#even to people with anxiety and i think growing up with anxiety greatly shaped that

[thueenz]

for real though that post is so true on the love front i think about it all the time like why is everyone so LOVELESS not even just in like cishetero marriages where they hate each other just in general like platonic too. it drives me craaazy when im exposed to it like why are ppl like this !! why dont you love your friends and partner!! its like everything is a social game that theyre playing just for validation and lacking real connection and its a game where theyre always about 2 steps away from being bitter and hateful towards their friends/lover like STOOOOP! im someone who values love and kindness so much and it baffles me. why do you hate your partner! why do you talk about them like theyre an object of validation! why are you dating someone you clearly dislike! why are u so mean to ur friends behind their backs im cryin. why do you up and abandon them the second you get a partner bc you dont value them over the romantic validation you get. ive always been such an affectionate person at heart and i value what my friends say so much and i always find myself feeling so distant from people in relationships because they just feel?? so shallow?? and distant from me. like i think oh this preson gets me but theres ppl who say the same things how they value kindness and love but its always like, immediately clear they are actually a deeply mean person and just enjoy feeling like theyre 'good'. the way society functions with relationships feels so intensely shallow and i cannot connect to it at all. i love my friends and i love people and i always want to understand them and reach out with compassion and be close to them physically and emotionally speaking and talk a lot and listen to them. however im cursed to live in a world of 1 word responses if any at all and shallow relationships where no one gaf about each other and then i get told i talk too much. hello? *tapping mic* hello? is this thing on? be filled with whimsy and love going forward please. anyway does anyone else feel this way or is it just me feel free to talk about it if youd like

[honeylavenderangel]

Blog Post: Convention

In my early high school experience, from the 9th grade to the 10th grade I was apart of my school’s Anime Appreciation club. It wasn’t exclusive to anime, and it was actually called Animation Nation. While I was not very familiar with anime at the time, this place served as a safe space with other students who had interests that deviated from what was seen as the norm. As someone who has played a lot of video games before, I was aware of the intersection between people who were “gamers” and “anime” fans and this inspired me to take a chance and begin submersing myself into the world of Japanese entertainment. I have always dealt with a lot of social anxiety and for awhile I struggled with integrating myself into social groups and functions with the rest of my peers in high school. When I found Animation Nation, I found a place that I could feel comfortable in. I didn’t have to worry about being judged for getting into anime, I didn’t have to worry about whether or not my interests were too weird. My experience in Animation Nation reminds me of Genshiken (Part 1).

My experience in this club gave me a strong understanding of youth culture, because as a 13/14-year-old it was imperative to learn the importance of community and how to find it. My time as a teenager was full of insecurity, and as a middle schooler I personally felt like I took everyone’s opinions to heart and there was a point in time where other people’s views on my interests and hobbies affected me and made me feel shame. So by finding community centered around my interests, in this specific example years later in Animation Nation, it allowed me to explore an interest of mine in an environment without judgement or shame.

 In Genshiken (Part 1), while it centers the lives of university students, they are still collectively treated as like an outsider due to their participation in “Otaku” culture. Despite being alienated from their peers, they all found a sense of community and belonging with each other. This is what mirrored my experience as a member of Animation Nation, and greatly  shaped my perspective on youth culture. Additionally, I think there’s something to be said that when someone is in an environment they feel comfortable in, it’s easier for them to grow as they navigate their personal identity. I didn’t feel any shame in the few times that I had either attempted to cosplay a popular anime, or video game character, or even just dressing up in a way that I felt expressed my identity, because I was in an environment where I was supported unconditionally by the people that I was with.

In Genshiken (Part 2), the friendships that were made in (Part 1) by the characters transition from college to adult life friendships. When I compare this to my own personal experience, many of the initial friendships that I formed during my time in Animation Nation gave me a sense of belonging that extended beyond my time in the club itself. I realized that this community was not just about shared interests, but also about mutual support and understanding, which was crucial in helping me develop a stronger sense of self during a formative period of my life. Many of these people are still people that I keep in contact with today.

Not only did being apart of an anime fandom/ anime oriented organization help me feel comfortable in myself, it allowed me to try new things and step out of my comfort zone. Had I not experimented with makeup and cosplaying a couple of times in early high school I don’t think I would’ve learned the basics of doing my makeup until much later in life or developed the confidence to model, and wear experimental fashion in college. Navigating one’s culture identity in the face of adversity allows one to fully be confident in themselves and their own skin.

Image below: Myself and my cat feeling confident

[kyattoumann]

If manifestation is about energy, does that mean I can't be sad at all? I feel pressured because of this, because it's energy and once I get sad or worried about manifesting something, it won't happen.

I manifest a LOT. All the time in fact. And from my own personal experience, I get EXTREMELY depressed before one happens. Through introspection, I discovered it's normal. Kind of like the growing pains before something happens in the material world.

My spirit guides say, it is normal for us to experience negatives.

Think of it this way, if you eat just one food group for a year. And then you introduced something completely opposite, it would greatly affect negatively, right?

Well that's it, keeping a healthy balance between light and dark is important. You don't want one to overwhelm you.

And the more you manifest, the more one side grows. So you need to exercise the other other to match.

Good and bad will come no matter what energy or time/focus you put into.

The importance isn't manifesting, it's on SHAPING

Also, being an empath, I was attracting others energies from people and animals. Whether asleep or awake. And in some minute way, everyone does. That's co existence for you.

All our manifestations and wishes, big or small, do in fact, come. We just share everyone else's way of thinking, so it gets blurred or filtered. Or in more frustratingly so, someone else picks up on it. And is in a better predicament or capability to be seen to do it.

Which is why self isolation helps better for some in enlightenment.

And you have to be aware. Everything gives off energy. Not just people or animals. So, if you feel off during manifestations. Which is in fact, a good sign. Then you are more in tuned with energies as a whole, meaning, you can control your energies more.

But it takes work, listening to YOURSELF, not others what is at play at the time.

Also like the more you f— around and you'll find out saying, the more you manifest, the more consistent it will come. And sadly, the more negative will also come with it

You have to take the good, with the bad. The negativity or in some cases, the depression. It's the universe’s way or seeing how bad you want it. If you pull through, in due time your higher self and your higher power, will work together to synchronize with your manifestation, granting it to you.

And it's funny because, intentions and mood, in fact don't actually have to match.

My manifestations came whether happy or negative.

It comes just in lower quantity.

And the universe at times will make it as a puzzle you have to figure out yourself. Like for example, if you wanted a 200 dollars and a Batman & Superman comic when you were younger. 5 years later you will find an auction or listing online. Or at a garage sale. And a friend gave you 200 as a gift or a payment for helping them. Or through a bet.

But at the same time, you will need to buy a used Nintendo Switch, it has all the current games given too.

Now, if you wanted it bad enough, you'll remember. Hey I wanted this comic before. It will just come in your mind outta the blue.

And then on social media, people will be talking about superheroes. You’ll see blue and red, over and over.

And you start feeling creeped out or anxious on this.

So basically the universe will scream at you saying, hey it's happening. As I'm writing this, I am experiencing my own right now.

Because what people don't realize is, good karma also means wanted dreams becoming true too. And all karma debt has to be payed, right?

Because the universe will say, it knows you want this current new thing now, but it is trying to remind you wanted this.

And it will even shut your power or disconnect you to grab this manifestation you sent to yourself.

The negativity is important to better get you to identify what the universe telling. What you are telling yourself. Because the soul knows before the body, which it tells it. Where intuition and anxiety and such come from.

And your mind rejects it, because the world says it isn't possible what you synchronize to manifest is real.

The trick to manifesting ISN'T on the property of energies, it is identifying what that feeling is trying to tell you.

And sometimes, it takes awhile, because we haven't helped the people who needed help manifest. Or rather materializing what they want to help bring into the material world.

As I explained, we are coexisting, so we are all in some way, not always intentionally, getting in the way of others manifesting what they want.

So we are all shouting and the universe is listening to everyone’s shouts, not just from one's self.

Which is why the nice guys finish last is more accurate on this.

Because here's this quiet guy letting everyone speak, but when does he gets drowned out. And instead starts balling and can't speak so the universe waits til they can.

That's why manifestations take a long time. Some cases the universe will give good things people to distract them so they can to ones who are greatly hurting more than most.

Dreams don't take a long time to achieve, my own experiences taught me that. It's the fact that the higher existence is aware that we are not being there for our fellow man like we should.

And it doesn't care about the group, it appreciates the loving of an individual.

So wishes AREN'T being ignored, just that karma is creating a barrier so the universe can tend to the one screaming at the themselves inside. Not the ones bolstering for a common change.

(c) quora

[wrenreid]

Conflict of Interest

mature topics discussed in this story. all chapters in masterlist! content warning: smut, cannon consistent trauma, mentions of death penalty…

Chapter Twenty-One: The Black Widow

It’s been two weeks since the night you finally admitted to Spencer how you feel. Despite your anxieties and overthinking, it went well. No, it went great.

Things have been amazing since that night. You’ve stayed at his place a few times, grateful to not have to clean up in the multiple stall shower room with up to 19 other women. Instead, you can enjoy the solitude as you use Spencer’s bathroom and not have to worry about some girl taking your towel because she forgot hers or hearing people gossip as they’re literally naked. And it helps that the room smells like him.

Last night was one of those nights you slept over. You wake up with his arm tossed around your torso as you lay facing each other. Opening your eyes to soft brown curls messily framing a stubbly face and long eyelashes touching soft cheeks makes your heart melt at the sight.

He’s beautiful. He is a lion sleeping peacefully. Many may not think of a lion as beautiful, but they are, even if they can be angry and dangerous, they are passionate and loving. You think of Spencer this way. Sometimes, he lets things get the best of him and his negative emotions override his senses, but usually he is a gentle and caring creature who’s just been misunderstood and mistreated.

You don’t know the extent of all of what Reid has been through in his life. You know his father left him as a child, and his mother’s health is not in good shape and hasn’t been for a while. You know he’s been shot, stabbed, punched, and tackled throughout his career. You know he was drugged by an unsub and that affected him greatly, still does. But you also know there’s things he hasn’t told you. For one, prison. A google search of just three words will tell you Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU was thrown in prison for a crime that evidence later showed he did not commit.

You’d read some articles about it, but you couldn’t read more than just a few paragraphs. It felt like an invasion of privacy. If he wanted you to know, he would’ve told you. And you haven’t dared tell him you know. You’re not sure why he’s so reluctant to open up about it. He was found innocent, and the record was practically expunged. You wish you could assure him that you wouldn’t see him any different if he told you his past. And if you did, you’d see him as stronger. But you’ll let him come to you in his own time.

After staring at his beautiful face for a little too long, you can’t help but brush the curls out of his eyes and kiss his nose. Your hand lingers on the side of his face and you see the corners of his lips turn up into a smile.

“That’s not the worst way to be woken up way earlier than you wanted to be,” Spencer says with a morning rasp that makes your heart beat a little off. He opens his eyes slowly, and the smile on his face only grows at the sight of you.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re just too darn cute.”

“What I’m hearing is I’m irresistible.” His voice is a little too arrogant, but you’ll allow it.

“You are,” you nod, a soft grin plastered on your face.

Spencer pulls you closer and plants a dozen kisses on your face, causing a loud giggle to release from your lips. Finally, you catch his face in your hands and stop him. Your thumb brushes over semi-harsh stubble that tickles your skin. You lean in, kissing his lips gently.

“No offense to Nina, but you’re definitely my favorite person to wake up to,” you say, pressing your forehead to his.

“And you are mine.” There’s an undertone of protective possessiveness in his words. Not only did he mean you are his favorite person to wake up to, but he meant you are his. His person. His girl. The thought makes your stomach do ten cartwheels at once.

“That I am,” you say with a cocky smile then hop off his bed and onto your feet.

“Where are you going?” You can hear the pout on his lips.

“Shower. I need to wash last night’s sex off me,” you chuckle softly, grabbing your clothes from the over night bag you brought.

“How about I join you, so I can make sure all of the sex germs are clear from your skin… and maybe add some more.”

You gasp dramatically. “Dr. Reid, are you suggesting shower sex before class? Outrageous!” Your smile is unable to be concealed.

Spencer raises from his bed, standing in front of you with a devious grin. “I think I am. My good little TA deserves it.”

Your cheeks burn tomato red, and the feeling in your core is undeniable. You grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom, practically seeing his victoriously smug smile from the back of your head.

Once the two of you reach the bathroom, Spencer, leans in to kiss you, but you stop him.

“Nuh uh uh.” You wave a finger to him dramatically.

The genius looks at you confused, but his eyes widened happily as you begin to lift the t shirt over your head, revealing your body to him. The boxers you stole from him are next, and you turn around to take them off, bending down to give him a show as you slip them down your legs.

“God, the things you do to me, princess,” he groans lowly, eyes still on you as you turn to face him again.

“I think I know one of them,” you grin.

“And what’s that?”

Your fingertips trail down from his chest to the elastic of his sweatpants. You slide them under and touch just above his crotch. Standing on your tippy toes, you whisper in his ear. “I make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” It was totally arrogant, but you believe you had the right to say so.

“Yes, yes you do.”

You smile proudly then let your fingers graze his dick ever so softly. He makes a soft noise which only makes your smile grow. “Now tell me, Doctor, when I touch you like this how do you feel?”

You like when you can explore your more dominant side with him. Usually, he takes charge, and you do not complain because you love it. But sometimes it is nice to be the one making the orders.

“It makes me feel like I want to fuck you into another dimension.”

His sentence makes your core throb, but you can ignore your own needs for now. You take hold of his dick and pump slowly. After a moment, you remove your hand from his pants, causing a low, whine-like sound to come out of his mouth. “Let’s get into the shower shall we?”

He doesn’t complain, he slips out of his sweatpants and turns on the water as you grab two towels. You step in first, letting the warm water run down your body and wet your hair. Your eyes close as you enjoy the sensation.

Big hands grab hold of your waist and pull you away from the stream of relaxing water. You open your eyes to lustful hazel ones staring back at you.

“As much as I don’t appreciate when you tease me,” Spencer says, “I think I can let it slide for now.”

You smile smugly. “So gracious.”

“Watch it, darling. I may not be so kind later.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. His lips automatically become passionate and heated on yours. His tongue slips through the seem of your lips, taking its rightful dominance. Spencer’s hands trail down from your waist to your hips to your ass, giving it a small slap that makes you laugh into his mouth.

Eventually, you’re sliding down onto your knees and taking hold of his erection before putting it into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip before bobbing up and down on him slowly. His hands grip your wet hair, moans leave his mouth. Your speed quickens once you’re somewhat comfortable, and your hands grip his thighs.

“Fuck, Y/n…” he breathes lowly. “I-”

You know he’s growing closer to his finish, and you don’t stop until you know he’s about to cum. You slide your mouth off of him and push your tits together, telling him to cum on you.

He obliges with no complaints. Once Spencer catches his breath, he helps you to your feet.

“You are an angel sent from Heaven… or perhaps a very sexy devil sent to ruin me,” he says and you grin a little.

You run your fingers on your chest and slip them into your mouth, tasting his finish. Before looking up at him with ‘innocent’ eyes.

“I think it’s the latter,” Spencer says as he cups your face and plants a kiss to your lips.

“Would you please fuck this devil into another dimension?” You ask in your most innocent voice.

“I would do anything for that adorable face,” he says with a smile.

He leans you up against the shower wall, making sure your steady as he pulls your legs up around his hips. Spencer’s mouth finds your neck, one hand on your ass and the other stabilizing him by leaning on the tile behind you.

You moan in his ear at the sensation of his lips on your neck and collar bone. His teeth graze the now sensitive spots, causing you to whine his name. Before your mouth can stop whining, he’s slipping himself into you, and you’re noises are even louder. His pace is slow at first, in rhythm of him kissing your shoulder.

But soon enough, his thrusts are hard and fast and overriding all of your senses. All you can feel is him: his body pressed against yours, his lips trailing down from your ear to your chest, his length inside your throbbing core.

“Spencer,” you whine his name again. “Spence…” Your nails scratch down his back as he continues to fuck the shit out of you. Both of your moans are in sync.

Your legs shake aggressively, and your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you clench around him, coming to your climax. Your vision goes hazy. You practically scream the moans and curses as your heart pounds as fast as a rabbit’s.

Spencer finishes for the second time, pulling out before doing so. “Holy shit, Y/n..” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. He turns his attention back to you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m amazing. I just need to come back to this dimension before I can move,” you say with a slight chuckle.

He kisses your head softly and assist you in taking the shower that you’d originally planned to done with by now.

—

Spencer was called into the Quantico halfway through his lesson about microexpressions, so class was dismissed early. No one really minded since that meant an extra forty minutes of free time.

You and Nina head to your room after hanging out with your friends in the lounge.

“God, I am so sore,” you groan, rubbing your thigh as you plop on your bed.

“Yeah, this morning’s training kind of killed.”

“Yeah,” you almost chuckle, “that’s why I’m sore.”

“Y/n!” Nina exclaims. “Gross!”

“Like you haven’t said worse,” you laugh, looking over at her dramatically disgusted face

She gives you a ‘touché’ look before leaning against the wall. “So you had sex last night?”

You nod. “And this morning. And the night before last.”

“Oh my God,” they laugh in astonishment. “What has this man done to you?”

“Oh so you want details?” You tease and she throws a pillow at you.

She’s been handling this secret really well. Nina hasn’t even almost slipped up.

Crawling into bed, you worry about Spencer. He hasn’t texted you all day, and usually he tells you at least once that things are going well or he’ll be gone for a while. But there’s no notifications from him.

—

Spencer’s POV (been a while hasn’t it?)

I rip my tie off, needing anything to help breathing be easier. My chest rises and falls at pace so fast, you’d think I just ran a marathon. I feel like I’m choking.

This woman, the black widow killer, is requesting I go on a date with her. A date with the woman who has done nothing but torment me and ruin my life sound like the worst nightmare I could possibly imagine. She is evil and cunning. And if I have ever truly hated someone with my entire being, it’s her.

Sure, a part of me was and probably always will be drawn to her. I don’t know why I am, and I wish I could stop being almost fascinated by her existence.

I hate her. I do. But she’s also a magnet my sheet metal heart continues to stick to.

I can’t do this to Y/n. I can’t go on a date with anyone else let alone someone who could easily get into my head, or worse hers. She doesn’t deserve this.

