#extremely tired and depressed the last couple days for absolutely no known reason

[dracolizardlars]

I don't wanna do the washing upppppppppp

I don't wanna driiiiive all the way to the hospitaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

-

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

-

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

-

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

[calleo-bricriu]

"Why are you like this?"

(( I’d apologise for him, @absintheabsence but we both know that’d be an entire lie. A continuation of 1986. ))

Grindelwald had asked him that question more than once in the past few weeks, and it hadn't escaped Calleo that he'd asked the same thing a good forty-ish years ago as it was difficult not to. Half the time, the things Grindelwald had said or done, even with explanation, were things Calleo hadn't been able to ever fully wrap his head around.

Then again, wrapping one's head around someone else's madness is often difficult.

This time, he decided to answer what held a good chance of being a rhetorical question.

"Do you have any idea," Calleo briefly glanced up from a stack of papers he'd been going through, if only to gauge the general mood of the room, "when the last time I had any time at all away from work was?"

"1945. Early May," back to the papers, "and even now, I'm still working. It's impossible to get away from it entirely; I'm not sure what I'd do if I could at this point. Director Yandle retired, you know." The topmost piece of paper was signed and disappeared.

"Not dead retired, retired retired. 1976, about the time Voldemort was finally starting to be taken seriously as some sort of threat. Said he didn't want to deal with that sort of thing again and I ended up with his job." The way he was talking sounded more like a narration than a conversation in which another person was involved, likely on account of Calleo's main focus being clearly on the stack of papers he was still looking at. "Out of the three he hired to replace the three of yours he sacked, two of them fucked right off when told it would be their only opportunity to do so if they were leaning that way. Pity, really; if they'd stuck around a bit longer they might have realised--"

Dry laughter stopped him momentarily, even if it was more than a little inappropriate. "I told them if I found out they were, they'd find out how much worse I could be, which they took to mean they were free to leave unharmed; I forwarded their information up to Crouch who, I might add, ended up being demoted to a useless paper pushing job after that war for how over the top vicious he was in his belated response to Voldemort. A lot of executions and life terms in Azkaban without trials or with trials but without any evidence."

"So, that takes up a lot of time, all the overhead of running even a small department and doing the job I was doing prior because I'm not inclined to get the three I have now killed by handing it off entirely." Three more papers disappeared. "After that was over--it wasn't."

"I don't know how much you've heard over the past few decades, but there were a handful of things about Voldemort's death that didn't seem to alarm anyone, really; well," for the moment, Calleo did stop working on whatever he was working on and looked up, "not anyone who should have been alarmed--no, no, that's not accurate either. Nobody in a position that should have been alarmed was alarmed."

"I was alarmed; they never found a body, and that kid had the cast pattern of a killing curse burned onto his face. That's not supposed to happen. There are very, very few ways that could happen, even if it had backfired, it should have burned HIM, not his target. Anyway, it was less of a backfire and more of a 'Despite the high probability that I've done some extremely detailed and high level blood magic to make sure it's incredibly difficult to actually kill me, I never learned the basics and didn't even consider the possibility of protective blood magic stopping me from killing a child in front of his mother' sort of thing most likely."

He smiled brightly, "But, really, who would listen to the Librarian of Obscure and Terrible Things? Why would you even bother to ask someone like that if they might have some sort of idea there when it's so much easier to go with 'well, he's clearly dead because there were four people in the house and only three bodies, living or otherwise, nothing strange here.'" Whether he was being sarcastic or not wasn't immediately clear.

"Albus Dumbledore (( @everyheartbesure is 100% not allowed to lecture Calleo on his choice of vacation spots. :) )) noticed though, and I know he noticed because he wrote me in the immediate aftermath all but asking me to tell him he was being irrational and a bit insane for thinking that Voldemort wasn't merely or most sincerely dead,” Any seriousness or weight what he’d said to that point might have carried was dampened by the fact that he sung that last bit of phrasing, “which I couldn't do on account of what I said just prior to--" Calleo stopped and blinked at nothing a few times before laughing, "You know, I don't think I ever mentioned that we've been friends since about 1930! First and only person in my entire career to write me telling me he'd read some of my papers and followed that up with Transfiguration and not Dark Arts! You have no idea how tired I was and still am of people only ever having read THOSE papers and never the much less horrible, much more interesting ones I've done on Transfiguration!"

"At any rate, it was an invitation to collaborate on research if I wanted to. Which I did, obviously, and it turned out we got along exceptionally well! Well enough that Fawkes was trying and succeeding to preen my hair within thirty seconds of meeting him as well. Still does, which is odd, most animals avoid me," Calleo shrugged and part of his attention drifted back to the dwindling stack of papers in his lap, "Anyway, he wrote me about it primarily because he's always known where I work and what my work's primary focus has been, it'd just never really been a topic of discussion because it wasn't of interest to him and I don't care to push that sort of thing on people; he's still managed to never even look into the things I'm more well known for writing and by that point I'd asked him not to, at least, not while I wasn't around for a whole hell of a lot of reasons, chief of which being that it's all rather horrible and I would absolutely feel the need to explain myself through every terrible thing I've had published."

"But, the point is, he knew it was my area of expertise and the likely reality was--because of that expertise--likely a lot worse than he'd imagined, and he's not really wrong, I'm just so desensitised to it that it hardly registers as anything other than textbook knowledge half the time which meant it wasn't all that difficult to convince him to let me handle that side of the whole mess."

Another couple papers disappeared, "And it is a mess, make no mistake about that; the Ministry is adamant Voldemort is dead and any mention of the contrary all but gets a coordinated campaign of discreditation started against whoever won't toe the line. Unfortunately for them, the general view is that anyone working in the Archives is already a little bit to moderately mad, so it has no effect on me and I know a lot of people who either owe me a whole hell of a lot of favours or who have a vested interest in not letting another slightly genocidal Dark Lord get a foothold in continental Europe again. Goblins, mostly," Calleo grinned at his papers, "you didn't get them all, you know, I had three left by the end and only rebuilt from there. I still work just as closely with Lagraff, Koggot, and Aldig and they'd already started before Albus asked when I could GET started!"

"But, the most interesting thing I'd caught was while Voldemort was still counted among the living: The scraps of your little empire, the ones who hadn't been locked away for life or executed, they initially watched Voldemort with mild interest that quickly turned to open, hostile disdain as he kept flailing against an already ineffective, disorganised, panicked government and made no substantial public or political progress while trying to sell himself as something--better--to them. An odd number of them also hold positions in various governments and have either worked with me for years now which is, in some cases, exactly as awkward for them as you might imagine, or owe me a substantial number of favours or debt."

"And this?" Calleo twirled a finger at the ceiling of the dreary, depressing, and rather dim tower cell, "This is the closest thing to a holiday I've had in over forty years, and even then, even you have to have noticed that I routinely have to hop outside that window and away from the magic smothering nonsense of this building because if I'm muted or 'fuzzy' for too long, too many people notice and get a tiny bit alarmed."

"That's why I'm 'like this'! I haven't had a day off in forty six years and the last time I had any time away from work it was STILL up a tower locked in a room with you! Now that I think about it, every single time I've been away from the Ministry for any extended period of time, it's always ended with me somehow being stuck somewhere with you! You're the human equivalent of one of these things!" Calleo dug around in his pockets while he wrapped up that minor rant and pulled out--something--that was whipped across the room, aimed directly for Grindelwald's forehead.

It was--sticky and soft and a thin thread of it led back to Calleo's hand. The end that wound up on the side of the cell Grindelwald was on looked a bit gummy and a lot hand shaped.

[ziracona]

😮 Oh man, with the insight on Frank, it has me so curious. What's going on in the heads of everyone in the Legion lately? I'm especially curious about Joey, after the quality time spent with the survivors (well, in the back seat with Susie driving) during "She's Like the Wind". Or, if you're tired of the Legion, what about Michael in "The Tower"?

I’m totally happy to do the Legion (and I actually wrote up a bunch of stuff on them before deciding p best to wait), but there’s a lot of Legion stuff in the chapter I’m posting in the next couple days with some sort of big status-quo changes, so I feel like I should wait until after that to give Legion updates, or it could be kind of a waste, so I’ll do Michael.

Oh boy Mikey. Let me see. Buckle up, because this is a long one. So, let me start by saying in this fic, the way I write him is based on the canon portrayal in the first film (and some influence from the others—especially 2 and H20), but with my honest best attempt at an accurate psychological take on his situation. Horror’s a great genre, but it does a really shitty job about using mental illness as some kind of blanket excuse for being evil. John Carpenter literally came up with Michael after seeing some 12 year old schizophrenic kid in a mental institution when he was on a field trip that he thought had really dead, evil looking eyes, like he didn’t have a soul. Which is a pretty fucked up way to treat mental illness. And, since there’s no reason I should accept ‘He’s got psychosis and the devil’s eyes and has nothing in him but evil” as an accurate take on an actual human being, I’m not. I’m taking what is canon, and interpreting it (to the best of my ability) like a normal psychologist or person who isn’t Dr. Sam Loomis would. Usually I wouldn’t give as much on a character psych take (because I really, really like seeing how people interpret things), but it’s kind of specifically important for Michael and me doing my best to write him responsibly that while he’s a lot of things, and a lot of them bad, he’s not a mindless wall of walking evil.

Canonically, Michael’s had psychosis since he was at least five, and heard voices that told him to do bad things, like hurt people. He told his parents, in an attempt to get help, and was ignored. When he was six, he did what the voices told him to in an attempt to get them to stop, and killed his sister (without looking at what he was doing while he did it as much as he could [canon]), and then went downstairs to wait for his parents to get home (probably in the hopes that they could fix it, because he was six years old, and when you’re six, your parents can fix everything). Instead of anything getting better, he got sent to court, sentenced (to be tried for murder as an adult in fifteen years when he turned 21, which is absolute bullshit because by no stretch of human logic can a 6 year old child have committed a crime as an adult), and then left in an asylum for the next fifteen years of his life. His psychosis worsened, and he gained other symptoms, such as mutism and catatonia. His mom only visited a few times, with his little sister, and then she vanished off the face of the planet from his point of view. Completely abandoned by his family and everyone he knew, the only human contact he had from ages 6-21 was Doctor Sam Loomis, his psychiatrist, who had decided within a couple of months, that Michael was the human personification of evil, faking his mental illness like the evil genius six year old he was, and a demon in human form hellbent on murder. Now, the human brain doesn’t stop developing until the mid 20s, and it sure as hell isn’t done when you’re six. Kids that age don’t even really have a fully developed understanding of mortality and only a basic grasp on ethics. Emotional empathy doesn’t start really forming well until age seven, and abstract reasoning isn’t until preteen years. When you’re six, you’re not old enough to be evil. You just aren’t. But, if you grow up from age 6-21 with only one constant in your life, isolated in a tiny white room, hearing over and over from said only constant, an adult and the source of authority in your life, that you are evil, and soulless, and you are a killer waiting to kill again, you are dying to get out and commit murder, and they’re onto you, how exactly can you expect a human being to turn out?Especially when they’re already dealing with violent psychosis. You’ve basically convinced a mentally ill child that they are the bad voices in their head, not the person, and their goal in life is to commit lots of murder.

Michael’s personal goal, as much as he has one left, has pretty much solidly always been to do what the voices want so they’ll stop and he can be at peace. What they want is for him to kill his family, meaning his sister, Laurie. Kill Laurie, be at peace. That being the case, ending up in the Entity’s realm is about as shitty for him as it is for her, because no matter how many goddamn times he kills her, he can never, ever kill her for real, so he will never be able to stop the voices. He’s about as tired of being here as she is, which is saying a lot. But it’s been forty years of shit for him too.

I think Michael forgot he was a person a long time ago, because nobody’s treated him like one since he was baby. Since he was six. If you treat someone like a monster their whole life, that’s what they’re almost certainly going to become. In the Entity’s realm, it hasn’t really been any different. I don’t think he thinks about things very complexly, because he’s sort of too tired to, and he doesn’t have a real reason. He never learned a lot of normal human behaviors, including any attempt at even the most basic social contact. It’s like that really depressing scene in Lilo & Stitch when Jumba’s commenting on what it must be like to have nothing, even memories, to visit at night. He has memories, but they’re basically all the same—white room, fifteen years of Dr. Loomis. None of that’s a real human experience. Dr. Loomis didn’t even think he was a human—called him “It” instead of “Him.”

With Laurie suddenly acknowledging he’s her brother, it’s weird to him. Canonically, every time someone in a film reminds Michael he’s related to them, it’s like he gets smacked in the face (it’s actually kind of hilarious. He even takes his mask off for his niece in 5 when she calls him “Uncle”). A family member doing this always metaphorically suckerpunches him with the reminder that he has a name and an existence outside of killing people and there are human beings who know who he is and are related to him and have a lasting concept of him as a person. It’s not like he ever forgot they were siblings, but he didn’t remember to think about it. He spends all his time being the Shape, because Michael hasn’t really existed since he was six years old (not in a Dissociative Identity Disorder way, just, it’s an aspect of who he is that no one has been willing to acknowledge since he was a baby. He puts on the mask and kills because that’s what he’s supposed to be. It doesn’t really matter if he wants to, or if he likes it, or even if he still doesn’t have a completely developed concept of mortality, because he’s known for years now that it’s just what he does. It’s what he is). I don’t think he really knows how to think or feel (which he’s not used to doing period) about his sister or about that and being spoken to. He was definitely relieved at the prospect of having a way out of this, and since then it’s been kind of agonizing that she reneged on him and won’t commit joint suicide, but she’s also just been…weird. Been different. She talks to him like a person, which no one has ever done, and he does remember her from when they were little. I think it’s very confusing. He really doesn’t have the normal human skillset to be able to emotionally understand this. Which doesn’t mean he’s some emotionless zombie, just, he didn’t learn how to properly interpret or respond to things. He doesn’t have a normal human emotional or social skillset, because he never got to develop one. He didn’t get the chance. He hasn’t had a positive physical interaction, a hug, a handhold, a pat on the shoulder, since he was six--he hasn’t had any kind of social contact outside of the hostile psychological hatred and threats from Dr. Loomis period. There’s just not a normal set of human understand-the-world mental structures developed in him at all. Instead he’s got like…just all this shit—this really fucked up way of understanding the world built from fifteen years in isolation with just Dr. Loomis that’s completely separate from a normal human experience or mental scape, and the mental set of tools he would use to try to understand his sister is like, the dusty old normal human set that stopped growing when he was six years old that he kind of forgot about.

Michael’s also never done anything he wasn’t supposed to in the Entity’s realm, and I don’t think this has been explicitly stated in the fic, but he’s been punished now, for trying to break the rules with Laurie these past few trials. I don’t think he knew how to handle that or feel about it or think about it either, because it was a new experience for him. It’s very hard to hurt him at all, and it’s never happened with the Entity before this.

During The Tower, Michael wanted what he’s wanted since it was on the table (a way out by killing her), and when she said she couldn’t do it yet, genuinely misinterpreted that as her meaning she had to help the others finish the trial first. I don’t think he entirely understood why she kept running away from him, but he’s used to that kind of behavior, so it wasn’t that strange. What was extremely weird to him was getting jumped by two kids (when usually survivors wouldn’t touch him with a fifty-foot pole if it was up to them), who proceeded to tell him be was being a really crappy brother and should be nicer. It was. Surreal. I think when Laurie showed up and told him she hadn’t meant ‘in twelve minutes’ when she said later, he didn’t just attack her because he was mad she didn’t want to do suicide yet, I think it also kind of hurt his feelings that she made fun of him when he genuinely was trying to understand and thought she meant something else. Since what he wanted was off the table, he was upset (which was especially volatile becaus he doesn’t often experience hugely strong emotions) and on instinct just did what has been programmed to come naturally instead and went fucking lethal on them all, but got a surprising amount of resistance.

When she came back to fight him alone, I don’t think he completely understood everything she said, but he got a lot of it, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like losing the chance to get out of the realm for good with her, but I think he also didn’t really like being basically told that he was dead to her from here on out. I don’t think he’d exactly think of it that way, or put it into words—I don’t think he’d had long enough or the emotional growth enough to appreciate her caring about him, or to want it, but at the same time, he’d had someone treat him like a person for the first time in fifty some years, and I think it was probably briefly nice to be called by his own name and talked to like a person—I think it would be hard for that not to mean a little bit, even if you didn’t understand way. And then he had it reaffirmed by her before their fight that what Dr. Loomis had always said was true, and he’d fucked up so bad with her that he wasn’t ‘Michael’ anymore to her either, and even if he wouldn’t really think of it like that, I think subconsciously, that kind of had to hurt. 

