#flat space feels wrong now why how why did i do this to myself

[rhoselacksthorns]

girl help I spent all day trying to figure out a way of mapping coordinates to a hyperbolic space in a way that a computer would like and all I got for it is an iterative fractal 2d array design to simulate a {5,4} tiling, the inability to stop thinking of and seeing things as being in hyperbolic space despite me definitely still being in normal happy not meaningfully curved space I'm pretty sure, and a really bad fucking headache

[jaylaxies]

TEASER: ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst.

word count: estimated 15k words. (currently 8k)

teaser wc: 748 words!

synopsis: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, but having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roomie friends had their club’s exchange program? that was your final straw.

warning: the fic will contain 18+ content, minors dni.

a/n: hihi loves <3 sorry for the delay but the fic is getting longer than intended! so i’ll just leave a little teaser as something to compensate while i finish writing. also, the given teaser is unedited, changes might be included in the fic <3

taglist is open! comment/send an ask to be added <3 (make sure to have your age visible on your blog! blank blogs will not be added to the tl)

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smirk present on his face.

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.

“Can’t move?” He teased.

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.

Messing with you was one thing.

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt.

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Daryl Dixon, born to be a sweet mamas boy but forced into severe mommy issues. I will literally bury myself in this grave

Like okay sure the bad biker boy with a dominant streak is hot or whatever but realistically under all those layers of steel and dirt there’s nothing but a damaged boy.

I think about Daryl dating a woman of a motherly nature and how it would utterly fuck with his head. She’s more on the traditional side and usually expresses her love through cooking as well as baking.

At first, he doesn’t like any of it at all. The way you always want to cook for him when he literally didn’t ask you really bothers him, to the point he found himself not eating whatever you made out of sheer stubbornness, not knowing each plate was your indirect way of affection.

He doesn’t like the way you persistently try and get him to talk to you, because why do you even care? Sometimes the two of you will argue and Daryl will just storm away after a string of insults. He feels so gulity afterwards, especially when he knows that he really does need someone to talk to.

The hugs are the worst. The way you suddenly hug him makes his skin burn and he fucking hates it. Not physically, but he pushes you away. It’s what he wants of course, to not be around you and your forced niceness.

It’s what he wants of course, to be alone by himself. No background noises or smells. He can’t hear the way you passionately move around the kitchen or smell the mouthwatering smell of whatever you’re making. That’s what he wants.

When he comes back from a long run, so obviously shaken up and disturbed, there’s nobody to try and pry as to what happened even though he knows he needs to get it off his chest. That’s what he wants of course. He doesn’t need comfort, no. He never did. Never ever.

So why did he need it now?

Daryl thinks about you and how you did so much for him without him even lifting a finger, how you willingly put in the effort and he just threw it all back into your face without a second thought. He thinks about how hurt you he must’ve left you all the times he flat out refused even your prettiest dishes.

He thinks about the concern that etches your face when you practically beg him to talk to you, beg him to tell you what’s wrong so you can maybe help him. Daryl feels his chest tighten when he thinks of how he downright pushed you out his life, and feels a lump forming in his throat when he realizes that he needs you.

He was alone with only himself and his thoughts, ones that frightened him to his very core. He thinks about your hugs and how he yearns to feel the burn of his skin against yours.

Daryl wants to go to you, but he’s scared. He’s scared that you’ve already moved on and found someone better, someone worthy of a woman like you. He scared that you won’t want him anymore yet here he stands, nervously on your porch.

He’s not ready, no event in his life could have prepared him for this. He knocks with a shaky fist and can hear the sounds of his quick breathing.

The door opens just as widely as it always has, you standing there in your apron covered in flour. He thinks about turning around, you’re obviously busy with things much more important with him. As he opens his mouth to speak, you cup his face gently with soft floury hands as if insecpting it.

“Somethings bothering you”

Daryl nods, and he feels like he could melt into your hands.

You usher him inside, closing the front door and shuffling to the couch, dismissing his silent questions about his shoes. He joins you on the couch with a little space between you, he’s not sure how angry you are with him.

Daryl wants to apologize, he wants to beg for you to let him try again and let him do it right this time, but he just can’t find the words, twiddling nervously with his fingers in his lap. You watch him for a moment, reading his limited body movement before reaching up and brushing away a tear Daryl didn’t even know fell.

“Tell me what’s hurting you” You whispered, voice warm and comforting as your fingers danced across his cheek.

He found himself choking on the words, stuttering them out as he slightly flinched away from the contact although he desperately wanted it. “M-m’sorry. Fer being a dick to ya” Daryl mumbled, leaning back towards your hand. “I jus- I got scared”

You raised a brow. “You? Scared? Scared of me?”

He nodded. “I don’ understand wha’ ya want from me”

“I don’t want anything from you, Daryl… I just wanna take care of you and be there for you”

“Why? Why someone like me?” Daryl scoffed. “M’nobody”

“You’re somebody to me” You whispered.

“Wha’ did I do to deserve ya? Ya don’ even know me” He turned to you, the tip of his nose a light red and his eyes glassy.

You took his face between your hands once again, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. “But I do. I see it, Daryl. I can see all the hurt you’ve been through, everything you’ve pushed away, down, all of it. All you’ve ever known is pain and my sweet boy, I’m gonna take it all away for you” You smiled, pressing your forehead against his.

Daryl’s heart pounded so hard that he feared it would exploded, more full of love than its ever had the chance to be. You held him as if he was made of the most fragile glass, brushing your nose against his as he sniffled.

“I love you” Daryl suddenly blurted, because he had denied himself of the truth for so long. He wanted to be with you, wanted you to take care of him.

You gave him another smile, this time placing a gentle kiss to his chapped lips. “And I love you too. Say, I was in the middle of making a cobbler, but I just don’t have anyone to lick the spoon…”

Daryl raised a brow. “Is it peach?”

“Only cobbler I know how ta make” You tugged him off the couch, and he followed you into your beloved kitchen, stepping foot into it for the first time. He thinks about all the times he watched you twirl around, cooking something with love only for him to completely disregard it. The thought made him visibly upset. “Something wrong?”

“Jus’ wish I appreciated yer cookin’ more s’all” He mumbled, regret written on his face, even more when a twinge of hurt painted yours. It was clear as day his past actions really did hurt you.

There was an awkward moment of silence, before you handed Daryl a peach. “As long as you appreciate it now” He could almost cry from how many chances you willingly give you, chances he just didn’t deserve.

“Yeah. M’gon appreciate you too, how I should’ve from tha’ very start” Daryl whispered, biting into one of the sweetest peaches he’s ever had.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

oof I made myself cry and this isn’t even that good 😕😕

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[isagispuzzle]

congrats on 200!!! this is for ur event hehe

my favorite trope is just lots and lots of tension between ppl who clearly like each other AHHH ITS SO OMG

thank you and sorry for the wait!! building tension is still so difficult for me, so thank you for requesting this so i can push myself haha, hope you like it!! (also, it gets a little suggestive at the end. but what else would you expect with oliver)

oliver is not slick. he might think he is, given how many women he's easily won over, but when his teammates see their poor captain gazing longingly at their manager, they can only sigh.

it seems like the entire world but the two of you are aware of the feelings oliver and you harbour for each other, and to be frank, the u-20 team is absolutely sick of it.

ever since you joined them as their manager, they've stopped hearing about oliver's failed dates, and they've stopped catching oliver flirting with a new girl in the front rows after every one of their matches. instead, oliver has added a new line to his template interview responses, thanking their "dear manager" for the unwavering support, and he's added a new stop to his post-training journey, where he'll walk you home before he picks up his takeout dinner.

neru even overhears oliver asking you out for dinner once. you turned him down with a smile, citing you already had plans, and told him to go ahead with the rest of the team. neru chokes when you tell oliver not to ask someone out for dinner with such a smile on his face, because he'll give them the wrong idea.

(of course, oliver didn't invite the others to dinner after that.)

neru tells the others about this, and they're equally as frustrated and perplexed, because how could you be brushing off oliver's advances if you were into him too? beyond that, why was oliver hiding behind the excuse of a dinner instead of flat out asking you out on a date? did he not notice the way your feelings bled into the way you treated him, versus the rest?

of course, the team knows you try your best to be professional and fair. they have no complaints about your care for them, other than the sickly sweet smile you'd have on your face when you go up to oliver first after every game to tell him good job, or the way you lean into his space and hang off every last word he says, or the way your eyes always stick to him like magnets whenever he's in the room. maybe to add one last complaint, they can't stand how you don't realise oliver does all that back to you too.

the u-20 team, excluding oliver and you, gather for dinner that night and conspire. they put together their observations of the two of you and assert their theories on why you're still not together yet, despite the obvious spark and oliver's usual straightforwardness. it's a rather comical scene, the nine boys speculating and gossiping about their captain's love life with seriousness that easily measured up to their post-match debriefs.

they leave their dinner-turned-conspiracy-meeting satisfied with their conclusion that perhaps, you brush off oliver's advances as just a part of him because you know about his flirtatious tendencies, and perhaps, oliver is getting discouraged by your lack of reciprocity, which is why he doesn't push you as much as he normally would.

what they don't know is that your rejections have only made oliver more intrigued and mindful of your boundaries, things he hasn't cared much about in the past, and they have only made him more addicted to the chase. oliver knows he'll have to work doubly hard to make you look his way, not as a part of the u-20 team but as a man, so for now, he'll revel in your scent when he leans in to help you with your bags. for now, he'll savour the fleeting touches of your fingertips when you carefully tape his knee.

because once he breaks down your walls, he'll be able to do everything he's been dreaming of to you.