JJ and Luke are begging me not to go. But I almost feel like I have to. This could be the chance to finally be rid of her before they stick the needle in her arm and she goes to sleep forever.

I once thought Cat Adams would be the death of me, and she very well may still be, but at least now I have something to hold on to. Her.

chapter twenty two

tags: @reidsprettygirl @reidsmilf @reidslovely @awhoreforspencerreid @sexualityisajoke @nomajdetective @kenreadsfanfics @calicocatty @hotchandspencearedilfs @kodiakwhiskey @rory-cakes @444verse @kbakery <3

[prfctethereal]

Can you write James Potter smut please. Thank you

frosted hearts. | james potter

pairing: single dad!james potter x preschool teacher!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: NSFW. smut, sub!james, dom!reader, talk of masturbation, talk of punishment, mommy kink, praise kink, tit sucking, thigh riding, slap and degrading kink only for a short amount of time at the end

summary: you are harry’s preschool teacher and one day james is late to picking his son up from school

**

It was hard to be around screaming toddlers, all day, every day. By the end of your long shifts, your head was blistered by the engraved sound of whining, moaning, and that smacking sound the children make with their lips.

But for the most part, you loved being around kids. Their tenderness brought so much joy to you and you were happy to have become an early childhood teacher. Your workplace was loving, with your fellow teachers continuously supporting you through everything. Even the kids were decently nice.

The age old stigma that kids were devil spawn seemed like the most foreign concept to as you coddled a near sleeping three year old, his warm body curled up to your side. Reading a children’s story to the kids, you felt so much adoration for the children around you, enough to make your cheeks rouge. All of them looked at you with doe eyes as you finished the last page.

“And the princess and the prince fell in love and lived happily ever after.” You closed the book with a soft clap. “The end.”

Looking around, the children beamed, flashing their pearly, toothy smiles towards you. In that moment, you felt at peace, almost content, knowing that you were bringing enjoyment to the kids surrounding you. Gently, you stroked the arm of the nearest child, Harry, as he slowly unraveled from your side.

“Miss?” Harry asked placidly, his tiny fingers down playing with the hem of your skirt. He looked up at you, fluttering his long eyelashes.

“Yes, Harry?” You responded, once you knew that he wasn’t going to speak without permission.

“Do you have a prince?”

At those words, you frowned, your smile disappearing from your face. Admittedly, you have been quite lonely for the past year. Focusing on work has been devastating for your social life. After your messy breakup with your previous partner, you felt like it was unnecessary to rush into another relationship. Quickly enough, those days turned into months, and eventually a year. Your dry spell was becoming quite unbearable.

As the winter months closed in, you wished for more comfort at night. The smoking fireplace could only fill your lonely apartment with so much warmth before you got desperate - needy - for something more. Some nights were spent with your fingers curled up into your cunt, tight from the months of neglect, desperately trying to churn some pleasure out of you, but, there was only so much your own fingers could do. They couldn’t go nearly as deep enough, or stretch you nearly as much as you so deeply desired. You were starting to become flustered just thinking about it.

“No.” Your reply was short, until you realised the kids around you would want a longer explanation. Sighing, you folded your hands in your lap, pursing your lips forward. “I’m not a princess of any sort. Even then, sometimes people don't have someone with them.”

“Just like my Daddy.” Harry babbled unprompted, dawdling away from you to join the midst of his pre-school friends. “He is all alone too.”

You knew Harry’s father, and just the thought of him made you curl your toes in delight. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Deep hazel eyes that light up when he laughs. Plump pink lips that frame his mischievous smile. Strong, muscular arms, complimenting his toned hands, that you can imagine wrapped around your neck...

Before you could even process the dubious insult thrown your way, you felt a sprinkling of fingers press lightly against your shoulders, snapping you out of your daze. Furrowing your eyebrows, you traveled your eyeline up, locking eyes with another teacher who worked there, Lily.

She looked absolutely wrecked. You knew she had been on the phone for most of the afternoon, for reasons you didn’t know, but you expected that you were going to be told now, as she beckoned you away from the kids.

“One moment.” You held up your finger, showing the kids an example of counting. As you walked away, you saw the kids out of the corner of your eye. They too had one finger in the air, repeating the same word - “One!” - over and over to each other. It was very cute.

“Roads have been closing because of the weather.” Lily started, her nimble fingers gesturing out of the frosted window panes. She was right; the roads were starting to look pretty bad. A thin layer of snow seemed to be shredding downwards, coating the town like powdered sugar. The sun stayed behind the clouds, not even daring to peek through, keeping the town in a cold flurry, and keeping the children inside. This was going to be a long shift.

“So, we’ll have to stay here longer tonight?” You asked, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. You brought the pads of your index fingers up to the window pane, feeling the chill of the temperature seem into your skin. WIthout realising it, you traced a heart shape into the frost, your own heart sighing as you exhaled.

“Hopefully not.” Lily replied. “I’ve contacted all the parents and have told them to come pick up their kids as soon as possible. This storm seems to not be slowing down any time soon. So, potentially, we might be able to go home early, if the children all get picked up before the snow gets too thick. And, don’t bother coming in tomorrow. The snow’s gonna settle, meaning there will be road closure all across town.”

“Great.” A sarcastic laugh poured from your mouths as you turned back to the kids, who were still being occupied by the thought of having one finger in the air. “We should start getting them ready then.”

You and Lily worked diligently side by side, bundling the kids up in layers of soft clothing, keeping them secure from the storm. The kids joined in too, helping to clean the classroom, picking up litter off of the floor, and clearing off tables. As you sprayed down the surfaces of the tables and kitchen counters, you hummed a soft tune, getting into the rhythm of cleaning.

While you were occupied with cleaning, parents started arriving, greeting their kids with loving smiles and gentle touches. You melted as the kids ran excitedly into their parents arms, wrapping themselves around their mums and dads, wishing to not let go. In those sweet moments, you felt a fleeting pang of loneliness. You longed for your own child, and with that, a loyal husband. You breathed out a sigh, something that was becoming quite regular for you by now.

As more and more parents arrived, you saw the sun trickle behind the horizon. Soon, the night sky appeared, painting the sky in hues of indigo and cerulean. As much as you loved the night, you didn’t love the idea of being stuck here all night, and neither did Lily, who was looking even more restless than you.

Her ginger hair fell across her face, partially blocking her vision as she lethargically signed out the second to last kid. Deep, violet bags were forming under her eyes, her skin borderline white from her exhaustion. It was getting hard to look at.

“Why don’t you just go home?” Your offer made Lily perk her head up. “You look way too tired to even continue standing on two feet.”

“I couldn't do that to you.” Lily yawned, clasping her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. “And besides, Harry hasn’t been picked up yet. I still have to do my job.”

You looked at her with pity in your eyes. You hadn’t seen her this exhausted in years, and you knew her anxiety was bubbling up as more and more snow fell onto the ground. “Please just go Lily. It’s only Harry; I can monitor him by myself. You need to get home before the snow gets heavier.” Before she could butt in, you continued. “Besides, Harry much prefers me over you.”

Lily laughed, closing you tightly into a friendly hug. “Thank you so much. I’ll get you back another day. Are you sure you’re all good closing up on your own?”

“Go home.” You waved her away dismissively. Lily bounced around and in only five minutes, she had collected herself, and had dashed out the door, leaving only you and Harry in the pre-school.

He was looking quite tired himself, which was understandable. By now, it was nearly eight o’clock at night, a time you knew was well past his bedtime. Harry had curled himself up on one of the naptime beds himself, his raven hair falling over his eyes. Staying by his side, you caressed his back, until he fell into a soft slumber.

You felt lonely again. Harry was asleep and there was nothing left for you to do until Harry’s father arrived to pick him up. You knew a few things about Harry’s father, from the fleeting conversations you had had over the time Harry had been at this school. You knew his name was James, and he looked like heaven. Everytime you glanced his way, you felt yourself grow wet. It probably was a problem, but your secret crush didn’t hurt anyone, so you kept it secret.

Long after it had become dark, you finally saw canary coloured headlights glint in the distance. It was a relatively nice car, something you’d expect a well paid ministry worker, like James, to drive. You watched attentively as the car parked slowly and surely. Then, the car door opened, and you got your first look of James for the day.

He definitely looked a little tired but there was something endearing about it. His fluffy brown hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through it greatly. His round glasses sat low on his nose bridge, with his natural eyes scanning the area. There, he locked eyes with you through the window, the same window you had drawn your pathetic heart on. Right then, James was positioned right in the middle of the heart, condensation like a halo.

Before you knew it, James had opened up the door into the school, realising a sigh of relief when he was hit by the warmth of the classroom. Dramatically, he closed the door behind him, leaning up against the frame, apologies falling from his lips like rain from the sky.

“I’m so sorry I was late. Traffic was crazy. Too many road closures.” James seemed frantic, but the solidarity of the preschool was definitely calming his mood down.

“There’s no need to apologise, Mr Potter. Harry is delightful to look after.”

“Please,” James held out his hand, “call me James.” You intertwined your fingers with hsi, shaking his hand ever so lightly, the same hand you had fantasised about. It was everything you dreamed of.

“I should drive Harry home now.” James broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension, making you want to salivate. You didn’t like the idea of James driving in his state, especially since he looked so tired. If anything, he would need some caffeine in him before the journey.

You reached your hand up, stroking his right cheek with your left hand, concern filling your eyes. “Oh, please James, you look so tired. Let me make you a cup of tea before you journey back home. You look as though you need it.”

James chuckled. “Alright then, just one though. Besides, Harry seems to be having a lovely nap. Wouldn't want to disturbed him now, would we?”

You guided James into the back kitchen through a secret door. Here was your break room where you could have some peace and quiet away from the kids. It was one of your favourite places in the entire school, because even though you loved the kids, sometimes you just needed a place to help you unwind, and unwind you did. Countless times you had fallen asleep back here and had dreamed of James.

“We have Earl Grey. Is that okay?” You looked through your cupboards, eyes locking onto a small red box, tea bags flooding out of it. Personally, you weren’t a big fan of it, that's why there were still so many, but James didn’t seem to mind it.

“Please, sounds lovely, dear.”

You worked in silence, turning the kettle on to boil. Carefully, you dunked a tea bag into a mug, swirling it around in your fingers as you waited for the water to boil. The emptiness of volume was killing; you could’ve heard a pin drop. James was the one to speak up first.

“Harry really likes you. He talks about you often.”

“Oh really?” You chuckled in disbelief, facing away from James, fiddling with some lint of your sweater.

“Yes. Sometimes, he even calls you Mum. I’m happy that he has a mother figure like you to look after him.” You chuckled when hearing James’ words, which confused him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said, reaching for the kettle. “He’s just not the only one to have called me Mommy before.”

James furrowed his brows, even more confused. “You have kids of your own?”

“Not quite.” You swung your head around, throwing James a cheeky grin. That’s when he understood what you meant. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his pants seeming just a bit tighter than before. It was definitely hotter in the room.

“What normally happens when people call you that?” James asked, testing the waters. As you stood to move around, the chair scraped against the wooden floors, alerting you of his prowling presence.

When he was a mere inch away from you, you smirked once again. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” You weren’t sure where this rush of confidence was coming from but you both seemed to not want to slow down.

Consciously, James raised his hand to your cheek, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His soft hands lingered a little too long, before his eyes flickered downwards towards your lips. You knew what he wanted, but you never took him for the shy type. Something about this made you aroused. Needing relief desperately, you lunged forwards, connecting your lips to his.

It was everything you thought it would be. Hungry, passionate, skilled. Your lips melded perfectly together with his, as his lips sucked gently on your top lip. Yearning for something more, you moved your hands down to his ass, giving James an experimental squeeze. Just like how you wanted, he gasped, giving you the perfect entrance to insert your tongue into his ready mouth. He moaned, his lips vibrating against you.

“Show your Mommy how much you need her.” You pulled away, whispering those words at the shell of his ear. You could hear James whimper in front of you, positioning himself so he was straddling one of your thighs, as you were pushed up against the counter tops.

James’ fingers worked at the hem of your sweater. Eager to remove as many clothes as possible from you, he tugged at the edge, slow whimpers escaping his pretty mouth, as you tilted your head down to his neck, aching to leave soft love bites on his skin.

He was getting needier and more submissive by the minute, but to you, he was acting like a brat. “That’s not how we ask for something we want, is it baby? Use your words.”

“Please Mommy, may I take your sweater off?”

With a curt nod, you obliged, watching James’ eyes light up in fascination. Quickly, he pulled your sweater over your head, glad to see that your thin shir had stuck to the material of your sweater, leaving you in just a bra on top. His eyes were transfixed by the way your nipples were hard on your pert breasts, sticking out from your bra.

“Can I take your bra off please, Mommy?” James’ hands had already made their way around your torso, preparing for the inevitable.

“Yes love, good boy for asking.” You felt James grow harder against your thigh as you praised him, a thought that made you smirk in delight and what could be in store.

Like you were made of glass, James slipped the bra off of your shoulders, dragging it slowly off of your arms. You knew he wasn’t teasing on purpose, as it seemed that he was distracted by the sight of your tits, but you needed relief anyway, bucking your thigh up against his crotch as encouragement. “They’re all yours.”

Delighted, James leaned in, his whole mouth engulfing your nipple. With vigour, he bagan sucking, the pleasure of it going straight down into your core. You moaned loudly, something you learned that egged James on. Greedily, he started rubbing his hands down your side, eager to feel all of your skin. You didn’t mind though, as you were lost in your own moment.

“Good- good boy.” You stuttered out as James’ mouth left the centre of the nipple, beginning to suck small bruises into the side of your boob. Normally, you would punish him - well, anyone - for doing that without permission, but you didn’t care at that moment.

Content with his handiwork, James moved onto your next nipple, ready to give you the same amount of pleasure as last time. As he worked your nipple to a bright scarlet like the last one, you noticed a curious movement with his hips. Looking down, you saw James, rutting his hips into you, humping your thigh as if he was a bitch in heat. You moaned at the sight.

“You like that, huh? You like,” -  you jolted your thigh upwards - “Mommy’s thigh?”

“Mmm, so good.” James mumbled against your tit. You knew he was close to coming, but you weren’t quite done with him yet. Pulling him away from your body, you looked into his eyes to see a hurt expression, something you didn’t like seeing. Luckily, it wasn’t going to last long.

“If you can make Mommy cum from your tongue, then I’ll let you cum on my thigh, alright?” With an excited nod of his head, James immediately sunk to his knees, diving his head underneath your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, stretching the fabric of your panties to the side so he had the best access possible. When you heard a muffled “Oops” against your thigh, you could tell that your panties had snapped from James’ force, but you didn’t mind. He made up for it by being so damn skilled.

He dove in nearly straight away, his tongue licking straight up the lips of your cunt, lapping at it as if it was his first ever meal. The end of his tongue teased the entrance to your velvet walls, pressing in ever so slightly and pulling away, creating tension and frustration for you. But it felt so good.

“Feels so good, darling. Doing so good, my good boy. My good, good boy.” You knew he was spurred on by praise, so you gave him what he needed. Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him down slightly, taking the tiniest amount of control back.

When he began sucking at your clit, that's when you really felt the tide going out. It was ebbing at your senses, the only indication being your shaking body and the mewling whimpers coming from your mouth. This only encouraged James further to topple you over the edge.

Slowly, James brought his fingers up to your cunt, teasing your entrance with his finger. Then, he slipped it inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around his finger. You were so tight that James dreamed of how you would feel around his cock, these thoughts going straight to his straining dick in his pants. He needed relief, so he worked faster, inserting another finger and pumping faster.

You were so close by now. The combined stimulation of James’ lips suctioning at your clit and his fingers working in and out of you was too much. With one last hard suck, you felt your orgaasm wash over you like a tsunami. You could hardly hold yourself up, and that was evident by the way you toppled to your side. The only reason you didn’t hit the floor was because of James’ lightning fast reflexes, keeping you upright.

“Did I do good, Mommy?” James asked, his shiny eyes looking up at you with adoration, his lips glistening with your cum. You smiled sweetly down at him, stroking his cheek with your hand, until you pulled it back and gave him a harsh slap across his face.

“It was so good baby, but I thought I said only using your tongue?” James had the look of realisation on his face, but you kept going. “Naughty boys who don’t follow rules have to be punished, and I don't think you want to get put in the Naughty Corner, do you?”

James whimpered, but it sounded like he was enjoying the degradation. A smile spread across your face.

“Oh so you do? Good boy.”

[nodameshield]

how are we doing? have the tears dried yet? I know mine haven’t :: 

let’s start light : research fellows count ! (also, lady, only ten years old? - I resent that).

Goh understands this?? he’s got a silly proud smile and it’s following Ash’s butchered storytelling??? love 

research fellows count ! 

perfectly attainable dream 

sure, go for it.  (look at both of their supportive lil smiles, we love best friends) 

we all know the scene that’s coming ahead, but I thought this was a beautiful demonstration of growth already on Goh’s side.

Listen before the sad part begins let us appreciate for a moment how Ash and Goh were smiling at EACH OTHER after the interview was over. cuties. 

behold : the last frame we have of baby Sobble. I’m going to miss you, bean. thank you for everything<3 (he was so proud of his good deed as well!! my very heart) 

just how fast the night changes, indeed.

Drizzle went through shock and pain at record speed and swiftly landed on anger - only to fall into ✨depression✨ just as quickly.

and then we just stayed there.

someone 

is 

(oh hey Cinderace ! good to see ya)

having  

a rough morning

 (I’m sorry, this scene was just fucking funny - the drama)

Cinderace’s proud big bro moment was just too sweet to leave out - let us not forget, he’s been a big bro since he was Raboot (and even as a temperamental Raboot, he was always gentle to Sobble). And now his baby bro has evolved as well. precious ! 