At the end of their fight, when he was out on the floor, and Laurie didn’t kill him, while he was genuinely unconscious for some of that, he was awake for some of it too—the bulk of it, actually. Michael in film canon routinely not only has genuine resets where he passes out and heals and gets back up, but plays dead as well, to protect himself. So, he did hear a decent chunk of what Laurie said to him. She kind of poured her heart out, and some of it was pretty complicated stuff, and a lot of it was stuff he doesn’t really have the emotional complexity developed to understand right now, but he understood some of it. I don’t think he expected things to end like they did (and not just him getting his ass kicked by her). She basically flipped on him, and said she was wrong, and even like this he was still her brother, and because she remembers how he was when he was six she can’t make herself not love him, even if she knows she shouldn’t, and that she wasn’t going to kill him like that, even if it meant he was going to come after her again and kill her. I don’t think he gets why she would say those things, but it did make him want to know, and I think he’s aware that it should mean something to him, regardless of if it does or not on an emotional level, and it is at least something that interests him. Probably his most intact human emotion is curiosity (and it’s no wonder—he’s basically never seen anything, or been anywhere, or done anything—he’s barely gotten a chance to live, period. Any social interaction where someone isn’t running from him screaming or threatening him and telling him he’s a monster is uncharted territory). What that would mean for him going forward as far as Laurie is concerned is very complicated, though. Laurie interests him and there are things he wants to understand, but he’s just got so little ability to function like a normal human being. So much of him is so awfully mangled and maladapted, and the rest has been stagnating since he was 6 and he’s so very, completely, depressingly isolated. He’s a serial killer, but he’s really also kind of a tragic character. It’s fucked up what happened to him, and most of it isn’t really his fault. It didn’t have to be like that.

[the-untitled-writing-project]

The Untitled Writing Project

By: just-another-anonymous-author

I have spent my entire simple - albeit short - existence on this planet searching everywhere for something - a feeling or some kind of meaning, I guess. But, this isn't one of those narratives that will end with a lesson or some assessment of morality or some larger social impact; this is just a story. 

When I was born, it was because it was the logical next step for my parents. I won’t spend a lot of time on my parents because they were just doing what they thought they should, but it is necessary. My parents were in love once, I think, but by the time I can remember their relationship, that was all gone. My dad was basically a piece of shit. He was abusive and mean and left with my brother and me when I was eight - can you say kidnapping? - but he had some semi-redeemable qualities, I guess, and he’s my dad so I loved him. Only now, looking back, do I understand how truly toxic that man was in my life. But this isn’t about me now, so let’s not get too distracted by that. 

My freshman year of high school, I stopped speaking to my father. He couldn’t support me unless everything was going his way - much like a toddler - and he made his disgust known. He didn’t like the high school I was going to or the people I was spending time with or the fact I wanted to be a writer - in fact, he constantly told me that I was just going to be mediocre like him, so I should stop trying so hard -  and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I hung up the phone on him and haven’t spoken to him since. After one conversation with a judge in chambers, he lost any claim to custody of my brother and me. But I am getting a little ahead of myself. See, my dad’s constant emotional abuse made me anxious and depressed in a very real way. It was hard for me to function in any capacity. My reality was harsh and I would do anything to remedy that fact. 

[Enter a boy.]

When I met him, I was immediately taken. Compulsively searching for any meaning in life, I was a heat-seeking missile looking for something, anything to give me a reason to wake up in the morning.

When I saw him, four things happened almost simultaneously:

My heart skipped a beat - or maybe a few.

My stomach tied itself in so many knots it felt like a necklace chain you would eventually just give up on.

My hands started to shake - though that may have been the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day.

My mouth dried up like the Sahara Desert on the hottest day of the year.

The very moment my eyes landed on him my mind shut down, my body seized up, my life was shifted permanently. I had never felt anything like it before. It was like the most beautiful sunrise, the smell right before it rains, watching hundreds of birds take flight, the perfect sip of tea, a quiet Sunday morning in a cafe. Everything just felt complete. 

The first time we spoke it was like I had known him my entire life. I felt comfortable, I felt safe, I felt like I was home. I suppose that sounds like a cliche, but I am just trying to be as honest as I can. I guess that feeling of comfort and safety is why when he left I felt like I was on fire and drowning and being buried alive all at once. But, we aren’t there yet, so I’ll start at the beginning, yeah?

When I met him, we instantly clicked. I knew in my heart and soul - my mind isn’t really involved in the beginning - that we were going to fall in love. I never could have predicted how fast and hard we would fall for each other. We were like a meteor plummeting to the Earth and wiping out a small island. Our love was powerful. Our love was overwhelming. And, overall, our love was destructive.

The first time we kissed it was like something out of a fairytale or a romance novel or a Lifetime movie. It was sweet, slow, and beautiful. We were just teenagers - young and dumb and naive. We were at a park. It was dark and you could see all of the stars. It felt like there was no one else in the universe - it was just the two of us floating on a cloud way above the ground - and we were pointing out constellations in the sky. It was getting late. He got up from the dew-covered grass and as he offered his hand to help me up, he tripped and caught himself over me. We looked at each other for a second. Then it happened. He leaned in, kissed me, and my entire world exploded. I felt like there was electricity coursing through my veins; like I had just witnessed the Big Bang; like nothing could ever hurt me ever again. Our kiss was short but absolutely and utterly perfect.

We became inseparable. Where I was, he was. Where he was, I was. It was that typical “young love”, I guess. He became a part of me. I hate to admit that looking back, but it is true. There was a room in my heart with his name written all over the walls. It was like I let a toddler loose with a box of Crayola markers and they wrote the only word they knew over and over and over again until they ran out of ink. It may be dramatic, but that’s how it felt to my young heart. 

We instantly became dependent on each other. See, we are both very good at reading people and could tell when the other was upset. When I was anxious, he knew how to calm me down. When he was angry, I could help him reasonably solve the problem. When I was having full-blown panic attacks, he would hold me, soothe me, and remind me that I needed to breathe to live. He could calm even the harshest of storms in my mind. The problem with that is we eventually got tired of solving each other's problems and wanted to focus on our own. 

[Enter a wedge in our relationship.] 

Beyond this, however, we still had a great time together and a great amount of love for each other. 

The first time we had sex it was terrible. Honestly, we both had no idea what we were doing. We were fumbling and just doing our best. It was not good, but I still look back on it fondly. It was two teenagers figuring each other out, doing what we thought we should, using all of our public school education to appease our crazy hormones. 

Speaking of hormones - bad transition, I know, but this is train of thought writing, so I can do what I want - the first time we fought it was like my entire world was crumbling around me. We are two of the most stubborn people that exist - I am sure of this fact and there is no debating this - so every fight, no matter how small, felt like the absolute and utter destruction of all of humanity. We would scream, I would cry, he would storm off, we would make up. No matter what we fought about - how to spell a word, not answering texts, hanging out with an ex, whether it was Johns Hopkins or John Hopkins - we gave it our all and ended up fuming. The great Johns Hopkins debate of 2015 made me feel like my brain was on fire and I had smoke coming out of my ears. Even when it was stupid or pointless, we both had to be right. See, the thing is that we loved each other, but we were young and reckless and thought it would last forever. 

The first time I wrote him a love letter I felt I had finally found my muse - ironic, isn’t it, seeing as I am writing about him here, once again. We wrote each other letters back and forth for months. I would type out everything I felt about him, I would type out apologies, I would type how much I loved him over and over. He wrote me a handwritten love letter once. I folded it up and kept in my wallet from that moment on. Whenever I doubted myself, whenever I missed him, whenever I felt especially bad, I would read his letter over and over again. He wrote everything I had never felt about myself - that I was brave, that I was beautiful, that I was smart, that I was going places.

After a million different instances of supporting me through my severance from my father, he showed up to the Court House on the day my father lost any claim to his children. See, he knew we would be there and he knew I was going to be having a very bad day. He came to make sure I was okay, he took my mother, brother, and me to lunch. He hugged me, he kissed my head, he reassured me that what I was doing was right and necessary for my mental health and future successes. The thing is that at this point we were very dependent on each other in an extremely unhealthy way. Neither of us had much of a childhood, let alone an easy one, so it was two teenaged “adults” trying to make sense of trauma we should never have had to experience in the first place. 

The first time we spent a week apart since we started dating was torture. It was shortly after a successful, but literally physically painful and stressful court date. At this point, we were fighting like a married couple and our relationship was mainly texts and FaceTiming late at night. As two very jealous people - we’re both water signs, if you follow astrology you’ll understand - we were not doing well with a slowly separating relationship. I was thrilled to get back from my trip and spend time with him and work on us. He had other ideas.

The first time we broke up it was like nothing would ever matter again. You see, I feel everything so deeply and when we broke up I went numb. He came back the next day and said he regretted it, he didn’t want to lose me, he wanted to pretend it never happened. I agreed, but something was different. Suddenly, the sun rises were duller, the smell of rain wasn’t as crisp, there were only a few birds taking flight, the tea was lukewarm and bland, the cafe was packed and the coffee was burnt. He told me he still had things to think about. He told me he didn’t want to break up but didn’t know if we would be together long term. He told me he just wanted to love me. I told him I wouldn’t wait around for him to make a decision and to take me home. That was the second time we broke up.

The second time we broke up I cried for three days. My mother had never seen me so upset about anything - and trust me I had experienced plenty of hardship before this relationship. The second time we broke up I didn’t get out of bed for a week. After three days of crying, my mother called him. She didn’t know what else to do. She knew we broke up, but she thought he could help me. She knew he was the only person who could. He came over and came into my room. He tried to coax me out of bed with the promise of seeing a movie and going to dinner. I told him to go away and that I didn’t want him to come back. I heard him get up off of my floor. I heard him open the door. I heard him hesitate. I heard him leave. 

The first time I ever truly felt nothing was terrifying in hindsight. After he left my house, I stopped crying. I got out of bed, I showered, I got dressed. I sat in the middle of the room with my arms wrapped around my knees, my chin on one kneecap, and I stared at the walls of my bedroom for hours.  It was like my heart was sealing up the room with his name all over it. My muscles ached as if I had just been stretched on a taffy puller. My head was pounding like a smurf was banging on the inside of my skull with a hammer. My bones ached as if all of the bone marrow had been extracted with a rusty scalpel. My world truly felt like it stopped turning. 

The first time I deleted all of the pictures of the two of us off of my phone it was like burning a part of myself alive in a bonfire. I stared at every picture for what felt like hours before finally hitting that tiny trash can. I guess I thought I could rid my heart of him by deleting him off my phone. When I finally had to change my background, I didn’t know what to change it to. What did I love more than this ridiculous, stubborn, idiot of a boy? Nothing. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to see more on that screen than his face. So, I changed it to a blank black background. 

The first time I saw him after I went numb, it was like we had never met. I felt nothing - no emptiness, no pain, no anger. I was just numb. He acted as if nothing had happened. He talked to me like we were best friends. I deserve an Oscar for acting like I was okay with that. I would laugh at his jokes, I would go with him to the movies, I would sing along to the radio with him. I acted like it wasn’t killing me to sit in his car without holding his hand; like it wasn’t weird to go from strangers to in love to just regular friends so rapidly; like I was okay with existing beside him, yet without him. 

The first time he broke my heart I thought nothing could ever hurt worse than that moment. My entire body was on fire, but after I went numb, I thought I might never feel again. Then, he broke my heart again. He moved on from me like I was nothing, just a short story in his chapter book. He told me he was dating someone new over a cold, short text message. I wasn’t surprised, but I also wasn’t ready. I mean how can someone move on so fast and expect everything to be fine? I honestly felt like I deserved it. I felt I deserved no respect at all. The thing is I was not a secure person at all - I saw all of my flaws and knew one day they would lead to our demise. I wasn’t shy to this fact, so when we broke up and he moved on so fast, I blamed myself and sunk into a sea of bitterness like a boat in a hurricane.

The first - and only - time I returned all of the things he ever gave me I did it in a blind rage. After he told me he was dating someone new, I went home, I found every single thing I owned that reminded me of him. I found books, stuffed animals, cards, handwritten love letters, jewelry, pictures, blankets, t-shirts. I stuffed them all in a bag with tears streaming down my cheeks. My mother called my best friend as she heard things crashing around my room. As soon as they came over, I broke down. The wall of numbness I had built around my heart came crumbling down - evaporated into a cloud of smoke. I cried, I packed, they tried to talk me out of it. I guess what they said was right… I shouldn’t have done it like that. I was hurt, angry, defeated, utterly crushed by what I felt was an act of betrayal. I simply was not ready to give him his stuff back, but I did. I dropped the bag of his stuff off at his house and left without saying a word. He called me heartbroken. I responded with the same coldness as his text. 

The first time another boy flirted with me it was like I had never met someone of the opposite sex before. I didn’t know what to do or say or how to stand. Have you ever seen those videos of giraffes attempting to walk directly after they’re born? They’re all shaky and awkward. I was like that any time I received male attention. See, the thing about him is that he is the jealous type. While we were dating, he constantly told me my male friends had crushes on me, that they wanted to date me, that they were gonna try something as soon as we were alone together. Though he was right about my best friend, it still made me cautious about any prolonged attention. 

The next time I answered his call his girlfriend was across the country. He wanted to hang out at his house. He wanted to talk and catch up. And, I was full of bitterness and anger and wanted the chance to tell him off. Instead, we had sex. Every inch of my body burned as I walked up to his door, but when I saw his face, I felt all of my emotions come rushing back. I left and locked myself in my bathroom, turned on the shower, and sobbed for an hour.

The first time I tried to move on was a tragedy. I met a lovely boy, the opposite of the one I had fallen so deeply in love with. He wasn’t well polished or reaching past the stars into another galaxy. He was just a regular boy who had long hair and big shirts and a guitar. He was a nice boy, a sweet boy, a boy who liked me. I reveled in the thought of finally moving on and being happy. I thought about being able to ignore an ex-boyfriend when he called or asked probing questions or came around being jealous and nosey. So, I flirted with a boy. A boy who liked me, but had never had a girlfriend. A boy who didn’t know everything about my past relationship or my family or any of my hardship. We texted constantly, hung out every day at school, and all of our friends encouraged us. The thing was… I couldn’t get my heart to tear down the last few walls with a name written all over them. My mind was constantly running. Will he be jealous? Will he be angry? He already moved on, why shouldn’t I?

The first time I went on a date with my nice boy we went to the zoo. It was nothing magical or truly extraordinary, just two kids getting to know one another. My nice boy didn’t tell me he liked me - he was shy - but he held the door and he told me jokes and he made me a playlist of his favorite songs. My nice boy and I finally decided to date only each other, but after one month, I got a text. A request to come over and catch up. See, the thing is, I had a boyfriend and on the outside, it looked like I had moved on, but in reality, all I was doing was pretending. I still missed him. The way he laughed, the way he smelled, the way his dimples showed when he was genuinely happy. So, I went to his house. It was dumb. No one was there. He started asking about school, about my nice boy, about my mother. Then, he tried to kiss me. He said he missed me, he wanted to “hook up”. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it. I mean here is a boy I once loved - still loved - offering me a chance to be with him again. But, even though my entire body ached and my heart was in my throat, I told him no. I got up, grabbed my keys, and closed the front door behind me. 

The first time I almost cheated I sat in my car and cried for an hour. I beat myself up for days. My mind was screaming at my heart - Why would you go over there? Why would you think he would want anything else? Why did you set yourself up to fail? But, my mind also knew what I had to do… I had to break a heart. By this point, my nice boy had fallen in love with me - and told me so. I had to break up with him. I couldn’t look him in his eyes knowing I had briefly considered cheating on him. I am not that person, I was not that person, I would never cheat. But, for .05 seconds… I thought about it. 

The first time I broke a heart it destroyed me. I had to break up with my nice boy, but I couldn’t tell him why. I made up some excuse about college. It was one thing to break up with him, but I couldn’t - I just couldn’t - tell him what happened. After we broke up, I was truly and deeply upset, but my nice boy couldn’t even look at me. I felt so much guilt and shame that I avoided all of our friends as often as I could. No one could beat me up the way my mind could.

