#how there is value in every single day and I don't want to wish away time

[haunted-skitty-doll]

I am so so fucking glad that Pokemon is taking a gap year but the one downside is that November is kinda mid without a Pokemon game to look forward to

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (IV)

alexia putellas x sister

chapter I, II, III

sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)

~~~~~~

Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.

But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.

Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.

So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.

"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"

All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.

I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.

I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.

But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.

I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.

And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.

Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.

But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.

And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.

Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.

So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.

They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.

Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.

'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'

'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'

I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.

Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.

There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.

I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.

I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.

Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.

But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.

But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.

The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.

It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.

I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.

It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.

Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.

So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.

I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.

Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.

There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.

Everything I once was is gone.

Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.

And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.

I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.

And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.

~~~~~~

I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.

"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"

I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.

She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.

"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.

They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.

Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.

"You are not ok, Elena."

Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.

I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.

"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"

I nod and she continues.

"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"

I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.

I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.

I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.

But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.

I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?

We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.

Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.

It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.

Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.

Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.

"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."

She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.

"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."

I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.

"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.

The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.

Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.

But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.

Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.

She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.

She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.

When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.

"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."

She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.

"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."

I smile. I have never heard this story before.

"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."

Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.

"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."

She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.

Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.

But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.

The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.

The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.

"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."

I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.

But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.

Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.

Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.

"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.

"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."

I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.

"I don't know what to do."

Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.

But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.

She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.

She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.

I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.

But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.

I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.

Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.

Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.

But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.

There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.

But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.

The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.

Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.

It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.

It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.

"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"

It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.

No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.

I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.

I look up, offended.

"What?"

She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.

"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."

"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."

She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.

But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.

It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.

I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.