[valas-illyn]

When I come to, I'm laying on some kind of hospital bed. My hands are cuffed to the sides. I don't immediately remember where I was before this, how did I get here? Where is here?

The lights in here are low, but still bright enough. The now opening door reveals a comparatively blinding hallway, and a silhouetted figure composed of writhing vines. Something about the perspective seems off, but I can't make it make sense.

Someone, somewhere, in another room is scared, terrified even. Angry too. Bursting with emotions, they want to scream and sob and thrash and rage. It sounds like a lot.

I just feel tired.

The thing moves into the room, and the door slides blessedly shut.

Affini. That's the word. Suddenly the perspective clicks into focus and the room makes sense. Affini are 10ft tall alien plants with a penchant for keeping other sapients as pets, the room is sized for them which is why everything feels wrong. I'm tall for a human but I'm not that tall, the bed is human sized though so it must be on some kind of raised platform.

My mind drifts off again, lost in visualising the technical specifications for a 5ft high hospital bed. Extra trains of thought spinning off into imaging what other situations one would even be needed, or in the comical image of a human nurse trying to wheel one about. Yknow, they're always complaining that they don't have enough space on the wards, with a 5ft high one you could have modular bunk beds that just roll over each other, you could double the capacity of a hospital. You'd have to add teeth to each leg and an electric winder to hoist it up and down though. Maybe some kind of quick release mechanism for emergencies? You could-

"Petal?" The affini is standing over me, the voice is... Soft. Not quite feminine, but maybe feminine by their standards, what do I know? Do affini even have male and female? Well, it'll do for now. Her voice is a gentle rustling rasp that I can barely believe is capable of human speech. "Petal, it's time to wake up."

I roll my head towards her. The someone is getting loud again. "I'm awake." My voice is flat, lifeless. Too deep. It sounds wrong.

She seems to shrink, like she's slumped. Relief? Despair? Maybe she's just tired too. How do you read the body language of a bush? "Good, I am Luminara Verdis, fourth bloom. Pronouns she/her. What should I call you?"

I was right, feminine. I try to answer, but instead I just yawn. Long and deep.

"still a little sleepy? Let's give you something to clear those sedatives out of your system." *She leans over and a loop of vine extends towards my neck. A light glints off the end of a sharp, needle-like point dripping with something viscous.

Sudden and visceral. An emotion floods through me, but I couldn't put a name to it. I yell "No!" far louder than I intended as I throw myself away from her, straining against my bonds. I realise my legs are bound too.

The bed wobbles and she holds it steady with a vine, preventing me from tipping it over in my... Panic? Panic. That's what it is. Somewhere deep inside, a part of me sees the absurdly tall bed again and wants to chuckle, another part of me notes the axis of the tilt and the centre of gravity, and mentally confirms the platform hypothesis.

"ok, its ok petal. Calm down." She makes a show of taking the needle away but I keep my eyes in her. My breathing is ragged now. My ribcage feels like it's shuddering.

"No needles." My voice is as shaky as the rest of me, but I say it with some force. I would be pleased by that if only I knew why I seemed to be so upset.

I settle back into the bed and try to rub my face with my hand, only I can't because it's still cuffed to the bedframe.

"No needle." She agrees. Her voice is full of pity, sorrow. She's making an effort to be gentle with me, I can tell that much.

A voice in the back of my mind whispers "needle. Singular. No promises past now." I tell it to be quiet.

"i- I'm awake now." My voice is steadier now, my body more controlled. The panic has faded, gone off to that other room. I can ignore it now.

"I can see that, I'm so sorry for startling you petal but I promise you I'm here to help. What's your name?"

"I'm- i-" my voice falters as my mind scrabbles for answers. "I don't know. I can't remember, there- there was more than one I think?" I know I should be frightened, or concerned.by this. But I'm not. I dont have the energy for it now the adrenaline has worn off, instead I'm just... A bit perplexed.

If I could read plant faces... I'm assuming she is showing the concern that I'm not feeling. I had best stop that before it becomes something, like another needle. "I-it'll come back to me, it always does. I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

She shows me a smile and says "Luminara. Lumi, if you like."

I smile back and tug at my restraint again. I really want to rub my face and it's bothering me that I can't. "Why am I chained to the bed?" I try to hide the frustration from my voice, transmuting it into concern instead.

"it's for your own safety, flower. Do you remember what happened?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. She chuckles.

"I guess not. You were in an accident before we rescued you. You were badly hurt and terribly confused, and you kept trying to attack the vets. They didn't know if you would still be violent when you woke up."

That makes sense. I have brief flashes of pseudo-memory; fear, anger, terrible terrible pain. I dont think it was an accident though. It feels like it was going on for a long time...

I shiver, and shake the sensation from my head. I'm still tugging on the cuff gently, I'm not sure I can stop, the feel of it is keeping me calm.

"I don't think I want to remember... Could you untie me please? I just need to rub my eyes."

[klausysworld]

can you do one where the reader breaks down because she feels like all her and klaus do is have sex and he doesn’t value her so he takes her out on a date to prove how much he loves her? thank you so much if you can, i know you get a lotttt of requests!!

I love you

I was currently sat in a hair salon with Rebekah, she said she was trying to make Marcel jealous so she needed her hair done, i decided i’d have mine styled too, Klaus would be more likely to notice me if i make myself prettier.

Sometimes he doesn’t really seem to pay much attention to me…he sort of just walks past, it’s kind of like i’m a ghost. Well until he’s horny and suddenly i’m the most interesting thing on the planet. If i wore something tight he’s already got his hands on me, mouth on mine and he’s telling me how much he loves me. I’m just not sure if it’s me or my body that he loves, would he leave me if he find someone better? Somebody with a little more curve to their shape? clearer skin? softer hair? maybe if i wore a little more makeup he’d be more appreciate?

“Hellooo?? Y/n you there? Hi, hey, thought i lost you for a minute there…are you okay? You’re um well you’re crying…” Rebekah’s eyes were wide and she had a tissue held out for me which i quickly took and dabbed my eyes

“no yea i’m fine sorry, was just lost in thought or whatever” she nodded but i knew she didn’t believe me, thankfully she moved on and we pretended that it didn’t happen

On the drive back home we fell into a silence which unfortunately she broke

“why were you upset earlier? You know you can tell me right? i can keep my mouth shut every now and then”

i sighed and glanced out the window silently debating whether to lie or not

“don’t lie, you know i can tell when you lie”

brilliant.

“it’s not a big deal” i muttered, i could already feel her eyes burning into my head

“it’s my stupid brother isn’t it? did he do something? say something? look whatever it is he probably didn’t think before he did it” her eyes rolled and she continued her ramble as i blanked her out and stared into space.

By the time we got back she seemed to be coming to an end of her rant

“…point is i think Marcel is lying to himself because he is so clearly in love with me” she stated as she jumped out the car. I stayed sat there for a second trying to comprehend how we went from me being upset to her and Marcel but ended up just shrugging it off and following her inside.

Later that day Klaus had come home, a brief glance my way before he made his way to his art room. I didn’t see him again until i was headed upstairs to sleep, he was already sat in the bed with his phone in hand and shirtless. Once i closed the door his head perked up and he tossed his phone to the side, a smirk forming on his face as he reached over and pulled me to sit next to him

“you look unbelievable today my love, utterly ravishing” he whispered huskily, already pinning me down so i was flat on my back and he hovering over me.

Despite the fact he was complimenting me i couldn’t help the way my eyes began to sting with tears.

His lips were on my neck and his hands sliding under my top, hips rolling against mine while i quietly wiped my eyes hoping i didn’t smudge my mascara.

“i wish i could have you like this forever” he whispered. While trailing his mouth further down my body. His eyes were focused on my breasts and hands smoothing over my thighs.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He spread my legs wide and undid the button at the top of my shorts.

“i love you” he murmured while kissing down my torso and that seemed to do it. I sniffed a little too loud, a fear tears falling as his head shot up. Eyes wide and lips parted as he quickly redid the button up and fixed my top

“love- did i hurt you? what’s wrong?” he asked quickly, his hands holding my face as he sat up both up with me in his lap straddling him. My hands swiped at my cheeks aggressively to rid the myself the tears

“nothing, you didn’t do anything, i’m sorry i’ll just fix myself in the bathroom a second and we’ll carry on” I hurriedly pushed myself off of him and rushed into the bathroom, i went to lock the door but he was already pushing his way inside.