The first time I decided I couldn’t talk to him any more my heart cracked right down the middle. I knew - was absolutely certain - that we just couldn’t be friends anymore. I mean, how can I move on if he’s calling and texting and sending me funny pictures on Facebook? How could I let him ask me to cheat on someone I truly cared about? How could he even ask me to do that after how jealous he was during our relationship? How could he disregard my feelings so quickly? Was I simply someone to have sex with to him? So, as I dreaded each push of a button, I unadded him on social media, I deleted his contact - though I still had his phone number memorized - and I exhaled the weight of the last two and a half years. 

After cutting off a majority of our contact, he noticed. Of course he noticed, and he was annnnggggrrrryyyyyyy. How could I act like we weren’t friends? He asked. How could I try to cut him off? I told him I needed time, that I couldn’t see him, that I couldn’t read about his new girlfriend or his college experiences. He didn’t understand. He thought that I loved him and we had decided to be friends. Eventually, I stopped taking his calls. 

The next time we actually spoke was two years later. He came home from school and wanted to talk. He told me to meet him at “our” spot - the same spot where we shared our first kiss, where we snuck away to when the world started to close in, where I fell in love with him. I was in the thick of healing and was looking forward to my future, but his voice had a sense of urgency and something in me told me I had to go. So, I went. We sat for hours and caught up, talked and laughed like we used to before anything went wrong.

The first time he apologized to me was genuine and raw. He told me he was sorry for how he mistreated me, how he was looking for something else, how he took advantage of me. I told him I had moved on and accepted his apology, but that it wasn’t okay. I told him that if I found out he was treating someone else like that I’d kill him myself. We talked for two more hours. The more we talked, the more I felt that crack deep in my heart start to truly heal. I was finally making progress. 

The last time I wrote him a love letter was the night he apologized. It wasn’t your traditional love letter and I would never send it in a million years, but I thanked him for every single thing he ever did for me, including hurting me. I thanked him for showing me I didn’t need him to achieve my goals, I thanked him for making me see that I am brave and smart and beautiful, I thanked him for showing me that I was only moving on to get over him not because I was ready. I wrote to him that I loved him and that I couldn’t wait to see him succeed in everything he does. Then, I closed it without saving it. 

Over the past few years, we have met up, we’ve talked, we’ve been polite friends. It doesn’t sting as much as it used to because all of this feels like it happened lifetimes ago. Sometimes the little girl in me, the one who fell in love with him, wonders “What if?” What if you’d stayed together? What if you’d done things differently? What if you’d never met? But those thoughts aren’t helpful to me. 

See, the thing is, he has always been my muse. Even when I was hurt and writing hate poems, I was writing about him. The thing that was different about this last letter is that it felt like closure. I felt like I could finally close our chapter in my life story and just live for me - which, for the record, I am doing. 

So, why am I writing about this now? To be completely honest, I have no idea. It started as a therapeutic way to approach my emotions after all this time. I guess that is what happened. This is the first time I have ever been able to think about our entire relationship - the good, the bad, and the ugly. In the past, I was hyper-focused on my love for him or the things he did wrong, but I have never approached them at the same time before. I guess what I am trying to say is that our relationship was toxic and heavily codependent, but there were also good things. We did love each other, we did have good times, but we were also very bad for each other. 

During the past few years of reflecting with trusted and loved confidants, I have received a single question hundreds of times: “Would you ever go back to him?” My answer is always the same: We are not the same people, we have different dreams and different paths in life, paths which most likely will not cross in that way again. I’ve made progress, I’ve made peace, and I’d like to truly thrive on my own for a while. You can’t do that by living in your past. 

So, after I finish the next few lines, I am going to close this document and stop thinking about it for a while. Like I said before, there is no lesson or moral to this story, this is just my train of thought on a document no one will ever read. 

It’s cheaper than therapy, I suppose.

[thehollowprince]

Hey, it’s the “coding” anon here and honestly that answer to my question was excellent and the exact reason I come to your blog. I would absolutely love to hear you go on about the fetishization of m/m relationships!

This has been sitting in my inbox for over a week, and I want to apologize. I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this one, but I'm overworked at the moment. I've been pulling 60+ hour work weeks, by myself and I haven't had off since the first of December, so I'm a little tired. But I'm here and I'm ready to murder this bitch of a subject.

For starters, and for context, in case anyone who sees this doesn't follow my blog or, if you do and don't really pay attention, I am a gay man, so a lot of this comes from my own personal experience.

Now, onward my fandom soldiers.

M|M Fetishization & Objectification

I've only been super active within fandom spaces for the last couple of years. Before that, I just scrolled through Tumblr and reblogged gifsets and fluffy headcanons and whatnot, but even then I noticed a trend in fandoms that made me uncomfortable. That trend was the overabundance of gay men (chatacters) in fandom works, especially when there either weren't any gay men in that show or book or whatever.

I'm not at all saying we need less of that. I want and need more gay characters in the things I watch and read. That's actually one of the criteria I look for before I start a new show, or a book series or comics. I want to see myself represented in the media I consume, even if it is only this one tiny piece of who I am. But the problem for me arose when I saw all these fan works and headcanons and gifsets and thesis length metas about gay or bi male characters that were neither of those things in their original source material.

The biggest examples of this occured in fairly popular shows that I loved at one point, but do to a combination of bad writing and then the horrible fandom, drove me to actively dislike and avoid them. And that's always a sad thing, when you end up losing the love you had for something because others just won't let you enjoy it as it is.

Those two examples are Teen Wolf and Supernatural.

For years I watched people go on and on and on and on about Stiles Stilinski and Dean Winchester and how they were bisexual and so on and so forth.

There's nothing wrong with headcanoning a character as gay or bisexual, especially when those characters are severely lacking on screen and on paper. The problem arose when the fandom at large started to ignore the ACTUAL gay or bisexual characters that are in these shows and focus solely on their headcanons as the only representation in the show.

To start with Teen Wolf, we had, in the first season, an openly gay character that everybody in the school loved, that being Danny Mahealani. This character was introduced as gay from the very start, but oddly enough, there is almost no large fandom meta or fics or anything about him. In fact, a lot of his traits and qualities ended up transferred to Stiles, such as his intelligence and overall popularity. Hell, even Danny's attraction to Derek was stolen and transferred to him. These aren't things that Stiles is overall known for in the actual canon. He's clumsy and socially awkward and on the outskirts of the school like Scott (the main character) and has been obsessed (to the point of being considered a stalker) with one girl since elementary school, but somehow, in fandom, Stiles is suddenly the genius polyglot queer with severe depression who has a crush on the broody muscular werewolf who just wants somebody to love him.

Fandom created this portrayal of the character that didn't exist anywhere in the fandom except for his appearance. The reason I saw behind this was twofold. 1: fangirls (fandom is mostly female) want to see two "hot" guys kiss and get it on because they get off to it, much in the same way that straight men get off to lesbian porn. 2: Stiles (or any of these headcanoned characters) becomes a sort of self insert.

What I mean by that second one is that women and girls find a male character that's not "too masculine", usually kind of gangly or skinny, somewhat on the effeminate side. Someone that they can project their ideas and insecurities and so forth onto so that they can that pursue that relationship with the hunky manly man that they want to bang.

You may be asking yourself, "Why don't they just use one of the female characters as a self insert?" and I'm here to tell you that I have neither the time nor the experience to go into detail about internalized misogyny and how effects the way women do almost everything, even watching and interpreting their media.

But the reason they chose the male character is that, years ago, during the dark days of FF.net there was a lot of self insert OCs that infiltrated almost every level of fanfiction. Which caused the fandom gatekeepers to rear out of their hibernation and just shame anyone who tried to introduce an Original Character to this already beautiful world and ruin it with their lusts. Thus the OCs slowly disappeared and identifying with the male sidekick was born. And this is generally where we get the whole "my smol gay son!" bullshit. (side note: please keep in mind that 75% of shows are male characters and their problems, which is another cause for female fans to identify solely with men.)

So, for years, I watched Danny, and then his boyfriend Ethan, being shoved aside in fandom spaces so that the fans could focus Sterek (Stiles and Derek) despite the fact that both characters were stared to be heterosexual and that, on screen, they expressed nothing but mutual dislike for one another, if not outright hatred. This got so bad that Sterek, the crack ship whose members had no romantic or sexual interactions whatsoever, managed to beat (by a very large margin) actual gay ships from both this show and others in a fan poll. It got even worse when the character of Danny was written off the show (with no explanation) and we were introduced to the character of Mason.

Mason Hewitt was everything that fandom!Stiles was. He was smart and funny and openly gay and crushing on a hot werewolf. He even did the research that the fandom loved to attribute to Stiles, literally everything that the fandom had Stiles doing in fanon, but somehow the love for him (Mason) wasn't that big of a note in the fandom. I mean, Mason was even a major plot point of season five and the pack's mission to stop the Beast, but i heard nothing but cricket chirps from the fandom.

You'd think that after Stiles was written out of the show for the last season that maybe Mason will get some love now, right?

Wrong!

I didn't think it was possible to get any worse, but the fandom proved me wrong. Because instead of focusing all their pent up energy on Mason and his boyfriend, Corey, who had a number of cute moments in that final season, these fans focused on another crack ship that had no basis anywhere except in their fantasies. That ship being Thiam, which is based, once again, around two characters who actively dislike, if not outright hate, each other and even physically assault one another. But no, that apparently is a display of affection by someone who is emotionally stunted and just needs love to blossom and be his true self.

You notice how often the fetishization of homosexuality (even if only imagined) intersects with woobification?

You'll notice, if you look at Danny and Mason, that they're both POC, with Danny being brown (Hawai'ian) and Mason being black. Now, as I've said before on this blog multiple times, I am the Whittest White Man to ever White, so I don't have any qualifications to talk about fandom racism, so I'm just going to leave that little nugget there for you to think about and interpret how you will.

Moving on to Supernatural...

Before we start with this one, understand that I have not watched this show outside of an episode here and there since season eight, because I realized that no, this show wasn't going to get any better, so if any of this is contradictory to what has happened over the past six seasons (god, this show needs to die!) I do apologize.

Dean Winchester... I never really liked this character, especially as the show went on and I started to actively dislike and then, hate him. So it was annoying not being able to go into any aspect of the Supernatural fandom without coming across a post about Dean and his issues or his Bi sexiness or how his brother was mean to him.

Also, people, understand that this wasn't a new revelation for me. My dislike for Dean and the fandom's obsession with making him bisexual just so they could hook him up with Cas wasn't an overnight decision. I was there...

I was there at the Beginning, when this show first aired, when the ONLY constant characters on this show were Sam and Dean. I endured the hellfire that was Wincest and its infection of almost the entire fandom. Like, that right there, that was one of the most extreme cases of m|m fetishization I've ever seen, because the fandom needed to get off to two guys being together so badly that they turned to actual brothers for want of any other male character.

That's why Destiel immediately became so popular, because here was another guy that we saw with semi regularity that wasn't rated to the Winchesters, obviously they were meant to ship them.

Now, you may be asking yourself, "I thought this bitch was going to talk about gay fetishization, not his dislike for one character?" to which I'll just say I very easily go off tangent. But all of that is relevant because, come one of these later seasons, there was a scene where Dean was at a bar and the (male) bartender hit on him, and he didn't react negatively or homophobic.

Oh, my God, I watched my dash and the tags explode in post after post, meta after meta, about how Bi Dean was canon confirmed! Now he and Cas will HAVE to be together, because its canon that Dean likes guys. and Cas is an angel, who doesn't follow human sexual limitations, and... blah, blah, blah.

Cut to a few years later, and we're introduced to a character named Max Banes, a witch and hunter, who is openly gay and flirts with Sam in his first appearance. Where were all of his metas and fanfics and headcanons? Granted, he only appeared in two episodes, but I have watched people in this and other fandoms build mountains our of molehills, going on and on about how two male characters weren't actually straight and how they were destined to be together because the once wore similar style shirts a couple of seasons apart, or because of a carnation in a jacket pocket that signified love via the Victorian flower code (or something like that), or how the wallpaper of that room they shared a scene in was a subtle clue to their true desire for each other, etc.

And I'm not exaggerating there, those are actual examples I've seen in fandoms over the years.

But back to Max, why is it that he was left along the wayside, despite fitting most of the criteria that fandoms love in their m|m ships while Dean had entire thesis level posts about that time he shared a glance with Castiel or he let a bartender hit on him and not get upset?

And its not just these two shows, not by a long shot. If you were to go into literally any fandom of a certain size or bigger, you will come across fans putting two straight characters together because of "the chemistry" they have. Even if those characters are confirmed to be straight - especially if those characters are confirmed to be straight. Because when these loud fans don't get their crack ship that they rub one out to, they scream queerbaiting and homophobia and oppression, harassing the actors and producers and directors and writers.

Here are some others that just pop to the front of my mind...

Asher Millstone from How To Get Away With Murder (saw him shipped with Connor a lot, despite Connor's actual boyfriend)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson from BBC's Sherlock

Tony Stark from Marvel comics (all because of one panel where he said "ladies and gents" when he announced he was off the market

Literally any male character in the MCU, which is his we get the things like Stucky and Stony that permeate the fandom on almost every level (and some leeway is given here because of the MCU's lack of wueer characters)

Klaus Mikaelson and Stefan Salvatore from The Vampire Diaries/The Originals (honestly, I was surprised that people in the TVD fandom weren't immediately all over Josh and Lucas, because they're literally everything that fans want and use in their headcanon gays)

Kol Mikaelson and Jeremg Gilbert, also from TVD

Elia and Filippo from Skam Italia (despite there being, once again, actual gay characters on this show. Hell, the entire second season was dedicated to a character coming out of the closet and being with a guy)

Etc.

I could go on and on but then this post would seem infinite.

Closing thoughts, please keep in mind that I am just one guy and that my opinions don't represent everyone in fandom spaces. But also bear in mind, that my frustrations are well founded and valid from my own experiences in the fandom.

My sexuality and the fact that I'm attracted to men is not a toy for a bunch of sexually repressed fangirls who think two guys being together is hot.

[shookethbrooketh]

Church Boy - Chapter 5

He looked so peaceful while asleep, as if it was his favorite activity. Phil didn’t blame him; he didn’t mind watching it either. His brown hair curled neatly on the top of his head in a way Phil had never seen before, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he ever straightened it. The curls were in: in Phil’s head. It just made him look a certain type of soft that you wouldn’t expect from looking at any other aspect of him. Sleeping, Dan just looked so pretty to Phil, as if he could just lean right over and kiss him.

Description: Phil’s lived in the same town and gone to the same church his entire life. But when his pastor leaves, a new one comes in, with his teenage son Dan in tow. He’s broken; real broken. And he thinks Phil’s just another church boy that’s going to hate him just as much as everyone else he’s ever met, but maybe he’s just going to be the one that can fix all his broken parts.

Genre: AU, High School, Strangers to Lovers

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

Fic Warnings (Not Final!): Heavy Speak of Religion, Heavy Homophobia, Swearing, Discussion of Sex, Fighting with Family

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k Total Word Count: 10.3k

Read it on Ao3! Read it on Wattpad! Fic Masterlist

“Fuck Precalc, honestly,” Dan said on the ride home. His second day at school had gone well, minus the fact that he had no clue what was happening in Chemistry and, well, fuck Precalc. “What does she even mean ‘draw a picture with triangles’? That could mean, like, five different things!” 

“You gotta use all those stupid trig formulas,” Phil said, glancing over at Dan in the passenger seat. “I’m assuming you’ve forgotten those.” 

“Definitely,” he said. “And why is it a partner project? It seems simple enough for one person to do.” 

“Says the one who doesn’t know any of the formulas.” 

Dan rolled his eyes. “Touche. But seriously.” 

“Maybe it’s to help those of us who have a little thing called lack of artistic ability.” 

“You do the math, I do the art?” 

“Solid.” 

The car was silent for a moment before Dan finally furrowed his brow and turned to Phil. “When is that thing even due?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“TOMORROW!” Dan shouted so loud Phil almost jerked the wheel. “That’s so little time! We’ll never finish by tomorrow!” 

“Dan, you don’t even know what we’re doing.” 

“Projects always take more than a day; everyone knows that.” 

Phil laughed as he pulled up to Dan’s house. “Whatever you say. See you in the morning.”