"I am so confused."

~~~~~~

Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.

But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.

It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.

"Is Mapi still awake?"

She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.

I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.

"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"

I love Aitana, I always have.

"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."

Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.

Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.

"You have been crying."

It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.

I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.

She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.

"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."

I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.

"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."

I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.

"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."

I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.

"I know she didn't go to any."

Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.

"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."

I frown at her words.

"Lucky?"

It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.

"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."

Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.

"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."

There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.

My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.

"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."

Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.

"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"

Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.

It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.

"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."

"Why are you two doing all this for me?"

Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.

The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.

"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"

There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.

"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."

She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.

Come to think of it, they probably have.

"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."

"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."

I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.

How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.

Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.

I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.

A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :)

this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!

part V

[itgirl-111]

Embodiment of love

She looks just like a dream.....

I am literally the prettiest dream girl ever. Looking at my face means instantly getting serotonin and adrenaline, dopamine rush. Just being in my presence is itself a present. My presence alone has value in it, feels like a literal nostalgic Deja Vu like dream you never want to wake up from. I embody love and beauty, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, energetically.

The prettiest stars in the world.....

My beauty is unrivaled, I look like the prettiest angels and stars of the galaxies. I am simply so breathtaking, irresistible, and unforgettable. I embody the prettiest sunsets, prettiest stars, prettiest skies, prettiest oceans, and prettiest art. My beauty is otherworldly, the one that you'd want to capture it so badly. Even the camera couldn't capture a tenth of my beauty, because I'm just way too beautiful. I am a living, breathing work of art. I am so mesmerizing it's insane. Every single day I wake up looking a billion times prettier than I was yesterday. My beauty knows no limits. I am just naturally and effortlessly beautiful. My beauty is the one that is once in a blue moon, it's rare, it's too precious. The moment you lay your eyes on me the only thing on your mind is "wow". Seriously, how is it even possible for someone to look this pretty that you'd take their breath away? But it is possible for me, yes, because I'm the ultimate dream girl.

Embodiment of love.....

I am the embodiment of love itself, you don't know true love until you see me. One look is enough for you to fall utterly in love with me. I am the first love, I am the definition of love. I'm the embodiment of love in the purest form. If love was a person it would be me. I'm immensely in love with myself inside out, and this love only keeps increasing. I act, walk, talk, like I'm a blessing because I literally am!!. There's something so lovely, adorable, otherworldly, ethereal, magical and angelic about my aura that people simply cannot help but to fall in love with. I have 0 haters, I mean come on, I'm literally the best of the best. I'm simply loved, respected and admired by everyone. I am everyones favourite everything. I am the dream girl, the one that you dream of. I'm the typa girl you wish you had. I'm the typa girl you wish you would become. I'm the typa girl who you see once and never forget. I'm the typa girl who you can't help but to love and adore. I'm the typa girl you want to protect and cherish with all your heart. I'm the typa girl you wanna see win. I'm the typa girl that takes your breath away. Im the typa girl that makes your heart race. I'm the typa girl who reminds you of everything. I'm the typa girl who reminds you of love songs. I'm the typa girl you miss when I'm not around. I'm the typa girl you wanna spoil. I'm the typa girl who brings the soft side out of you. The only one.