“y/n…you don’t have to be sorry for being upset…can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly moving to touch my face but i automatically took a step back which instantly made me feel bad as i watched the hurt sink into his expressions

“nothing’s wrong just go back to bed and i’ll come back in a second, you can undress yourself to pass the time” i muttered looking at the floor, the sour tone i used made me wince and shut my eyes with a sigh

“did i touch you somewhere you didn’t like or something? love you need to tell me if i’ve hurt you, i’m not going to leave you when you’re crying, i love you” He was walking towards me and i couldn’t stop from moving back

“no you don’t” i whispered as my back his the wall and he came to a halt in front of me

“what? of course i do- Y/n would you look at me, i’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do, if you want me to keep my hands to myself fine but please you can’t pretend i’m not here”

“why not? you always pretend i’m not there” my gaze returned to his, he was shocked, confused and somewhat annoyed which made me more pissed off than sad

“when have i ever acted like you weren’t there?” he asked a little harsher this time

“literally all the time Klaus! you barely speak to me, look at me, we don’t do anything together until you want me in your bed. I am not your personal whore Klaus, it’s the 21st century, if you just want a sex service you can go pay for it, heaven knows you can afford it” i could feel myself building walls back up around my heart, i wasn’t crying anymore, i wasn’t against the wall, we were in the middle of the room, i must’ve stepped forward a few times.

I waited for him to yell back, to call me a liar or to storm off but he just stood there silently, his eyes slowly softening and his brows pulling together as he took a step back to put distance between us

“y/n, i don’t think of you as anything like that…i’m sorry that i don’t pay you much attention, it’s not that i don’t value our relationship or don’t want ti be around you. I do love you, i love your body yes but i only learnt to love that after i had already given my heart to you. If you don’t want to have sex then we won’t but you have to tell me, i don’t want you saying yes because you feel like you have to, i ask for a reason. And spending more time together would be lovely but you forget that you rarely approach me either, you could join me in my art room whenever you like, i could paint you or draw you as well.”

“the only times i’ve come to your art room, you’ve painted me naked, please Klaus if you don’t actually love me just tell me i can’t do this, please don’t make me do this” i whispered, my hands now on my face as i felt the tears coming back.

Two arms were around me, one rubbing my back and another lightly scratching my scalp

“I love everything about you. I love the faces you pull when you silently judge people, i love how you deny that you do that and then gossip about it to Rebekah. I love that you throw a fit whenever there’s a spider and i have to kill it while you cling to my back, i love that you play your music unbelievably loud when you’re in the shower to drown out your own singing which isn’t as bad as you think. I love when you dress up but i also love when you wear sweatpants and a hoodie, no makeup and your hair a mess, i love the way your face rests when you sleep, the way you mutter random sentences when unconscious. I just love you”

my arms were now around his neck as i breathed him in, i wasn’t sure how much i believed him but i also knew that i loved him and he wouldn’t say everything if he didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t pay enough attention to those things if he didn’t care. If i was just there for his pleasure then he wouldn’t let me live in his house, become close to his family and do what i want.

“How about i take you out hm? We can do anything you want, we can go somewhere fancy if you’d like, a restaurant or something. Of you’d rather we stay in and eat greasy food in our pyjamas we can do that too” he offered while lifting me so my legs were around his waist while he picked out one of his tops and a some of my comfier underwear before placing me on the chair in the bathroom and pulling out the makeup wiped from the drawer

“can i think about it?” i asked quietly while he gently wiped at my face, i could see the foundation coming off on the cloth and i looked away, i had been wearing a lot more recently, and i could feel his distress as well

“of course you can, take as much time as you need” he whispered as he pulled out my pot of clay face mask. He carefully put my hair into a low ponytail and pushed the stray hairs back with the headband as he adjusted it on my head. He applied an even amount across my face before moving to take my top off, he faltered and hesitantly looked to me

“i won’t touch, i was just going to change your clothes, you can do it, i’ll wait in the other room” i grabbed his wrist before her could leave and kept him seated

“it’s fine, you can do it” i mumbled and he nodded with a small ‘okay’ before slipping my top off, eyes trained on my face as he made sure not to let the face mask on the new shirt he was pulling over my head. He then pulled my shorts and thong down my legs and into the laundry hamper before pulling the softer underwear up my thighs. He suddenly vanished before returning, now wearing joggers and a t-shirt.

“what would you like to do for fifteen minutes while we wait for this to dry?” he asked glancing at the pot to check he had the time right

“i dunno… you wanna read a book or something?” i think the disinterest if that idea was clear in my voice as my nose scrunched up

“well don’t you sound excited? Come on lets go get something to eat” He laughed as he scooped me into a bridal carry and ran at a human speed down the stairs to the kitchen making me giggle as i bounced in his arms. He spun me a few times before placing me on my feet and opening the fridge and humming

“we have…limited choices…we need to go shopping” he muttered, his voice showing disappointment as he closed the door and opened the cupboards

“biscuits? um…oh we have some chocolate, i can see marshmallows?” his head was basically in the cupboard as his hand dug around

“how’d you feel about making a hot chocolate with marshmallows for me to dip my biscuits in?” i asked with a big smile, looking at him with big eyes

“i can do that, let me just…” he shoved his entire arm to the side as he seemed to knock a bunch of things over before pulling it back out revealing the hot chocolate powder, he pulled everything he needed out before getting the milk pan out and pouring some in it. He turned the hob on and picked out two mugs.

We were now lead upstairs, my face mask had been washed off by the hybrid himself and he was now feeding me hot chocolate covered biscuits in bed.

“i think i know what we should do for a date” i told him as he stuffed a biscuit into his own mouth. He gestured for me to continue as he munched away

“well i think that- seeing as i always dress up and you turn up in jeans and a henley- that you should dress up in a tuxedo and i get to wear whatever i want, we’ll go to a restaurant for dinner and then come back and eat a shit tone of sweets for dessert, cakes, ice-cream whatever. Absolutely no sex, it’s off the table, we will watch a film and go to sleep, maybe a bath or shower if you can contain yourself around my naked body” he slowly nodded his head while he licked the remains of chocolate from his fingers

“tux, restaurant, dessert at home, no sex, bath, sleep. I can do all of those. When do you want me to book it for, and which restaurant? Also do you want to do online shopping or in store?“ he asked pulling out his phone and handing it to me, i pulled up my favourite place to eat and glanced at the dates available

“are you free Thursday?” i asked glancing at him

“i’m free any day you want” he mumbled as he ate another biscuit and i rolled my eyes, a smile pulling at my lips

“okay you wanna go at 6 or 7?”

“6, we can be there for up to an hour, takes 20 minutes to come back, we can get all the snacks together, bring the duvets downstairs and watch a film or two before having a bath and going to bed” he leaned over and clicked 6pm, we got the confirmation email and i switched over to do the online shopping

“online?” he questioned

“do you want to go in store? you hate when you get suck in the aisles because two people are chatting, a child is throwing tins of soup and an old person has left their thing in the middle” he blinked at me for a minute before smiling slightly

“i love you” he whispered, a grin now forming making me smile aswell

“i love you too”

By Thursday morning the food delivery had arrived, Klaus was filling the shelves with one hand and flipping a pancake with the other, i silently sat down at the kitchen island watching as he rushed about to grab different fruits from the fridge and cutting them up to put on top the pancakes, he quickly put some whipped cream on and some syrup before putting the kettle on. He slowly turned around placing the plate down before spinning back round to make two drinks, he was softly muttering to himself as he adjusted where everything was on the counter, still not realising i was there until he looked up. A small yelp left him as he jumped backwards making me burst out laughing

“jesus- how long have you been there!?”

“not long” i smiled and he pushed the plate towards me

“i don’t want you hungry but i also still want you hungry enough later for a luscious meal” he sat down opposite me watching intently as i took a bite of the food. To be fair it was pretty good and the pancakes had chocolate chips in them

“did you make ‘em or did you buy a mix?” i asked while covering my mouth with my hand

“made them of course, gosh who do you think i am?” he questioned dramatically with a hand over his heart

“my bad, my bad i forgot you were such a professional” he hummed and sipped his tea

“are we getting ready separately or together later?” he asked after i’d finished and we’d argued over who would wash up before Kol walked in and threw the plate on the floor declaring that it no longer mattered, Klaus made Kol clean it up.

“we can get ready together” i nodded and smiled at him slightly

“do you feel better…about everything?” he asked quietly while playing with my fingers

“i do…but i still worry that it’ll just go back to the way it was before..you know?” i looked down a little but his hands were now holding my face encouraging me to look at him

“i’m never going to treat you like that again, and if i ever were to make you feel less than you are i hope that you now feel comfortable enough to talk to me” he tone was soft but still somewhat firm while i rested my head in his warm hands

“thank you” i whispered, he leaned forward and kissed my head

“don’t thank me” he murmured

Finally it was time to leave, Klaus was very well dressed with his hair done properly and everything while i came down the stairs in jeans and a jumper, no makeup and my natural hair state.