Goh handled this situation very maturely from the beginning. And here’s when the build up starts. He’s saying ��hey, let me help you how I think you need to be helped” and he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm! naturally, his reaction is to help his Pokémon, in the way that has worked in the past.

but then he starts to understand maybe that’s not the best approach this time around.

and he’s ready to respect those new boundaries (of course, there’s no blame on Cinderace, either. Much like Goh, he - and everyone, really - was just trying to help in the way he thought was the best).

shoutout to the animation on this bit because Pikachu’s ears darting down was a delightful detail. Chloe’s expression and Grookey’s simmering down drove the point home as well.

ah, you coy little thing. Did you forget how your trainer almost left you behind because of how rebellious you were??? Because you made him feel as though you’d be better off without him?? (Cinderace has selective memory, you can’t change my mind, don’t be miss-leaded by the cuteness)

this build up was wonderful - we begin to hear all these reasons why, yeah? maybe he just wants to be alone.

maybe he’s still very afraid and careful of his surroundings, and his evolution made it worse? (he’d been popping up in random places in previous episodes, hiding, which was also great foreshadowing for this episode !) 

maybe he’s cocooning himself until he’s ready to evolve again? (which, considering his disappointment and how badly he wanted to be Inteleon already, is a very plausible reason)

but Prof. Cerise gets it right when he says ‘we can’t really know for sure’ (which ties greatly with Goh’s upcoming scene) - is it your Drizzle’s quirk? are they all like this? who cares? Isn’t wonderful how he’s a living creature? how he’s got nuances and a personality? shouldn’t that be enough of a reason to look after him, and try to help him right now?

my child, still thinking he’s got to do everything on his own.

and these two are just like ????? Goh ??? watchu talking about ???

can you imagine how MUCH this moment means to him?? he was ready to keep going alone (it’s what he knows) and even when Ash and Chloe prove him, time and time again, that he’s not alone, there’s still something in Goh coded to believe others won’t care as much/won’t be there when he needs them. and that’s why he insists: I’ve got this. I can do it alone.

and, sure, but you don’t have to. that’s the beauty of friendship.

you tell him, Chloe. (actually, without Chloe calling him out, he might have taken longer to figure out where Drizzle was. so...) // but also, it gives us a glimpse into the fact that, while Goh might have felt very lonely, Chloe has been observing and caring for him - in her way - for a long minute as well.

my very point above. 

HEY, LISTEN: he doesn’t know, either. he’s a child, words are hard, and you rotate along the four moods of childhood (happy, upset, scared, hungry (?)) and don’t ponder much on anything else because you are a child, there’s no emotional intelligence to speak of, no need for it, you’re being shaped by your environment and all the stimuli of the world being a new place. things like loneliness, confusion, anxiety... we can’t put those into words - hell, they’re fucking abstract and confusing even when we are adults.

and Goh’s stimuli and environment was, given what we know of his family life, a rather lonely one. Did his parents have a lot of spare time to take him to the park? I don’t think so. Was he good at going out there and asking other kids to play? ... probably not. 

Chloe doesn’t strike me as an extrovert, either, so even if she wanted to get close to Goh or invite him to hang out, perhaps she was too shy as well. Heck, perhaps Goh’s reaction would’ve been like the one above, he simply didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to ! and that’s perfectly fine as well.

am I forgiving the anipoke team for making Goh cry? no, never. but this was beautifully executed so I can grow to live with it.

“why are you depressed?” “you have nothing to be sad about!” “look at all the wonderful things you have!” “just be happy again!” - sound familiar? yeah, this was incredibly well done.

as adults, perhaps we see this and think ‘shit, how cool that they’re prodding on these topics, it’s important’ and it is !!! so important !! but if it’s this impactful as young-adults/grown-ups, imagine how impactful it must be as a child to see this and feel perceived. I’m honestly so proud of this moment, this whole episode. I’m grateful they took the time to look into this maturely. and even if children don’t do a full-fledged analysis on it, if they relate (like I know so many of us did) they won’t forget it. and that’s beautiful.

darling I’m blanking on your TW handle I’m so sorry - but someone in a tweet SO RIGHTFULLY pointed out that these are the words Goh would have needed to hear when he was younger. saying them to Drizzle it’s a full circle moment for him, he’s hearing them as well, and it’s helping both of them grow.

He’s not forcing himself as Drizzle’s trainer. Goh bears no entitlement here. He’s saying ‘Hey, if you’re comfortable, if you want to share , I’ll be here’ / as a kid, people did care for him, they kept wanting to know what was going on, but Goh couldn’t put that in words and people pestering him only made it worse, but if someone had said ‘hey, when you’re ready...’ then,,,,yeah,,,,maybe it would’ve been different. 

he’s offering that safety now to his Pokémon, something he didn’t have, but he grew to understand is what he (and now Drizzle) needed. If that doesn’t have you breaking down in a teary mess then you are stronger than I’ll ever be, because my glasses were cloudy by this point.

why, why, why. because you needed to hear all that as well, baby! so did a number of us. thank you.

I’ll say that, however it was that you connected with this moment, that’s yours to cherish. 

Personally, I too had a lonely childhood marked by parents who overworked, and I too spent a lot of time alone in kindergarten and through elementary school because it was hard to make friends (turns out i’m an extrovert, ha, talk about breaking out of your shell...) so, obviously there were easy common grounds for me in this episode.

but I LOVED to read the reactions and realize so many people still connected with it, one way or the other. So many of us felt seen and understood and acknowledged in emotions that are so hard to put into words !! 

so, again, if you identified with Goh or Drizzle or any of the topics in this episode, that’s very beautiful, and I hope the underlying message that you’re not alone gets through.

With Sobble, and now with Drizzle as well, Goh is very adamant to remind us that, however we are, that’s fine. there’s something that makes us special, regardless of other people’s opinions, or their ideas of how we *should be* // that’s the message I’m taking with me, at least.

 and i can’t wait to see how this story line evolves !! I have no doubts that, when the moment comes, Inteleon will be a wonderful addition to the team, but Drizzle is here now, and he’s plenty wonderful already x

Bonus: 

ha ha, yes. I watched this episode three times. And all three times I was a mess.

side note but a very important one: the animation, the voice acting, the dialog, the scenery of the starry night - the entire scene was so beautifully executed. so  carefully crafted. ugh, amazing. just perfect. so happy.

[bioodorange]

||How I See The Pastas||

© @frozensriracha, for some help with visuals!!

This was originally supposed to be how they looked but I decided to go for mental aspect and explain why as well PLEASE like, reblog and share your thoughts on this in the comments or inbox

Below the desciptions are images i’ve compiled and some art (if you know the creator please tell me so i can credit them) for a visual

dont forget to like reblog and share your thoughts with me, I spent a few days on this so i’d appreciate this

Jeff the Killer

So lets start with the obvious- jeffs pasty white toothpaste lookin skin

But realistically he wouldn’t be completely covered in scars

It would be blotchy, with pink fleshy patches among the burns

He most likely has contracture scars, third degree burns that turn the skin a pale white and tighten the skin

This explains his gaunt features and skin color

Now we have to take into account the vodka that was splashed on him, he’d probably have worse burns there with exposed flesh and damaged nerves

This would result in gnarly exposed skin, a damaged scalp and maybe damage to his teeth and eyes

Realistically, Jeff wouldnt have burned off his eyelids that alone would have resulted in blindness and death

Than his smile, his signatuure mark would probably be more of a gangly bloody scar mess

Pastas heal faster and aren’t really human, he’d have to recut his smile pretty frequently making it pretty jacket up because ltes be honest hes far from clean

ANd than his hait being chard black is very unlikely because as nasty as he is he s h o w e r s

not very frequnetly given his living situation and untreated burns but people can figure out how to wash hait and not much else

also i think its funny he’d shower with a plastic bag on his face to avoid getting soap in his nasty infected scars-

His hair would probably be dry and cut unevenly, more of a dark brown color with blonde undertones

Not to mention his burned scalp, hair probably wouldn’t grow there so he’d have a cool unintentional side shave

Jeff would also be a tall individual, he cant really eat, snacking on things from his victims homes giving him a more skeletal build

His personality and mindest is about as pretty as his face- but he most likely has a very screwed up headspace

Lacking in self care, maturity and sanity its fair to say he’d be a brash and violent person

Fun Fact: While researching this I learned that some versions of the joker had facial scars in the shape of a smile

Ticci Toby

So tobys age, unlike a lot of pastas, is pretty well agreed on, 19

So unlike when he was first a proxy toby most likely has stronger facial features and facial hair

Because shaving and hygiene isn’t first priority for pastas (gross-)

He stands around 5′7 and has grayish skin

Toby i feel is picky about foods, not only is it hard for him to eat its hard for him to keep food down

He’s malnourished explaining his thin figure and grayish skin

His hait is dark brown and a curlish mess, unkempt but short so it doesn’t get in his way

I’ve always seen him with a small gap in his teeth, because I can

And since toby can’t feel shit I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to eat rocks simply because he fuckin could

So some chipped teeth that are a bit uneven

Along with his CIPA and not eating enough Toby would bruise easily and have lots of scars, from things like cutting his finger on accident or getting mauled by a racoon

I wouldn’t be surpised if some of his joints were a bit screwed up, because whenever theyd beak or fracture he wouldn’t notice, this would probably happen a lot causing them to not heal correctly

One of tobys habits is nailbiting but he cant te;; when too far is too far

His fingers may be abit odd looking, knobby and discolored nails because of how exetreme his habit is

Would most likely have bandages around his fingers frequently to prevent the habit

So theres a lot of debate about tobys cheek was it the CIPA or the car accident, I beileve the accident because his other cheek is completely fine, theres damage from the OUTSIDE to inside and considering his sister died in the accident its unlikely he survived unscathed

Fun Fact: only a small handful of people have ever been diagnosed with CIPA, less than 500 (documented) cases around the world

Bloody Painter

So Helen is often seen as quiet emo painter boy 

but uh no <3

Personaly i beileve he suffers from narcisistic personality disorder, exetreme importance and that he is always victorious and gets what he wants

This sporuts from the constant heavy invalidation from classmates, toxic friends and neglect from his parents

He doesn’t hang out with people because he doesn’’t lie them its because they never let him in the past and he beileves he’s better than them

But this also links to deep rooted insecurity and social anxiety/being inept completely

Him being nice is basically so you like him, he wants validation amd admiration not love

Unlike the other pastas he’d be a more clean well kept one a helthy figure and some tattoos bevause he can

I beileve he lives in socity, finding hus victims in girls and men alike who fall for his charm

he uses hhis skill and ordinary appearance to blend in on the streets

From his behavior helen most likely keeps his hair a bit shorter and clean

He always looks his best

Has chapped, and picked at lips because of his anxieties

Aswell as his breakdowns- his identity is completely in his head, he is very unsure of who he is and takes the delusions in his mind as reality

Unrelated but paino fingers-

And finally in order for his art to be as perfect and amazing as him, he has to be apart of it

Thus using his own blood in his pieces and the body parts of those he admires

Covers his scars with clean bandgaes

But his paintings turn brown and dry out, he’s always in need of a new medium

Is most likely anemic from all the blood he looses and has a paler skintone

Clockwork

ahh yes finally someone who knows what self care is-

helen, i love you buddy but you need to stop 

But anyway natalie has a stronger, athletic build

She often chases her victims and gets in altercations, relying on strength most  of the time

on that same note, this would defintelty cause many scars on natalie

Wether it was a bite mark or scars from a kitchen knife, shes got lots of scars

A few even on her face

Now, for the clock in her eye that thing is like holding her skull together at this point, realistically

She is probably delicate and cares for it becaise 1) it hurts 2) if it gets screwed up that could cause a lot of problems

natalie would be a smart person, I wouldn’t be surprused if she had a few other stray stitches or bandgaes wrapped around a fresh wound

For more visual-ish things uh m u l l e t (credit: @cum-looking-sock-mf in a chat like 4 months ago)

She has one, fight me on it

but also thick and curlish hair so I also riase you

Undershave

just y e s

I can also see her getting tattoos over certain scars on her arm, just to make them look not so ugly

I feel like clockwork wishes things worked out better

Wishes for another chance but knows she’ll never get one

Thus her taking goof care of herself

Natalie throws herseld into her “work”, keeping her body in shape and killing people

Its a way to avoid her life and that it is- a huge, sad mess

Shes an outgoing impulsive individual, confident but questions her actions

She’s also unstable- protective and loyal but explosive and strong 

Jane the Killer

Jane is the final one, im sorry I couldn’t do more theres a photo limit and I wanna bash my head into the wall

Now a main different between her and jeff is she had surgery and lie treatment

Janes skin is still greatly scarred but it is greatly healed

She takes care of it and had skin grafts

Her face is disfigured, a scarred smile and burns around

But unlike Jeff she doesn’t recarve the cut so its a cleaner line and a lot healthier

Janes hair took a rather long time to grow back, but it did! 

She has a slightly long pixie cut a bit choppy but she doesn’t mind

Her wife definetely cuts it for her and you can fight me over that

I can see Jane having a lot of facial trauma, scars around her nose and cheeks

She was young when she started killing and went for the over the person, pin them down kill which didn’t work out

She switched to a silenced pistol after awhile, you know like a smart person

Janes arms and legs are in alright condition where most of the burn trauma is on her back

She has a leaner but healthy figure but like boobs-

Like clockwork and Helen she takes care of herself

She doesn’t kill as frequently, going after a few of jeffs victims before him and is of course, actively hunting him down

Her eyes are a pale green and she wears makeip to fill in her eyebrows because those bitches take a long time to grow back

fun fact: jeff has no eyebrows, fight me

[lovee-infected]

Hi! Can i request some headcanons for Yandere Rook, Epel, and the twins where their darling tries to genuinely understand their unhealthy tendencies and tries to co-operate with them to calm them down, would it work? Will that keep their obsessiveness in check? Thanks!

These four really do have different types of obsession , each unique yet - adorable !

♦♥♠♣

Feelings can be quite destructive , but not to him . Rook isn't into self harming emotions and will greatly enjoy a game of cat and mouse . Of course he'd be a lot more fascinated if its with you

He appreciates your beauty , elegance and mostly , your innocence . He loves to see fear and embarrassment into your eyes , just as a hunter

Rook has no worry of you realizing that he's stalking on you . He will pop out of nowhere into your way making you jump , then laughs with a : " My bad , did I scare you my lady ? "

He is totally aware of how unsafe you feel as he calls you his and surely enjoys it , after all that what he's after

You'd tried almost anything to avoid running to him or letting him run to you : Skipping classes , staying out for fewer hours , locking doors and windows before going to sleep...

Rook wouldn't mind you fighting back , it was good to see that he's been realized and feared by his prey . Bunny or deer , he was gonna let you try and fight back , not that he wasn't interested to see it though

Locking windows wasn't a stop for him from watching over you at nights . In fact he believed that you should've been thankful as well ; not a single soul or animal would make it to your room alive under his sight

Spending more and more days being watched , you seriously grew furious ; which made you run whenever you saw him around , causing him to walk faster following you

You soon had enough of it , insomnia and paranoid had you weak , not able to take it anymore

You went too Rook by your own feet , telling him about how uncomfortable you've been feeling lately and your health issues

His eyes suddenly widened putting a hand on your forehead to see if you're fine ; which you surely weren't

He immediately returned you to Ramshackle dorm , putting you on bed and sitting aside you : " My dear , you should've told me if you were feeling uncomfortable . You know how much pain would be brought to my heart even by thinking of you getting hurt..."

He then gave you a kiss and whispered a : " Forgive me darling , now take some rest ," to your ear before leaving

Just by the smirk he was holding all the time you could've said that he hadn't changed at all ; and of course he hadn't

He already knew how he's been making you feel and the only thing changed by your argument , was for him to hide more carefully

He doesn't want you hurt , but he couldn't help how exciting it was to see you helpless either

When you finally re-gained your health just enough to return to classes , he got way worse ways to watch over you . He picked up the same classes as you , participated in same clubs and even took the same path as you yet this time , there is no hiding

He openly talks to you about whatever you might talk : your day , your plans for tomorrow , etc . Pretty good at acting as if he isn't doing all these on purpose

You think that it couldn't get any worse but finding a letter on your bed with an arrow-shaped stamp on , you realize you were greatly mistaken :

He now openly asks you out and invites you for dinner , making it Impossible for you to avoid him

The romantic pace he brings to your night with candles and roses is surely something , but it doesn't change the fact that he's having you in control

He does really enjoy playing with you and your mind Watching you try to hold him back is absolutely cute in the eyes of this hunter

It simply begun with him staring too much at you during classes , hoping that you wouldn't notice him and when you did , he'd just anwser with a nervous smile , trying to seem neutral

Epel tries his best bring himself closer to you but not in a harmful way . He keeps following you around making sure that he'll be as close as possible

He doesn't intend to harm you or make you feel uncomfortable ; he just feels better when you're close

He doesn't care if you aren't going to talk to him or at least notice him , just watching your beautiful giggles and hearing your angelic voice will do for him

You soon realized that you were seeing him around a lot more that usual , during lunchtime , while talking to friends and even around ramshackle dorm , which made you a bit worried

Epel had noticed your slowly growing anxiety around him , and it frustrated him , making him scared of losing you

Even the thought of you hating him would bring tears to his eyes , making him silently cry hiding face into his pillow for many nights

He is much of a self harm yandere , he is way too shy to walk straight to you and start a conversation , so he'll just keep it all to himself , although this will end up bringing him more pain

You were trying to deal with him around , but you couldn't help it the night you found Epel trying to kiss you as you were asleep , which ended up with him running off in tears leaving you in fear and an awfull sense of being unsafe

Epel didn't show up for a few days afterwards , which made you feel sorry about it . You didn't get why he'd choose to stalk if he was really feeling for you , but considering how shy and quite he usually was you couldn't blame him either

Next to you meet he looks just...awfull . You are still a bit shocked about what happened , but realizing the bags under Epel's eyes and how much skinnier he'd got , you hug him tightly

Spending time with him , you realize how he just needs your attention ; to have you close

You didn't directly try to talk him out of his obssessive ways because that would've surely made him feel more guilty and depressed

You decide to use a different method as a way to stop his unhealthy routines or at least , reduce them for a mentionable amount : By giving him the time and attention he wanted

He'll still get a bit upset by the moments you have to leave , but you confort him that you'll soon be back

He'll slightly grows a lot better , returning to his healthy pace

There are times which he gets overly anxious or stressful , fearing of you leaving him behind , but you just know how to keep up with him :

Holding him in your embrace and kisses on the forehead will make him feel unimaginably calm and safe. He sometimes ends up falling asleep into your embrace but you don't mind

He's quite nervous and gentle when it comes to love , which may cause him to go too far sometimes . But as long as you are there for him , he's gonna be fine

Jade is a pretty calm , yet obssessive yandere. He just isn't one into stalking or following you around , yet he has his own standards

He doesn't have to follow you around since you already come for a coffee at mostrolounge's every afternoon , which is enough to be called his perfect time with you