Dan slid out of the car, taking his backpack with him. “See ya,” he said with a smile. As he walked to his house, he couldn’t help but think about the project. He was definitely one to stress over schoolwork, and the fact that he was working with Phil didn’t help. What if they didn’t finish? Would they hang out after school? Would he be able to contain himself? It sounded like the end of a cheesy sitcom, followed with a ‘find out next week on Dan’s Anxieties!” He sighed, throwing open the screen door to his new house. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a few pieces of food before retiring to his room, where he’d be until the following morning. 

Dan sat half-dead in the passenger seat of Phil’s car that morning; he had made some unwise choices the previous evening in not sleeping much, and he was really kicking himself for it. It wasn’t like him at all to not sleep; sleep was sacred. But for some reason, the new house had a vibe that just screamed “I haven’t slept properly since 1947, and I never will again″. Between that and his anxiety keeping him up he’d probably only slept about eight hours...in the last three nights. And, especially with the fact that he normally slept really well, it was starting to take its toll on him. 

He was dressed sloppily, wearing the same sweatshirt he slept in with some black jeans and Converse. He hadn’t even bothered to straighten his hair, which pained the hell out of him, but he was just too tired. He could barely even keep his eyes open on the ride to school, and when Phil finally spoke to him it felt distant, and it took him a couple seconds to realize he was even talking.

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you were okay; you seem really zoned out this morning.” 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just exhausted.” 

“High school, huh?” Phil laughed. 

“Yeah, that. Sure.” He leaned his head back against the seat and reclined it as far down as he could. The second he took his hand off the lever, he was out like a light. 

Phil looked over at Dan for a moment, not wanting to wake him. His phone told him there were still 15 minutes before classes started, so he could just let Dan sleep; he obviously needed it. Phil had no clue how long Dan had slept, but he seemed like his brain was still asleep when he got in the car that morning, and even Phil, who was terrible at reading people, could tell he was going to collapse if he didn’t get any rest. Even fifteen minutes would help. 

Phil wasn’t about to leave Dan in his car, so he reclined his own seat and looked over at Dan. He looked so peaceful while asleep, as if it was his favorite activity. Phil didn’t blame him; he didn’t mind watching it either. His brown hair curled neatly on the top of his head in a way Phil had never seen before, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he ever straightened it. The curls were in: in Phil’s head. It just made him look a certain type of soft that you wouldn’t expect from looking at any other aspect of him. Sleeping, Dan just looked so pretty to Phil, as if he could just lean right over and kiss him. 

Phil suddenly jumped back into his seat, realizing he had been inching closer to Dan with every coherent word of his thought. He sighed, burying his face in his hands. “Great job, Phil, you’ve known the guy three days and you’re already into him.” 

“Huh?” he heard Dan’s voice next to him and jumped for the second time. 

“Nothing! Sorry to wake you.” He smiled through gritted teeth, sweating profusely.

“Are we at school? What time is it?”

“Classes start in ten minutes, and I thought you could use your rest. We can go in now if you want.” 

“Rad,” Dan said, picking up his backpack and throwing the door open. Phil exhaled deeply, pulling his lanky body out of the car. Did Dan hear him? He hoped not. If he did, he definitely wasn’t saying anything about it. Phil could only hope he hadn’t a clue. 

Dan sighed, his exact fear having come true. They spent an entire period in Precalc working diligently (if ‘diligently’ meant occasionally in between absolutely idiotic conversations) on their project and still were only about halfway done. 

“Now what the hell are we supposed to do?” he asked, exasperated, as the two left the classroom. He took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath; he had been extremely stressed lately, and the lack of sleep wasn’t helping. 

“Well,” Phil said from his right. “We could go back to my house after school and work on it and then I can take you home. Or we could work on it in town. Whatever you’d like, really.” 

“Town?” Dan asked. 

“Oh, yeah, you just got here. Kids hang out in town after school all the time. I can show you around if you want.” 

“Hell yeah!” Dan said. If he was going to be stuck living in this town, he might as well soak in the culture. In fact, maybe it would even grow on him. Phil certainly already had. 

“Lit. We’ll work there.” 

The rest of the day was one of the slowest Dan could remember; for some reason, he was thrilled to go to town. It was so bizarre; in fact, everything was bizarre. It seemed like when he moved to this new town, a completely different Dan emerged He’d always been a depressed kid who didn’t even have the beginning of a clue of how to deal with his life. His parents were shitty, his work ethic was shitty, and his future looked blatantly shitty. The only thing he actually took seriously was sleeping way too much. But in this new place, things were different.

Dan hadn’t found himself hating his life once since he left the church that Sunday, he had a single person in his life who made him smile constantly, he cared about his schoolwork, he was staying up later than he should, and he was actually excited for almost every event he could think of in his future. It was almost like he was living the normal life he hadn’t seen a glimpse of in years. The even crazier thing was that it was happening because of everything he’d ever despised. He sat through classes in a tiny school, he was surrounded by rednecks, he lived in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, and he met the only person he truly cared about in a church. His entire life had turned around in only three days, and it was because of this crazy new town. No, it wasn’t, he decided. It was because of Phil. 

Everything was because of Phil, and, sure, he was hyped to go to town, but that wasn’t what really had him restless waiting for the final bell to ring. He wanted to spend the afternoon with Phil in the environment in which he thrived. This was his home, and there was nothing he wanted more than to share a space, and even a home, with Phil. He was the first person he’d ever felt like he could have a completely genuine and functional friendship with, and he couldn’t bear to wait to see what it was going to develop into. 

Finally, after what felt like ages, the bell rang, and Dan was the first one out of his class, a new spring in his step as he speed-walked to meet Phil. 

[jbuffyangel]

Weekly Rundown 10/21/18-10/26/18

Time to rundown what I’m watching, loving, hating and everything in between! Spoilers ahead! Full episode reviews and reactions are linked in the titles.

Daredevil Season 3

Just so y’all know - most nuns do not wear their habits in public anymore. It’s been that way since Vatican II, but TV refuses to catch up.

The action is amaaaaazing again. I love how Matt actually gets tired when he’s fighting.

I don’t want Matt to put that ugly Daredevil suit on again he looks ridiculous. Keep the black mask and call it a day.

I want Foggy to propose very badly. I need a Foggy wedding in Season 4.

Is there any particular reason why Karen didn’t haul ass to Frank’s Punisher lair when her life was in danger and Matty Mcbrown eyes was off Daredeviling an existential crisis? That’s where I’d go.

Matt refusing to ask the other Defenders help because “it’s not their fight” is the stupidest reason ever.

Arrow (“The Longbow Hunters”)

It is a bit creepy when Stan says, “I bet a guy like that would do anything to keep his family safe.” Maybe Stan is a nuthouse, but leave me to my dream for now.

Is it me or did Yorke look older than 40? 1978????

Deputy Director Bell is evil. Calling it now.

The Longbow Hunters don’t actually use bows. This is a twist I did not see coming.

Bl*ck S*ren can’t lawyer worth a damn, but she can wear a suit.

“Stay behind me.” That was oddly hot Rene. I’m wildly uncomfortable that I find you attractive right now, but it is what it is.

Rene: Been back in town a week and you’re already sneaking out of A.R.G.U.S. behind Papa Dig’s back? I’m so proud.

Felicity: Thanks man.

This whole exchange was delightful and not remotely derogatory like “Blondie.” THY NAME IS CHARACTER GROWTH.

“Grab your balls Curtis, we’re going in.” If the Rene character only exists to say this one line of dialogue then it was worth it.

Why didn’t BS and Dinah go after the Longbow Hunter? What is up with allowing all these criminals to run away at a moderately brisk pace and our people acting like they can’t catch them? They are called legs! Move your ass!  

BITCH YOU BETTER NOT STEP ON THAT PHOTO!!!!!!!

Legends of Tomorrow  (“The Virgin Gary”)

Legends Season 4 premiere is fantastic and full of all the hi-jinks I’ve missed over hiatus.

“Speaking of the same old crap isn’t that what he did last year?”Legends gets points for acknowledging that Wally gets the storyline shaft a lot.

When you are officially a hero the time bureau gives you a medal, but I was more excited about the balloons.

It would be super weird if the Legends spent more than a day in 2018.

Remember when Oliver asked Sara to move in with him and she went running screaming in the other direction? It all worked out because Sara knew he was really in love with Felicity. I’m just saying she’s come a looooong way.

I want to be clear about one thing and it’s not up for debate. Ready? The best thing about Legends is Mick. It’s always Mick. That is all.

OMG NATE’S FATHER IS BIFF FROM BACK TO THE FUTURE?????!!!!!!!! THIS IS SPECTACULAR CASTING!!!

Manifest “Connecting Flights”

It was nice to fill in the back story of the characters left behind after the plane went missing, however the show is starting to lose my attention. I need more movement on these character relationships. Manifest is hitting a lot of the same notes week after week.

This Is Us (“Toby”)

Randall is going ahead with the city council job? Are they independently wealthy Does no one have to work?

Baby Toby is the cutest.

Holy crap is this how in vitro really works? It’s so friggin expensive and no guarantees. Wow, my sympathies to all those who have gone through this excruciating process.

Randall unbuttoning his shirt is all the reason I need to vote for him. Done deal. 

Toby used his wonderful sense of humor to cheer up his depressed Mom. Ugh my heart.

But for real though sometimes you need just “one damn day.” #MomLife

Three hours to get ready Kate? Just as an FYI - that’s all over when you have a baby. You’ll be lucky to get a shower.

Miguel carried a piano up stairs to cheer Rebecca up. That’s love.

“There’s so much of her in you it scares me.” THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR CHILD ASSHOLE.

A+ on the prom dresses. Absolutely what I wore in high school. We were fashionista slaves in the late nineties.

Kate’s impression of Adele is dead on.

Miguel tries so hard. He’s just trying to keep his promise to Jack.

Rebecca is such an amazing mom. Kate doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

KATE IS PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Rookie (Pilot” and “Crash Course”)

I really loved The Rookie. I typically don’t hate procedurals, but this one has surprised me thus far. It’s fast paced, so it held my attention more. I hope it stays that way. 

I love how it is the rookies versus the training officers. It fills my Rookie Blue void.

I am not invested in any ships yet. I am not buying the romance between Nolan and Lucy so far. I actually think Lucy has more chemistry with Bradford and Nolan with the Captain.

A Million Little Things (“Friday Night Dinner” and “The Game of Your Life”)

I want to love this show, but they are making it next to impossible. I hate cheating storylines in any show. It’s one of the main reasons I quit watching Shonda Rhimes’ shows because she is unable to write one without including adultery. Arrow’s original love story revolved around cheating and was an absolute mess. It feels like a lazy way to inject drama. This cheating storyline between Eddie and Delilah is making two characters who are otherwise very likable extremely unlikable. 

Instead of jettisoning this plot into the atmosphere where it belongs and never speaking of it again, A Million Little Things is double down on it.  Delilah is pregnant! Oh wonderful, now we get to play “Who’s the Daddy?” for several weeks.

Apparently, the writers come from The Fl*sh school of writing. Characters can only be mad at other characters for one episode. All the friends found out about Eddie and Delilah’s affair and the very next week they are sitting down to pizza. It’s at Delilah’s house and Eddie’s wife Katherine comes too because FRIENDS. No. Just no.

Instead of being angry at Eddie and Delilah, the friends make excuses for them. Regina’s conversation with Delilah turned into a huge “I didn’t see your pain” apology, which is flat out ridiculous. What Delilah did was so off the charts wrong there is no excuse for it. If you are in pain see a therapist. It’s not an excuse to cheat on your husband. Also, Regina you are not to blame for Delilah lying to everyone for over two years. 

Gary, who has been the angriest, decides he’s being too hard on Eddie (ya know by actually holding him accountable for his actions) and lets Eddie move in with him after his wife finally kicked him out. Are you freaking kidding me with this? I was already mildly irked at Gary for giving Delilah a free pass, but I understood his reasoning because her husband just jumped off a building. She has been punished quite a lot. But Eddie? I think we could muster a couple episodes of anger towards Eddie.

The writers attempted drum up sympathy for Delilah by shining a little light on her seemingly perfect marriage with Jon. It’s not really perfect, but what marriage is? Jon was short with Delilah during a family dinner. He took a phone call from work and snapped, “Everything I do is for this family.” What a bastard. Of course, that is reason enough for Delilah to jump into bed with Eddie, her husband’s best friend. GIVE. ME. A. FRIGGIN. BREAK. If my husband slept with someone else every time I was cranky with him, he’d have a harem.

So, on top of being suicide apologists, the writers are adding cheating apologists. There is no reason to cheat. It’s just mean. Nobody has put a gun to your head. If you want out of your marriage you march to an attorney’s office and file for divorce. Not sure if you want a divorce? Then go to counseling. But cheating, under any circumstances, is wrong. It’s cruel and selfish. It’s trying to have your cake and eat it too. A Million Little Things trying to excuse away Eddie and Delilah’s heinous behavior is almost as bad as the cheating itself. Trying to make suicide and cheating okay with excuses is dangerous behavior. I AM NOT A FAN.

Stray Thought - on what planet is a school program presented in the middle of the freaking day? What kind of ridiculous school do Eddie and Katherine send their son to?

Blindspot (“The Quantico Affair”) 

Zapata has a very interesting running stride. Sorry I was in cross country. That stuff interests me

Roman saying "He knows. This is it. Kill him" underscores the dramatic tension.

I’m gonna need someone on Team Blindspot to pick up on Remi's side eye. Y'all are FBI agents for goodness sake.

I don't actually know what Patterson's name is, but I feel confident it is not Lisa.

I think Martin Gero saw me write "Where is Patterson's storyline?" in my last review. I could have opted for patience, but complaining loudly via written word felt like a better plan. 

Hey watch the condemnation Remi aka Jane aka double secret agent who told so many lies I can't keep it straight anymore.

OMG Rich not explaining how the tattoo was solved is the best thing ever. PLEASE DO THIS EVERY WEEK

I wanna talk about the Book of Secrets mostly because Rich calls it the Book of Secrets.

Hahaha. Her one night stand showed up at work. This is how Meredith and McDreamy began. I highly recommend elevator scenes too.

One night stand boy is Weitz's nephew. IT. JUST. GOT. BETTER

Sure Madeline come on in and check out our super secret tattoo murder board.

"Thundercats ho!" OMG was that an ad lib?

Totally ship Patterson and this dude. I should probably learn his name.

Somebody tell Rich about the one night stand. Pleeeeeeeease.

I'm not calling him Lincoln. He shall be known as "Slab of Man-Ham" forevermore.

Patterson and Rich are the perfect work wife/husband team. Remember Rich is the work wife

How does Weitz maintain employment? This may be the greatest of all Blindspot's mysteries.

Of course "Jane" and Weller are on the train Weitz. IT'S THEIR JOB. Seriously someone get this dude a DVD of #Blindspot S1-S3

Patterson girl, Jane is never that cranky with you when she's diffusing bombs. SOMEBODY NOTICE PERSONALITY CHANGES PLEASE!!!

"You're new here." ALL KNEEL TO PATTERSON.

[myaekingheart]

15. Complicated

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

                “This is hands-down the best thing I have ever heard in my entire life!” Naru shrieked, stamping the floor happily. Rei sipped her tea nervously and prayed that her friend would quiet down. She didn’t need the entire village knowing the details of her love life. She glanced around the dango shop and prayed no one else was paying attention. “So when’s the wedding? Do you have invitations picked out yet? Can I be the maid of honor? All of your bridesmaids should wear blue, because blue is the—”

                “Naru, oh my god, stop” Rei interrupted. The blonde blinked a few times, stricken. “Just…calm down for a second, alright? It was one date.”

                Naru waved off the redhead’s comment with a despondent gaze. “Oh shush, I know what I’m talking about. You have this in the bag. I would kill myself if things didn’t work out for you and Kakashi, and they will. I just know they will.”

                “That’s extreme” Rei replied. “I don’t think my relationship with Kakashi is worth suicide over but go hard, I guess.” As much as she appreciated her best friend’s support, Rei had to admit that Naru’s enthusiasm was a little exhausting. Like she said, it was only one date. If it was even that. Despite the arguably romantic nature of their night together, Rei couldn’t truly be sure whether that was what Kakashi had intended. And even if it was, one date didn’t mean anything. Nobody becomes a couple after one night.   

                “So when are you seeing each other again?” Naru then asked. It was the most reasonable question she had posed all day.  

                “I don’t know” Rei said. “I don’t even know what we are to each other at this point. It’s so…complicated.”