“ready?” i asked and he practically beamed

“very much so” he whispered offering his hand for me to take

Once at the restaurant we ate, spoke about everything that had been going on in the world and payed we went for a small detour just wondering around the streets of the city. Neither of us had actually taken the time to appreciate it properly.

Once home we watched two films, my pick and then his while eating our chosen snacks before going upstairs

Klaus wasn’t sure about getting in the bath with me because he felt that id feel objectified if he looked at my body, i assure him that it was okay and we laid together for a little while, savouring the warmth of the bubble bath.

We now clung together in out bed, slowly drifting into sleep

“i love you y/n” he whispered against the top of my hair, his voice cracking slightly making me turn my head up, his eyes were glossy as he held onto me a little tighter

“i love you too…is everything okay?” i asked softly, wiping the stray tear that fell from his lashes away

“i’m really sorry you thought i was using you” he whispered and i pressed my lips to his

“it’s okay, just live in the now Nik, be happy for today, and everything that we’ve got right now”

“i love you”

“i know, i love you so much too”

[gor3sigil]

Detransition - My Story

[CW for Domestic Abuse, S*xual Abuse, Social Detransition, Misgendering, Alcoholism]

Recently, I watched “I Saw the TV Glow”, and it blew me away.

The ending really made me want to tell a story that happened to me.

Between the end of 2020 until the end of 2021, I detransitionned, mostly socially as I hadn’t started transitionning medically at the time. I did so because of many factors, and I never really wrote about it in details or reflected on it deeply as it was a very hard time for me. But I think that I now have enough hindsight as to why it happened and how it affected me to be comfortable sharing.

So, 2020 was a crazy year for everyone. I was in a T4T poly relationship, living with my partner of almost 5 years and started to go out with another trans dude. Long story short, because this isn’t about this, but I got into a physical altercation with my living partner during quarantine after years of emotional and verbal abuse, financial manipulation and isolation. I had to flee and live with my boyfriend for almost 8 months after leaving. And it was hell on earth.

I tried to not make a big deal out of what happened, but the fact of the matter was I had no place to call home, I was separated from my cat because she couldn’t live with us as my boyfriend’s place was a one room student flat and we struggled to live both of us here, and I had very little money due to not being able to work because of Covid.

What happened next to me leaving was constant harassment for weeks, the people whom I called friends siding with my abusive ex, and I felt so defeated. I couldn’t go back to my local trans community out of fear, and the community that I still had I struggled to trust again. I was supposed to start HRT before Covid hit, but it was cancelled. I got so much shit for just telling my story because so many people treated it as “slander” to accuse a trans woman of abusing me. I had receipts but never showed them, to protect her and myself. While she hurt me, she still was in a vulnerable position and it was out of the question to put her in danger. Let’s just say that I didn’t receive the same treatment in return and got lied about, harassed and bullied by people who thought she could do no wrong.

I started to totally lose trust in the community I used to feel safe in. And one day, I met a cis man. I talked to him, we got a coffee, he invited me to his place later, he got drunk and SAd me.

Two weeks passed, two excruciating weeks during which I felt so far away from everything and everyone, I coped by smoking a lot, I was in a deep dissociative state. I was disgusted, I felt so betrayed, I felt like I had no safe space. I still can’t explain why I did what I did, but after these two weeks, I still had the hoodie he handed me to go home, and I decided to meet him to give it back and talk.

He gaslighted me, using the fact that I was mentally ill to prove that I must have imagined what happened, and I believed him.

Meanwhile, I started getting nasty comments from my boyfriend and his friends for going out with a cis man.

Let me say that again.

My boyfriend was not upset that I was putting myself in danger, that I was starting a relationship with someone who had abused me, that I was in deep distress and not trusting anyone from my community anymore so I basically ran the other way, in the polar opposite way, with someone who treated me like a woman and called my desire for top surgery “mutilation”. What he was the most upset about was that I was going out with a cis man.

I became a running joke.

And when I told him that I had slept with my new boyfriend, he told me that I had “slept with the enemy”.

We had a two weeks break, after which I broke up with him for good. I had my own flat, and I was so fucking traumatized about what had happened with my ex and the vitriol I received for my new relationship that I decided it was enough. I was trying so hard to fit in my local trans community, that barely supported me when I got abused, and now what was left of it shat on me for going out with a cis man, it was the last straw.

For a year, I was having the most isolated relationship I ever had.

J, my new boyfriend, was my world. He told me that I thought I was trans out of fear. That it was a lie. That I just was scared of being abused again so I decided that to become a man was to be safe, but it was not. That all I felt was internalized misogyny I could work on, find my inner feminine self again and be happy as a woman. And I believed him. Oh, how I trusted him. I was not even in my mid twenties yet and he was in his early thirties, he must know better. I started using my deadname and feminine pronouns again. I bought dresses, skirts, even wore make up on occasions.

For a year, I killed myself. Slowly but surely. I was a full blown alcoholic, the relationship was becoming more and more abusive and isolating, I spent most of my time with him, most of the time we were drunk, most of the time things weren’t consensual, and it became my new normal.

I was retraumatizing myself. Relieving things I lived in the past because I felt so betrayed.

I had no friends left, the only one I still had didn’t hear about me until the end of my relationship with J. One time I saw her in the street, I was drunk, and J corrected her when she called me “he”. Said it was “she” now. And I said nothing.

We were in a poly relationship, and after the one year mark, after a few traumatizing hookups with random dudes on Tinder, I found my current partner. And when I started to get treated like I deserved to be, I started to snap back. I started fighting back when J acted out, I started seeing the dark place I was in.

Two things made me realize how bad I had been lying to myself.

The first one was a TikTok trend, the one with the song “My Little Dark Age”. The first time I saw a trans man doing this trend with photos of him being himself, then going back to the closet, and in present times, out. “Just know that if you hide, it doesn’t go away”. I sobbed uncontrollably for hours after seeing it.

The second one was one time, drunk, with my partner, I was telling them about the “time where I was trans”. And I was telling them about binders, and offered to show them how it was when I was wearing it. I had thrown away everything I had related to being trans in a cardboard box. I took it out and put it on. Looked at myself in the mirror. And burst out in tears. My partner hold me while I said in between sobs: “how could I do this to myself ?”, “it feels so right, why does it feels so right ? I though I’d be happy as a woman !”. And I cried and cried and cried.

Two weeks later I changed my name again. 2 months after, I broke up with J.

I wanted to tell this story as a cautionnary one. I know that I failed myself. But I can’t help but think that I was also failed in a way. By my community, by the spaces I was in both online and IRL. I am not blaming the individuals. This isn’t about “detransition”. This is about care.

This is a reminder to care. To be kind.

I don’t regret what happened. It’s part of me now. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out if, instead of making fun of me for going out with a cis man, my then friends would’ve asked me kindly why I decided to go out with him. What changed in my mind between the night he SAd me and now. Or just offered a shoulder to cry on. What would’ve happened if I had been offered support for the trauma I was going through, if I hadn’t been told that in the end, J had won, he “have gotten what he wanted”.

“Why is it always so easy for cis men, to get what they want ?”

And in these statements, I became an object. A “want”. And I think that’s one of the main reason I lost every ounce of trust I had left in people who swore they were on my side and had my back.

You may not understand why people make some decisions. But please, before any politics get involved, remember than whose around you are people. Human. With complicated and sometimes conflicting feelings. Flawed. And worthy of your understanding.

This is about not letting politics and theories make you forget to care for one another, to protect each other, and to be here. It can change everything.

[liondrakes]

Nonhumanity: A Change of Pace

by Sivaan of Candlekeep

This post was written for the following challenges created by @/who-is-page:

Day 29 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge

Day 7 of the Folcintera Week Challenge

7. Some view their nonhumanity as a blessing, while others view it as a curse— where do you fall on this spectrum? What are your opinions about your personal nonhumanity? Are you grateful for it? Would you rather not be nonhuman at all? Why do you feel this way?

My nonhumanity is neither a blessing nor a curse. It's my life. Simple as that. As life goes, it has its highs and lows. My nonhumanity yields plenty of complexities, just by how confusing polymorphism can be. At the same time, my nonhumanity has its moments of simplicity. This morning, I watched Wild Africa and became an oryx upon watching members of my species spar with each other. For the time being, it was nice. No questioning or doubting, just me, Sivaan the scimitar-horned oryx. As I type this, I am now a Gemsbok.

I think the best way to describe my nonhumanity is transformative. It is a massive change of pace from everything I’ve ever known. Honestly, I can say this about my alterhumanity as a whole— not just in terms of my species! I’ve garnered all sorts of lifestyle practices and philosophies to experiment with, thanks to my alterhumanity. However, I’ll dial back a bit for clarity’s sake. Nonhumanity is the focus of this question.

Through discovering and exploring myself in this way, I feel like I'm approaching everything with a fresh perspective. I can say wholeheartedly that becoming a part of this community has given more meaning to my life and how I engage with the world around me. Becoming more involved also pulled me out of my slump as a writer. College drained me of any drive I had. I've scrapped manuscript after manuscript while trying to complete undergrad. I did it, thankfully. Yet, I also grew distant with the craft I've loved since I was a child.