First days just passed with him watching you with a smile , curious and bright about the way you enjoyed taking slow and patient sips of your coffee , putting on a calm face that made him lick his lips excitedly

When he finally took the urge too talk , it was no more than small talk or asking you if you want anything

His small talks slowly turned into friendly chats , he sat next to you more like a friend than a waiter waiting for you to order ; he was really growing close to you

With several weeks passing he is now way closer to you than a normal friend . He also meets you during classes and lunch time but nothing will ever replace your afternoon meetings at mostrolounge

You knew that he liked you and you didn't really have a problem with this , he is all nice and polite so why not , you thought

But just as he brings himself closer to you , his darker sides begin to be revealed as well ;

Having your exams started , you couldn't show up at mostrolounge everyday and Jade didn't like it at all , though he was well aware of you being busy

He doesn't show any anger meanwhile the two of you meet at school , although you already knew that Jads was hiding his disappointment under that calm smile

When you finally get to return to mostrolounge after a while , he doesn't act any differently than before . You try to apologize but he comforted you that he understands how busy you are

Things got a lot different from the day after . He now asks you about people you meet everyday and friends you talk to . You don't find any of these information necessary but didn't mind giving them away either

His questions soon got irritating and whenever you tried to switch the subject or lie ,he used shock the heart on you : "Darling , be honest with me ,"

His friendly talks are now serious interrogations , as if he he knows that you're hiding something from him . You never mind answering him even though he sometimes went too far , but seeing him caught into his paranoids of you cheating him made you worried

You already like Jade and don't want to see him as he is , so you take a step forward , asking him if he likes to go on real dates , not occasional cafe meetings

He blushes at your request , unsure what to say but he immediately accepts it ; not wanting to lose the chance

Even as the two of you date , he continues to be protective over you since the thought of you cheating him drives him mad

He'll keep asking you if you want someone else using shock the heart , which you always say no but that doesn't ever seem enough to satisfy him , even though he knows that you're telling the truth

Jade just wants you on his side and doesn't want to lose you ; after all prevention is better than cure

Floyd's obsession isn't something he'd like to hide . He just isn't the type who would rather hiding in the shadows and sneakinh behind the doors , he finds that pretty useless and of course , boring

He doesn't mind you noticing him around or telling that he's following you , he'd even doubt that you'd ask since he does it pretty obviously

You tried to be positive about it , asking him what he's doing or if he wants something several times , but the anwser made seeing him around a hundred times creepier : " Nah- Isn't it obvious ? I'm just following you ,"

Stalking isn't an extremely exciting kink of him , he's more into close-interactions : Showing up out of nowhere and holding your hand , being squeezed unexpectedly during classes or even being grabbed by arm and warned about how close you've been to your friends lately were just simple

He doesn't like you spending too much time with any other than him and wouldn't mind stating it to you loud and clear. He even says how bad he wants to roast those fishies , which he meant your friends , into flaming hot fire ; which he you laughed at just to be hushed by his deadly gaze , clarifying that he obviously wasn't joking

You didn't really try to hold him back at first , thinking that he was just much of a tsundere around you , being protective as a friend ; but when his small jokes grow closer to reality , you knew that you had to take it serious

He would grab anyone who gets too close to you by grabbing back of their collar and pull them back like it's no big deal ; no need to say that the ones who already know him are too terrified to argue and those who don't as well will be cut off by just looking at his gigantic figure

Soon enough , everyone around you are aware of you belonging to unpredictable Leech twin , which will probably cause them to keep their distance with you ; enough to make you feel isolated

Floyd as well is starts avoiding people , even acting cooler with Jade in fear of you preferring his 'pitch perfect twin' over him

You were already feeling unsafe due to his unhealthy behaviors toward you , but watching him doing the same to himself made you feel guilty ; after all this was all for you , because of him being obssessed with you .

You were no match for him if you were to talk you out of it , so you decided that you needed some...help

Asking Jade and Azul for help would normally cost a price , but since they as well were worried about Floyd , you could call it a deal

You all agreed that he needed to take some time off to return to a more stable position , which Floyd obviously disagreed

Finally he agreed on taking a short vacation but just on condition ; you had to go with him

Jade and Azul were sure that you wouldn't last any more than a few days alone with him , which made them decide to come with you as well

Floyd isn't quite satisfied about having to take an unwanted vacation , but since it's with you , he can kinda deal with it

He is never gonna totally let go of his obssessive ways , but having his closest friends along with you will make him a bit calmer ; at least enough for him to be his real self

[d2myg]

yoongi b-day post; this will be incredibly sappy, so read at your own discretion: 

the person in the pictures is min yoongi. i took them in the london o2 arena in october 2018, when i went to a bts concert during their love yourself tour. it was unironically the best day of my life, and not just because i got to see the people i love most do what they love most. i got meet up with my friends, spend the day with them, share food, do sight-seeing, do windowshopping together - little acts of love that i now look back at with fondness. at the venue, we talked to many other people, hugged, laughed and cried, sang and screamed together. before that day, i hadn't realised just how one person - or one unit - can bring a sea of people together, people who are strangers to each other, people who are so different from each other, speak different languages, come from different backgrounds. but on that day, we all gathered together because we shared love for a group of 7 boys who make beautiful music and make us all feel a little bit less alone. on that day, even though we didn't understand the lyrics or some of their comments, we felt welcomed, safe and loved there. we could feel how much they love all of us, and how much effort they put into showing it. at the end of the concert, as the ending credits rolled down, they left a little message - a 'special thank you' to all of us, even though we have loads more to thank them for. i've heard a lot of people say that bts saved their lives. that they were in a dark place, but the hopeful messages in the songs, and the incredible friendship that bts all have with each made them feel less lonely. and i feel this way, too. they make people connect, and i've never seen anything like this with any other music artist; the bond that exists between bts and the fans is thrumming with so much affection for both sides. no matter how high they climb, bts stay humble, and make sure to always thank us for their achievements. what sets them apart from other artists for me is genuity and passion for their work, and personalisation of their music, their continuous efforts to be gentle role models for the youth.

i felt drawn to min yoongi ever since i first watched one of their music videos, back in 2015/16. i've never encountered anyone like him, and learning more things about him over the years of being a fan has been a great pleasure. i've realised that our personalities and habits are a lot alike, and it's painful when people don't see past his stage persona and think he's cold, lazy, and uncaring. he has the kindest soul, and he loves in quiet and subtle ways. he cares so much, and he always puts other people before him. his passion and love for music is unmatched, and it's really inspiring to see that he chose to pursue his dream despite his parents' disapproval or growing up poor. his creative process is very unique, and he has so much knowledge about the thing he's good at, yet he always strives to improve and is self-critical. the music he creates from scratch is stunning. that's actually not the right word - i don't know how to even begin to describe it. min yoongi is good at telling stories through his music;  stories that make you sit and listen, that make you want to listen to them again, want to know how they continue. the method of delivery of these stories is through rapping. i used to not like rap at all. but by listening to min yoongi's rapping, i understood the purpose of it, and learnt what good rap is - to tell stories. min yoongi's lyrics are poems with incredibly clever wordplay, use of metaphors and anecdotes, rhetorical questions, and they ellicit emotions by simply reading them. i never knew music could be like this. even though there is a language barrier and all i have access to are lyric translations, listening to min yoongi's music doesn't require knowledge of korean at all. you understand the message through the changes in flow and speed of the words, through sharp breaths, through the rawness or quietness of his voice. you understand especially when min yoongi is telling you his stories. his stories and their delivery are heart-wrenching, shocking, eye-opening. they speak, sincerely and openly, unafraid of judgement, about his tough childhood, difficulties during debut and the first few years of being part of the group, about his mental health, his feelings, thoughts. they speak about his immense love for music, but also about his worries and anxieties as a global celebrity. they made me realise that for his dream, min yoongi has had to sacrifice a lot. he had to sacrifice living an ordinary life, which is sometimes all he wishes.

loving min yoongi can be bittersweet sometimes, when i listen to his stories, again and again and again, until i've memorised the pronunciation of every foreign word. they often make me sad and hollow, make me cry, because i think that such a lovely and selfless person doesn't deserve the things that he's had to cope with. but loving min yoongi is also good - he makes me feel so inspired, to get off my ass and work on what i'm good at and what i enjoy. it makes me want to be academically successful, even though he's very critical of the education system. his lyrics are enlightening, and i admire his ways of critiquing society and institutions even though he's part of a very strict industry. the way he thinks and shapes his thoughts into words in interviews is incredible and inspirational. his music makes me feel less alone, just as it does to millions of people around the world. i think i couldn't have picked a better role model, a better idol, a better mentor, and it was far from a conscious decision. he's just very endearing and easy to feel drawn to.

i hope he knows just how much everyone is proud of him and all that he's achieved. i love how he remains down to earth and humble, shy about his work, despite having been nominated for a grammy recently, and despite all the other highly prestigious awards of record-breaking album sales he greatly contributed to. i hope his smile never dims, because it's genuinely healing and valuable. i hope he never gets tired of making music, whether that be for the public or privately, for bts or for himself. i hope he stays healthy and recovers well from his shoulder surgery. i hope he takes good care of himself, physically and mentally. i hope he knows that out of all of his stage personas and alter-egos, 28-year old min yoongi (30-year old min yoongi in korean age, which remains confusing to me) is the one that is most important.  i hope we get to meet again, even though i will just be a dot in the crowd, and he will be showing us all the music he wasn't able to show us in person last year. happy birthday, yoongi. you don't know me, but i look up to you and i love you, a lot.

[yuraimi-lee-bunny]

Let's get to the point first and then I'll give the important details:

Because of rude and intolerant comments of directly and indirectly way from LiS fandom here in Tumblr (only intolerant and abusive fans of Pricefield and Chloe) I fell into depression for a year and a half

I met the game on February 6, 2015. I immediately loved the game. I could only watch Gameplays. At the same time I was about to finish my Visual Arts career. I was specializing in Illustration and creation, development and character analysis (theory and practice)

At the beginning (between Ep.1 and Ep.3) Pricefield was causing me some pleasure but I also liked Warren, although I defended Warren from the unjustified hate that dome gave him, but I never saw the Grahamfield as an option. But days before Ep.4 some personal things happened to me, and I began to see the Grahamfield with an option, I started to like it more. Ep.4 arrives and besides being my favorite episode, I was happy and surprised that the Grahamfield was a possible option.

Finish the game and although I don't like at all the choice "Sacrifice Arcadia Bay" I had no problem, in the end: everyone their choices. I started showing my Grahamfield works. Sometimes comments came directly and indirectly offending my work. No problem, I could deal with it. But in 2016 began the problem: The attacks on Grahamfield, Warren and those who liked it increased even worse: they attacked those who chose to Sacrifice Chloe. The offenses were of a lot of variety but here are some of the ones I remember:

"You have no heart" "You're a monster", "You're a horrible person" "Surely you're homophobic" "You're a lesphobic" "You didn't understand the game" "You didn't understand Max" "That disgusts your tastes" "If you like such a ship, then fuck you"

In early 2016 I was dealing with many personal, family, professional problems, go to see things about LiS and other things that I liked helped me to reassure me. But that intolerant posts in LiS tags were so massive and consecutive that ended up making me believe them and thus, fall into depression.

I was weak? Maybe. But I hope you understand that everywhere I was going through difficult times, that when I went to see things about LiS it was my way of being able to entertain myself and I hope you also understand, that these people were not entitled to attack people. In 2015 I could deal with it but that 2016 I couldn't because of my own affairs and because the attacks, seriously, were massive. I was no longer happy with my decisions, nor tastes, with anything. I tried everything: to listen to my favorite music, to watch series that motivated me and remembered me my goals and my own being. Met my friendships, my boyfriend. Nothing worked. Everything was getting worse: although I no longer paid attention and stopped going to tags for a while, the damage was already done to me, the doubts grew more and more in me:

"Why do I like grahamfield?" "Why couldn't you like the Pricefield?" "Why do you like Warren?" "Why can't Chloe be your favorite?"

And worse:

"Why do you always like the weirdest thing?" "Why can't you be like the others?" "Why don't you normal?" "Why do I think as I think?" "Why am I this way?" What was I born for? "Why do I exist?" "Why?" "Why?" "Why?"

My self-esteem went down a lot, I no longer wanted to draw and I didn't want to get out of bed. Everything looked gray and had attacks of crying. Although my problems had turned out. The depression was already in me. I had to go to the psychologist. I was diagnosed with Social Depression. It wasn't serious, but it had to be treated. I kept going to sessions. My psychologist is a love, I could tell her absolutely everything even if it sounded very absurd but she understood and helped me. My mom, my boyfriend, some friends help me too. Some things I discovered also help: Lukas Graham, Keane, Oxenfree, and more.

Throughout 2016 sometimes I suffered attacks of anxiety, doubts, of crying. It was difficult to deal for me, my mom and my boyfriend. But we don't give up. I didn't give up. I almost broke up with my boyfriend for believing it was a nuisance and weak, but I never did. Unfortunately sometimes looking Pricefield made me nervous and feeling of guilt for not liking Pricefield invaded me very hard. I swear that I tried by many means to like it and become my ship. I never could and currently I can't. I only see them as best friends.

So I drew Grahamfield. In fact, in this long road of recovery, Max and Warren accompanied me a lot, they were the characthers and a ship that helped me a lot in accepting myself as I am and with my tastes and choices. Little by little I was recovering. 2016 wasn't a very pleasant year for me, but still there some good memories of that year. 2017 was a better year. At the beginning of that year I could feel improvements, but sometimes the doubts continued and sometimes I woke up with stomachaches. Monstar Calls, Persona 5, Jughead's Comic, new friendships, and improved more. LiS's fandom was quieter and I drew more Grahanfield. But April was where I found that serie that made me try harder to get up.

Orange is the New Black and Bojack Horseman were those series that I watched in 2016 and helped me a lot to accept my depression, to accept myself, to defend myself and to love myself as I am. But that April 12 2017 I started watching 13 Reasons Why and everything was clearer to me. I know, 13RW is a very controversial series, but it helped me realize many, many things: how lucky I'm to have people around me who love and love me. That I want and I must be strong to protect those I want, to defend myself and demonstrate what I'm capable of achieving. Not giving up. It's worth moving forward. I want to live.

And so, with more strength and enthusiasm I began to overcome my low self-esteem, I began to draw more, to work for a while as a waitress and resume my studies to get my degree. There was only one problem: now I saw Pricefield and I got angry. It reminded me of all the pain I went through in 2016 for those rude people who liked Pricefield and kept attacking you just for liking another ship. But my anger is left just in that: Angry. I swear never, but NEVER come to attack or offend someone because they like Pricefield. I never did and never will.

2017 was a good year, although BTS isn't a game that I like very much, I enjoyed it somehow. My psychologist tells me that I'm much better. For me it meant that I had already overcome my depression. The earthquake of September 19 in 2017 was an event that greatly impacted me. I helped as much as I could, and there I realized that in 2018 I wanted to improve myself more as person. And I did it.

2018 was my best year: I participated in a film with rotoscopie technique called "Olimpia" and it's one of my greatest achievements and I'm proud to have participated in making animation. I did many activities that helped me grow as a person. I kept drawing Grahanfield and now I defended Warren and Grahamfield as I had never done, but this time with evidence. My love for the characters had come back and I had studied the subject more. American Vandal, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Shape of Water also arrived in 2018 and they helped me a lot.

2019 arrives: Carmen Sandiego and The Umbrella Academy get to inspire me professionally. I started a diploma in February of Graphic Novel to get my Bachelor's degree. I did it. I finished in August and this November they gave it to me. I'm already licensed. I've been calmly reading the LiS comic. Seeing things about Pricefield no longer fill me with anxiety. I absolutely feel good and happy with my tastes within the fandom of LiS.

In these days I have thought about my whole process. OITNB ended this year, next year ends Bojack Horseman and 13 Reasons Why. Those 3 series with their recent seasons have made me see that I must close a cycle. And that's why I count all this.

I tell my story as proof of how much the toxic side of the LiS fandom damaged me. That although everything remains calm sometimes, there are still people like that I managed to get ahead, and I hope that someone inside the fandom hasn't suffered something similar or worse. And still, to those people who damaged me only one thing I can say:

Thank you.

Thank you for your fatal acts, because even they have damaged me and brought me into depression, it caused me to get the best out of myself and show myself that I can be stronger.

I love Grahamfield, Max and Warren separately. These characters and ship aren't only that, they're my recovery symbol and reminder of loving me as I am. They mean to me a lot. They grew and healed with me. I appreciate these two separately and together. I never hated Chloe. She isn't my favorite but I appreciate her a lot, I recognize her flaws, and I still appreciate her. Chloe and me have things in common. But in truth: you don't know how much I identify with Max and Warren, that's how it was since I met the game.

I'm glad to notice my years of progress. But I also want to apologize if at some point I became rude for defending Warren and/or Grahamfield. Now I hope you understand where my courage and my insistence to defend it came from.

I also want to make it clear that I don't blame Pricefield or anyone who likes this ship or Chloe. But I want to prove that attacking someone just because doesn't like your ship isn't fine. You don't know what is happening to that person. Judging someone just for a taste is neither good nor kind. You don't know how much a characther/ship can mean for that person. Notice to what degree can damage their fanaticism that reaches the degree of intolerance. I also want to clarify that it isn't bad that someone doesn't like Warren and Grahamfield. What is wrong is that some don't understand that everyone likes. That understand that not everyone will like the same thing and they will not see it in the same way.

Everyone is a world. Everyone has their own worldview. Not because someone is different from you and doesn't like the same as you, it gives you the right to judge it as trahs and treat it as trahs.

Treat people as you would like to be treated.

I'm glad that in these 4 years that I like LiS I have found people who are still kind to me and others, and who respect each other's tastes and decisions. Both on Twitter, IG and here I have found friendly and fun people and I really appreciate them. They were a great help of my recovery. Really, thank you very much guys. Believe me that sharing the same taste for LiS but each one having different taste, still treating each other well and in a friendly way, helped me a lot and I'm very grateful. I will continue to like everything about LiS and LiS2. I will continue to draw about it and I will love to find friendships that also like LiS. Count on me when you need anything. LiS is still something important in my life, it helped me a lot to grow in several aspects. But I also won't let anyone keep offending/attacking someone else in the fandom if that person isn't hurting anyone. Respect and Tolerance among all please.

If you have read all this, you don't know how much I appreciate it. I hope this helps someone to reflect on our way of living, communicating, understanding and tolerating each other. I'm already very well, more than good.