A dream....

I would just be sitting there and doing nothing and everyone would go crazy over me. Everything about me, my aura prompts people to smile uncontrollably like an idiot in love. Even the coldest of people turn soft for me. It's like everything around me just turns into that one romantic and dreamy shoujo manga. Being in my presence is strangely addicting yet comforting. The world is literally a happy, ethereal and magical dream when I am in it. People automatically feel better in my heavenly presence. I literally embody makoto shinkai's movies, so breathtakingly beautiful, dreamy and the literal embodiment of love. I embody all the majestic love songs. My beauty, presence, aura, vibe, personality, mindset, my voice, literally everything about me is so dreamy, perfect and lovable. It's like I walked right out of a love struck, euphoric dream. That's right I'm a dream you never want to wake up from.

[badmuni]

enhypen x-ray 🔍

★ . ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ ( the way they communicate with their s/o ) ☁️ׂ ʬʬ

₍⁠₍ 김선우 ₎⁠₎ sunoo

“how was your day?” “tell me everything.”

sunoo is incredibly interested and wants to know everything about his s/o's life, even the bad outcomes.

“did you have dinner already?” “please don't skip any meals !”

sunoo is constantly concerned with their wellbeing and health. he pays attention to these details since he is aware that some people are careless with food and he doesn't want his partner to be.

“you can count on me, baby. i love you. i love you so much i can't even breath”

he likes to show his affection for them sometimes even sounding a little dramatic, but that's just how he want it to be. sunoo enjoys expressing his emotions, which usually results in him sending them lengthy (romantic) texts. or placing calls...

₍⁠₍ 西村力 ₎⁠₎ ni-ki

“did you miss me? don't lie, i know you missed me.”

riki is cute and provocative all at once, and he enjoys receiving special treatment from his lover. he just acts like that every time he visits them.

“i wanna go out with you again, baby.”

riki enjoys spending time with his s/o. he likes taking them on adventures and to new places because it makes him the happiest. also, because he likes adrenaline (way too much).

“i bought something to you... it's surprise so i'm not going to reveal what it is, but try to guess it.”

riki (often) spends his money buying things to his s/o. sometimes a plushie or maybe a T-shirt that says “i love my boyfriend” with a lil pic of him in it (thats so corny lol). or sometimes a jewelry, rings, bracelets, necklaces. he totally spoils his s/o in his own way.

₍⁠₍ 심재윤 ₎⁠₎ jake

“darling, do you think this looks good?”

always asking his s/o opinions on things, doesn't really matter the topic, jake will wants to hear their thoughts on it because he has a lot of faith in their taste.

“i woke up, tidied up the room because yk jay slaves me, so i went out to work, then i came home, but it was too late so i went to dinner [...]”

jake is very open with his s/o, telling them everything, since he thinks it's cool to do so. as he appreciates having a strong link with them, he believes that doing this brings them even closer together.

“BABY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED”

he just CAN'T be privy to a gossip; he'll quickly relay it to his partner. as soon as he knows something, he just goes there and tells them about it. jake just can't keep secrets from his partner...

₍⁠₍ 양정원 ₎⁠₎ jungwon

“i dreamed about you last night... it was pretty clingy but i like it”

jungwon thinks about his s/o constantly, even when he's sleeping... :( and he makes clear they are aware about it.

“how are you feeling today, darling?”

wonnie is very sensitive to the feelings of his s/o and appreciates that they keep him informed of their concerns and feelings throughout the day.

“better you be careful, i'm going to kidnap you tonight😼”

unplanned little walks through the city at night is something wonnie enjoys doing with his lover in order to easy his mind and feel peaceful.

₍⁠₍ 이희승 ₎⁠₎ heeseung

“i wish you were here...”

many times, as an introvert, heeseung just wants to escape from social events. but tbh, he thinks that if his s/o were around, the whole experience would be better for him.

“i was counting the minutes and seconds to see you”

heeseung is sweet most of the time, and plus, he's very good using words. he also can't just get away from someone he loves so much for too long or he starts to get crazy.

“oh- you want water, baby? don't worry, i got you!”

man simply don't miss a single opportunity to please his partner or just do things for them. they want or need something? heeseung is there doing for them.

₍⁠₍ 박성훈 ₎⁠₎ sunghoon

“you have such a good taste...”

“oh- why do you have a good taste? because you date me, tsk”

hoon is constantly valuing himself, almost as though he enjoys pampering. so he expects his s/o to agree with him that he's a handsome man.

“you look so good today. actually you look good everyday... you're the prettiest, baby”

never disappointing, sunghoon wants his s/o to be always confident about themselves just like he is, so he often compliments them.

“are you feeling good? wants to do something else?”

when he and his s/o goes out, hoon worries if they're enjoying what they're doing. if the crowd seems too loud, sunghoon quickly wants to take his partner from there. he values have a good atmosphere around him and his partner, that's why he gets worried.

₍⁠₍ 박종성 ₎⁠₎ jay

“did you know productivity is a concept created by the capitalism?”

jay is such a nerdy and that's something not much talked about. he is always discovering new things and randomly telling his s/o about it. jay absolutely adores debating, too.