My journey as a transspecies beast gave me the opportunity to write again. This time, it wasn't for a deadline or a grade. It was for me. I am grateful that I revisited these feelings from my teenage years. If I hadn't met my nonhuman friends along the way, and decidedly took the chance to embrace my identity, there's no telling if I'd even have the motivation to write again.

I imagine my life wouldn't be all "doom and gloom" if I hadn't revisited my past with this community. That said, I do believe I'd feel like something was missing. Perhaps, I'd pick up something else to fill the void. I did mention the likelihood of me becoming a furry lifestyler in my previous response. Or, there's always the possibility of the community finding me again. After all, TikTok has a pretty sizable group of therians. Granted, there's the problems of that platform to consider. Those spaces are rich with things that annoy me such as old discourse being recycled, outdated or even flat-out wrong definitions, and the appeasement of anti-kin/therian humans. Regardless, those are possibilities that didn't come into fruition.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: "What if" moments are hard to speculate on. I'm better off leaving them be as passing thoughts.

I'll tell you what's not a "What if" moment, though. I finished one writing challenge, and tomorrow, I will finish another. Looks like killing two birds with one stone truly did work out. This is the first writing challenge I've finished since high school. Do I have my nonhumanity to thank for that or myself? The way I see it, it's a little bit of both!

[lovenotesxcitygirls]

Why Am I Even Writing This?

Honestly, I don’t know why I’m starting this blog. Writing about something as controversial as love and romance feels like stepping into a battlefield armed with nothing but a pen and a lot of opinions. But here I am, because as someone who genuinely loves connection and wants people to just get to the love already, it feels like the right thing to do.

I’m tired. Tired of the podcasts, the red-pill rants, the TikTok discourse where everyone talks but no one listens. And while I can’t explain why I feel the need to contribute to the noise, I figured I’d take a shot at adding something meaningful. People have been telling me for years, “You should start a podcast!” But let’s be real—I’m not a podcast person. The idea of sitting in front of a mic, trying not to cringe at the sound of my own voice? No thanks. I’d honestly probably ramble. Writing is my lane. Maybe one day this will evolve into a podcast, but for now, this is my space to think out loud, wine in hand.

It’s funny, though, because this has nothing to do with my career, my ambitions, or my five-year plan. People have even told me, “You’d make a great therapist!” And to that, I say: absolutely not. Shoutout to the therapists out there—I respect you, but I’m not built to sit and listen to people unpack their problems all day. What I am built for is love. Not just the rom-com kind, but love in its truest, rawest form: deep, unfiltered, messy, and magical.

How Did We Get Here?

There’s no shortage of theories about why modern love feels like such a disaster. Someone once told me, “Men are looking for women who no longer exist, and women are looking for men who don’t yet exist.” That hit me. Because honestly, it feels true.

Some people blame it on R&B—“Men aren’t out here begging anymore.” And listen, I laughed, but they weren’t wrong. Where’s the Keith Sweat energy, the Boyz II Men drama? Where are the love songs that make you want to call someone and cry?

Others say it’s because we’re living in unprecedented times. Women are independent in ways history has never seen before, and with the rise of AI and a rapidly changing world, the things we find valuable are shifting. We’re in a cultural transition, and everyone’s trying to figure out what love looks like when the old rules don’t work anymore.

What I Hope to Do Here

So, as I sip my wine and play the “Who is Jill Scott?”album (because yes, that album is still undefeated), I find myself wondering: How do we bridge this gap? How do we move past the noise and get to the heart of what love is supposed to be?

This blog isn’t about preaching, and I don’t have all the answers. I’m not here to tell anyone how to live their life or what their relationships should look like. But I do want to have real conversations about what love means today—the good, the bad, the confusing. I want to explore what it looks like to love deeply in a world that often feels shallow, to connect authentically in a culture obsessed with the next swipe, and to hold space for something real in the midst of all the chaos.

Maybe this space will grow into something bigger. Maybe it’ll just be a collection of thoughts and stories, scribbled down in between sips of wine. Either way, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s figure this out together.

[mx-smileo]

Hello guys!! I just want to address something real quick..., will be mentioning something that's been bugging me for a while, and has recently resurfaced because of the incompetence of @/littlehistorian to just accept they have done something wrong, and STOP MAKING PEOPLE FEEL BAD FOR SOMETHING YOU WONT ACCEPT YOU DID. 💀

This really quite annoys me...

what she is referring to in the image above is an incident where they took the idea and character of my CountryHuman china; who, if you dont already know, is the antagonist of my CHau; he harasses America at any chance he gets in a p3rv3rt3d way.

I've expressed my discomfort with hem making jokes such as these in my discord server, which was SUPOSSED to be a safe space for my friends and I, which at the time, I saw Historian as a friend.

Now, what is my problem with this if I am also using this character? Well, Historian was using this character, without permission, AND made recurring jokes of (S/H) about China with their OP countryhuman Oc.... which is the same age as them; 14, even thinking it was funny, normalizing it?? Like what the fuck.

first of all, I have never done that, and I never WILL do that, it is just downright horrible and gross, that OBVIOUSLY realize it's wrong, yet still jokes about it...

as a victim of it myself from close relatives- this agrovated me severely, but i tried to stay as civil as possible-

I had confronted them privately aswell, about how what they were saying, "reciting" even, was wrong, and that they shouldnt ever be saying stuff like that at ALL, since it is literally a form of gr00m1ng. They did not take well to this, however, as they victimised themselves near other friends that we share mutual friendships with, AND acted in self-sorrow. The image below is proof of this. You can also see that this was a while ago too.

seeing this topic coming back as Historian makes themselves the victim really aggravates me, and I WOULD keep this civil, IF It wasnt for the fact that they turned at least three of my friends on me and my server.

She also told nobody WHY she was kicked when they asked, making it sound as though she had done nothing wrong, making ME seem like the villain, as my (ex) friends constantly pestered and guiltripped me the way she did for kicking her out, as if I had forced her to lose contact with them.

Thank you for reading this, obviously this is only a shortened version of what has lead to this post, but I'm very thankful unlike some people you will be able to hear my side of the story :,)

I hadn't done anything of the sort, and had given her and others in my server OBVIOUS warnings beforehand, which they flat out ignored.

[salsedine]

15 Questions for "15" Friends

Tagged by @greypetrel - thank you! :*

Are you named after anyone?

50%-50%? My parents swear that they weren't influenced by Greta Garbo in any way or form - they just liked the name. Stella is for my great-grandmother (hungarian origins, archetype of the "strong woman of the family definitely born in the wrong era").

When was the last time you cried?

Last week. <- Same, wohoo! But it wasn't a big cathartic cry - kind of a disappointing one, really. Yes, I'm a Pisces, of course I sort the act of crying in different categories.

Do you have kids?

Premise: I don't hate kids, and I feel strongly about the fact that they should be more respected as individuals / human beings with their own agency. That being said, I'd rather torn my uterus apart with my bare hands. Or gift it to somebody who wants it. So no: I never wanted any.

What sports do you play/have you played?

Various - tennis for a few years, soccer at school, some athletics. But my love was (is?) dancing - I did modern jazz and then contemporary dance for about seven years. Currently I'm taking hatha yoga classes, which is quite painful most of the time - but necessary, since I have a full time office job and I'm glued to the chair.

Do you use sarcasm?

Me? Never ;)

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

How they move/occupy the space they are in: if they use a lot their hands while talking, how they laugh, their voice etc. I'm a "I first see the broader context and then the single detail" person. And no, I don't judge.

What’s your eye color?

Green/grey

Scary movies or happy endings comedies?

It depends on the definition of 'scary', I suppose. Since that's ambiguous, I'll go with comedies. The right answer is: period dramas, obviously.

Any talents?

I have a very strong memory (name/surname and voice and things they confessed to me of my classmates from Scuola Media, and that was 15+ years ago), which is both useful and anxiety-inducing. I have a pretty good balance, and with some stretching I think I can still put my foot behind my neck?

Where were you born?

In a hospital ;)

What are your hobbies?

Painting/drawing, swimming, photography, reading, trying to find plants that I won't manage to kill. And listening to music - I'm useless with instruments, tho. BUT I do have an electric guitar that my father gave me and I'd love to try to learn something, as soon as I'm not renting and I have a proper place.

Do you have any pets?

Does a seaweed (yes, a marimo) count as a pet? I grew up with a dog, and he died many years ago. Since then I had no pets. Now that I live on my own (very discreet flatmate aside) I'd like to have a cat, but I think it would be better to have a bigger flat, and just more space in general. I'd hate for them to feel bored and costricted, it doesn't feel fair. Right now I don't plan on getting another dog, for various reasons.

How tall are you?

My ID cards have different ideas: the new one says 168 cm, the old one said 170 cm. We shall never know!

Favorite subject in school?

Art history, history, philosophy, biology, and chemistry applied to fine arts.