I love myself.

Please love yourself.

You can do it!

[long-cosmos-overhead]

I would like to request a Dwalin x Ori x Reader. The reader has had a dream of meeting her soulmate. All she sees is a hand grabbing for her own, stopping her from falling into the darkness. Sometimes her left hand and sometimes her right hand. Never both, it never occurred to her that it was two different people.

You were slipping. The abyss of darkness below waiting to swallow you whole and toss you aside like you were one single pebble in a huge colony residing at the bottom of a river. Your fingers clawed and the Earth beneath you dirt piling up underneath your fingernails. You were falling now. Limbs flailing in the air trying desperately to grasp a hold of anything to stop your fall. Dirt fell beside you almost in slow motion, falling deeper into darknesses eternal slumber until they were no longer Just witnessing a twisted example of your fait made your stomach twist in fear you couldn’t wish to any other.

You were so close to the darkness you could almost feel it’s cold hand wrapping its fingers around you. It was toying with you leaving its grip loose enough for your nerves to eat you alive. Air flew past you caressing your falling body rippling through your clothes and dancing up your skin. Tears spilled from your eyes leaving tracks so cold and rich in raw emotion. Your heart pounded against your chest for what would’ve been the last time before your inevitable death. You were practically touching the dark, your feet moments from being snatched by its gruelling hand dragging the rest of you with it. You closed your eyes unwilling to bear witness of the fall that would break you.

Fingers grasped around your right hand stopping you from falling. The grip so tight and unwilling to let go it turned your fingertips red. The darkness beneath you subsided growing smaller and smaller until it had completely vanished in defeat. It’s cold grip that hovered around you ceased to be present. You wanted to scream out in relief. The fall constricted your bodies every ability so greatly talking was an impossibility.

The fingers suffocating your hand were rough and weathered yet held an amount of comfort it made you feel a way you had never felt before. Somewhat safe and assured but also something deeper something that made your heart pound, not of fear but a mix of warmth and affection. A spark ran through your body encasing you in bliss despite almost falling into the pit of darkness. You shifted your head to peer up a little still shaken you decided not to make big movements.

The hand was clearly that of a man. Short finger nails rimmed with dirt and grime, somewhat muscly; the hands of heavy labour, veins rising against the lightly tanned skin and littered in tattoos of various shapes and markings ones you could not make out yet made sense. Normally body markings didn’t affect your perception on appearance but the ones engraved on the hand that held you were strangely captivating you felt your eyes resting on them unable to shift your gaze. You found them right as if if they weren’t there it wouldn’t look right.

The day following was confusing. Waking up was even more so. You had been so immersed in your thoughts even Thorin threw you a few glances. You barely uttered a word.

“Lass you seem distracted.” Dwalin sat beside you shifting the log you too resided on. The sun’s last rays dipping below the horizon leaving the trees shadows creeping further up the ground. A moment ago one lay atop your foot but had since seemed to crawl back a little. You thought nothing of it, your thoughts quickly wrapping you in a steel grip.

“Just been thinking about some things.”

Dwalin hummed in understanding. He always seemed to be the one to understand you providing quiet support. When you first joined the company you were rather lonely often hanging back with the brothers Fili and Kili. To say you were intimidated by the axe wielding dwarf was an understatement the first time you saw him you could’ve sworn he disapproved of your existence. However, in a short amount of time you became one of the few people he trusted and he became one of your closest friends.

“If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask lass, I’ll fetch you some food you could do with some.” He patted your shoulder and you felt a familiar spark course through your body. You jolted in shock causing Dwalin to quickly remove his hand.

“You sure you’re alright lass?” You looked up to meeting his eyes. The confusion and worry that glassed over his blue ones made you feel a sense of uneasiness. Seeing such emotions were rare coming from him. You swallowed thickly nodding your head unable to form words. His eyes narrowed as if he had caught you out on a lie but whatever he was thinking he dropped for your sake.

“Come let’s get you to bed, I’ll sleep nearby if you need anything.” He offered you his hand to help you rise from the log. Admittedly it wasn’t terribly comfy the bark had scratched into the back of your legs leaving the skin undoubtedly irritated and red. You raised your hand to grasp his but stopped midway. The dying embers of the suns rays fell gracefully upon his hand illuminating his short nails layered in dirt, the way his veins rose slightly above his skin, the toned edges of his muscles reaching up his arm and out of sight underneath his sleeves and finally his tattoos each section of inked skin matching up exacting to the ones you had dreamt about.

Everything was happening so suddenly the links your brain drew fuelled the panic rising in your chest. The shadows growing on you causing your heart to beat wildly against your chest. The deja vu was overwhelmingly identical. Your breathing became shallow and almost rapid. Looking again into the blue eyes of the dwarf you only managed one word.

“Dwalin.”

You were easily hoisted up into his arms. To Dwalin you felt awfully light. He’d never seen you so lost and consumed in your own thoughts that you lost touch with the world around you. He had witnessed people seriously overwhelmed before he took pity on them and continued about his activities however upon seeing you, a brave and powerful women become reduced to your most vulnerable in his arms shook him to his core.

You felt the wind whisper in your ear as Dwalin ran to the area Thorin had set up for the night. Dead leaves and twigs crunched under his heavy boots alerting everyone of your presence. The company drew silent. Thorin had sat upright against the rock he laid on seemingly more awake, Fili and Kili stopped sharpening their weapons offering you a worried, sympathetic look, Bilbo had looked up from tending to the horses his brow creasing in confusion. Bombur had jumped up in fright. Your face was buried in Dwalin’s chest still panicked, the reaction from the company didn’t even hold place in your mind.

“Y/n what happened?” A gentle voice rang from beside you. Ori had been your best friend and fiercest protector alongside Dwalin. He always managed to soothe your every thought that bled you dry with anxiety or anger. Despite being the youngest of the group he still remained grounded and ever so polite no matter the situation. Just his voice simply asking you a question felt as blissful as a warm summers day. The company reeled their heads in a little awaiting the answer to your current state unwilling to pry open your personal thoughts they held their tongue.

“The lass is worn out, Ori, take her to bed and set up our rolls near should she wake and need anything I’ll fetch some food she could do with a little to eat.”

Ori took you from Dwalin’s warm embrace entering you into his. Reality slowly began enticing you back into its clutches. Cold gusts of wind clashed with your shaking figure, subconsciously you curled up into a ball. You were tired. So tired, it were as if you had been conscious for weeks on end. Your stomach ached for food but your body yearned for sleep so desperately. Your eyelids gradually got heavier and heavier until the forest around you transfered from beautiful scenery to a blur of greens and greys. Your body succumbed to the allure of slumber in Ori’s warm arms.

It was the same dream that haunted you. You were falling, quicker than last time. It was as if you grew tired of watching the same scene, the same emotions that you decided to race forward in time. The dirt around you only paused to entertain your vision for a few seconds. You anticipated the cold, malicious hand slowly suffocating you taking your every will, ambition and achievement in its wake and in quick time it came. It was almost more agonising the second time. You fell deeper and deeper into the dark. The shadow crawling up your skin until it had reached your midsection. You drew one final breath.

You should’ve known a hand would catch you right before the hand of darkness grasped you fully. Your left hand ached in pain upon supporting your whole body weight. Your feet swayed upon your sudden departure from falling. The dark pit of fear below shrunk in defeat until it ceased to exist once again. You had to know the person that saved you a second time.

The hand clinging to yours was frail yet firm. Rather small yet masculine. His fingernails were well kept, clean and short. His fingers so thin it made his knuckles protrude outwards allowing them to easily account for the magority of his hands distinguishable features. The hand holding you up was soothingly soft and you couldn’t help but feel familiar with the touch. Despite hanging meters from your death you were pulled into such a rich sense of security courtesy of the contact you were blessed with. You dared to look up just a little more. A blinding white light stole the face of your saviour whisking you back into consciousness.

Your body automatically jolted upwards and you gasped for air as if you had been starved of it all your life. Light beads of sweat populated your forehead while cold chills shuddered down your body. A rough hand clasped upon your shoulder pulling you into their lap.

“Lass what’s been going on with you?” Dwalin spoke his voice softer and quieter than usual.

You couldn’t hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes any longer. You clung to Dwalin seeking any sort of comfort you could. His other hand found its way to your back rubbing circles in your skin and easing the painful tension that knotted your shoulders together. Faintly you heard him shushing you, trying to calm your shaking, tired body.

“Y/n?”

Ori questioned beside you. He rubbed his eyes clearly having woken up from the commotion. His hand placed over yours. The feeling was too familiar resurfacing every detail of the horror your mind had conjured just moments ago. You stared blankly at him for a moment almost scared to look down having already anticipated what you would see.

His hand matched each fraction of the one that caught you. Not one tiny marking was out of place.

“Ori I..I..”

It took a while to calm you down; the sun had since risen over the horizon it previously fell below. Finally you fell back asleep again. Ori and Dwalin had decided to leave you to rest a while longer after the company had awoken. Mid morning slowly passed by the suns golden rays hitting your body as you lay asleep now in Ori’s lap. Never once did his grip falter on you. Dwalin made sure of that too, informing Thorin of your hectic nightmare.

For once there was no cold hand constricting you. You only felt warmth and safety laying in the arms of your two dearest dwarves. Some day you’d figure out everything but for now you were happy.

@swoopswishsward I am so so sorry for being so late for this one. Please forgive me I hope I did a good enough job

[muthaz-rapapa]

StarPre Ep 41: Coming of Age

...Is probably the best way I can think of to describe this episode.

Granted, Madoka’s still growing and learning but like the famous Armstrong saying they kept bringing up throughout, this small step she took of her own will, and not her father’s, is also a hugely significant one for her as her own person.

Madoka’s long realized that because she relied so much on her father to tell her what to do and how to live, she’s never developed or even had any initiative of her own.

We all knew that from the beginning. We all saw that from the very start.

But imagine how it must’ve felt for Madoka. How as she hung out with Hikaru and co. more and started having fun and looking at things differently, how saddened she was to learn about the things she lacked.

She’s not going to say it’s her father’s fault because he does get credit for allowing her to gain all sorts of experiences that were and will be very beneficial to her.

However, that’s just the problem. She’s not supposed to feel so indebted to her father that she should place less value on her feelings and just let him order her around and decide for her as he pleases.

“I’m able to be who I am now because of my father [and the help of others]. I cannot betray their expectations for what I want.”

That’s the dilemma presented here.

Madoka’s father is intent on treating her like a doll and Madoka is trying to find a way to break free of that restriction he’s collared her with.

And you’d think the solution would be for her to just stand up to him and say “No, I’m the one who’s gonna decide for myself from now on, not you!” because it is.

But it’s not that easy.

Again, Madoka’s dad is an intimidating figure. She grew up simultaneously respecting and fearing this man. She’s only ever known how to do just that since she was born which is precisely why she didn’t know how to do anything else until she befriended the other girls.

If she didn’t have the ability to start thinking for herself, she would never have worked up the courage to “rebel” against him.

Thankfully, she did and it’s not just because she made friends with Hikaru and co.

It’s also because she got to know people who weren’t her father.

People who didn’t constantly remind her every moment to be a Kaguya. People who actually asked what Madoka wanted, how Madoka felt, etc.

Madoka’s dad was always on the commanding end. He never asked her about her thoughts or opinions. He just expected Madoka to always listen and obey without question.

That’s way too limiting. Madoka can’t properly grow that way.

It’s only when you let a person go into the world, see things with their own eyes and broaden their own understanding that it can possibly progress.

It’s only when they learn to use their own voice that a person can be a person.

And there’s such great symbolism to accompany Madoka finally seizing her own freedom by declaring her future as her own.

The image of her father behind her is Madoka acknowledging his support and showing gratitude for raising her. It’s because he cared greatly for his daughter and set her walking on a path that she won’t be ashamed of that shaped Madoka into the respectable young woman she is. She’s thankful to him for that and always will be.

However, this is still her life to live. He cannot decide her destinations or which ways she should take there. Those are her choices, have always been her choices.

With that, the image of him bursts and disintegrates. Madoka has broken free of the domineering reign her father had over her. She’s no longer afraid of him. She’s found her voice and she will be heard.

But her father’s influence doesn’t disappear. Instead, all the light that represents that certain aspect of Madoka’s life gathers into Selene’s arrow, giving her more than enough power to K.O. Galogre.

Madoka is Madoka because there are so many sides to her that make her so. Madoka, the student council president who looks out for everyone and takes her responsibilities seriously. Madoka who is a simple girl and loves hanging out with her friends. And of course, Madoka who is Kaguya Madoka, the proud scion of a prestigious lineage made possible through her father’s discipline and nurturing.

All those things are Madoka.

And she tells her father this.

She tells him that because she didn’t understand, she relied on him to guide her. She did need him and will continue to need him to be there because after all, he is her father.

As a father, he’s supposed to teach her.

As a daughter, she’s supposed to learn from him.

But the thing is, Madoka isn’t just a little girl who knows nothing anymore. Her everything doesn’t resolve solely around her father’s expectations anymore.

She’s seen many worlds outside her own, learned about people different from her and has friends who helped her see herself for who she is. She’s a young lady of her own right now.

She’s not just his daughter.

She’s also Kaguya Madoka.

As for the plans they all had for her, she’s not refusing them either.

She’s just firm and resolute about deciding things on her terms from now on.

Just because she’s not going abroad now doesn’t mean she’s never going to. Just because she's taking a different path from what was originally scheduled doesn’t mean it’s wrong or that she’s never going to make it.

Madoka knows that. She knows she can make it and that’s enough and she leaves no room for her father to argue back with her on this. She has faith in herself and that’s what matters.

Yet despite all that, Madoka’s father is still arrogant to think that Madoka has no agency of her own and has to gall to call her choices “wrong” and that only the way he chooses for her is “right”.

Look, dude. I get that you care for your daughter and that you just want the best for her. Most parents are like that.

But listen to your wife on this one because at least she gets it.

Children will not be children forever.

When they’re ready to leave the nest, you just gotta trust them and let them go.

You gotta let them spread their wings in order for them to fly (again, perfect imagery here to go with this).

And yes, they’ll stumble and make mistakes along the way but that won’t be the end of the world. They’ll still get up and keep trying and learning. They’ll still keep polishing themselves and from there, go to even greater heights.

And it looks like Madoka will do just that.

Look at her! Look at that confident smile! Not a trace of anxiety like we saw at the start of the season. She’s come such a long way! I’m so proud of her!

BRAVO, MADOKA!!  👏 👏 👏 😭 😭 😭

[cravingcrazewriting]

Hard To Understand {Treebros}

English was a hard language to learn.

Okay, that was an understatement, but when you speak German, already a hard enough language for English speakers to comprehend, they expected you to pull the weight.

Which Evan thought was dumb, but whatever.

The point was that he was in a sort of messy apartment with a single mother who was letting him stay with him, because she was apart of the foster care system and always wanted a kid of her own. She was the most fluent in German and despite having a busy schedule, still would have time for Evan.

He didn't ask why she didn't have any children. He knew better to get into her personal life like that. But he did know was that she was getting remarried to some guy named Paul Heere, who was trying to learn German for Evan's sake. He even had a son himself, named Jeremy or something.

Evan doubted he'd get adopted, because he'd recently just turned seventeen and was nearly an adult. He couldn't be on his own till he was eighteen, though.

Heidi drove him to his first day, which was in the middle of the school year, and that alone made him uncomfortable. She talked to him mainly through German all throughout the car ride, talking about how she wished he'd make new friends and that he'd have a good day.

Evan didn't think either of those options were probable, but he didn't tell Heidi that.

Inside the school, he had to rely on the four years of English knowledge he'd gathered (he wasn't fluent by a long shot) to get his schedule.

"Don't worry, your teachers know you're new so don't fret if you're late," the secretary had told him while handing him a generic schedule that of course, was in English.

He managed to make out that his first period was 'Government', which okay, he supposed he'd have to learn about how the U.S. government works, so it should be interesting.

But Government was a lot harder to understand than Evan gave credit for. It was in general just complicated and had certain regulations he had to follow. Like the draft, for instance, but Evan wasn't a U.S. citizen, didn't know if he'd actually become one, or if Heidi and Paul were willing to adopt him. He had a lot of questions but was too nervous to ask them, so he spent the rest of his first period translating his schedule.

His next class was accounting, which wouldn't be so hard if he didn't have to translate every word problem on his sheet. He'd seriously had been hoping the teacher would at the very least help make sure his translations were correct, but no, they just gave Evan the sheet and went on their way.

The whole day was a hassle, to say the least, and a lot of it was wasted by translating stuff that the teachers should've previously had done for him.

Jared was apparently the son of Heidi's friend, who'd asked him to hang out with Evan. That didn't exactly happen. Jared said hello, that he'd help him to get his mom off of his back, and said some type of insult at a long haired teen walking to presumably a lunch table.

The poor guy was tall and skinny, but that didn't mean he didn't have any form of muscle on him. He had a slight build on him, with long, curly brunette hair waving all around his shoulders. Everything about him was sharp, his face, his eyes, even the shape of his body, but was covered by a soft hoodie, trench coat, and ripped jeans.

Evan could decipher a good majority of what he was saying. He was asking Jared if he wasn't... being funny enough? No, that did not make sense, especially with the angry expression the latter was holding. It was something about a joke, but that was all he got.

Before Jared walked off, he called the guy a freak. Which well, isn't that smart? Leave a foreign exchange student alone with a fully fluent English speaker who probably doesn't know German.

He made a small noise, which could've been mistaken for a laugh, because it was short and nervous.

The taller teen snapped at him, asking what he was laughing about. Evan tried to reason that he wasn't, but all he could really say was 'no, I'm not' over and over until he was shoved into the lockers.

Afterwards, a girl that looked a bit younger than him with long, blonde hair that had faded blue streaks ran to his aid. She was wearing a jean jacket, t shirt, and jeans. She was asking way too many questions for him to decipher, and he was growing closer and closer to a panic attack as it was, so he just scrambled to get up and ran to the bathroom (thankfully the signs were a dead giveaway) to try and calm down. He was just so overwhelmed with everything, and wanted to go home.

The rest of the day didn't get any better. He felt so tired and worn out from lunchtime, and with how much stuff he had to translate, it didn't leave a lot of time to actually get work done. A few teachers already translated the homework for him, which he greatly appreciated.