“your eyes are so pretty. for real, the prettiest eyes i've ever seen. they shine with the sunlight... i don't wanna stop look at them.”

also, jay is always noticing every detail about his s/o. be it about their physical characteristics or personality.

“bought this for you since last week i heard you say you wanted this.”

jay literally remembers every last information since he likes to make his partner feel special. jay demonstrates his love by being a devoted person, as you can tell from the bottom of his heart.

# masterlist

[ ★ ] — notes: hey guys, i just created this new thing 'enhypen x-ray' where i'll make posts like this about their acts and behavior.

thank u for reading ! and let me know if you like it :)

© badmuni, 2023

[junkdrawerfics]

Broken Pieces Put Back Together

Jasper Whitlock X Reader

Summary: You get turned by Maria a short time after Jasper. Life in the coven is not what you expect though, as Maria quickly realizes you have a useful ability and you end up outliving the other newborns. At least you have Jasper, though. Until you don't.

Word Count: 3361

Warning: Depression, a short bit of suicidal thoughts, canonical violence. It gets rough in the middle y'all.

Lots of hurt but it has a happy ending, I promise.

---

You and Jasper were close to fast friends when you were forced to join Maria’s army. At first, you were terrified of the blond and his scar-ridden skin. Word reached you quickly of all he’d done, the countless lives he’d taken. How could you not be scared?

But then one night you found him on his own, standing outside the abandoned barn you called home, looking up at the stars with such a broken expression. That night, something drew you to his side. The urge to comfort, the need to ease his pain, was the first feeling to overcome the overwhelming sense of bloodlust constantly burning in your throat.

Not a single word was spoken that night. You didn’t know what to say, not to this man who had lived through so much more than you, and he didn’t offer anything in return. You both just stood there, still as statues, looking up at the stars.

That night you learned that Jasper Whitlock is not all that he appears to be.

It’s also the night Maria learned of your ability, and decided you might be of more value than she originally thought. You hadn’t even realized you were doing anything. In that moment, all you wanted was to keep him safe, hide him for just a little bit so he could breathe. And apparently you had done just that. You both disappeared, from everyone’s perception at least.

And so you lived. Outlived.

Your new reality was much crueler than you thought it could be. You realized that when your friend, a young girl changed the day after you, was deemed no longer useful.

That night, Jasper was the one who came to you.

“(Y/n).”

You don’t look away from the sky, the bleeding colors of the sunset dull in comparison to the flashing colors of fire behind your eyes. You can smell the smoke clinging to his clothes as he gets closer. It burns your nose, makes your chest ache as a fresh wave of pain sweeps through you.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” You ask quietly, voice like a broken set of bells.

Jasper sets his jaw, looking down at his hands. He nods slowly, an unfamiliar lump forming in his throat. He’s never felt guilty for following orders, he always thought it was for the best, that Maria knew better than the rest of them.

But then you look at him, your eyes swimming with tragedy, and it makes something inside of him ache. There’s no anger, no hatred, like he expected, just an ocean of grief.

 It clogs your throat, burns behind your eyes, leaves you shaking. You rest on the edge of tears, suffocating in that horrible, sinking feeling, but always unable to cry. And you hate it. You hate it. You hate it. It’s like walking a tightrope, always off balance, yet never falling.

But you shatter when a hand rests gently on your shoulder.

A dry, ugly sob breaks past your lips as you turn into Jasper’s body. He curls his arms around you wordlessly, wishing he could hold all your pieces together. And even though his hands are the ones that did it, even though you know he’ll have to do it again and again and again, you can’t help but soak up every ounce of comfort from his rare embrace.

Slowly the sadness lifts, until it's bearable, not crushing you but not completely gone. His ability. Usually you’d scold him, tell him your emotions are yours for a reason, but right now all you can do is hold onto him tighter.

He’s all you have left, now.

Something changed after that night. You and Jasper got even closer. He protected you and was your rock when Maria turned your ability into a weapon. And on nights when she would go hunting alone, the two of you would perch on the roof of the barn and just look at the stars, talking about anything and everything. 

You loved hearing stories of his human life. He would tell you about his time in the army, about the pressure he faced to join when he got old enough. His family didn’t have much, especially after the war started. You could tell he loved them, just by the soft smile he would get any time he talked about them.

You would take turns sharing stories. You told him about your siblings and their mischievous games. You were the oldest, so it often rested on you to watch over them, which usually ended with you covering up their shenanigans. You loved it though, taking care of them, teaching them.

That urge was still somewhere deep inside you, a motherly instinct you can’t quite shake. It made it all the more difficult to distance yourself from the fresh newborns in the coven. Before, you would take them in, calm them down, make sure they had something to drink to ease the pain of their thirst.