Dream job?

AHAHA Anyway! Illustrator or teacher. Ideally both. I'd love to work in a museum too, since I already have some experience in that field. Overall, I guess that I need a mentally stimulating job that makes me feel like I'm doing something meaningful - in a way or another. (This is why I briefly considered looking into art therapy, but knowing myself I'd just feel like a huge fraud). ...and I just noticed that all my dream jobs are based on communication (either through visual arts or...talking?) and relating to other people, which is hilarious considering my whole self.

Tag time! :D Maybe @birdkeeperklink - @pyritefes2 & @mafaldinablabla could be interested? Absolutely no pressure tho, feel free to skip this if it's not your thing!

Byeeee

[bibliophile-dendrophile]

I've been lying awake on my bed for the last three hours. It seems that sleep decided to ignore me today. In fact, I haven't been able to sleep for quite a few days.

I slip into my jacket and sneak out of my hostel room. I jump over the wall and let my feet decide where to go. Tomorrow is Sunday. The college authorities would assume I had gone to see my parents. Or they wouldn't even notice I was gone. They would most probably think I was in my room, locked up as always.

I walk along the dark streets. After a while, I slow down. This path seems familiar. Then I spot the apartment and come to a complete halt. So this is where my feet led me. It's where she lives. A thousand memories flood in my mind. I realize I even have the spare key to her flat in this very jacket. I smile to myself. My subconscious knows me well.

I climb the staircase to the first floor and knock on her door. I wait a few seconds but there is no response. She must be sleeping. So I open the door with the spare key and step inside. I make my way to her bedroom. Somewhere a voice in my head is screaming that it is not proper to enter someone's bedroom without their permission but I quiet down the voice by justifying that neither is entering their house but I already did it. So I might as well do this, too.

As I expected, she's sleeping. I walk over to the bed opposite to hers and sit down. Then I look at her. Oh, her face looks so peaceful. Seeing her face now makes me realize how much pain and burden she's carrying. Bit right now, she looks like an innocent little girl. I have the sudden urge to kiss her. But I don't. I need to tell her about my feelings. Tell her that I love her. It took me so long to realize that fact. I put her through so much of pain I don't even know if she still loves me. I really hope she does.

Im still staring at her when I realize with a start that she's wearing nothing but a camisole and a pair of shorts. At the sight of her cleavage, I remember the time we spent up on my terrace. I feel myself harden at the memory. I have to restrain myself from pulling her into my arms. I quickly find a blanket and put it on her. If I was hoping that covering her body would stop my thoughts, I was wrong. Because I still want to invade her personal space. To run my hands all over her body. To press my lips to hers. To kiss-

I am pulled out of my reverie when I hear her make a pained sound. Suddenly, her face contorts. She looks like she's in agony. She having a nightmare. I quickly go into the kitchen to bring her a glass of water. By the time I come back to the bedroom, she is up. She has her head in her hands and her body is shaking. I go to her and gently rub her back. She startles and turns back. When she sees it's me, her body relaxes immediately. I smile.

"Hey. Bad dream?"

I pass her the glass of water and she takes it with a nod. She gulps and then asks,

"How come you're here in the middle of the night?"

Her voice has a tone I can't quite place. I say,

"Couldn't sleep."

She smiles but it looks sad and I don't know why. What if she doesn't want me here? I start feeling anxious but then she says,

"I'm glad you consider my place as somewhere you can go when you can't sleep."

Then she really smiles and just like that, my anxiety's gone.

"Let's watch a movie?" she asks.

I'm not interested but I find myself nodding anyways, "Sure."

She goes out of the room to fetch her laptop and when she returns, she's wearing a robe. I am disappointed.

She lays on her stomach, her hair tied up to make a messy bun and she scrolls through her laptop. She looks so goddamn sexy. I'm staring at her when she suddenly turns to me. I quickly look away and pretend to read the names of the movies on her laptop screen. She says,

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Shall we watch that movie?"

I realize that the cursor is pointed at a movie called 'A Wrinkle in Time' and she's asking if I'd like to watch that.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." I quickly say.

Around halfway through the movie, I drift off.

By the time I wake up, faint light is coming through the windows, so I know it's early in the morning. I'm about to move but I realize with a start that what I assumed to be a pillow under my head is her lap. I have a blanket on me and her hand is resting on my back. I must've fallen asleep like this. What makes me happy is that she didn't move away. She let me sleep on her lap. I want to do a happy dance.

I notice that her eyes are closed and her breathing is even. She's asleep. I don't want to wake her up, so I stay there. I don't move an inch. I could stay there forever if she wanted me to. If she let me.

After an hour or two, she stirs. I close my eyes impulsively. She slowly moves away but takes a pillow and rests my head on it. The weight on the bed shifts, so I know she's climbed off it. I'm thinking she's going to go out of the room when she plants a gentle kiss on my cheek and whispers,

"Sweet dreams, darling."

I take a sharp breath. My heart is pounding. I'm scared that she noticed but a gentle click on the door tells me she's gone. I lay there, my eyes wide open, for what feels like an eternity. She stopped calling me darling since our situationship ended. Even during that, she only ever used it while we were chatting. She never said that to my face. I love it. But the question is, does this mean she still loves me? There's only one way to find out.

I find her sitting in the balcony with a cup of coffee. She looking at the view outside. She looks beautiful.

"Laya?"

She turns at the sound of my voice and smiles, "Slept well?"

"Yeah."

She smiles again. I don't return it. Her smile falls. She's looking at me like she's trying to read me. She knows something is up. She always knows. I take a deep breath.

"I love you, Laya."

I carefully watch her reaction. She looks bewildered and just shakes her head. She thinks I'm kidding.

"I'm serious, you know."

Her eyes fill with unshed tears. She tries to stop them from falling. And for a minute, she looks actually angry.

"Don't- don't say stuff you don't mean."

The words are just a whisper. Then it all makes sense to me. She's scared. She thinks it's some sort of cruel joke the universe is playing on her. She's scared that her heart will be broken again. She has to know that I'll never let that happen. Never.

I step closer to her and I say,

"Look at me. Do you think I'm lying?"

Then she looks me in the eye. And she breaks. She starts shaking. She sobs. I put my arms around her and hold her tightly. She clutches at my shirt. She's like a little kid right now.

"Don't cry, akachan. It's gonna be alright."

We stay like that for a long time. Then, she finally says,

"So, I'm your akachan again?"

I laugh, "Yeah, but you'll have to call me daddy, though."

She laughs. Her laugh holds lot of happiness and joy. But most importantly, it holds hope. But this time, I have hope in me, too.

"Kiss me, daddy," she says.

And I gladly do.

[paddockbunny]

I just have to have a rant right now.

It was a family members birthday today so we went to a family lunch. I was sat there minding my own business (letting the louder family members take over) when one of them mentioned something about Copenhagen and I pepped up and said I was actually thinking about going on a solo trip there and wanted to ask what they thought of it etc. When out of the blue my aunt pipes up and goes “SOLO TRIP? WHY? DO YOU NOT HAVE ANY FRIENDS?” So loudly everyone turned to look at me.

I held it together but I’ve literally been crying since I left at 3 and not because I was completely humiliated but because I’ve been thinking about it constantly for the past few months and the stark harshness of her words have truly upset me beyond describable words.

It’s true. I don’t have a lot of friends. I have 3 or 4 friends in general but none I would term “close friends” and I’ve not had a “best friend” since I was 7. It’s not because I’m not sociable, I love interacting with people (I couldn’t do any of the jobs I’ve had/currently have if I didn’t like speaking to people), I can talk to anyone from any background and creed, but I struggle actually making and keeping friends because I was bullied from the age of 11 to 21 - and even beyond that if you include workplace bullying - so feel like I’m a hindrance, unwelcome, a spare part and always in the way. The thing is, even without the PTSD from being bullied for so many years I do prefer my own company. I’m happy at home and enjoy my own space possibly more than a lot of my peers (so much so the thought of Uni halls gave me anxiety attacks before I went to Uni that I found a flat by myself and worked two jobs to afford it because finance wasn’t enough in a ridiculously expensive city.) I’m incredibly independent and don’t need “chummed” anywhere to do anything. I go to the movies alone, take myself for lunch, shop, travel all completely autonomously. So when my aunt said that this afternoon it wasn’t the fact she exclaimed “SOLO TRIP” so loudly that everyone stopped talking that upset me - and truthfully it wasn’t even the humiliation of her screech of; “do you not have any friends” that garnered a smattering of subtle laughter that did either - it was the fact that she made something that I had taken as one of my biggest strengths away from me in 5 short seconds.

I was instantly reminded of all the times I cried myself to sleep as a teenager wondering why no one liked me, why I had to try twice as hard to fit in as everyone else and why I had to be the one that was the target for childish immature disdain for no other reason than existing. It triggered thoughts (from only last month) that I wasn’t “right” to be friends with and even closer ones from this week as to why I wasn’t invited along to something this weekend. It also triggered that feeling of “what’s wrong with me?” that I know a lot of people who have gone through childhood bullying carry with them and trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that I needed to “fix” about myself for people to want to be around me.

