankfully, I can walk (at least). I made coffee, and waited for the monsters to wake up. I cooked them eggs and toast. I bribed grayson with a fruit snack to help get his sisters walker, and I slowly slowly lifted her in it. Getting her in and out of the crib has been a challenge. Babies want to be held and carried, and do not understand why* their mother isn't picking them up (torture).

I am realizing women are strong. Though I physically feel decrepid, I am appreciative of what women endure on a daily basis. Whether you work or stay home, being a mother is a 24/7 job that often goes without praise or recognition. Instead of binge watching Mad Men, or The Office (for the 56th time) posted up chillin' on meds, I am watching Paw Patrol while my kids nag and cry at my feet. "You should be THANKFUL. YOU HAVE THE BEST JOB IN THE ENTIRE WORLD....and an IMPORTANT ONE IF THAT." Well, Karen. Yes. Yes I do. I am "blessed" and "cursed" by this experience. I am** thankful. However, I am a human being. I am allowed to scowl and huff to myself, "this isn't fair!" While wanting to break down into tears. How dare I feel so selfish?

I am allowed to have bad days. Being a mom doesn't mean I am some bionic robot (though some days it definitely feels like it)

So here I am standing, slouched over the counter trying to rub a tennis ball into my lower back while my toddler screams, "THAT'S MY BAAAAAALLLLLLL MOM." All while my daughter also starts to scream (because her brother is screaming) I can't do anything but count to 10.

"Being a mom means having to choose between eating, showering, or sleeping. You can't do all three in one day" -unknown

Hug a mom, grandma or aunt today [or anyone that has raised you] and give yourself a pat on the back for being a bad ass super mom.