You couldn’t experience that again, though. That loss. So you kept your distance, spending most of your time with Jasper anyways. The man’s threatening aura kept most of them away. 

Except one. 

A newborn, a little too confident, a little too high on his new strength, decided he just couldn’t leave you alone. For the most part, you ignored him. In your human life, you dealt with more than enough  unwanted attention, so you thought you were used to it. He was as stubborn as he was arrogant though.

Until Jasper nearly killed him for making a move on you (a little too aggressively).

Luckily Maria wasn’t there for that.

“Are you alright?” Jasper ushers you outside, red eyes frantically scanning over you, as if you could be battered and bruised. 

“I’m fine, Jas,” you breathe, brushing the dust from your pants, “I’m more worried about that guy you just ripped the arm off of.”

“I should’ve killed him for touchin’ you.”

You glance at him, amusement quickly replacing the mild panic that filled you the moment that man laid his hands on you, “You know you wouldn’t. Maria would get angry if you did that.”

Jasper’s lips draw into a thin line. It shouldn’t matter. You’re the only one who treats him like he’s still human, his only friend. He wants to say that he will always protect you, even if he has to fight Maria herself. But the words don’t come. Deep down, a part of him knows they aren’t true, and that leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Don’t look like that.” He blinks when you touch his cheek, your fingers soft and light, unlike Maria’s. You smile at him, just as gently, voice resigned, “I know how you think, Jasper Hale. You’re a loyal man, and that’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

As you say it, a sadness wraps around you, one that Jasper doesn’t understand. It doesn’t match your smile, or the soft creasing of your eyes as you look up at him. Why does it make you so sad?

You don’t let the feeling linger though, reigning it in the moment you notice the slight furrow of his brow he sometimes gets when he is trying to focus on your emotions. You don’t need him figuring out why. Why his loyalty to Maria makes your chest ache so painfully.

Falling in love with Jasper Hale was as easy as breathing, which says something considering you don’t even need to. Behind the tough, military face of his, was a man who was charismatic and gentle, who liked to laugh and remembered the name of every horse he’d ever ridden. 

He was loyal to a fault.

That’s why he could not see Maria’s true nature for the longest time. It became clear to you rather quickly once you got closer with Jasper. Close enough that she took notice. Close enough that she decided to do something about it.

It started with small things.

Whenever you would go to talk to Jasper, she would call him over for something unimportant.

She started sending you on little tasks, just to keep you out of the barn.

Even on the days she would go hunting, the days you looked forward to most because you and Jasper could be completely alone, she started taking Jasper with her.

And each time, she would give you one of those vicious smiles. Like she won. It did not take long to realize it was all on purpose. In her own way, she was telling you loud and clear that she wanted you nowhere near Jasper and anytime you tried, she’d be there to show you just how little you mattered.

What hurt most, though, was how Jasper always listened to her. Every time, he would follow after her like a good soldier, casting you a guilty look over his shoulder. You didn’t blame him though. You couldn’t. Not when you knew the alternative.

So you got used to being alone for the first time in your life. The sadness, the one that Jasper kept at bay all that time, slowly crept back in, filling every nook and cranny of your being. Day after day, it got harder to stay, to listen to Maria’s direction. Even when you did listen, she treated you like a pest, contempt burning in her eyes. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave though. The thought alone made your heart ache, because that would mean leaving Jasper. No amount of distance could dampen those feelings that came so quickly. They were branded in your heart, a part of you now and probably forever. A simple look from him and you would resign yourself all over again to stay. 

Even if it got you killed.

Some days were too hard though, watching him follow on Maria’s heel, doing all she asked. It had been months since you talked, actually talked. Months since you heard him laugh or felt the comfort of his touch, no matter how small it was. And it hurt.

The pain made it hard to drink. You’d go weeks without blood, finding the burn of the hunger was better than the empty feeling in your chest. It made you weak, your skin turning almost translucent, the circles under your eyes growing darker and darker.

Jasper hated it. He had to watch as you fell into depression, your emotions like a dark cloud around you, so strong even the newborns walked on eggshells around you. He hated it, yet he could never do anything about it.

He wasn’t as oblivious as you thought him to be. He was aware of Maria’s resentment towards you. Jasper knew that if he showed his concern, even an inkling of it, she would lash out at you. At least by her side, he could temper her emotions and protect you.

His efforts could only go so far, though.

As you grew weaker, your ability weakened as well. And Maria noticed.

You wanted her to notice. 

Leaving wasn’t an option, but the pain of staying was becoming too much for you to bear. Death seemed like the only way out of this eternally lonely existence. You just hoped Jasper wouldn’t have to be the one to do it.

Maria never liked the easy way, though. Loyalty must be proven.