As much as my aunts words and reaction stung what probably hurt more was that my mother said nothing. She stayed silent. She didn’t even give me a reassuring “it’s ok, she’s a fucking idiot, I’ll talk to her later” glance. She sat there and pretended not to chuckle even though she knows what I’ve gone through in the past. She just wrote it off and brushed it under the carpet with ease and nonchalance. No doubt thinking her usual bullshit line; “you’re old enough to defend yourself, you don’t need me to do it - but watch how you retort and how you come across because everything you’ll come out with will piss me off and make me angry as no matter now gently you do it you always sound so defensive” as she usually does.

So seconds later while I sat uncomfortable and on edge - everyone now glaring at me like I was the first great white shark in captivity waiting with baited breath for my answer - I just shrugged and stated; “I do, but none of my friends have any money ergo no people to go on holidays with.” Now, while this is semi true (thank-you very much cost of living crisis, fuck you!) it isn’t the case for a few of my friends….they just don’t want to spend that much time with me and honestly, I get that because I would probably not want to spend that much time with them either (because, funnily enough, I like my own company.) And that’s before we even consider the fact that not everyone likes the same things. My idea of a holiday and my friends ideas of holidays differ wildly and that is perfectly ok. One friend likes Ibiza, nightclubs with very little clothing and sleeping all day partying all night. And that suits her. One actually likes travelling but solely stays in hostels, flies by the seat of her pants, always ends up with some medical injury or illness and doesn’t plan a single thing. Again that suits her. And one goes to the exact same location, exact same hotel, exact same two weeks of the year and would never think of leaving the resort to see anything other than the beach or the pool. And that, absolutely suits her. I like culture. I love a museum and attraction (think The Met in NY and The Colosseum in Rome). I love eating local food and seeing how things are made like wine, olive oil, chocolate that come from that country or region. I like taking a guided tour, I like talking to local people, I like asking for recommendations and experiencing the culture and history of wherever I am. That’s just me and I realise that might not suit everyone and not be the idea some people have as a holiday so I don’t ask people to go with me. What I guess my aunt finds so sad is that the person I usually go with that was the person who installed all of that travel intrigue in my was in fact my own mother - the one who stayed silent when this all came up, the one I’ve got a trip coming up with this coming week, the one who laughed as I was made feel small and didn’t defend me.

Overall, I do want friends that would travel with me - actually, I just want friends in general to be honest - but I can’t seem to make and retain friends who even really like me very much, let alone enough to take a trip with me. And I’ve always told myself I’m happier like that but now being so triggered, maybe not. I’ve always thought I’m independent because I find it easier, I don’t need anyone else, The only person I have is myself, I have to rely on me and me alone and I always thought the lack of dependency was something I should be grateful for.

But today has made me realise that being alone and flying solo, is now something to hurt someone with and independence can be used as a weapon.

[evelyne-am]

20th march 2023

DAY7

I am Writing todays post from where rehearsal ended yesterday. I think that might work for some posts I don’t know. I actually came in Sir‘s car yesterday, I felt very encouraged that he likes the music though there is a part of me that feels like this is not what I wanted to do. I wanted to do everything but music for a couple of months. But also like after 10 minutes of the actual conversation that I needed to have , very aware that it was a bit awkward for me to be riding with M and Sir. Needed to chat and do my post rehearsals social media stuff but I couldn’t obviously I was like on high alert. I shall henceforth not be such a teachers pet and use my own transport (unless we actually need more meetings)

It was our first night off after ages and even though I now have so much to do I took it. Had my mum‘s birthday stuff and then I got my hair done and went to a party, the last one before Ramadan and met lots of musician friends. I told some of them about what I’m doing, and some of them I didn’t. It’s not a secret or anything, it’s just not being advertised as such right now because to be honest who knows if I will be thrown out for doing something wrong. Don’t wanna take anything for granted. I know I said today on my day off I will be elaborating on the play, but if you’ve been reading every day you know that my day off is not a day off anymore. But I did party too much last night and spent most of the day recovering. I also had to schedule so many things still doing so . There’s this bloody flat that I’ve taken (no no I love my flat) in the middle of my tour couple of months back that I kept on thinking after my tour is over I will sit and get bearings on, I will sit and do my finances for the past five months, I will make a routine for gym and eating healthy because I’ve been gaining some weight in the last two months post Covid. I have thought I would do a bit of it today on my day off but of course I could not. I feel something in my personal life is bugging me when it comes to how much I have allowed people to affect my decisions in the past, how much I have taken peoples advice without knowing that my pulse and my life and my career and my needs are different from everyone so the only person who understand that is me. having this unestablished new home, my cat in another house, everything is a bit unsettled when I need myself to be settled so I can also focus deeply on this really important topic that I really don’t know much about that I have to embody if I want to play an actual acting role. I really really don’t want to be just on the music team.

Anyway I guess having some space from being on the run from 7 am has allowed certain things for me to surface in my personal life. But it is what it is, I have to balance my music projects remaining, my decisions that I made that might have been wrong and now can’t Undo, And maybe some future thinking in the middle of all this. That’s life. The way I had thought that I would shut everything down and just be inside the story is a bit unrealistic. But one thing I’ve done completely is cut myself off from social stuff, I’m getting a new Sim so I can have a new WhatsApp as well, I have too many groups social, work, hobbies. And I like to chat it’s a whole thing. I chat a lot I spend most of my social media time on WhatsApp. Anyway depression is kicking in a bit, don’t feel like doing my 10,000 steps today but rather eating doughnuts and fried chicken (which I do) but I make it to the park and that’s where I am writing this right now.

DC has once again made me a recording of M2 story, I tried to listen to it while I’m having lunch, but the actual details of this one are a bit more gory than M 1 . For some reason I have thought M1 was the heaviest one. In the book it’s what was the end. Might be the last one. But when we were reading the book with everyone together, Sir had mentioned that M1 will go first. I think I understand why. M1 is the a relatable one for people like me or you. M2 on the other hand is more than a stones throw away. M2 story is so different I’m struggling to get inside it and I am really worried that tomorrow everyone will be in their second week zone and I will be on my first day zone again. I hope MQ is faring better than I am with M1. Bloody hell there’s also the music part I just got a text with some more music stuff, I’ve told M that I’m struggling to do so many things at once. And she said to take it easy, but I know. Our rehearsals are supposed to start at 8:30, but actually we get there at eight and we start our basic warmup, almost no one ever shows up after 8:10. It’s that kind of dedication here even though we are told to allow ourselves to have other things and keep our priorities steady, there is an urgency there’s only two months left The Script isn’t even done the music hasn’t even been composed, there’s a lot to do and I realise that. I wanted to take today to do a bit of me time and I probably will for a small amount but I may stay up and do my music stuff, don’t want this to be dragged behind because of me.

Came back to write some more. I am taking a little bit of me time listening to some tunes cooking having a drink, I’ve got my 10,000 steps in (even though I ate fried chicken and a doughnut). I’m going to try and get my friends and family to help me be a bit more regimented with my eating and working out habits, I can’t be depressed and fighting at a time like this I need to be on my a game if not For anyone but these ladies these ladies whose stories we are supposed to be telling. It's a battle in my head between my real focus of this bigger than me thing and then my little world me. Today SHAW had an event of his company and I guess forgot to invite me. In the past month have I become so off people's radar is that even my closest friends in the industry are forgetting that I exist? But Is that not what I wanted? Didn’t I want to drop off the planet for a little bit, not do the whole Glam celebrity thing, or the social life thing. But last night when I got my hair done and went to meet friends I took a couple of photos. I felt really good as a part of me that actually really enjoys that and I want to honour it. But I also want to remember it’s just three months, it’s okay if people forget you for three months, when the play releases the play will shine and with it so will you AM.

[valas-illyn]

Update on my still untitled HDG story:

Part 1 - Awakening

When I come to, I'm lying on some kind of hospital bed. My hands are cuffed to the sides. I don't immediately remember where I was before this. How did I get here? Where is here?

The lights in here are low, but still bright enough. The now opening door reveals a comparatively blinding hallway, and a silhouetted figure composed of writhing vines. Something about the perspective seems off, but I can't make it make sense.

Someone, somewhere, in another room is scared, terrified even. Angry too. Bursting with emotions, they want to scream and sob and thrash and rage. It sounds like a lot.

I just feel tired.

The thing moves into the room, and the door slides blessedly shut.

Affini. That's the word.

Suddenly the perspective clicks into focus and the room makes sense. Affini are 10ft tall alien plants with a penchant for keeping other sapients as pets. The room is sized for them, which is why everything feels wrong. I'm tall for a human, but I'm not that tall. The bed is human-sized though, so it must be on some kind of raised platform.