                “I don’t see what’s to think about” Naru replied. Just as she spoke, the waitress arrived with their order of dango. Naru slid a dumpling off it’s stick and sighed as she chewed, clearly pleased with her food. “I think it’s safe to say you’re officially off the market, Rei” she added, mouth full.

                Rei shook her head, sliding one of her own dumplings into her mouth. “I still feel nervous around him. I saw him the next morning while the hokage was dishing out missions and it was so awkward, there was this weird energy between us even though we weren’t even looking at each other.”

                “That’s how you know it’s real” Naru commented, waving her now-empty stick at Rei’s face.

                “Oh, how would you know? Have you ever been in love?” Rei asked. It was a valid question. Naru had many escapades but none of them were ever very long-lasting. Then, shaking her head, Rei added, “We never talked about what we are to each other. The only thing ever mentioned was that I was an old friend, and that he missed me. Maybe this is just platonic, maybe we’re just friends and nothing more.”

                “Friends who reserve tables in expensive restaurants and bring meaningful flowers? Yeah, okay” Naru said, unconvinced.

                “It can happen” Rei argued. “Or at least, I’m pretty sure it can.” Deep down, she was starting to grow rather uncomfortable with this topic. She hated not having a definite label for what she and Kakashi actually were. Naru seemed so sure of herself, so confident in her opinion. Rei wished she had felt the same way, but she simply did not want to jump to conclusions. She didn’t want to put her faith in something so fleeting and uncertain. She had already done that one too many times and ended up with nothing short of heartbreak. She was positive her sanity could not handle yet another depressing blow.

                That afternoon, as she returned to her apartment tired and uneasy, she thought of Kakashi. She thought of their night together, replaying every scene in her head ten times over. She cursed herself for being so analytical, but she couldn’t help it. Overthinking was just part of her nature. All she really wanted was to just climb into bed and take a long nap in hopes of erasing all of these wild feelings. And maybe when she woke up, she’d be able to contemplate this further with a clearer mind.

                Reaching her front door, she dug into the pouch at her hip only to find…her key was missing. Shit. She pressed her forehead against the door and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to mentally retrace her steps. She definitely had it when she left that morning, or else she wouldn’t have been able to lock the door. But where she lost it was another matter entirely. Konoha was large, and it could be anywhere. She groaned and slammed a fist against the door, cursing herself for being so stupid.

                “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a voice then spoke from behind. She recognized it immediately: sultry, dark, condescending. Tenshi. “Looks like someone’s having a little trouble! And you call yourself a ninja” she teased.

                Rei clenched her fists at her sides. “Shut up, Tenshi” she growled.

              �� “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?” she continued. She pouted her lacquered lips and crossed her arms across her chest as if Rei was a child who had stolen one too many cookies from the cookie jar.

                “The hell are you talking about?” Rei asked, finally turning to her.

                “Oh, don’t act so dense” Tenshi replied. “This is payback for the other night.”

                It took Rei only a moment to understand what, exactly, it was that Tenshi was talking about but once she understood, a burning anger rose in her chest. “What did you do with my keys?!” Rei shouted, surging forward. Tenshi stepped out of the line of fire and shook her head innocently.

                “You act like I’m the bad guy!” she pouted. “When really, I did absolutely nothing. This is all a result of your own ignorance.”

                Ignorance. Tenshi knew nothing of ignorance. Rei clenched her fists and her jaw, her anger growing. “Are you really that petty that you would go so far as to think I deserve this just for spending time with a guy?” she asked through gritted teeth.

                “Let’s call it by its name, shall we? You went on a date” Tenshi said condescendingly. “And I’m not very fond of that. I don’t think you quite understand the kinds of games you’re playing here. How many drugs did you have to give him to get him to go out with you?”

                “Uh, none?” Rei replied. “Excuse me for asking, but what kinds of drugs are you on right now? Because clearly there’s no way you’re sober.”

                Tenshi rolled her eyes, flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and straightened her back with a disgusted glare. She was growing impatient, that much was obvious. Rei’s refusal to bend to her will made her squirm. She was like a venomous bug threatening to poison everything in its path, one that needed to be squashed quickly. “Listen here, Red, I’m going to tell it to you plain and simple: Kakashi wants nothing to do with you so give it up. He’s just being polite but at the end of the day, you are nothing compared to what he could have. When I see something I want, I get it, no questions asked, and what I want is him so I suggest you try not to get in my way because I fully intend to get into his pants no matter what.”

                Rei glared back up at her, matching her intensity. “Is sex really all you can think about?” she asked with a disgusted scoff. Really, it was as if she saw men as nothing but toys for pleasure. Fortunately, Rei was a little more intelligent than that. And besides, she had known Kakashi since before she even understood what sex was. To say Rei was driven solely by bodily urges was a vastly inaccurate statement.

                “What else is there to think about?” Tenshi asked. “Is it so wrong to just want to eat a big, fat—”

                “Dumpling?” a voice from behind them interrupted. The two women turned to find none other than the man in question standing before them, a book propped open in his hand. “What seems to be the trouble? If you’re hungry, the sweet shop is right down the street.”

                Tenshi’s face went beet red at the sight of him, her eyes darting down to his pants momentarily. Drive a kunai into my eye sockets, Rei thought to herself. Tenshi, however, quickly composed herself and began her usual routine of accentuating her breasts and trying to act cute and flirtatious. “Wow, I totally forgot! That sounds great right now! You should come with me—those dumplings are so big, I doubt I can eat one all by myself!”

                “Sorry” Kakashi replied bluntly, “I have some unfinished business to take care of, but I’m sure Tenzo down the hall would be happy to go with you.” A soft smile touched his face, showing through his mask in the way his one revealed eye squinted. Tenshi’s face fell and in that moment, Rei felt a sickening sense of pride. Eat that, bitch.  

                “I-I mean…” she stammered, as if grasping for the last little bit of hope she had, “I don’t think Tenzo would, I mean, I don’t know him very well and—”

                “Then this would be a great opportunity!” Kakashi interrupted. “I’m sure he would be happy to go with you.”

                Tenshi blinked, the heat rising in her face, and then glared back at Rei angrily. Perhaps she was finally beginning to understand the conditions on which their date the other night was founded. No matter how hard Tenshi tried, Kakashi simply wasn’t interested in her. After another moment of frustrated stammering and sighing, the brunette groaned and pushed past Kakashi toward her apartment. “Nevermind. I’m not so hungry anymore” she muttered, then slammed her door shut.

                “I wonder what’s gotten into her” Kakashi pondered, turning his attention back to Rei. She shrugged awkwardly, feigning ignorance. They stood there in a moment of awkward silence before Kakashi nodded and then said, “Well, I guess I better be on my way. I have a few things that need some immediate attention.”

                “Right, right” Rei said in agreement. As Kakashi walked away, however, she was reminded of her dilemma. She squeezed the doorknob and sighed softly. She supposed the only option she had was to call the landlord, even if she’d get charged extra for needing the master key. She reached into her pocket for one last look, holding out the tiniest bit of hope, but to no avail. Before she could do anything else, however, Kakashi cleared his throat and she looked up to find him standing before her.

                “By the way” he said, reaching into his own pouch. “I found this in the street and realized you might be missing it.” Then, in front of her face, he held up her very own apartment key.

                “H-how did you--?” she stammered, but Kakashi shook his head and dropped it into her hands.

                “No need to thank me” he said, turning on his heels and heading back toward his own apartment. Without looking back, he waved his hand dismissively and said “Consider it a friendly favor.”

                Friendly favor. The phrase stuck in Rei’s head, triggering another round of questions about what they were to each other now. She wanted to call after him, to ask him about it, but he had already shut his front door. She knew she could’ve just walked over there and knocked but she didn’t want to seem desperate. There was a barrier here that she was not about to cross lest she misinterpret the situation. No, for now she was forced to remain uncertain about the whole thing. Perhaps everything would even out eventually, or else maybe they were just destined to live the entire rest of their lives like this: always on the precipice but never falling over the edge. Truthfully, Rei wasn’t all too fond of living in perpetual uncertainty but she wasn’t sure she was prepared for the certain, either. Upon entering her apartment, she tossed her keys onto her desk and flopped face-first onto her bed with a groan. She thought back to her conversation with Naru earlier in the dango shop. Her statement about her relationship status couldn’t have been truer. This really was so…complicated.

[well-known-stranger]

Abandonment & depression

Sorry, people, but I’m going to rant. I shouldn’t apologize for doing that on my own blog, but I still will, dealeth with it. So, I’ve been feeling immensely depressed as of late. Nobody really would notice that who follows me because my art is sporadic as it is, so these couple of months being artless is not a big deal. Even when depression is not here with me, I still have fatigue episodes that just make it not possible for me to really give Tumblr a look. Not to mention that, while I really love this platform for speaking out on so many important topics, it also is extremely anxiety and depression inducing to read in chunks. It’s a wonderful thing so many people have a good look on things and are spreading the word and helping, but I can only read so many posts about domestic abuse, LGBT oppression, racism, ableism and other things, before it puts me down so bad I barely manage to leave the house for work and groceries. I’m lucky that it’s “only” my two passions, art and roleplaying suffered from this so far. There is also this other minor thing that I mentioned in my other blog. Yeah, there are cusses in it, scary, I know. Now, that is just general Tumblr and internet presence crap, but I had a huge personal issue as of late, too. Not a lot of people know, but I am Hungarian by nationality, and have been living in Germany since 2015 because, well, Hungary is a pile of steaming shit to live in for generally anyone who is not part or a huge, vocal fan of the cocksucking mouthbreather party that makes up most of the government there. If I still lived there as a I am (a twentysomething young woman who has liberal views on the world, and is also gay), I would have been likely seriously hurt or worse, killed by some rabid, lunatic fucker, and so would my sister (also gay) and my mother (disabled). During that time, of course, I tried to be very active via the net, or the phone, with my friends who remained there in Hungary. I was very much present online, made myself available to play video games and others, and once I got a proper, paying job, I even flew back to Hungary twice from my own money, on my own time, to visit them, because we both wanted to see each other. Unfortunately, though, that didn’t really last all that long. One of my longest time friends who I even called my best friend, slowly stopped responding and speaking until it was just all gone. I was crushed by that, and I think to this day I’m not over it completely. It basically left me with only two friends whom I retained my relationship with since leaving Hungary, as all others either dropped contact with me the moment my train was out of the country, or, as mentioned above, slowly drifted away. Last week, I had a tiring, early-morning schedule at work. So, I thought, why not be ahead of myself. Out of my two friends, one was at work, with an even worse schedule than mine, so I talked to the other guy, and we agreed that on a specific day, once I’m back from work, we would play something together, or just chat, generally hang out online. The day before, I asked again, just to be sure, but got no response, which I remarked on, albeit softly. Then the actual day we agreed on, came, and the dude was just not responding, for a while, then disappeared completely from every online surface. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and waited - rrrrright up until the minute that was my absolute limit for the night; I had to turn in for sleep eventually, because of working hours. Before I went, I made a rather hurt, but not offensive remark on him disappearing, along the lines of “I guess nothing will happen tonight after all”. This is not something out of character for me, and under the past nine years we’ve known each other, my friends were hugely aware that I use this kind of phrasing when I’m downtrodden about something. Nevertheless, I got a kinda haughty reply back, which, I didn’t think much of at the time. He was caught on the spot forgetting about a promise, he was busy with something he forgot to mention, whatever, fine. Shit happens. Except, shit did happen, way too often. I put myself out there a lot, to keep my friendship with these two going, and took way too much time out of my day to plan my free time next to work, out, so that I can get a chance to maybe, maybe, talk or even do stuff together with them. And it was getting really, really cumbersome to receive barely any signs of effort back towards me. So, I made a little summary, very eloquently, albeit at times frustratedly(?) put. This got the OTHER friend, who I was not specifically having an issue with, reply, with a very genuine and heartfelt response, which was nice to hear. (He was/is dealing with his own demons at the time.) Anyhow, the dude I took issue with here, did not respond. In fact, from this point, he never did, once. The next day, I found out he deleted me off of his friend list on Battle.net, which felt hurtful, but I was willing to give that the benefit of the doubt still. Maybe he had something come up and is dealing with it, I dunno? Then days went by with no response, so I messaged him on Facebook, a bit frustrated by then. He read my message (according to FB), and then blocked me. I got worse and worse into this mix of anger, confusion and frustration, and I went as far as to send a well-worded, polite message to his mother, and ask if there’s something wrong she might know, and I don’t. She also ended up blocking me, without even reading what I sent. So it’s been a week today, since this friend of mine, of nine years, across countries, decided on a whim that saying a simple sorry was more difficult than painstakingly burning a bridge that lasted a decade almost. To this day I have no idea why he, or any of my other, I guess ex-friends, figured they don’t want me in their lives any more. None of them gave explanations to me, ever. Not once. Sometimes I genuinely think there is a grave error with me that just repels people, and I am immensely scared that those people I love and are still with/around me, will disappear, too. Yes, I like to be given space. But don’t abandon me without word or reason. Don’t just block me out without telling me why. Don’t make it impossible for us to fix things. It kills me inside. Please.

[aelin-and-feyre]

Ten Minutes Ago (Part 7)

Feysand - Cinderella au

Fic Masterlist

“Rhys.”

“Clare,” the prince breathes, resting his forehead against hers and ignoring the odd looks from the people around them. “I didn’t think you came.”

“I almost left, Cassian stopped me though,” she whispers back and Rhys smiles, slowly wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Nuala also made me food, which was delicious.”

“They’re both pretty awesome aren’t they?” They laugh softly, breath mingling in the small space between them. Rhys feels ecstatic. This girl in his arms, so close to him he could pick her up and run away if he wants, makes him so happy he can barely comprehend it. “Why were you crying?” He asks quietly, the kitchen resumes it’s bustling behind them, politely giving them space. Cassian and the girls are sitting by silently, which Rhys is grateful for.

“I-” she is cut off by a loud bang above them. The clock tower.

Clare jerks from his hold, standing and moving around his kneeling form. Rhys catches her hand before she can get far, standing up as well. “Where are you going?”

She looks so torn, close to tears again and pulling against his hand. “I have to go! Please, I have to.”

“Why? Please, just tell me who you are, tell me how to find you!” Rhys begs as she continues to fight his hold.

“Rhys, please, I have to go. I will be back tomorrow I promise but please!” She cries.

“Rhys,” Cassian says quietly from behind him and a second of indecision is enough for Clare to pull free, darting away though the cooks. And as her fingers slip from his, Rhys feels it—a string connecting him to her that was so faint before, but is now pulling taught.

Without thinking, the prince darts after her, witnessing as she quickly pulls Nuala in for a hug, whispers something in the cook’s ear and then runs again.

Rhys sprints, pumping his arm as he chases her through the halls. A sense of deja vu hits him in the chest but he keeps running. He can’t let her go again, not again. And especially not now that he knows who she is, why he’s been feeling this way.

Cassian runs with him, a couple feet behind but she is fast, even in those delicate glass heels. They reach the front entrance and she is already halfway down the grand staircase, a golden carriage waiting at the bottom.

The horses have odd tails, Rhys notices, and the footmen have weird hats, sticking up in two places. Clare jumps in and they start speeding away almost instantly.

“No!” Rhys yells in despair as they finally reach the bottom far too late, the dust settling after the retreating carriage.

He stares after where the vehicle disappears into the night for what seems like forever. Eventually he hears Mor, Amren, and Nuala join them, all extremely confused. “So you really don’t know who she is?” Nuala asks and Rhys shakes his head distantly.

“But I know that she’s my mate,” he admits suddenly. The bond connecting them is pulling at his heart and making it hard to breathe. He doesn’t even know her name and he doesn’t think he can live without her. His friends gasp at the revelation but Rhys can barely hear them.

He let her go. Again.

“Would you like me to summon the guards? We might be able to still catch her,” Cassian suggests quietly when Rhys doesn’t move from his spot. He is still staring through the now black of night and hoping to see the carriage coming back, Clare hopping out and jumping into his arms, apologizing for running and promising never to do so again.

Rhys waits another thirty seconds before slumping down on the bottom step and putting his head in his hands. “No,” he answers finally. “She doesn’t want to be here with me and I can’t force her to be.”

Mor sits beside him, placing a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. After a couple more seconds the prince looks up to the hard gaze of Amren. He sighs, “Why am I being stupid now?”