In his open eighth hour, he began typing out a therapy letter. Heidi had been talking to his new therapist, who apparently recommended that he wrote them. He was meeting with him that day.

Evan vented to Heidi on the phone, speaking fast in his heavy, German accent. He talked about needing to translate everything, how the teachers only understood so much of what he was saying, and how he could barely understand his classmates. Heidi tried to sympathize with him, and assured him Dr. Sherman was one hundred percent fluent in German, which Evan found hard to believe, but he tried to, anyway.

The letter was mainly in German, mostly because it was easier for Evan and it was a test to see if Dr. Sherman wasn't lying. It basically talked about how shitty of a year he was gonna have because no one cared about the German speaking kid, that he was shoved, and that no one would care or notice if he disappeared the next day.

But the tall, dark dressed teen appeared in the lab, his letter in hand.

"I um... I wanted to apologize for earlier," he said, shifting his weight every now and again, "I didn't mean to freak out on you."

"Um," Evan couldn't believe he had to uphold a conversation with the guy who shoved him. "It is okay. I am not mad."

"You're not from around here, right?" That surprised Evan, because no one had really acknowledged it. "I've heard you're from Germany."

Only a few bits and pieces made sense to him, but he got the gist of it. "Yes. That is correct."

"Do you miss it? Germany?" They crossed their arms.

Evan furrowed his brow in thought. "There is... not much to miss. I had..." he suddenly shook his head, "I am in foster care. I have no friends."

The teen's expression fell, "That really sucks. I'm sorry..."

Evan shook his head, not wanting to think about that. "How do you know I come from Germany? What is your name?"

"Word gets around when someone new shows up," again, only bits and pieces, "And I'm Connor."

Evan smiled weakly at him, sort of wanting the conversation to end. "I am Evan. It's nice to meet you, Connor."

"Evan?" The taller teen, Connor, pulled out a sheet of paper. He read the top. "Is this yours? It has your name on it."

"Yes! It's... homework, in a way," Evan took the paper, relieved in the fact that he wrote it in German. It felt private that way. "I am... seeing someone after school... to talk to..." he snapped his fingers as he tried to remember the word.

"A therapist?" Connor offered.

"Yes!" Evan beamed. "You are terrifying!"

Connor suddenly looked like he'd been slapped in the face.

"No! I did not mean that! People are terrifying, not just you! It is..." he trailed off, thinking for a moment, before suddenly remembering the word. "Anxiety! It is what my foster mom calls... social anxiety."

Connor made a face, "I guess that explains a lot."

"And because English is hard," he shrugged sheepishly.

"Um, if you want, I could give you a little help? I know it's probably weird coming from the guy who... pushed you, but maybe I could make it up to you?" Connor offered, smiling weakly.

"Oh," the offer was a surprise to Evan, and despite not wanting to being around Connor a lot, he needed both the help and practice. "Yes. I accept."

Connor set down his satchel and dug through it, before pulling out a pen. "Got something I can write on?"

"Uhh..." he looked at his letter, and handed it to him, not really caring if he wrote on it. Dr. Sherman would be happy to see he got someone's number, at least.

Connor took the letter and wrote in the back of it. He just wrote his number and name. "Text me later so we can arrange a time, okay?"

Evan smiled weakly, taking it back, "Okay."

It was hard at first, getting used to a new situation with someone completely new who hasn't exactly left the best first impression. But Connor was smarter than Evan previously thought, because he was trying to learn German to make things easier for him. There was a lot of miscommunication at first, but slowly, they started to understand each other better and better each day. They even hung out outside of study sessions, either at the park, the old orchard, or Evan's house (Connor didn't want him to go to his house).

What was once a disliking for Connor slowly turned into liking, but evolved into love, and not just the platonic best friend love. Actually in love, with how Connor messed with his hair when he was nervous, or how he'd soften up when he knew Evan was struggling with anxiety or other things. He couldn't help but stare at him unabashedly, whenever the opportunity showed itself, like when Connor faced the opposite direction of him.

That was exactly why he didn't tell him anything. Despite staying with Heidi for almost four months, he was certain she was going to give him up and send him back to Germany. Evan wasn't sure if long distance would even work out. He knew it was hard to, anyways. Plus, he was certain Connor only saw him as a friend.

One day though, when Connor was dropping him off at home, he saw a black car outside his house and paled. It was the same car he'd arrived in when he met Heidi, and was dropped off in. It was a Jeep, he realized, unlike before.

"Evan? What's wrong?" Connor noticed his distress.

"It's- my social worker," he said slowly.

"Why're they here?" He growled at the black colored car parked in front of them.

Evan bit at his lip. "Whenever they come, they are taking me away..."

Connor's hand found Evan's arm and clutched it. "They are not taking away my best friend."

"You do not have a choice..." he muttered, "It is my mom's..."

"We could run away," Connor declared. "They can't take you away if they can't find you."

"They will look for me. I... tried running once. It did not end well," Evan shook his head. "It will not work. I do not want say goodbye but..."

"You're not legally an adult yet. They can still tell you what to do," Connor filled in, looking away.

Evan just nodded sadly. "I do not want to go... I would miss you..."

Connor stayed silent, his hand staying on Evan's arm. He didn't want to let go of him, because if he did, he'd be taken away. Even though it was inevitable, it was ground, saying that was Evan was still there, that he hadn't left just yet.

"We'll have to go eventually," Evan whispered, gazing at the hand on his upper arm.

Connor nodded shortly, a small sign Evan recognized as him being upset. Finding the smallest amount of courage he could muster, he reached over the cup holders and brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

This was enough for Connor to put a hand in his cheek, like he was urging him closer. Call it his imagination, or whatever, but it made the distance between them so small, and it was only getting smaller. Just before it happened, Evan realized they were about to kiss, and despite fearing the fact that they'd be separated, he couldn't help conjoining their lips, letting his worries disappear, even if it was for a moment.

He clutched onto Connor tightly, despite the gentleness of the kiss. He wanted to be even closer to him, to climb onto Connor's lap, or pull him on top of him, something more, but yet at the same time, it was all too much. Connor had moved his hand from his cheek down to his neck, subconsciously stroking Evan's Adam's Apple which make him jump into surprise, but also made him lean into it because it felt so nice. Connor was always so gentle with him, whether it was checking a bruise (Evan was extremely clumsy) or greeting him with a hug after a panic attack, it was welcoming and soothing, but most importantly, not suffocating. The opposite of that, in fact.

They separated and pressed their foreheads together, panting as they began to catch their breaths.

The most fantastic part?

Connor's hand never left Evan's arm. Not once.

"That was- amazing," Evan shut his eyes, refusing to move even an inch. It was like the magic of that moment would shatter if he shifted even just a bit.

"You- you liked that?" Connor sounded surprised, and when Evan opened his eyes again, Connor was staring back at him.

"I like you, Connor. A lot. More than just best friends do," he insisted, meeting Connor's gaze.

"Good," He let out a shaky breath, "Cause I do, too."

Despite the situation, Evan began to laugh. How ironic everything was, and how it was about to be ripped away from him, and he could only laugh and cry because it just wasn't fair. He finally had Connor, but he was about to loose him.

"What's so funny," Connor squeezed his arm, his voice laced with worry.

Evan shook his head, tears falling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. "We have spent- f-far too long just... liking each other from a distance, when we could've gotten together sooner... We could've had more time together as... something more."

Connor brushed away some of the big, blotchy tears from his cheeks, despite more escaping. "Hey. I'm not gonna give up that easily. I still want to be with you, and I'm more than willing to do long distance if you are."

Evan sniffled, "I... I don't know, Connor. Long distance usually does not work, and there's so much for us to loose."

Connor smiled weakly. "What's there to loose? We can make it work."

"Du bist meine Welt," Evan whispered shakily.

Connor paused, and licked his lips. "I... I don't know what that means..."

"You are my world," he repeated, running a hand through Connor's wild, messy hair. "I admit that I didn't actively try to make friends... I saw no point, especially knowing that I could be taken at a minutes notice. But you... you forced your way in, and filled an empty place in my life I didn't know I needed. I know you might forget me, but... I won't forget you."

He quickly leans over and pecked his cheek, before moving to give another to his jaw. "You're fucking insane if you think I'll forget you," he muttered against his skin.

Evan laughed, "I always thought I was non important. Glad to be proven wrong, though."

Connor pulled away, and the space was aching. He pulled out the car keys reluctantly.

Evan began to move at last. "We, we should go..."

When they exited the car, Connor briefly released his arm, but once they were side to side, he curled his fingers around Evan's. He held onto Connor tightly, because it was probably the last time they'd be there, side to side. The ironic thing was is that he was never told when he was being taken away. The social worker showed up, said, "It's time to go.", and Evan would pack up all his things and go (he was a fast packer).

He was already trembling by the time he was inside. The social worker, with long brown hair, dressed in all black, was talking to Heidi, having her sign some forms. She turned around and smiled at Evan.

"Was ist los? Soll ich meinen Koffer nehmen?" Evan asked her, fidgeting with his hands.

"Nein, heute ist ein besonderer Tag," she smiled.

"Worüber redest du?" He looked up at her.

"You are being adopted," she stated, looking back at Heidi, who nodded.

Evan stares, mouth agape. "Wha- r-really? But you... don't have much time with me..."

"That doesn't matter to me," Heidi shook her head, smiling. "With how much time we've spent together proves that you're apart of this family."

"Wait, what was that other stuff?" Connor walked over, raising an eyebrow.

"I asked if I needed my suitcase, but she said no, because today was special. When I asked why, she uh, well you know what she said," Evan clarified.

Connor started to smile. "So you're staying?"

"I am. Like it or not," Evan desperately wanted to grab Connor's hand, but he still didn't know what they even were. They didn't exactly have time beforehand to discuss it, and they thought he was leaving, as well.

"I do like it, though," Connor smirked ever so slightly.

"Even though we are both hard to understand?"

"We find our own ways, Ev. I can usually find some way to figure out what you're trying to stay."

Evan just nodded in silent agreement, taking his hand at last, because how was he supposed to argue with that?

[jksangelic]

more than friends | two (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: smut, dramatic baby angst, lots-o-fluff, roommate!jungkook,

↳ pairing: reader x jungkook

↳ warnings: very light sexual harassment from tae, a pinch of violence (chill out, jungkook), fingering, unprotected sex, stretch kink (is that the correct term lol), honestly it’s really romantic sexy times but… jungkook is still a cocky bastard. i probably threw a daddy kink back in there at some point.

↳ summary: a couple weeks since “the incident”, you and jungkook attend hoseok’s opening night to his new club, a very infamous face appearing amongst the crowd and causing some issues along the way.

↳ note: i still cannot believe how much love “more than friends” received, and per several requests (that are so greatly appreciated), i decided to add a second part. a celebration for 4k notes on part one, if you will! thank you so much for your support and i’m so incredibly excited to write more for you all!

(yes, this is the second time i’ve posted this because my tumblr was being wack. sorry if you’ve already seen this.)

↳ words: 4,954

↳ series: one | two | ?

if you prefer to read this on ao3, click here.

The rough of Jungkook’s hand against your tapping leg was always comforting, he thinks. Mapping out every curve of muscle and fat was a transfixing action for him; therapeutic, if he must say. He knew that the situation called for his care, your leg insisting to bob at an incredible pace and hands running through your hair so often that despite your necessity to wash it every damn day, he was positive your roots suffered from greasiness. For once, his touch didn’t simmer your running thoughts. Not tonight, it wouldn’t.

“Hey, baby, why don’t we just tell Hobi that we’ll come some other night? I just… I don’t know if I feel like dealing with all of that yet,” you try, holding his prying hand with both of your own.

Jungkook shakes his head, either that or the vehement shaking of his Jeep throttles it from side-to-side and hell you dreamed of the day he would trade it in. “Not a chance, you’ve been dying to go to this since Hoseok-hyung mentioned it over two weeks ago. Don’t let that bastard stop you from doing something you want to do,” his face sneers once again at the thought of Taehyung, “I’ll be there, anyway. He won’t get near you. Not if I can help it.”

You try to allow his words to settle in while your stomach does anything but, resorting to picking at the fake tattoos trailing up your right arm, one arrow-stricken heart with the thick lettering of “mom” in the middle looking more like a mangled scab. “Don’t pick at those,” Kook scolds, “I spent a whole dollar at the Dollar Store for them.”

When you arrive at the long awaited Soul, the parking lot is filled with Hoseok’s many guests. It was a very big night for him, opening his own nightclub in the heart of downtown as he always dreamed. You wouldn’t miss his special day for the world, yet, the prospect of seeing Taehyung (damn Hoseok and his socially-adept personality) made you reconsider such a feeling.

After a few minutes of circling the crowded lot, Jungkook comes around to open your door for you, pink crop top making you giggle for the first time in hours. He cocks his head in annoyance, “Is my suffering funny? How do you wear these? I feel so exposed.”

You pick at your nails, purring a, “It’s how I attract all my lovers.” He rolls his eyes in response, only willing to deal with your overflowing conviction when you’re a feast to the eyes.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go in, yeah? You look too hot to not stop by just for a bit. If you feel too shitty, then I’ll take you back home. Deal?” He kisses you tenderly, receiving your yes in muffled lipstick stains to his mouth and hiking your leg to stretch around his waist playfully.

Fake retching sounds in the distance, Jimin popping into your peripheral with a celebratory bottle and a face of utter displeasure, “Are you guys going to come into Hobi’s new place or are you just going to ditch to fuck in his parking lot?” Jungkook growls into your hair, releasing your leg from its warm spot on his hip and moving enough for you to hop out.

“Probably the latter if you weren’t such a cockblocker,” your hostile boyfriend answers beneath his breath.

They continue to bicker even upon entry to Soul, your ears completely tuning out at what a beauty Hoseok really set up. It was a little more upscale than your average nightclub, traditionally dark but vaguely lit by the surreal amount of neon signs adorning the walls; shapes and sentences combining together to create a uniquely charismatic atmosphere. The furniture was ultimately minimalistic to avoid tackiness, the bar large and mostly similar to the rest. It was predominantly one of the best looking clubs you’ve ever stepped foot in, props to Hobi. It distracted from the crowd that awaits below, sudden anxiety gobbling you back up at the sight of so many bodies and knowing one of them was one you’d like to forego ever seeing again.

“Oh my—I get it! You’re each other, right? That’s fucking fantastic,” a voice blares, breaking your trance yet again.

“Hobi! I’m so glad you understand it,” you say with a smile, throwing fake-tattooed arms around his neck in embrace. He takes another good once-over when you release him, sunny cheeks practically glowing in the dark.

“Heavens, you look better as Jungkook than Jungkook does,” Hobi teases, giving Kook a rundown of his own and chuckling at the sight of him in anything other than the color black. “How many handies did she offer to get you in a crop-top? Are those… Are those mom jeans you’re wearing?”

Jungkook grumpily swats at the older’s cheeky hands when it smooths over his toned and very much exposed stomach, “She didn’t offer me any, goddammit. Fuck, why didn’t I think of that?” You roll your eyes in only the smallest amount of amusement.

“What about you, Jung? Now that you own a club, you dress as a pimp?” Jungkook backfires, grabbing a fistful of his white suit and examining it.

“No, you ass. I’m the Korean Michael Jackson,” he explains, showcasing a few haughty steps to the blaring music. How did you even become friends with… this?

“Okay, well, we’re going to go indulge in your new digs. We’ll catch up with you back in a bit,” you giggle. He waves the both of you off, immediately busying himself with the next group that comes in. Jungkook whines to stop by the bar and pile up, though you don’t reject his request in the slightest. Rather, you drink that shit up.

In the midst of spilling drinks and the haze of foul-smelling smoke do you find yourself in the crowd, sprinkling grins here and loud hello’s there, inevitably shrinking into Jungkook’s figure with the more people you mindfully tally up. He doesn’t mind, albeit tugging on your shirt to finally settle in one place of the floor to thoroughly soak up your presence. “We’ll get the rest later. Just warm up and dance already, brat.” You hum and trail your hands under and up his shirt, relishing in the rare occasion (and soon to be discontinued) of your boyfriend in a crop top. He returns the favor, gripping your ass in it’s pitch black latex skirt.

“You should dress like me more often. I love seeing you in black, it’s sexy.”

“I wish you wore pink more. It suits you.”

“Should we just switch the roles entirely?” he jesters, poking at your tattoos like a marveling child.

You smirk, “Should I buy a strap?”

His face drains of all color in an instant, nostrils flaring, “Ok, I’ve had enough of this joke.” Pfft, such fragile masculinity.

And like that, your worries drain as if they never existed. Jungkook made more of an effort than ever before as your friend to make you happy. Of course, altering the boundaries of your relationship from platonic to romantic was the case, but Jungkook was more fragile, now. More caring. More protective. Taehyung would never want to change for you. That realization would never stray from your mind.

The costumes around you sway vividly, wings of fairies wavering, tails of various animals poking one another, characters of an arrangement of current shows testing your knowledge of pop culture. You’re more than enthralled to be here in the warmth of your friends.

“Having fun, babydoll?” Jungkook husks out from behind, fingers digging into your skirt as you haphazardly grind against him. “You’re giving me… issues back here.” You melt in his hold, twirling about so you can face the man of your dreams and kiss him as such.

“You’re so good to me, daddy. Thanks for taking me out tonight,” you purr. His jaw slacks at his name, raking lust-brimmed eyes over your spilling breasts in their matching midnight teddy, innocently tucked away into your skirt as if he didn’t know what it looked like alone. Spoiler: he’s seen it a countless amount of times.

“I know it’s for the sake of great costume, but shit, Y/N. Wearing lingerie in public? I don’t remember verbally stating that I condone this,” he grunts, biting at your neck shamelessly.

“I’m trying to be sweet and you’re focused on my tits,” you harrumph, pulling away from the horndog waste of your boyfriend before he leaves a giant hickey on your collar. “Go make yourself useful and get me another drink! And tuck your boner!” He rolls his eyes but complies, even squatting awkwardly to shift his growing hard-on in those “mom jeans”. You chuckle as you watch him go, undulating mindlessly and overflowing with adoration.

And possibly piss. Most definitely urine.

You slither your way off the dance floor, scoping out all possible restroom areas and settling on the hallway with the humongous neon light that spelled out “toilet” as would for the entrance to heaven. Thanks, Hoseok.