My mind drifts off again, lost in visualising the technical specifications for a 5ft high hospital bed. Extra trains of thought spinning off into imagining what other situations one would even be needed, or in the comical image of a human nurse trying to wheel one about. Y'know, they're always complaining that they don't have enough space on the wards. With a 5ft high one, you could have modular bunk beds that just roll over each other. You could double the capacity of a hospital. You'd have to add teeth to each leg and an electric winder to hoist it up and down though. Maybe some kind of quick release mechanism for emergencies? You could—

"Petal?" The affini is standing over me, the voice is... soft. Not quite feminine, but maybe feminine by their standards, what do I know? Do affini even have male and female? Well, it'll do for now. Her voice is a gentle rustling rasp that I can barely believe is capable of human speech. "Petal, it's time to wake up."

I roll my head towards her. The other room is getting loud again. "I'm awake." My voice is flat, lifeless. Too deep. It sounds wrong.

She seems to shrink, like she's slumped. Relief? Despair? Maybe she's just tired too. How do you read the body language of a bush?

"Good, I am Luminara Verdis, fourth bloom. Pronouns she/her. What should I call you?"

I was right, feminine. I try to answer, but instead I just yawn. Long and deep.

"Still a little sleepy? Let's give you something to clear those sedatives out of your system." She leans over and a loop of vine extends towards my neck. A light glints off the end of a sharp, needle-like point dripping with something viscous.

Sudden and visceral. An emotion floods through me, but I couldn't put a name to it. I yell "No!" far louder than I intended as I throw myself away from her, straining against my bonds. I realise my legs are bound too.

The bed wobbles and she holds it steady with a vine, preventing me from tipping it over in my... panic? Panic. That's what it is. Somewhere deep inside, a part of me sees the absurdly tall bed again and wants to chuckle. Another part of me notes the axis of the tilt and the centre of gravity, and mentally confirms the platform hypothesis.

"Okay, it's okay, petal. Calm down." She makes a show of taking the needle away, but I keep my eyes on her face, not her—hand? Vine? My breathing is ragged now. My ribcage feels like it's shuddering. I try to force myself to take deep breaths.

"No needles." My voice is as shaky as the rest of me, but I say it with some force. I would be pleased by that if only I knew why I seemed to be so upset.

I settle back into the bed and try to rub my face with my hand, only I can't because it's still cuffed to the bedframe.

"No needle." She agrees. Her voice is full of pity, sorrow. She's making an effort to be gentle with me, I can tell that much.

A voice in the back of my mind whispers "needle. Singular. No promises past now." I tell it to be quiet.

"I—I'm awake now." My voice is steadier now, my body more controlled. The panic has faded, gone off to that other room. I can ignore it now.

"I can see that. I'm so sorry for startling you, petal, but I promise you I'm here to help. What's your name?"

"I'm— I—" my voice falters as my mind scrabbles for answers. "I don't know. I can't remember, there—there was more than one I think?" I know I should be frightened, or concerned by this. But I'm not. I don't have the energy for it now the adrenaline has worn off. Instead, I'm just... a bit perplexed.

If I could read plant faces... I'm assuming she is showing the concern that I'm not feeling. I had best stop that before it becomes something, like another needle. "I-it'll come back to me, it always does. I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

She shows me a smile and says, "Luminara. Lumi, if you like."

I smile back and tug at my restraint again. I really want to rub my face, and it's bothering me that I can't. "Why am I chained to the bed?" I try to hide the frustration from my voice, transmuting it into concern instead.

"It's for your own safety, flower. Do you remember what happened?"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I guess not," she chuckles. "You were in an accident before we rescued you. You were badly hurt and terribly confused, and you kept trying to attack the vets. They didn't know if you would still be violent when you woke up."

That makes sense. I have brief flashes of pseudo-memory; fear, anger, terrible, terrible pain. I don't think it was an accident though. It feels like it was going on for a long time...

My body shivers, and I shake the memories from my head. I'm still tugging on the cuff gently. I'm not sure I can stop. The feel of it is keeping me calm.

"I don't think I want to remember... Could you untie me, please? I just need to rub my eyes.

__________________________

Part 2 - Rescue.

The ship was found drifting at the edge of a red dwarf system. an old medical transport and, according to the report, woefully outdated even by the standards of the feralists. The ship's computer system was fried long before the rescue ship arrived and large portions of the database were badly corrupted. Some parts even physically destroyed. I'm told It will take time to rebuild the entire database, and with the near total absence of written documentation that leaves us for now with very little idea of who our adorable new florets even are.

The medical transport appears to have suffered catastrophic computer failure and been left dead in space, unable to avoid several impact events. There were 7 humans on board still alive, and several more who were killed by whatever happened there.

My human seems to be a young adult male with some primitive augments, integrated military hardware it seems. This one was still conscious when the rescuers arrived, conscious and delerious. Cold, hunger, and malfunctioning implants had left them insensible and violent, they had to be heavily sedated before the rescuers could bring thim in.

It most of a week for the vet Sjahi worked to repair all the damage, but even so they woke up several times and tried to attack her. She haf to cuff the feral human to the bed to prevent them from harming themself and undoing all her hard work, poor petal, but even Sjahi said the look in its eyes was only an animal terror, nothing malicious or even deliberate.

That is how my floret looks the first time I see them in person. Pale, still yellow in places from old bruising, hair patchy and just starting to grow out. The few patches of bare metal or chrome ports showing what remained of their implants. Laying there asleep in only a medical gown, arms and legs bound to the bed by thick cuffs. I know instantly that we will love each other, mistress and floret.

A medical screen informs me my floret is still sleeping, though coming around slowly. I stand with Sjahi in an adjacent observation room as she gives me the medical report.

"... unusually tall for a human, so keep things back from the edge of the counter. Badly malnourished, I've sent you some dietary recommends to fix that. There was extensive physical damage including multiple fractures and two broken bones, all of which is fixed now along with the frostbite damage to the extremities. There was some damage to the nervous system too but nothing major, just some fried nerve endings from the implants overloading. I removed most of them, they were military tech anyway. Rudimentary but advanced by terrain standards."

"Most of the implants?"

"yes, there's a basic terrain net interface and a replacement ear still, and one arm is synthetic from the elbow down. I have repaired them all and made sure they're compatible with our systems."

"I see", I hope my floret wasn't too attached to their little mods. "Could the damaged augments be responsible for the violent behaviour?"

"very probably, yes. There was a complex cocktail of combat drugs being fed into the bloodstream, and at least one implant was suppressing parts of the brain. I expect they'll be much calmer now but do expect some confusion when they wake up, after such an ordeal some temporary memory loss would not be unusual either." An alert from the medical screen tells us the Terrain, my human, is coming around and Sjahi waves me through to say hello.

The waking human lays on a terrain style hospital bed atop a low table, bringing the floret up to my chest level when I sit in the accompanying chair. The bed was my idea. I hope it will be familiar and comforting. The lights in them room are still dim from the sleep cycle and their eyes are heavily lidded, barely awake.

Leaves quivering in anticipation, I step over beside them and lean down to whisper "Petal." They sigh softly but otherwise don't acknowledge me. "Petal, it's time to wake up."

Their head flops over in a disconcerting manner and they distractedly mumble "I'm awake."

Not ideal, but I persevere. I should be patient for now. "Good, I am Luminara Verdis, fourth bloom. Pronouns she/her. What should I call you?"

My poor neglected human doesn't answer, just stares blankly at my face. "Still a little sleepy? Let's give you something to clear those sedatives out of your system-"

"No!" They jerk away violently, face contorting into a mask of pure terror, they throw themselves so hard I have to grab the bed to stop it toppling over. Okay then. I make a show of taking my thorn away from them.

"Okay, it's okay, petal. Calm down" I say, trying to soothe and keep the panic from my own voice but they don't break eye contact for even a moment.

The raw animal terror in my humans eyes is gone now. replaced by fear, distrust, maybe stubbornness? "No needles." Impressively demanding given the state of them quivering like a new leaf.

"no needle" this time. I can't promise to never use one...

The rest of the conversation was... Concerning. I know the vet said that memory loss was to be expected, but the reality of the situation shook me somewhat. My poor petal was so obviously distressed the whole time, but bravely putting on a mask of humour.

It was not long before they fell asleep again, worn out by the emotional exertion and sleeping naturally. Sjahi was uncertain about it, but I insisted I take my human home with me then and there. I want them to wake up somewhere more comfortable, and without the restraints.

While I wait for them to wake again I receive an update on the analysis of the unknown ship. It seems the TAS Vulcan was a feralist research vessel that went missing some decades ago, disappearing into the void shortly after the war with the compact. It seems the computer failure was a deliberate act of sabotage, by one of the "research subjects". The language used in the recovered data makes me shiver, these people were used for testing experimental weapons platforms specifically to fight the affini, and they were not all willing participants.

The patient records are still fragmentary and it will take a while longer to match them with individuals. but even there they are referred to by 5 digit numbers, not by their names. I can feel my thorns growing, expressing my rage.

My reading is interrupted by noises from the bedroom, my petal is tossing and murmuring in their sleep. I lean closer, hoping to catch some clues about their identity.

"no, it's not right. wrong story. I have to change the story."

___________________________