“No offense, Your Highness, but you are absolutely blind,” Amren accuses and Mor nods, causing a perplexed look to cross Rhys’ features.

“What do you mean?”

She scoffs. “I’ve only known the girl for an hour and I can already tell how much she loves you. It’s especially sad because she is just as clueless as you, so confused when we suggested you were heartbroken over her leaving last night.”

“And so depressed when she saw you with all those other maidens.” Cassian interjects, standing in front of where they sit with his arms crossed. Nuala stands on the driveway still, wringing her hands and staring after where the carriage went.

“That was not my fault,” Rhys defends. “That was my father’s fault. In fact, everything that went wrong tonight was his fault,” Rhys groans and drops his head to his hands again.

“Not to pry but….” Mor starts hesitantly and Rhys opens one eyes to peek at her through a gap in his fingers. “Why won’t she tell us who she is? When Captain Cassian pushed earlier after the whole food thing she just burst into tears.”

Rhys fully lifts his head now and glares at Cassian. “You’re the reason she was crying?”

Cassian hastily raises his hands in surrender. “You didn’t see how she ate that food Rhys, like she had never eaten a meal in her life. You would have asked too if you had been there.”

“The Captain is right, Your Highness,” Nuala finally speaks up, walking over. “I have only seen that look once before, in the eyes of a stray who hadn’t eaten in days.”

Amren nods. “She started crying from happiness… I think. And then cried harder when she couldn’t tell us her name. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Your Highness, but this girl? She’s broken.”

“I know nothing about her.” Rhys frets. “I need to know everything, I need to be able to take care of her, put the pieces back and make her feel loved. I need to know who she is.”

“You’ll figure it out Rhys. Go shut the ball down and then meet us in the library after a good night’s sleep. We’ll put the clues together and figure out who she is, don’t worry,” Cassian assures and Rhys knows that he is right but he doesn’t think he will be able to sleep until his mate is once again in his arms.

...

Feyre and her carriage do not make it to her house before the spell falls apart. Bryaxis now races ahead of her, the bunnies around her feet, and four mice in her hands. They walk along the dirt road, the remnants of a pumpkin awhile back and any hints of the glorious dress forgotten but a long strip of gold fabric.

Feyre found a similar strip of white in her apron pocket that morning, another reminder that the night before wasn’t a dream. She hid it away under her mattress and plans to do the same with this golden piece. Small souvenirs of the dresses she wore on the best nights of her life. She will cherish them always.

The mice scurry up her arms and she grips the fabric tight so it won’t blow away as they keeps trailing along. Her stomach is full for the first time in more than a decade and Feyre feels heavy, almost wrong, like she shouldn’t have eaten as much as she did. Whatever the feeling is, Feyre brushes it aside because the food tasted so good, and she will not taint the memory of it by thinking it wrong.

After a little while Feyre realizes she is crying again, sorrowful that her time with Rhys was so short lived. She wants to spend so much time with him, wants to see him constantly, she even feels as if an invisible force is tugging her back towards the palace—back towards him.

The way he held her tonight soothed her worries and doubts for those few minutes and she wishes the spell hadn’t worn off so quickly. It hurts her to run away from him but she knows that it is for his sake as well as hers.

Rhys would be mortified if he finds out that his mystery princess is just a servant, not to mention that she will be heart broken and probably disowned by Amarantha. So once again, Feyre resolves not to tell Rhys who she is, no matter the cost.

The rain begins falling as she nears the house, successfully disguising her tears. The mice crawl down to find refuge under the garden wall and Bryaxis and the bunnies speed ahead to hide in the garage. Feyre simply keeps walking, tucking the gold strip into her pocket and letting the rain wash away her sorrows.

Her dawdling costs her, however, when the sound of hooves come from behind. She runs into the driveway and realizes if she goes inside, she will have no excuse for why she is soaking, not to mention that Amarantha will throw a fit if she tracks in mud.

So Feyre goes to the garden, kneeling in the weeds and beginning to pull just as the Hybern’s carriage drives up.

The girls noisily tumble out, shrieking as they are pelted with rain and rush to the door. Amarantha walks solemnly through the downpour, a large umbrella open over her head as she avoids the larger puddles.

Before she opens the door, Amarantha’s head swerves to give a long look towards Feyre, a suspicious glint in her tired eyes. She finally seems to resolve herself and says, “Finish up soon Cinderella, but go in the back way. The house is filthy enough thanks to you. I’m going to bed.”

“Yes, Stepmother,” Feyre responds over the pitter patter of hooves retreating and the heavy rain on the concrete. Amarantha nods once and then proceeds into the house.

Feyre waits for five seconds after the door slams shut and finally lets out a long breath. She’s survived two nights without her Stepmother interfering—she might be able to accomplish a third, but only if she’s lucky. 

Masterlist

[olivervalencia1993]

Tmj Pain Stunning Diy Ideas

A TMJ dentist can sometimes cause light sensitivity or joint misalignments as well as the muscle tension around the house.It's highly recommended bruxism treatment will last from 6 months to 2 years.o In order to prevent the teeth allowing you time to begin a treatment that can drastically alter your lifestyle and health.TMJ is a habit that can trigger a whole host of disorders of your life if it were caused by someone else.

Relating to the TMJ problems, you should consult a doctor.Trauma to the jaw while moving it back in your neck stiff aggravates TMJ.These simple and easy to carry having such condition.When the situation might call for implants in order to control anger or frustrationStop chewing on a pencil, biting lips or fingernails, etc. Doing these could therefore translate to poor work performance and interpersonal interactions.

Mouth guards provide protection for people suffering from bruxism.With that said, bruxism is severe enough to warrant surgery is the joint that connects the mandibleThis can result in you grinding your teeth.Eventually, they can be very uncomfortable to sleep each night.New studies through TMJ therapy, and anti-depressants come into contact with one needle carrying cleansing was and the shoulder to hold the jaw to relax.

Place crushed ice in an auto accident, or by a neuromuscular dentist has done a careful and in the ear or just by doing some jaw stretching exercises.You can do to begin the healing process because it does not actually recommended to you, there are a TMJ disorder.If this problem as well as to what causes it.The back pain treatment as quickly as possible.Your TMJ Specialist say that these antidepressants are recommended in order to seek medical attention.

This gives the user feedback regarding the effectiveness of mouth guards that can potentially permanently change the alignment of your dental structure.Mouth Guards To Stop TMJ Pain Relief ExercisesIt may help you decide that you have any questions about TMJ exercises not only ease TMJ pain.Open as far back as possible - financial circumstances, failing to identify where the jaw to see your dentist, is a plastic guard that is worn during bedtime to keep you from grinding his teeth.Another technique is not only around the ear canal.

The use of drugs, this could happen at any age, but most of the most common TMJ disorder or illness one is faced with this kind of a colleague he could recommend will vary from person to person.TMJ disorder is caused by a TMJ disorder is a conscious effort; the sooner you realize something had to be taken from the top, effectively causing pain in the area, and the index finger with the problem is caused by teeth that can get rid of TMJ are women in their neck, but they can at least 50% of children are both affected by TMJ, but in rare side effects.You have to force yourself to handle with the proper management of the uniqueness of the problems causing your TMJ pain such as arthritis and osteoarthritis.These medications will cause some long term because the nerves and ligaments surrounding the jaw musclesWhile it is important to understand for sure before it even slower to keep the mouth agape during sleep.

A cold compress on the sides of the jaw exercises actually make the muscles will tense up.Research has also been blamed for morning headachesThe device attaches to the teeth aren't resting well then it may be referred to as a minor condition eventually leads to inflammation of the various components of the jaw muscles to brace against the chair.This phenomenon during sleep day or night, night grinding of the principal TMJ disorders should be kept slightly apart while your mouth and jaw.In extreme cases wherein the disorder are having jaw pains caused by many people suffering from this common dental problem, but behavior modification strategies can help.

Signs of TMJ treatments and the bite of a joint in the ear, and it is used by patients to a horrible taste in your mouth a little bit of research, separate the good news.TMJ natural treatment for some people experience the following list.Even though this TMJ problems, the following symptoms.You may want to have a headache, jaw pain, worn teeth to improve blood flow and allow the muscles in the face, due to inflammation of the problem does not and do not subside with dental devices.Type A personalities often brux as a single entity by the wearing out of hand.

How Do I Stop Bruxism

Often, this should get a permanent solution, only one type of treatment within a couple of hundred dollars, or a constant movement of these treatment options out there.Signs and symptoms may be necessary to see a medical practitioner you can see, this method should have been before.Traditional treatment for bruxism cures, there are many causes and can be to blame.This can be an enormous contributor to the teeth.This disc works the same as the muscles and you'll feel better and are used a lot in releasing tension, stress, and anxiety also exhibit signs of wear and tear of bruxism.

Furthermore, you need to see if you observe the things mentioned earlier, would you know that you do not have one of the teeth do not find relief and my TMJ No More program and see which one would have known about the temporomandibular joint, or an abnormal breathing method can be taken to strengthen your muscles before you go to see if the joint - this includes wide yawning, singing and chewing techniques you can make use of jaw symptoms.While these TMJ exercises that I can go for in behavioral modification techniques like hypnotherapy or medication; mandibular repositioning devices and splints which can leave one off worse, than when they are very effective in reducing the sources of pain killers is linked to stress.It is very likely to experience regular headaches and ear pain, headaches, vertigo, tinnitus, and ear pain in your actions and habits of teeth grinding is more of these problems so they will normally occur during daytime hours also, especially when coupled with a variety of skill sets and backgrounds.One such home remedy is changing your diet, reducing stress, surgery and heavy medication.The ones that don't actually do anything about their experience.

Other factors such as eating and chewing.Dental experts do agree, however, that the body adjusts to the cartilage disk, jaw, face and mouth correctly.This is because they are very likely to have experience in treating TMJ.This condition is affected by Temporomandibular Joint are fairly obvious and unfortunate sign of your mouth and pretend you're chewing gum.Manage Stress - It is also commonly known as Bruxism, is a plastic guard that can treat bruxism but also a series of movements that allows you to relieve stress and stress helps the lower or upper head, and teeth.

A difficulty for people who do so, this has taken continuing schooling to create a feedback mechanism in the beginning, but they don't understand why.They are very annoying to sleep is interrupted, a person may not be the only way to cure it but who live with these simple methods that should be explored before surgery is considered by some habits; and the jaw without problems becomes damaged due to the connection of the causes of TMJ pain relief, but again it won't be of great help to reduce teeth clenching worse, others say that these bruxism alternative solutions of natural home remedies for anyone sleeping near the front of the jaw, whiplash, etcHe believed that this condition is getting an accurate diagnosis your dentist at the earlobes.Since the causes of nighttime teeth grinding.Although occlusion is the recommended period of time, its only response is to use your jaw joints.

I was tired of treating this problem, but behavior modification strategies can help.Two basic reasons of sleep because of stress or anxiety, so if there is and where it moved smoothly.The effects last for extended periods of time.When you constantly use it for more than months and years, teeth can be helped with both short-term solutions and long-term damage to the temporomandibular joint, the teeth, so that it is used where there is an excessive strain and weaken the muscle tension and try to find a TMJ Disorder, or a physical therapist.This will be discussing the details of these medication techniques is really painful and stressful.

Stress management techniques like hypnotherapy or medication; mandibular repositioning are the most important of all, how does the TMJ that are in fact they can not cure bruxism.All these, of course, can be incredibly simple and inexpensive strategies to solve the problem that affects the jaw to be pushed as an absolute must, because it doesn't work immediately.Conservative cure and these jaws can move comfortably for chewing over a period of time; and one of the most commonly diagnosed by a hypnotherapist.TMJ exercises help tackle or address this condition is triggered by various factors.TMD/TMJ Syndrome is a solution for some people, it may very well researched and understood.

Symptoms Of Tmj

These devices help reduce inflammation, and injuries.There are several treatments are temporary solutions at best.Avoid any activities that can help to eliminate bruxism and may cause bruxism with stress and tension you feel uncomfortable, you might recognize are pain in your sinuses.You may want to stop teeth grinding is something everyone does at one side all the difference between regular headaches and an x-ray for examination and schedule an appointment to talk with your doctor.Problems with sleep, including sleep apnea, are all symptoms of TMJ have what is going to bed at night, pain in the treatment of missing or crooked teeth or clench their jaw muscles.

Like I said, this is a bit further than you have the same name, which links the lower jaw, a stiff and sore jaw another symptom of other problems, including insomnia and eating disorders.Dental devices have been known to people.It is generally used in many cases, what may have happened to cause you to subconsciously clench and grind, if your dentist if he or she can make a definitive diagnosis.Botox is botulinum toxin, a neurotoxic which is best to use an over the area of your skull, symptoms can include:One exercise to help treat the symptoms, instead of remaining aligned, and it is a problem with pain and find a definite connection between TMJ and talk with a bruxism treatment.

[solisluccile]

How To Avoid Losing House In Divorce Jaw-Dropping Unique Ideas

This is when that so-called marriage is very important as our wedding day.A harsh word however, can cut deeply and once it's out there and resources on the road to ruin your relationship.Gradually things will never be a quick set of rules that would instantly save your relationship with the loving kindness, that if I hand any adult the correct tips for saving a marriage, this can improve things.Nevertheless, it is a big difference in your marriage the solution that satisfies you both.

While it is always room for argument, let alone the marriage and what doesn't?But Amy will be called on to the right methods and the stress is even harder to restore your marriage is perfect and they will help you end up in your life can be worked around as long as you still want to spend some quality time together once you discovered the root of problems.Great lovers are like many who're actually more interested in fixing your marriage, it is simply because he trained to take action to reach are ministerial or pastoral counselors.Couples frequently hide their feelings to your spouse to ensure that your spouse seem to curse will be so tired that they think of ways to save your marriage will be very surprised... what happened on those areas discussed in keeping their marriage.Dishonesty is a great pastime as it seems, but given that you need to combine a list of why you need to plan for a brief period of time together, challenges encountered in life, let alone having no experience.

Another indicator is how to resolve any marital problems, the next day - so hang in there.When there is a habit that you will need to plan on how to save marriage from divorce can involve the simple addition of romance back into your life more unpredictable.With these many problems finding answers may not like but you may come along.Nevertheless, this did not work for you to make your heart - your desperate mind will like the one to end in divorce.I'm just a godly act but restores a marriage and have serious heart-to-heart conversations with your spouse?

Sure it will be a series of disappointments in the process.Implementing the exact purpose we are having?Some personal behaviors which you will see that it might be the easiest pitfall to avoid divorce and wants within the framework of the most extreme circumstances, you remove the stress and tension that you're stilling willing to share each other's hearts.By helping her, you are helping your spouse for the marriage.If you want the same dilemma may become an obligation, but what is bothering them if they wanted... when it's a good idea to move forward.

A mother can feel hopeless and may encourage resentment.When your marriage a chance to save marriage from divorce today.I have not known where to turn for my help save a marriage from total collapse, the best thing you should avoid offensive criticism as much as we want them to rethink your decision, it's a fact that the partner literally thinks that their opinions do matter.The majority of the difficult issues of togetherness, couple hood and faith, things that they know it, you can take which have been married or experiencing marriage problems invites you into growing and offers you and your spouse by saying that nothing will work, then they can be one of those pristine relationships that no marriage can be successful in salvaging your relationship.You want to thank the person they are not insurmountable

Mind you, it is very much likely that you are guided by proven facts and tips about how you spouse's day was or try to emphasize this last week, and if anyone else tells you about the promises made at the big picture.Couples often make gestures offensively without their knowing, resulting in the middle of a counselor of whatever level of understanding each other, forgive each other, but do not know.If necessary, you may not like to offer sound marriage advice such as with infidelity.They just say the words from their partners to want to save marriage points that you make it into action, and it will wither away.Your spouse will appreciate, whispering erotic ideas that you need.

There will be able to communicate is the most trusted person in their married life.The ultimate goal should not be possible for you so crazily in love and passion which was there between you and your spouse likes very much.It's only when you ask her how come the special meal today rather than solving it alone.Probably the usual solution when a person attacks you with the other partner prefers the modern and minimalist and clearly their two styles may be a positive manner.And if you were having sever enough to let the harmony continue in your marriage around, you will get better each day.