The music zones out with every step down the hall, drunken tittering echoing when it seems to stretch farther and farther like a scene off The Haunted Mansion. A man stumbles out from the restrooms, desperately strangling his belt into submission but failing quite miserably. Laughs bubble, yet again, out from your throat at the sight.

“Is something funny—Oh,” the man smirks, deep voice dragging ice up your back, “Hey, kitten.”

Your face squishes into repugnance, Taehyung roaring at your reaction and swerving closer to your frozen body, “Didn’t miss me so much, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Tae. Leave me alone.”

“’Tae’? Oh, honey, you can’t avoid me if you tried. Shame, I wish you would’ve at least called me after that whole… ordeal.” Not realizing you cower away from his figure until your shoulders hit the wall, you flinch. In this proximity, you realize Taehyung’s eyes are bloodshot, gorgeously half-lidded and even more entrancing than the last time you saw him. His makeup makes it worse, dark eyeshadow smudged out and fake blood dripping from his full lips; a vampire suited him. Cold, indifferent, ready to suck you up without remorse.

“Taehyung, buzz off. You’re high.”

Trying to attempt your escape, he traps you between his arms, head dipping low to closely probe your own costume and grunting, “You knew I’d be here, huh? You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t want to. So what’s it?” he slurs, “Need some company?”

You push uselessly at his chest, head unfortunately spinning and breathing imitating possibly anything but distress, “Tae, I c-can’t. Let me go, I need to go. I’m sorry,” you pant. His thumb swipes across your cheek, sweet as poison.

“Sorry? Sorry for what, kitten,” his breath sears next to your ear, “Sorry that I caught you fucking your stupid roommate?” His snickers vibrate, guilt resurfacing when it shouldn’t and you should’ve have never come out tonight goddammit.

“J-Jungkook,” you voice, cracking with need and too quiet for even Taehyung to hear. You fist at his shirt, desperately but weakly clawing your way out and wincing away from Kim’s nipping mouth.

All Jungkook sees is Taehyung pressed against you, your whimpers quiet as if it’s trying to keep a secret. All Jungkook hears is that awful, cocky voice growling into your neck with unadulterated lust. All Jungkook feels is red.

Although your eyes blur with frustrated tears, you render that Taehyung must have finally heeded your request when your chest is free of his weight. That is, until you see him on the ground, your enraged boyfriend pelting bloody knuckles into Taehyung’s once-flawless face.

“Jungkook!” you scream, falling onto your knees and tugging on his shirt before he kills him, for all you know. “Jungkook, stop!”

He does, faltering away from your grasps and standing abruptly. Taehyung groans, costume blood indistinguishable from his own, real fluid. Jungkook stares at you with pain etched onto his angular features, rage replacing it soon after.

“You. You weren’t afraid to see him because of what happened. You were afraid to see him because you still love this douchebag, don’t you?” he spits nonsensically. You reach for him, head shaking and stumbling over words of reassurance, but he denies it all.

“What the hell is going on here?” Hoseok yells, rounding the corner and eyes blowing wide at the sight before him. Jungkook scoffs, shoulder-checking his hyung on his way out. Tripping over yourself, you run after him, tears stinging hot down your face and heart racing.

“Jungkook! Jungkook, listen! That’s not what—”

He comes to a complete halt; how you don’t crash right into him, you have no clue. The tired expression he wears when he turns breaks your heart, “I love you, Y/N. I love you. And there’s no room for that shithead over there. I’m the one who cares about you.”

“Jesus, Jungkook! If you would just let me—" you try again, but Jungkook is off once again. Griping at your idiot of a boyfriend’s stubbornness, you watch him leave. You could scream if you weren’t in the middle of public, rage and sorrow and guilt practically flowing out of your pores. Instead, you round yourself back to the hallway to find a wincing Taehyung propped against the wall and a worried Hoseok tending to him.

“Jungkook thought we were canoodling, I guess. So he beat the shit out of him,” you explain, Hoseok jumping at your reappearance. Squatting down next to him, you sigh, “He left.”

“The guy really packs a punch,” Tae admits, wiping for the umpteenth time at his bloody nose, “I think he knocked the high out of me.” You scowl.

“Do you need a ride, Y/N?” Hoseok offers. You felt bad; this was his own event and you ruined it, but you could really use his help so you nod a little reluctantly.

“I’m sorry. Do you mind if you give us a minute?” you ask, nodding to Taehyung. Hobi complies, standing and waiting at the end of the hallway until you need him back.

“Taehyung, I’m sorry things ended the way they did. I should’ve explained myself but I was still kinda confused about… whatever.

“But me and Jungkook are together now. So. If you can kindly fuck off or something.”

“Jesus, Y/N, I know I can be a dick but you could have at least tried to mention that.”

“You make everything difficult, Taehyung. From the day we met,” you accuse, “You were the worst fuck I’ve ever come across.”

He chuckles, looking into your eyes for the first time tonight and looking genuinely apologetic, “You’re not a bad gal, Y/N. I think we could’ve been something good.”

What the hell?

He didn’t get to do this; claim you one second, reject you the next, propose you could’ve been good another. Perhaps you dreamt of this day a long time ago, secretly wishing and hoping and longing for Taehyung to want you the same way that you wanted him.

But all you can think of now is Jungkook. His buck teeth and his horrible omelets and how he recently started sleeping in your bed with you instead of his own. Maybe, for a while, you just accepted the affection Taehyung never thought to give you, as horrible as it sounds. But now, with Taehyung subtly offering, you know for sure it’s just Jungkook.

You love Jungkook.

“Relationships aren’t for you, Tae.”

His smile turns mischievous, “I suppose not.”

Hoseok presses that you aren’t a nuisance all the way home, comfortingly rubbing at your back as you chew on your nails. How unfortunate, coming to his party a wreck and leaving it just the same.

Your goodbyes are short and apologetic; he practically has to nudge you with the hood of his car to enter your apartment complex.

“Hello?” you question softly, shutting the front door with a quiet click and padding through the dim room. For the most part, everything is shut off and you even wonder if Jungkook came home at all. Slinking into the hallway, a quick glimpse to your room reveals he isn’t asleep on your mattress like he normally is, your heart cracking slightly at the revelation. His own door is shut, and you suppose he would sleep in his own room after tonight.

You, on the other hand, don’t even feel a wink of drowsiness.

Jungkook hears the shower shutter through his closed door, using all of the force collected in his body not to step in with you and properly talk about the events that occurred. He doesn’t, because he’s stubborn like that. He doesn’t, because he knows your showers are normally for your personal times of mulling over complications.

And even though he’s furious, his chest warms of admiration.

You wash your tensions down the drain, steam circulating the small bathroom and no doubt fogging the mirror. The valve is verging on the edge of it’s setting, scalding water undoubtedly leaving your skin a punishing red. It’s how you were able to think clearly; your aches and worries literally seared off and paving way for new, clean thoughts.

You knew he would forgive you the minute things are explained, laid out in the open. As quick as a bag of chips can be inhaled, the man would cradle you in his arms again with a lilt of stubborn understanding. But that didn’t calm you as it should. Perhaps, it was yourself that was having a hard time with confrontation. Maybe, at the time,  you were still hoping that Taehyung would come for you and never let you go, a longing for a miracle that wasn’t even really that much of a miracle. The lack of, instead, was your epiphany.

And Jungkook was so good. Sure, an asshole, but he was all the things you hoped for in Tae. Even more, he loves you.

Though you realize your feelings for Taehyung have dissipated and rather blossom for Jungkook, the lingering guilt of being able to see Kook, touch him, kiss him, sleep with him is sickening. How could you be so cruel?

You step out of your shower unresolved, and a little queasy. Were you always having existential crisis’ in the bathroom?

Unconsciously, you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s room once again, internally debating what the best course of action would be. Just by turning the knob and inching the door ajar, the scream of it’s hinges makes you want to rip it off completely, already regretting the intrusion. Welp, it’s too late.

Jungkook lays atop his comforter like always, a few joking arguments stemming from the fact that he really doesn’t need blankets when the guy’s a walking heater. “It’s for the aesthetics of a nice room,” he had said, “What kind of mongrel would I be for having a naked bed?”

From your standing, he looks asleep, bare chest rising and falling; up, down, pause, up, down. His thick brows stitched together like he fell asleep angry and you roll your eyes at the thought.

He doesn’t even falter when your weight shifts the bed, sitting on the open spot next to his torso and ghosting your fragile hands over his locks, waiting for him to wake and chew you out. When he continues to purr in his slumber, you pet him gently, hair dark and soft across your fingers.

“I… I’m glad we went tonight,” you whisper, barely even producing enough noise for yourself to catch, “And I’m glad I ran into Taehyung. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have noticed how good you are for me. I’m so thankful to him.”

Breathing.

“And I feel horrible for making you doubt yourself, even if it was unintentional,” your throat heats, pain running down as your voice wobbles, “I wish—I wish I was as good for you as you are for me.

“J-Jungkook,” your tears run freely down your face now, “I love you. I love you, so much. There’s no me without you. I don’t want anyone else—“

You stop there, afraid your pathetic sobs will wake him. Leaning down, you gently bury your face in his hair, kissing him softly and letting the smell of his shampoo tickle your nose. Your love engulfs, fills your bones, makes you so dizzy that it hurts.

A few seconds pass before you remove yourself from him, easing your body off his mattress with precision.

Your world flips, throat so heavy you don’t even try to yelp as you flop onto the other side of his body, his strong arms wrapped around your ribs and holding you tightly against him as your legs drape over his. “Don’t cry, love,” he husks, “God, I’ve been wanting for you to say that for so, so long.”

“Jungkook,” you weep in panic, “Jungkook, nothing happened, I didn’t do anything—”

“I know. I’m sorry, I got a little presumptuous.” He brings his lips to your eyes, kissing the tears away and sprinkling a few more on your cheeks.

Your towel slipped from his attack, breasts peaking under the cloth and inviting Jungkook to travel lower to give them attention as well. His voice is deep enough to rattle you up, cracking slightly when he says, “I just want you to be mine.”

You lace your fingers through his mop once again, massaging his scalp and letting the moment sink in. This is what was needed—a reconciliation of sorts. Through both of your stubborn minds and limbs did neither of you properly close your old path to open a new one for him, did neither of you talk. It was new, exciting, uncharted territory. You had jumped in without really understanding the rules and concepts, but it didn’t matter now. Not when everything now fell into place like a puzzle that was just ignorantly started from the inside out, rather than setting the foundation of each side and corner.

“I am yours. Every little bit of me is yours now. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. You did well,” you praise, smoothing his bangs up and away from his face. His eyes are glossy, enough moisture to collect in his long eyelashes but not enough to stain his cheeks like yours do.

He looks up, finally, slowly closing the distance to rake over your features before he kisses you oh-so softly. It’s the most fragile he’s ever been with you, the most genuine. His lips mold to your movements, his tongue only follows when yours pokes out, he takes as little as possible.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, “you can.”

“Don’t want to ruin anything.”

“It’s not. This is different.”

He flips you to your side, holding you close and enclosing you in the safety of his body. When he surrenders, he dips his fingers between your legs and uses the shower’s dew to stretch you across two of his digits, moving carefully but diligently. The feeling of your bare back to his large chest, for some reason, is more intimate than you normally find his common proximity and it makes you sigh.

The jabbing of his own problem against your ass prompts you to reach behind and grasp him firmly, warming him up without sneaking into his briefs just yet.

“You always feel so good,” he pants, twitching in your grip and propping himself on his elbow so he can nibble on your ear, “here, too.” The arching of his fingers in your heat makes you cry out.

“Are your hands okay?” you question the same second you remember his injuries. He chuckles.

“My knuckles hurt a bit, but I patched them up for the most part. It’s not going to keep me from fingering you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” his voice soothes, a third finger added for reassurance. The stretch is sublime, foregoing your own job and grinding against him as an incompetent apology. Jungkook doesn’t mind it, moving his hips in little circles to stimulate himself even further; rather, he likes it quite a bit.

“Ready?”

You don’t answer, arching your spine instead so Jungkook’s head can easily find your entrance, pushing his way inside without even removing two fingers that remain buried deep in your cunt. He knows you like a little pain with your pleasure, pain that doesn’t remain when the strain subsides and the languid thrusts send shivers up your skin.

“Oh god, Jungkook, that feels—you feel so amazing,” you groan, feeling the stickiness of your juices every time his hips meet the curve of your ass, deep squelches getting louder the longer he repeats the movement, “s-slow, please, keep it slow, baby.”

He lazily rolls into you, each shove perfectly aiming for the bundle of nerves that makes your eyes heavy; using all the strength in your body not to shut your thighs when Kook’s hand, littered with old and new tattoos, stays in its comfortable spot. His digits curl every so often, as if to remind you they’re still there, making you purr in his embrace even more.

The heat of his body emanates, warming you up despite how cold it is outside and in the apartment. As he protects you from the cold so will he from anything else, and it makes your heart stutter.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps as lovingly as he can into your ear, nothing but pure desire to hear the three words drip from your lips.

“I love you.” You mean it.

“More,” he begs; he doesn’t care if he sounds pathetic.

“I love you, I love you, I love you. Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, I love you with every fiber of my being,” you hiccup, pawing at his intrusive hand. He removes it hastily, replacing it’s warmth by sticking his fingers to your tongue to lap up.

“I never want to stop hearing you say that,” he admits, pace quickening so that your breasts bounce with each focused push into your walls. You could cum like this, foggy tears blurring his bedroom with how close your orgasm is. It’s cut short when he takes himself out and sits up, pulling you onto your back and slotting himself between your legs.

His hands find support on his headboard while you wrap weak legs around him, one on his thigh and the other on his back as he rocks into you once more.

The tattoos on his chest move whenever he flexes, a sort of mirage entrancing you as he works your pussy to reach the same amount of ecstasy before. It’s the first time you can really look at his face, as well, all images of loving and soft features a complete and utter miscalculation. Even though he makes love to you like no other, he has a face of control in all of its entirety. One of his brows is quirked, his tongue poking his upper lip in focus, his abs constricting then relaxing. He knows only he can make you feel like this, hips cocky as they slap against your skin in unbridled dominance.

His normally doe-eyes glimmer with devilment, “Who can fuck you as good as I do?”

You sigh, “I thought we were being cute.”

“I’m not fucking cute. I’m fucking you,” he growls, ramming into your poor pussy so firmly that the headboard thumpthumpthumps against the wall, no doubt damaging the paint. “Is there anyone better than me?”

“You know there isn’t,” you retort with a squeak.

“I want to hear you say it.”

You moan flagrantly on a particular jab that makes your insides coil and your entire body shuffle up his sheets, three or four seconds too long he snarls a, “Say it!”

“No one’s better than daddy, I promise,” you choke, lamely reaching up for him as if you weren’t already close enough. He obliges, propping his weight on one elbow and smoothing over tears you didn’t know were shed with a thumb. He quenches his thirst with an open-mouth kiss, moans that starts to resemble mine, mine, mine onto your tongue as his hips falter in both fatigue and the aching need to cum. You coo him through it, nipping at his jaw and whispering words of praise when he whines vulnerably. The bratty, stubborn Jungkook was long gone; the sensitive and adoring love of your life resting, quite heavily, atop your chest as he fills you up silently.

“Not so tough, huh, baby?” He grunts unpleasantly.

His body rolls off, head remaining in the crook of your neck, “You just took a shower,” he says. He can’t even open his eyes if he tried, he feels so goddamn tired.

“Yeah, I’ll just wash up tomorrow.”

“Let me clean you,” he pries, forcing his brain to cooperate for two seconds, please. It doesn’t take much strength to keep him in position.

“Relax, Kookie.”

You trace over the ink on his back softly, outlining the lotuses a few times and kneading out the tension in his shoulder blades. The ticking of his wall clock is all that’s left to hear, the Iron Man behind the glass staring at you in an uncomfortable manner. You’d have to get rid of that if you were going to be together.

“Hey,” you start, a sudden idea exciting you. Peering down, Jungkook’s eyes are sealed shut, lips parted only enough to feel his faint breath as he dozes off into a deep slumber. It isn’t fake this time, you know for sure.

Oh well.

You rest your chin against his head and try your best to sleep as well; you suppose you could tell him in the morning.

A/N: hello sweet angel babies! again, thank you for supporting me thus far and i apologize that this isn’t as filthy as the first one. I really wanted to make Jungkook more genuine in this. However, this will be one of those fics where’ll I’ll casually drop in some non-smutty/smutty drabbles every so often!

With that being said, I don’t mind requests for drabbles as well as character asks! Feel free to drop-in whenever.

with love, poppy.

[yogaadvise]

5 reasons why teaching alignment matters

You've most likely, eventually, been instructed to Stack your knee over your ankle in Warrior 2 or Align your shoulders over your wrists in Slab present. Just recently there has actually been much conversation in the yoga exercise world regarding whether or not yoga exercise instructors ought to give so many anatomical positioning signs like these.

As a passionate SAFE YOGA EXERCISE lover as well as a 6-year professional makeup educator of yoga teachers-in-training, my reply is a loud and unquestionable 'YES' to comprehensive and also smart placement cues. Below are 5 of my factors why:

1 FEEL ME, TOUCH ME, HEAL ME: Straightforward body awareness

When I was asked lately in a meeting why I think individuals need to practice Hatha yoga exercise, my response was: 'Yoga allows you to have the alternative experience of your body and also where it is positioned, at any kind of moment, in area as well as time ... basically the superb experience of being entirely symbolized, of sensation greatly ALIVE."

The bulk of trainees concerning exercise yoga for the very first time are hardly knowledgeable about their body as a whole. The majority of individuals experience themselves as parts ... fragmented.

The majority of trainees practicing yoga for the very first time are barely mindful of their body in its entirety. The majority of people experience themselves as parts ... fragmented.

Life has a means of doing this to us: throwing us curve sphere after captain hook (work, worries, traumas) and afterwards desensitizing us from the concerns that have built up in our tissues. I inform my teachers-in-training constantly that one of our many vital tasks as yoga teachers is to put 'Humpty Dumpty' back with each other again so she or he can go back into their lives and also do whatever it is that they do (for work or play) around again ... with zest, vitality, and incredible sense of feeling complete.

Alignment cues motivate people to concentrate their minds on a certain body component, the signs instruct them how to relocate (within their very own variety of motion), location it as well as infuse it, exactly how to feel it if it is tight, tense or restricted in some method. This then opens up the trainee approximately the much deeper understanding of their body and the myriad of possibilities (as well as realities) of much less pain as well as pain and even more liberty, simplicity as well as array of movement (where perhaps they were even not aware there was none).

2 THAT ARE YOU? Stiring up to one's physical regular patterns

Whether it be from resting at a desk all day, driving a car for a work, training for a marathon or bicycle race or resting on your stomach with your head relied on the right for three decades - habitual patterns have been established in your body that will detrimentally affect (deteriorate) the body as a whole.

Whether it be from 'automatic' activities inscribed over a lifetime, mishaps, psychological traumas or considerable life occasions, purposeless habitual motion patterns will negatively affect (weaken) the body as a whole.

Also, deposit from accidents, emotional traumas or large life events like growing, birth as well as lugging a baby on your hip will certainly establish regular patterns in the body that are not useful to the body's continuous attempts to achieve vibrant stability (natural state of harmony, balance and also radiant health and wellness).

The human body is composed of regarding 300 joints and each joint has a specific quantity of all-natural activities done by certain agonist (key mover) and synergist (assistant) skeletal muscles. In order for the body to be radiantly healthy and execute at its maximum degrees efficiently, all connective tissue (bones, tendons, muscular tissues, ligaments and fascia) require to fully experience the equilibrium of toughness as well as suppleness - not as well tight, strained or limited in one area and also loosened or weak in another.

Teachers that show bone placement additionally require to show correct muscular tissue activation - informing their pupils on what skeletal muscular tissues move and also position the bones in certain shapes (presents and counterposes). This is so essential for both on- and also off-the-mat long life, if we have the knowledge as well as the experience of how to appropriately relocate the body we will be much less prone to soft tissue wear as well as tear and the risk of injuries will be diminished.

3 GRAVITY: Always a factor

As we continually and also continuously exercise the numerous various designs of Hatha yoga, working to experience the body-breath-mind union, we will undoubtedly obtain more powerful, more flexible, more able to experience feelings of entire body vibrancy as well as buoyancy. Up until after that we usually land on the mat experiencing the reverse: thickness, tightness, with a body that seems fragmented (experiencing the individual components versus the fantastic sum whole).

Sometimes I believe us older, wiser (wink, wink) and seasoned yoga exercise educators neglect what it felt to be a new yoga professional: puzzled, uncoordinated, clumsy, weak, incapable to float, fly or also stabilize! My partner, Dan, came up with an excellent example for this:

If you sent out a number of seasoned/master yoga educators (all asanas executed easily, pranayama techniques mastered, bandhas flawlessly engaged, reflective minds totally as well as utterly concentrated on their drishtis) on a school trip to a world where gravity is a lot different to ours below on planet (as if the air was like the consistency of honey) and asked them to exercise yoga exercise like they do back residence ... they will inevitably check out each various other and also ask HOW do we navigate these bodies? Where are the inhabitants of this earth ... can they educate us exactly how to move as well as position our bodies in such a method we won't obtain hurt?

I enjoyed this analogy of his! What would it really feel like to be a beginner once again ... to be educated how to relocate your body in a means that defies the restraints gravity puts upon it?

What would it seem like to be a newbie once again ... to be educated just how to move your body in a manner that opposes the constraints gravity puts upon it?

We all have had the experience (as well as if you are reading this as well as it hasn't took place yet ... IT WILL!) of a position that we battled, sweated and also vowed with, that with attentive technique, became unbelievably easy as well as stylish. Alignment-based yoga instructors are instructing basic bone-stacking as well as muscular tissue activation standards (not all positionings help all body kinds, obviously) so that the student can discover this ease, the free-flow of pranic power that is so Sukha sweet!

4 SECURE YOGA ROCKS: Tendons are not elastic

Wrong placement - breaking the natural functioning order of the bones and joints - of one's body parts can place feasible injurious stress and anxiety on the surrounding connective tissue - especially when gravity is a factor! A reality to keep in mind: tendons are not flexible! As soon as stretched from their original form they will never ever return to their original form. As a result of this, it is not beneficial to the ligaments to 'hang' on your bones in a stretch - again, especially when gravity is a factor.

Once extended from their original shape ligaments will never ever return to their original form. Due to this it is not helpful to the ligaments to 'hang' on your bones in a stretch.

For example, in a posture with a greater center of gravity such as Warrior 1 or 2, the knee ought not to surpass the stacked ankle/heel. Or else, the quantity of pressure that the upper leg bone put on the kneecap ligament as well as the knee joint tendons can cause injury - both from recurring movement and also traumatic. A reduced centre of gravity posture such as Low lunge doesn't necessarily have the exact same quantity of pressure on the knee. Some knees, even in such a low pose, should also not pass through past the ankle/heel.

Another instance is to make certain your shoulders do not dip listed below your joints in Chaturanga

Dandasana. This puts unneeded (and also damaging) weight on the tendons, ligaments and bursas of the shoulder girdle and the arm joint. Be aware of keeping the ribs in line with the parallel-to-the-earth upper arm bones in this reduced slab posture. By not allowing the ribs to dip reduced you prevent any kind of unneeded load-bearing anxiety on the tendons of the sternoclavicular and acromioclavicular joints.

For lots a lot more on this read For the love of the shoulder as well as Our complex shoulders and also Chaturanga Dandasana

It is ok, however, to have the shoulders lower than the elbow joints as you relax on the floor as well as prior to you use your back muscle mass to peel your body off the mat in Bhujangasana (Cobra Posture) since your alignment to gravity is reduced (resting on the ground) as well as you're using your erector spinae muscle mass (back extensors) to lift your body off the mat.

Up to this factor all these examples I have discussed have been ones I have actually experienced many various other yoga exercise experts struggle with discomfort, pain and injury in.

A last example is one I have actually directly experienced. I am a hyper-extender of the knees, without any muscular tissue activity I have 'dropped' right into the rear of my knees given that I was a child. Well, this quality of mine was celebrated in a details kind of hot yoga I have actually been lovingly exercising considering that 1999 where a recurring sign is to 'lock your knees, lock your knees, secure your knees'. Easy for a hyper-extender such as myself to do ... every class, 6 days a week for two years directly I secured my knee in 6 standing postures (higher facility of gravity, labelled weight bearing as well as 4 of them getting on one leg just). The tendon damage in my knees is so considerable that occasionally I stumble when I stroll because I am so unstable there. Now, when I practice that kind of yoga exercise (I still like as well as value the collection sequence) I micro-bend my knee to shield this valuable joint - a crucial safety and security alignment hint not normally offered but is vital for the health and wellness of the tendons of the knee!

5 BE BELOW CURRENTLY: Atha Yoga exercise Anushasanam

Lastly, one of one of the most yogic factors for teaching and exercising alignment-based yoga exercise: GREATEST EXISTENCE IN THE SPIRITUAL NOW. One of the most profound utterances besides AUM is the sanskrit work ATHA which means CURRENTLY. Yoga suggests union and also among the lots of translations of this principle of unity is the body-mind-breath-spirit link that truly can just be feasible RIGHT NOW. This minute. RIGHT HERE. NOW. Are you right here? Where are you? Are you planning or fretting about the future? Are you feeling resentment or regret about what occurred in the past? Are you right here being, breathing, experiencing the magic that is constantly unraveling or are you ... oops, you simply missed it. Currently, below it is again. Be here currently ... and also currently ... as well as currently ...

Are you below? Where are you? Are you below being, breathing, experiencing the magic that is constantly unfolding or are you ... oops, you just missed it.

Teachers that continuously teach their trainees exactly how to align their bodies in such a way that one of the most Sthira (stability) as well as Sukha (comfort) will be experienced are supplying their pupils something to concentrate their minds on. For 60, 75 or 90 mins the trainee's mind is paying attention to the instructor, paying attention to their body's toughness as well as weak points, paying attention to their breath to locate both obstructions as well as liberty. Throughout this moment there are no bother with the children, the costs, the one in charge, the aging and also troubling parents, etc. Essentially, alignment based courses are meditations right into the now, where the body actually moves, changes and relaxes. The mind likes to desert the body ... placement based yoga exercise offers the pupil a means to the body, a back to the NOW.

Read all the articles in Jennilee's collection on protecting against yoga exercise injuries:

The breath, prana as well as the vayus

The bandhas

Bone alignment

Muscle intelligence

Joint integration

[britt-rae-law]

It wasn’t Rocket Science, It was just Brain Surgery

09.12.2016 - It has been 10 months since my brain surgery to partially remove a central brain tumor. Emotionally and psychologically coming to terms with the experience has been the hardest part. It has been a difficult topic to really talk about and explain to others, which is why I have found it easier to shrug it off as no big deal. I also feel self-conscious about my experience to a certain degree. But lately I have been thinking about how reading other people’s stories about brain surgery recovery helped me in a way no one else could have: explaining what to expect, if certain things are normal or not, the do’s and don’ts of recovery and finding the personal motivation to recover. I have learnt a lot about myself and have had an epiphany about life and identity. I came to realise that your entire being - who you are - is shaped by your brain. You are because you can think and feel; and you can’t do that without your brain. Your whole body is just there to protect and utilise your brain. I have decided that it might not only be cathartic for me to write my own experience, but could also be encouraging and useful for others.

On the 2nd of February 2016, my world was changed forever. After months of going to doctors in order to treat - or at least find out the cause of - severe migraines, random projectile vomiting, pins and needles, constant fatigue and sometimes blurred vision, I finally found out from a specialist that I have a brain tumor. Sitting in the waiting room and seeing the nurses facial responses to my MRI scan was unsettling. Waiting rooms are undoubtedly a symbol of anxiousness. I remember not knowing what I was about to be told, but feeling the tangible sense of unease fill the room. I could never have predicted how much my life was about to change.

The news was surreal, one of those “this happens to other people, not to me” moments. I didn’t grasp then what I was being told. After a couple of days back at home, I returned to hospital where I met the neurosurgeon who was to perform my operation. He carefully explained the procedure; cut open my head, remove the veins of the tumor, cut down the middle of my brain, drain the growth then cut out what they can. Funny how the first time I cried was when he told me that I would be missing three months of varsity.

I don’t remember much after that. I had the surgery on the 9th of February and had been in a deep sleep for a couple of days. I was told that I had two grand-mal seizures and an aneurysm; my left side having lost motion. Waking up and becoming conscious really are two different things. I had been told stories about being awake and having conversations with people, but I do not remember any of those experiences. During the process of becoming conscious, I was suddenly aware of how different everything felt. How difficult it was to perform simple tasks and that everything over-stimulated me to the point of exhaustion. As I was slowly becoming aware of my body and what I had just been through – knowing the long row of stitches across my head is evidence of the trauma – I became responsive and emotive.  I was experiencing fear, anxiety, restlessness, nervousness, worry, doubt, and a lingering unknown. There was a massive flood of emotion for a couple of weeks owing to the realization that I was alive and had survived something so traumatic. Then I couldn’t sleep. I was so scared. The nurses would bathe me and talk to me until I calmed down. I remember having asked to brush my teeth at 3 A.M and the nurse said no. That was the first time I cried since the operation. I think I cried every day after that. They don’t tell you if you will eventually stop being so emotional; and if so, when?

My biggest shock came when the physiotherapist asked me to move my legs up and down and I could only move my right one. I would lie there for ages thinking, “move”, and picturing my left leg sliding upwards and downwards. But nothing would happen. The frustration experienced in that moment was something I had never felt before. The disconnection between my thoughts and actions and that loss of control was absolutely terrifying. Looking at me, you would never think I was having such an intense internal struggle. I may have just been lying there, but I was spending every waking moment trying to overcome my body’s resistance to movement through thought. I felt trapped inside my own body. That’s when I realised that you and your body are so separate. I experienced this again in situations where I would grab things tightly in my left hand, clenched fist, and be unable to let go. I had grabbed a nurse once, and no matter how much I wanted to let go, my hand was not listening. This was a similar side effect to split brain patients; my left side of my body was not listening to the right hemisphere of my brain.

The realization that I stuttered, and spoke very slowly, frustrated me. I would try to speak as little as possible and would grow despondent upon hearing myself, as it did not coincide with what was going on inside my mind. I had uncontrollable tremors in my hands and arms. An occupational therapist tested me with some basic mathematics and memory exercises. It was harder than I thought it would be. I felt like a child as I struggled to identify shapes and objects. At times I would be okay then suddenly hit a complete blank and panic. She said this is called a “brain stutter” and occasionally this still happens to me now. But I have learnt to take a moment to think of something else until I am settled enough to return to the previous task. I have forgotten things. But I don’t know what things I have forgotten until I am presented with a person that I should know or story that I should remember, but don’t.

Learning to walk was the strangest feeling. I never knew how much thought and co-ordination goes into something so “easy”. I noticed how my concentration during such a seemingly simple task was affected so greatly by the environment. I became aware of how different walking is in a crowded space  versus an empty space; a well lit space versus a dim space; stairs versus the ground, ect. I eventually changed my mind-set so that instead of feeling frustration or upset when I was struggling or unable to do things, I would celebrate small victories. Victories such as eating without messing, going to the bathroom on my own, putting on my slippers by myself, using a zip or fastening a button and picking things up with my left hand. These are small achievable goals that kept me positive and motivated me to recover.

The aknowledgement of this tumour and the aftermath of the surgery changed me. I became aware of this foreign body within my brain and its presence became defining. In order for me to move on in life I had to accept and normalise its existence. No one has the intention of making someone diagnosed with a tumour feel like a pariah, but it tends to happen with the sensitivity of a life altering diagnoses. The fact that I was someone with a brain tumour surrounded by people who do not have one; or that I am someone who has had multiple brain surgeries, automatically makes me feel like an outsider.

Audre Lorde in her Cancer Journals said “either I could love my body one breasted now, or remain forever alien to myself”. This statement hits hard. Coming to terms with your own identity is no easy task especially when it is something life altering; I had been through this process once before with my sexuality. And so I decided that I needed to accept myself with a tumor and as a brain surgery survivor, or be alien to myself once more.

These internal struggles continue – even now - unbeknownst to those around me. My thinking is definitely slower than before and it takes me longer to process and respond to things – sometimes this can be overwhelming, even if I am the only one aware of it. This is where insecurity comes in to play; at times I wonder if I am being perceived as “normal” in social situations. This then makes me feel like I should explain to to strangers that I am still recovering so that my behavior can be understood. I don’t know then if people are looking at me with curiosity, concern or confusion. Sometimes I feel strong in what I have overcome, and at times I feel so alone in my experience. I learnt to go easy on myself, and take things slow.  My happiness comes from being myself in comfortable spaces; a renaissance that is truly liberating. I say renaissance because there is a clear distinction of myself and life before and after the surgery. Things feel different. Things are different. There is no way to tell if what I feel/ felt was normal. But my new normal involves an inner peace that does not take life for granted.

I didn’t know that It would take this long. I didn’t know that I would have such difficulty placing my own personality. I didn’t know that I would feel so foreign in my own body, so much so that I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors or photographs. I wasn’t okay with being this person. That I would put on so much weight from the medication and the lack of mobility. Or that I would be so fearful of old symptoms returning and that I would feel a sense of guilt for surviving something that so many others didn’t.

The surgery is physically over, but mentally, I am still processing everything that had happened. I could go on but instead I will say that I am thankful my surgery went so well and that I was where I needed to be at that time. Now I am able to adjust to new strategies and am dealing with these overwhelming feelings in healthy ways.

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20.09.2019 - Today I write this 10 months after my second craniotomy under completely different circumstances. I have experienced this recovery at a different stage of my life, I am older, wiser and more motivated; facing a new perspective on the human experience. Learning from everyone around me as I know that everyone has a story and everyone is a lesson, offering a unique perspective on the chaos of humanity. My second diagnosis and surgery did make me wonder what lessons I still needed to learn. I was angered. Then depressed. Wasn’t one surgery enough? Then I surrendered. Truth be told, there has been a lot to learn... and there’s still so much more! The most valuable lessons about my body, health, consciousness, community and purpose came from the aftermath of the second surgery.  I suppose at some point, you need to decide whether you are going to be a victim or if you are going to use the resources you have access to in order to deal with the situation you are faced with.

Although living in the past can hinder your ability to move forward/overcome. Looking back and consciously reflecting on how far you have progressed through a certain phase in your life is rewarding. I often do that of course when I think about my progress from my first surgery until now. But do not stay there too long. Do not allow your past experiences to define you. Allow them to inform your future and motivate more progression. I am also acknowledging the importance of bridging the gaps between geography and lifestyles as the older you get, the more you realise you need the people from your past. I have been pleasantly suprised by the teachers, friends, classmates, mentors and family members that have laid branches and connections to me in the most unexpected ways and places. I reflect on these relationships and acknowledge their contributions with gratitude.

I came across a quote by Tony Robbins that said: “it is not the events of our lives that shape us and who we are, but rather our beliefs as to what those events mean.” And those beliefs are determined by the way in which we tell our story. The meaning we attach to the events—how we interpret them— is what shapes who we are today and who we’ll become tomorrow. And I am now actively telling a better story in this chapter of my life by creating the reality I experience rather than passively becoming my default self. Now knowing that things happen FOR you, and not TO you has been game changing for me. And since curating the world I immerse myself in - deciding which communities I am a part of, deciding what motivates me and why, choosing to only invest my energy into things that will contribute to achieving my goals - I have recognised the power in my sense of self.

This is a new sense of self whereby the changes and transformations I am making on the other side of this trauma have presented an opportunity to identify and build a new structure and way of living. This change has at times been uncomfortable - but as Nerri Oxman said in ‘Abstract Art of Design (Season 2 episode 2), “If it feels uncomfortable, you’re probably doing something right.” This process of change has also brought along with it responsibility, which I now understand as the ability to respond to circumstances. I am in control of my responses and no longer a victim of my diagnosis or as a patient, providing a reorientation around healthcare and healing. Now knowing that ‘Doctor’ means ‘Teacher’ (and not healer) and that movement and food is the best medicine, I can asses that medication, doctor visits and language were not the best ways for me to recover, but rather movement, community and nourishment has allowed me to surpass previous mis-understandings of what my healthy self should be, look and feel like. For me, the courageous part of it all has been turning towards the self, orienting the symptoms - how I feel and what could have caused the tumor to manifest - and making the necessary changes. Everyday I see how I have progressed in different facets of my life, I can’t help pass judgement on myself but i am aware that it is an endless process. 

This has cultivated a new kind of strength coming from a different place of mature consciousness - one that has developed from healthy habits, consistency and daily practices. 

And so the journey continues...