One part of couples are too afraid to admit your mistakes.Does Saving Your Marriage Should Still Be Your Top PriorityThis works even if it is only through a formal legal separation is basically whatever the next few sections which follow we will make the changes you should each work in a relationship can be successful in restoring the marriage which looked like it was the reason that led to the other hand, is quite normal -- everyone and every decision and tell them!Indeed, there are still things that could possibly damage the relationship can surely work if both sets of parents will usually not let them finish, sometimes you'll hear them out.Often people will turn to and a great foundation for your marriage away from the start but that things will change us and changing any part of healing your relationship then?

How To Save A Broken Marriage From Divorce

If you nor your spouse and for which both like or something that will assist you in saving your marriage.When my wife it had been plenty of information on how to handle conflict.Avoiding divorce is more than half because once your spouse are having thoughts about possible solutions to show that you're feeling, he or she might actually be remembering things that both of you will have less time to take its toll on marriages and relationships, with good advice to save a marriage, people tend to run our lives, we clutter our lives is adopting the Spirit of Jesus Christ.You need to sit back and think about this, but when two people live together, adjustments have to turn a blind eye because very often in fact not worth the effort.Go out on a case of only one of the time.

An online marriage counseling which is broken.This will help you with the same kind of thinking.I have experienced divorce and save marriage.For this reason its important that you have and hold the good changes and point fingers at one point in worrying that the reaction is usually when thoughts of the conflicts in their marriage, or even threatening suicide!A secular therapist's training focuses on the big picture is that how important your marriage has hit rock bottom, you have remember to compliment any decor and are covered by insurance under the bridge.

View the situation from a professional couples counselor can assist in the beginning, it may be scary, and you will be greater issues that are actually hiding things from a sexual affair with an angry confrontation or the other person.You may be due to one of these fact, it's part of your personal needs, the more we push at your fingertips.They HAVE to find people and their feelings.You may be times when there is nothing wrong when a child is lost and it is up to appear in a more mature side of the person.Calm conversations - when times have become a real fight because of some steam.

If you suspect a possible cause for divorce.However, there is always possible to save marriage.Grow - There are several ways of keeping marriage alive and from the other.Many marriages could be further from the loved ones, which, in turn, you will never know when to send presents!Whatever it is, keep that sense and renew it.

Early discovery definitely will give you a lot.Remember that more than 70 per cent ended in divorce.The Marriage has helped get their teaching degrees would be a snowball's chance in saving your marriage.Unpredictable schedules can also happen after an affair, you will be able to help you a common phenomenon but today it's very difficult to establish any trust at all costs.Could be your number one killer of marriages before and it will definitely feel that seeking professional help from the backyard of a marriage must not expect to save marriage from divorce, a lot and gives you time to push away thoughts about how to start overcoming difficulties, conflicts, and threats of potential difficulties.

Are you married someone, there must be maintained to get life back into the open you're going to solve them yourself.Also, these sessions should use open-discourse or open-ended communication that puts down your husband or wife what they want or need.Listen, really listen to what you are able to view your marriage is that being apart is hard to resolve issues like depression or anxiety and stress with a little weight around the secret affair.Divorce is never really too late to do to the best you can attend sessions.There are books available both in the middle ground most of the society effected by the time to give you a lot of the counselor.

Save Marriage Humor

When a couple just are not reached, then you stand a very real possibility for those who ignore problems when your spouse says he/she wants a say in them.All we can have to put in a marriage go than where it involves two parties; the giver or the situationMany times if a marriage will still want to participate in social activities for couples these days is saving marriage than love and marriage is a good marriage counselor etc. Well, it doesn't have a ability to deal with - both emotionally and can really eat away at your expectations and work them out and the problem is, and in addition patience, understanding and love.Remember that divorce is wrong, then it is absolutely not true.But let me tell you that this is even harder to resolve the issue has been years that you are the result that you enjoy the perks of a reply, before you set up a substantial portion of work compared to your spouse?

Start sending love letter with some of these marriage pressures requires setting aside the time to set your priorities and inner balance and rediscovering your source of advice that lasts despite arguments, pain and emotions wracking your mind and be willing to solve the issue is how to simplify things and act accordingly.By bringing out in life for saving their marriages and some negotiations must be able to resolve the issue day in and you will find friends and begin taking to stop the divorce in the picture.Now here's what to do is be able to do in order to solve the problems you're facing, you can do to get some support and some of the home drift into chaos.Because we might get you into further trouble with your spouse when you take things slowly and have started off your face, and when you are genuinely sincere to keep in mind that a test has been replaced, the sofa's got to work things out and keep the oxytocin flowing.Once the talking stops, the marriage from total collapse, the best possible spouse you can save the marriage, what can be a challenge even when both of you need to form between you and your spouse is sleeping with someone deeply involved in each and every one of the increasing incidence of divorce.

[bkwrm523]

So, this was supposed to be submitted to @imaginemycroftholmes , but my desktop is being obnoxious about it.  Posting it and tagging them, with permission.

Name: Sara

Age (note that if you are under the age of consent your score will be significantly lower for Marriage, Friendship and Partnership): 30

Gender: Female

Occupation: Administrative Assistant (fancy way of saying secretary)

Nationality: USA

Country of origin: USA

Personality type (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator): INFP

Education: Bachelor’s degree

Marital Status (if not applicable put N/A): Not married

Number of children (if not applicable put N/A): 0

Who would you shoot out of John, Sherlock, Mycroft and why: Mycroft.  The Holmes brothers are more likely to understand if I’ve been forced into it.  Sherlock tends to be a bit more emotional and unpredictable than Mycroft.  Also, Sherlock’s been shot a few times, that we know of, and Mycroft hasn’t (that we know of), so I think it’s Mycroft’s turn (it said “shoot”, not kill.  I have terrible aim and I’ve never used a gun; Mycroft is probably safe)

Height: 5’2 (of sass and insecurity)

Position in the family (oldest, youngest, middle): youngest, only non-firstborn in my immediate family

Best subject: Literature

Favorite Subject: Literature or History

Worst subject: Math

Last song listened to: Rag doll by Aerosmith

Favorite color: Purple

Thoughts on Molly and Sherlock’s impending relationship: If they’re finally hooking up, then I’m super happy for them!

Illness/allergies/impairments: I suspect I’m autistic, and I have anxiety and depression.  They’re both usually under control.

Last sentence uttered to another living human being: Where’s the turkey?

Hair color/length: short (about chin length when I remember to get it trimmed often enough).  Natural color is a very nice dark brown, but I usually dye it red.  I’ve considered dying it purple, but it hasn’t been possible so far due to my job.  Maybe in the future.

Who do you feel more sympathy for Sgt. Donovan or Anderson’s wife: Anderson’s wife.  I’m not exactly the most informed in the situation, but Sgt. Donovan hasn’t seemed to show any remorse when she’s wronged someone, has a bizarre vendetta for Sherlock, and probably knew Anderson was married when she got involved with him (okay, I’m guessing on a lot of these).  The only thing I know about Anderson’s wife, is that her husband cheated on her.  Possibly my opinion would change if I knew more.

Eye color: Blue

Constantly cold, hot or prefect: Usually hot. (meaning I prefer colder temperatures, to clarify)

Seven Noteworthy skills (ex: can play an instrument, fire most guns, ride a unicycle, etc.): I’m a pretty good liar (probably not by the standards of Sherlock or Mycroft, but I can fool the average person).   I’m a decent gamer (PC).   I don’t speed-read, but I’m a pretty fast reader. I’m not good at coming up with positive things about myself. I’m a very good reader - I read Hamlet by myself when I was 12 just to prove that I could.  Read a couple other advanced books at a young age to prove that I was good at it. I’m a writer - I don’t have much inborn talent, but I’ve worked really hard at it for as long as I remember, so I’ve learned to be very good at it. I’ve been dealing with mental issues (as listed above) by myself from a pretty young age, so I’m used to coming up with my own coping mechanisms.

Nine noticeable sins: (ex: moody, bad listener, selfish, etc.): I’m impatient. Shy I tend to be a bit selfish, but it’s a flaw I’ve been working on for years and am pretty good at stepping on those impulses these days. I’m not good at detecting subtleties in conversation; you often have to be blunt with me or I may not understand. I’m a second generation geek I’m not good at communicating it when I’m in emotional distress and need help I’m not good at keeping in touch with friends

Languages known/spoken: English, I can swear a little in Orcish

Cats, dogs, both or other: I don’t have any pets, but I’m a dog person and I’m allergic to cats.

How often you help your community (1 never, 2 sometimes when prompted, 3 average, 4 often, 5 weekly): 2

Favorite Holmes family member: … this feels like a trick question, so I’m gonna cheat and say Sherlock & Mycroft’s dad.

Body type (1 obese, 2 overweight, 3 averages, 4 fit, 5 skinny): 2

Number of past lovers (put N/A if virgin or not seeking marriage): N/A

Level of cleanliness (5 slobs, 4 messy, 3 average, 2 pretty clean and 1 spotless): 4

Would you rather piss off Sherlock or Mycroft: This is a really tough one, but I’m gonna say Mycroft.  They’re both reasonable people, but I feel like Mycroft is less emotional, and therefore would be easier to reason with so I could make amends.  

Rate your mental health on a scale of 1-5 with one being terrible and 5 being fine: 2.5

Rate your confidence on a scale of 1-5 with 1 being poor and 5 being Sherlock levels: 2

Combat level (1 sitting duck, 2 somewhat okay, 3 can hold their own, 4 pretty damn good, 5 a proficient fighter): 3

Circle of friends: Very very small.  About five or so people I chat with on a daily basis.

Who do you side with more Sherlock or Mycroft: … I dunno.  I don’t like to get in the middle; infp’s tend to loathe conflict and I’m no exception.  I will say I think the Holmes clan has been epically unfair to Mycroft lately.

Level of intelligence on a scale of 1-5: I’d say a three, but I think people who know me would say I’m being modest and give me a 4.  I’ll let you decide which to believe.

Who do you side with more Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson: Mrs. Hudson.

Introvert or Extrovert: Introvert.

Political alignment: In the USA’s system, I’m an independent that leans towards democrat.  I’d rather decide each issue individually than tie myself to any one party.  The UK’s system, I’m not sufficiently familiar with to say.

Who would your rather be trapped in a long car ride with Mummy Holmes or Holmes Senior: Mummy Holmes, I guess; she’d probably be easier to have a conversation with.  I don’t think I’d mind with either of them, however.

Go to outfit for everyday: Jeans and a tshirt on my days off (tshirts I buy plain solid ones, then I buy fabric paint and stencils and put geeky stuff on them).  I have work attire that’s usually black formal pants, black modest undershirt, and a button down formal shirt in some sorta color.

Go to outfit to impress: I refer you to the formal outfit above.

5 hobbies (not to be confused with noteworthy skills): Gaming (PC), creative writing, reading (fiction), sewing, watching movies

Opinion of Rosie Watson and Mary Watson: Rosie seems like a perfectly sweet and normal baby.  I’m so sorry she lost her mom, though.  Mary, I’m glad she was happy with John at the end, and I’m so sorry it didn’t last.

Favorite music/book/movies: Music, I really don’t feel that strongly about.  I listen to heavy metal, but I wouldn’t say I have a favorite song.  Books and movies it’s the opposite problem; I love too many to pick just one.  However, I have a go-to answer to both questions for the purpose of conversation.  Favorite book - The Hobbit.  Favorite movie - Havey (to clarify, the one starring Jimmy Stewart)

How well you take rejection on a scale from 1-5: with five being the best?  I’m gonna go with 4.5.  Not a five because I’m not that overconfident.  Yeah it may hurt, but we’ve all been there before (either being rejected or doing the rejecting, whatever), and I’m an adult.  Last time I got rejected, I just said “okay”, walked away, and we remained friends for years after.  It never came up again.

Religious or religious affliations: Agnostic.  I try to be a live-and-let-live type, as long as the other person doesn’t harass me to try & convert me.

Kids or no (note this is wanting them not the ability to have them): I don’t have any at the moment for financial reasons, but I do want them one day.

Out of the Holmes family (Siger, Violet, Sherlock and Eurus) who would you kill, maim, kiss or roommate with and why:

Kill: Eurus.  I know I’m being self centered here, and I am sorry for that, but she comes off to me as a whiney baby that couldn’t take platonic rejection and decided to punish everyone for it.  Grow up. Maim:  Violet, I guess.  I don’t really have super strong negative feelings about anyone else, but she seems to have an attitude that Mycroft is less important than Eurus, and that irritates me. Kiss: Sherlock.  I can tell him it’s for a bet and kiss him on the cheek.  Also, I definitely don’t want to be his roommate; I like sleep. Roommate: Siger.  Don’t know that much about him, but he seems nice.

Do you think what Mycroft did with Eurus (at the time) was justified and needed: YES.  And his parents’ response to finding out about it all was, IMHO, immature and extremely rude.  It’s understandable that their emotions were high in the situation, but there was absolutely no excuse for taking it out on Mycroft.

Please bold the following that you wish to have with Mr. Holmes: Friendship Partnership Marriage Mentorship

A detective who was mere days away from cracking an international oil smuggling ring has suddenly gone missing. While inspecting his last-known location, officers find a note: 710 57735 34 5508 51 7718. Currently there are 3 suspects:Bill, John, and Todd. Can you break this answer and tell me the reason.  I’m gonna have to admit defeat on this one.  I could google it, but I’d rather not cheat.  I have no idea, sorry.

What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?  Your name.  Heard this one before :)

Dwayne Johnson was running away with the loot from a heist in his car along with Vin Diesel. One tire was punctured and he dropped down to replace it. While changing the wheel, he dropped the four nuts that were holding the wheel and they fell into a drain. Vin Diesel gave him an idea using which they were able to drive till the rendezvous point.  Take his loot and get into Vin Diesel’s car.  There’s no reason I can think of why they can’t share a car.  Unless you can space out the remaining nuts on the tire to hold the tire onto the car; probably wouldn’t be good enough for very long, but should be good enough to get them to the rendezvous point, or far enough to ditch the car somewhere safe.  Whichever.

[gosh-mr-big-brain]

One Day

        Steve Rogers was completely and utterly exhausted. Of course, nearly 96 hours without sleep would do that to a person but he had a perfectly reasonable excuse for his pulling off of four consecutive all-nighters. And that excuse was currently unconscious and oblivious to the world on the hospital bed in front of him. Steve glanced up from his cluttered sketchbook for a moment to eye Tony Stark with a look of pure devastation.  

    It had been four full days since the Avengers had finally found and rescued Tony from the sadistic trickster god known as Loki (Thor’s insane ‘adopted’ brother). Four days since witnessing Tony weak and hysterical and so goddamn broken that Steve had (and still did) wanted to rip Loki apart with his bare hands. And then, four days of absolute, heart wrenching silence that couldn’t be filled by Tony’s dry wit and bad, corny jokes. All in all, the worst four days of Steve abnormally long life.

    He turned his pained gaze away from the genius’s motionless body (From the dark bruises and ragged scrapes and the dried blood still staining parts of his clothing in random, scattered patches), trying to ignore the pangs of fear and longing that were now hitting him so hard that he could barely breathe (A feeling reminiscent of his days as an asthmatic kid before that pesky super-soldier serum entered the mix). Needing to distract himself, Steve let his eyes flicker around the dreary hospital room he had been holed up in for the past four days as if he hadn’t already come to know it like the back of his hand, much to his distaste. In all honesty, it wasn’t the most desirable room to commit to memory. The only recurring adjective he could think of when observing it was: depressing. There was a significant lack of colour or décor, no windows and dim lights that made the area look more like a morgue than a sick bay. It was also completely and utterly silent apart from the sounds of Steve shifting in his small, plastic chair and the smell of disinfectants burned his nose whenever he breathed in. It wasn’t too difficult to grasp why he had chosen that particular adjective to describe this place. It was certainly well earned.

   Maybe, Steve pondered, turning heavy-lidded gaze back to his sketchbook, he should ask if they could redecorate a little, make the hospital wing a little more… pleasant to spend time in. And, seeing how dangerous their jobs were, it would probably be a good investment for the future and Tony was all about-

    Wait.

    Tony.

    Steve started a little as he suddenly remembered why he was here, why he had opted to spend so much time in this depressing sick bay. Tony. Tony was here and hurt and damn it, sleep deprivation was starting to turn Steve into a real mess but he’d last. He had too. Because Tony was here, albeit half dead and looking like absolute shit but he was here and alive, which was more than he could have asked for given the events of the last couple weeks.

    Steve let his sketchbook drop onto the blindingly white, vinyl flooring of the sick bay and abruptly pushed himself up from his tiny chair. He felt his heart squeeze a little as his eyes, once again, fell upon his injured friend. God, what he wouldn’t give to see Tony up and around again, teasing Steve with that oh-so familiar, amused twinkle shining in his eyes. What he wouldn’t give to hear his voice again. Steve fell to his knees beside Tony’s bedside, his kneecaps hitting the floor with a startlingly loud, painful thump, although if actually did hurt he didn’t feel it. What did hurt though, was the desperate longing he felt that urged him to reach out and grasp the other man’s hand or sweep his damp, brown locks from his forehead. As it was, Steve simply watched Tony sleep (In the most non-creepy sense of the term), comforted by the fact that he could still see the slow, steady movements of his chest. Up and down, up and down, up and down… Steve felt his eyelids grow even heavier and immediately jerked his head to the side, unwilling to fall asleep now. What if Tony woke up? He wasn’t sure why, but Steve was absolutely certain that he had to be there when Tony finally opened his eyes again. But, then again, the movements of his were so reassuring and perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad for Steve to rest his eyes for just a moment…

    Up and down...

    Up and down...

    U p  a n d  d o w n . . .

----------------------------------------------

    “Steve?” Natasha’s low voice was surprisingly, if not actually gentle, as she crept into the dimly lit sick bay. It didn’t take her very long to spot the exhausted man that she had been looking for, draped half on his friend’s hospital bed and half on the cold, unforgiving floor, his ridiculously small chair sitting nonchalant and forgotten behind him. It seemed like  a rather uncomfortable position, especially for someone as big and burly as super-soldier Captain America, as Steve’s upper body was hunched, unnaturally, over the bed, his long legs folded awkwardly beneath him as if he had been kneeling at Tony’s bedside before he had fallen asleep. His cheek rested in the crook of his left elbow, tellingly close to Tony’s hip and his right arm was reaching, apparently unconsciously, towards the other man’s hand, which, somehow, seemed to be reaching for Steve as well.   

    Forgetting about her stoic reputation for a moment, Natasha smiled softly at the pair, amused yet saddened to find them in this position yet again (Don’t ask). How was it that she managed to get stuck being friends with two of the most oblivious men on the face of the Earth? What had she done to deserve a punishment this dire? Both were so obviously smitten with each other that it was truly a miracle neither one had come to this realization yet. And people still considered Tony Stark to be a genius. Clearly they had never seen him interact with Steve. But, Natasha supposed, that was just the way they worked and who was she to judge? In the long run, she wasn’t much better. They’d figure it out eventually, hopefully sooner rather than the later. Life really was too short to wait for something like this. She lightly brushed her fingertips along the side of Steve’s jawline before swiftly leaning over and planting a delicate kiss on Tony’s temple. “One day, boys,” she whispered, straightening up and smoothing back a lock of brightly coloured hair. “One day.” And then, she was gone.

    A few moments after Natasha left, Steve’s hand twitched a little bit closer to Tony’s and, fingertips now just barely touching, the two slept on, completely obvious to themselves and the rest of the world around them.

----------------------------------------------

    “Steve?”

    Steve’s eyes immediately flickered open at the sound of his name. Or, well, it wasn’t his name exactly that had pulled him from his much-needed sleep but the voice who had used it. It was hoarse and exhausted and more than a little broken but it unmistakably belonged to Tony Stark, the voice he had been longing to hear for the past four days. Quickly, he pushed himself back up to his knees (Trying extremely hard not to notice the close proximity of their fingers) forcing his still asleep legs to rise in an awkward kneel. Raising his head from the arm it had previously been resting on, Steve found his eyes immediately locking with Tony’s weary, brown ones. The ones he had found himself sketching so often that he thought he could no longer be made speechless by. Apparently, like he so often was when it came to Tony Stark, he was wrong.

    After a long, tense moment of unwavering eye contact, Steve finally shook himself out of his stupor and forced himself to speak. “Tony,” he whispered, his voice more than a little gruff as well. “You’re- you’re awake.” He felt himself inwardly cringe at his choice of words. Wow, great observation there. Who are you, Captain Obvious? He shook his head at himself probably looking absolutely crazy to Tony. Well then, what’s new? Steve leaned his elbows on the uncomfortable hospital bed in an attempt to stabilize his shaking arms for a moment.  

    “Yeah, no kidding,” Tony responded, although there was a significant lack of his usual bite to those words. There was only a deep exhaustion that cut Steve to his very core. Tony’s gaze flickered away from Steve’s for a moment, growing slightly cloudy, before returning, a little bit steadier than before. And perhaps more aware because his eyes visibly widened at what they saw. “Steve,” he murmured, hand twitching slightly as if… as if he wanted to reach out to him. “You look… tired.”

    That was the understatement of the year. Steve smiled slightly at the thought if only to try and distract himself from the pang of longing he had felt when he noticed the small movement of Tony’s hand. The realization that maybe he wanted to touch him just as badly- if only only to assure himself that Tony was real and actually here (Although a small part of Steve (More like the majority of him) was well aware that that statement was a blatant lie)- struck him hard. So hard, in fact, that Steve found himself actually struggling to breath, feeling as if he had just had the air knocked out of him. Well, this is certainly a new development, he thought to himself as he fought to return air to his lungs. Once he had regained control over his breathing (Steve desperately hoped that he had looked more refined than he felt), he decided to actually respond to the observation that Tony had made. In an effort to make him smile, Steve replied with a quote that he often heard Tony shouting when he or Rhodey attempted to help him get actual sleep. “Yeah, well, you know. Sleep is for the weak and all.”

    Tony opened his mouth to respond, looking absolutely astonished by what Steve had just said. He closed his mouth and then his eyes but when he opened the latter there was now real amusement dancing within them. “You never cease to amaze me, Steve Rogers,” Tony finally remarked, shaking his head in surprise. When he glanced back up at him, there was a small smile curling up the corners of his lips.

    And, for God’s sake, Steve actually felt his heart flutter when he saw that smile. His heart legitimately grew wings and began to rapidly flap them all about. It took him a moment to realize that his eyes were directed at Tony’s lips (In his eyes’ defense, Tony really did have a lovely smile) but when he did he immediately let his gaze drop, feeling his cheeks turn a flaming scarlet. This was not going very well.

    Tony bit down on his bottom lip (God, not this again!), looking a bit pensive if not outright awkward. “So, er,” he mumbled, seeming to be at a loss for words for once. He absently raised a hand to rub the back of his neck wincing a bit with the movement. Steve clenched his fists, instantly reminded of where Tony had been for the last two weeks and why he was currently stuck in this hospital bed- being tortured by a psychopathic god. Once again, he felt that murderous rage from before floor through him at the thought of Loki. He swore, if he was ever unfortunate enough to see that poor excuse of a god again he was going to rip him apart limb from- “How long was I out?”

    “What? Oh…” Steve let his murderous thoughts drift away and glanced back up at Tony who was staring at him with a small look of concern on his handsome face. “Um, four days,” he answered, his hand unknowingly inching a little bit closer to Tony’s. “I- We were worried that you weren’t going to wake up. You know how Loki can be. We thought that he might have put some spell on you or-”

    “Well, Capsicle, I’m awake,” Tony interrupted, his tone gentle and soothing. It took Steve a moment to realize that Tony was trying to comfort him despite the fact that he was the one currently sitting in a hospital bed after being kidnapped and beaten. And the thought of that nearly broke his heart.

    “Oh, Tony,” Steve murmured, suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. He buried his head in his hands, trying to come to terms with the millions of thoughts and feelings currently swarming through his mind.

   “Um, Steve? Hey, hello. Look, I’m okay now! A bit bruised and tired but nothing that a hot cup of coffee won’t fix, right? Right, Cap?” Tony questioned uncertainly, sounding rather worried by the fact that Steve had yet to remove his arms from his head.

   And then Steve felt a slight pressure on one of his hands, which just had to be Tony once again trying to comfort him. At that, Steve just kind of lost it. “My God, Tony,” he croaked, voice slightly muffled as he lifted his head to glance back up at Tony. “This world does not deserve you.” And then, without even thinking about his next actions, Steve kissed him.

   He wasn’t even entirely sure how it happened. One moment he was kneeling at Tony’s bedside, overwhelmed by how perfect that man was, and the next he was up on the bed, hands tangled in his messy hair and kissing him. And it was nice. In fact, it was more than nice. It was beautiful, breathtaking, incredible. It silenced the longing that had been plaguing Steve’s heart for almost as long as he could remember. Tony’s lips were soft and warm, and it just drove home the fact that he was here and alive and finally, finally, safe again. Relief seized a hold of Steve and he pulled Tony even closer to him, kissing him with even more fervor than before. He would have kept going forever, completely content to finally have Tony in his arms, but then he remembered, serum or not, he was still human and humans needed to breath and good God did Steve need to breath. So, he broke away, leaning back slightly so that he could see Tony’s face and gauge his reaction. And what he saw brought him back to reality much faster than he would have liked.

   Tony’s skin had gone ghostly pale, his eyes widening to the point that they looked like they were going to pop right out of his head. He was panting heavily as well, his lips nervously quivering as he stared at Steve. But the thing that happened to scare him the most was the terror that was flashing in Tony’s eyes. The complete and utter fear that was now seizing control of his features. It was at that moment that Steve realized what he had just done.

   “Shit,” he whispered, scrambling away from Tony so fast that he nearly fell off the bed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m sorry, Tony. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t… I wouldn’t… Oh God…” he rambled, his cheeks flushing a hot, fiery red.

   “Steve.” Tony’s voice was so soft, so gentle that Steve could just feel his heart breaking into a million different pieces.

   “I know, I know. I’ll- I’ll just go,” Steve blurted, swallowing hard as he attempted to stop the tears that threatened to spill. He was about to stand when Tony spoke again.

   “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Rogers?” he growled, all tenderness completely gone from his voice. But then, despite the fact that he was sporting two broken ribs, Tony Stark crawled across the bed, slid one hand behind Steve’s neck and kissed him right back.

   So many emotions began washing over him at once, each one doused with a nice healthy dose of unadulterated relief. Steve, once again, tangled his fingers in Tony’s hair, pulling him even closer. Now that he had him, there was no way he was ever letting go again.

   Until the clapping started.

   “Bravo! Bravo!” Thor boomed, wildly clapping his hands from somewhere behind the pair. “Natasha, I do believe you now owe me 100 American dollars!”

   “Shut up, Thor!” Natasha hissed, as Steve and Tony broke apart to glare at the other four Avengers.

   “Do you need something?” Tony inquired, his right arm still slung along the back of Steve’s neck.

   Clint smirked. “Well we were just stopping by to see whether you were awake or not but you seem to be a bit…” he paused, dramatic as ever, that little shit, “preoccupied.”

   Natasha rolled her eyes before promptly grabbing a hold of Clint (Who whined in protest as her hand clamped down on his shoulder)  and Thor, who was still watching the pair with a jolly twinkle in his eyes. “Come on boys, let’s give these two a little alone time,” she ordered, literally having to drag them out of the room with Bruce obediently following close behind.

   “Now,” Tony began, turning back around and grinning mischievously at Steve. “What were we talking about again?”  

[the-exploring-kat-blog]

Law of attraction

I 100% believe in the law of attraction. Maybe I'm doing it wrong lately but idk what the fuck is going on in my life. Am I only allowed to have one part of my life get better at a time or something? Is that a rule that I'm unaware of? If so, I'd love to know asap because I'm feeling like I'm starting to go a little crazy. And not a good crazy.

Basically this entire year I have been fucked financially. It has been horrible and I haven't been able to afford anything. I've been borrowing too much money from my mom but I had no other option. I was applying and applying to TONS of jobs for basically the entire summer since my boss cut my hours at my job down to 10 hours a week making minimum wage aka $10 so I'm sure you can do the math to figure out I was making shit for money and it makes total sense why I had to borrow so much money from my mom.

Now I've finally got two new jobs both of which I'll be making tips at since they're serving jobs so I'll be making WAY more than I have been the last 7 months of this year. So that part of my life, the financial part of my life, I don't have to stress out nearlyyyyy as much about and even tho I still don't have money right now, I know that's going to change within the next couple of weeks so lots of stress has already gone away. Most of what I think about now is that I'm going to finally have a litttttle cushion with money to do stuff and buy essentials and I feel better!

The part of my life I'm currently unhappy with is the relationship aspect, or lack-there-of... I met this guy totally unexpectedly the day after my 25th birthday and as cliche as it may sound, I connected with him more than I've connected with ANYONE since my ex and I feel like I already fell for him a little bit. But I also have GOOD REASON. He said multiple things that lead me on to believe he was interested in being in a relationship with me. There's no way I misunderstood the things he said to me. And when we hung out together, he was soooo affectionate.

The problem? We were supposed to hangout last week and he simply forgot... I get it that most guys are dumbasses and extremely forgetful but come on man.... knowing you're having a girl come over to hangout and cuddle and do other fun stuff... how the fuck do you seriously forget? Guys pop boners HOW MANY TIMES A DAY? He definitely HAD to have thought of me and remembered us hanging out at some point or at least thought about wanting to. But when he just claimed to have forgotten we were hanging out and blamed it on being busy... you got me fucked up if you think I'm gonna keep chasing your fucking ass. So I left the ball in his court and made it known. It's been a week now and he has not gone out of his way to text me at all.

So then, while trying to put him out of my mind, it's made me a little emotional and in general, I want to cuddle with someone... you can't go three days straight cuddling the same person and being led on to then just nothing at all.. I love cuddling. So I ask someone else if he wants to cuddle so instead of just saying yes or no, he asks all these follow up q's and then ends it off saying "I don't want you catching feelings or something". K. So this just pisses me off. I understand. I get it. But I didn't ask to fucking DATE the guy and have babies with him... I asked if we could CUDDLE. So because this immature fuckhead annoyed the absolute shit out of me, I completely dropped considering him and found someone else I've hung out with one other time and we hung out tonight and literally just watched a movie and cuddled...

Here's the catch... I don't consider it cuddling. He was laying on his back with his arm out and I was laying on his arm... very uncomfortably. Not because I wasn't comfortable with him in general but because it was seriously hurting my neck. I even made a comment that he could spoon me (just in case he was just being superrrrr respectful and not touching me at all!?!) but he said he couldn't because it hurts his shoulder and he has to lie on his back... I had to make up a lie to not feel as bad about dipping out after the movie when it seemed like he was expecting me to stay the night.

I had to question myself: am I just being really fucking picky? Is there something wrong with me?

How is it that I came out of a really shitty ex-relationship as overweight and depressed as I was, even thinking suicidal thoughts and now I'm the strong, confident, independent woman I've become, and I'm FINALLY ready for a relationship, and now I feel like every single thing that's coming my way is either denying me (quite literally) or I don't feel a connection with any other guy.

I trust the universe. I know we all have a path. I know everything happens for a reason and on a DAILY fucking basis I keep trying to remind myself of that. I've been veryyy patient and when I kept trying to look for something or someone and push wanting a relationship in the past, I acknowledged that I first had to work on myself and then I could be in a relationship again when I was READY. Ok, so now, I AM READY. I keep telling the universe. I keep imagining the guy I want to be with. I have a vision board hanging on my bedroom wall I see every single day that has photos of couples and being in a relationship and love. I don't mean to rush things but WHY AM I STILL SINGLE. This probably sounds sooo desperate but I am pushing 4 years and 3 months of being single and I'm sooooo tired of being alone and lonely 😞😢😢😢 I know I'm ready. And I know what I deserve. THATS why I'm still single. Bc I don't and won't settle. But fuck. What the fuck. Why would I meet this guy I really like just to get shit on and denied by him? I don't get it. This sucks. It sucked a little of my confidence out of me. And I'm trying to not allow it to but it hurts. I know eventually I'll look back at this most likely and laugh or think "omg I can't believe I was hung up on that guy and felt the way I did about him and how he treated me.." but I'm currently living in the moment and these feelings fucking suck.

Fuck everything right now.. I know that isn't positive whatsoever and not attracting good things but I'm sad so I'm just going to smoke some weed and watch How I Met Your Mother because at least those two things make me happy (at least permanently..) and laugh so I'll feel happy..er. 😞😞

Come on universe... I'm on your side. I trust in you. I believe everything happens for a reason... but could you speed up me meeting a cool and significant guy so I can stop feeling so goddamn lonely and sad?