You felt it as soon as you stepped foot outside the barn one night. The air was warm and dark clouds covered the sky, blocking out any light. Something sank in your gut and you just knew.

If you were going to die, you were at least going to die somewhere you could be surrounded by good memories. So you trekked to the hill where you first stood with Jasper, the one where you spent many nights watching the stars, and that’s exactly where he found you.

You perch yourself on a rock, watching as lightning flashes in the clouds. The air is heavy with static, but not a single drop of rain falls. It’s like the world can’t decide how it feels, a mess of storms not ready to break, but needing to, the tension rising and rising. Until something gives.

You hear Jasper before you see him. His steps are uncharacteristically heavy, the brush whispering as he walks through it. The air grows impossibly heavier when he comes to an abrupt stop just feet away from you.

It’ll be quick, you think. You hardly have the strength to keep yourself upright, the burning in your throat like hot coals. With what energy you have left, you keep your chin up and slowly turn your gaze away from the clouds to the man behind you.

And you smile. Because it’s Jasper. Your Jasper. Looking just as broken as the first night you stood by him. 

Jasper’s knees practically buckle when you look at him, a wave of fondness warming the air around you. How can you still feel such a thing for him? After all he has done. You must know why he’s here. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve the trust in your eyes.

“Don’t look like that,” you murmur, smile going sad. You can’t stand the guilt twisting those features you love so much. 

Jasper shakes his head, teeth gritting together so hard, his jaw creaks. He doesn’t want this. He can’t. Not with you looking at him like he’s hung the moon. No fear, no hatred. You should despise him.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, as if hearing his thoughts.

“Darlin’-” 

He chokes on all the words he wants to say, everything he’s been waiting to say. How he wishes you could see the ocean, like you’ve always wanted. How he wants to be right there with you, just to see the way your eyes light up. How his eternal life finally seemed to have meaning when he met you.

“It’s okay, Jasper. I’m okay.” You reach for him, wanting nothing more than to just take his distress away. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. He gives in, allows you to take his hand, pull him closer. For you, he convinces himself, despite the selfish comfort he finds in your touch. “I know it’s not your decision. This has nothing to do with you,” you hesitate, squeezing his hands softly with a sad smile, “but I’m glad I got to talk to you one last time, at least. It’s not so scary if it’s you.”

“Stop.” His voice cracks like thunder, desperation bleeding into his eyes.

But there’s one last thing you need to say.

“I love you.”

Your eyes drift shut and you tilt your face back to the sky.

A drop of rain traces down your cheek.

Now you’re ready.

“I can’t.”

What?

You peek your eyes open, looking on in shock as Jasper kneels in front of you, face set in the most determined look you’ve ever seen. What’s happening?

“I can’t hurt you. I won’t,” he declares, red eyes set on you without a hint of hesitation.

You gape at him, head suddenly spinning, “But Maria-”

“I won’t let her hurt you either.”

“But Jasper- How- What-”

“Run away with me.”

You blink. And blink. And blink. If you had a working heart, it would be beating out of your chest at this point. Has he lost his mind?

“We’ll go to the States, to the ocean just like you want, leave all this behind.” The words spill out of him, the dam finally broken. Each word makes your eyes go wider, the sadness receding as hope sparks in your chest. “Please, darlin’. Give me a chance to make you happy.”

“Oh, Jasper.” You touch his face, drawing him just close enough to press a kiss to his forehead. Jasper’s eyes flicker shut, your love washing over him like the rain. Your next words seal the rest of your eternity, “You’ve always made me happy. We can go anywhere. As long as I’m with you, I’ll be the happiest woman in the world.”

And for the first time in forever, that smile slants over his lips, bright and warm and gorgeous.

You missed that smile so much.

That night, the two of you disappeared into the storm. You don’t know if Maria ever searched for you. If she did, she never found you.

Jasper kept his word. As soon as you crossed the border, you traveled to the west coast. You saw the ocean, which was more than you ever expected it to be, and that’s where you stayed for a while. Until you met the Cullens, at least.

You were nervous at first. Large covens were rare outside of the armies, so you didn’t trust them at first. There was no way you’d do that ever again. But you missed having a family, and looking at them, you couldn’t help but want for what they seemed to have.

“What do you think, Jas?” You ask your mate as you curl into his side.

He wraps an arm around you, lips pressing against your forehead softly, “Whatever you want, darlin’. They’re intentions seem honorable.”

“Would you be okay going vegetarian, though?” You love the idea. It’s always bothered you, having to kill innocent humans. Even feeding from the bad ones leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I’ll manage,” Jasper chuckles, eyes creasing.

“And the moving around?”

“We already do that, sugar.”

“Oh yah.” The Cullens move around far less than you, actually. You can’t believe they can stay in the same place for months, years even. The thought fills you with anticipation. Maybe you could finally settle down and have a normal life with Jasper.

“Maybe we could get a dog,” you hum, a slow smile spreading across your lips.

Jasper snorts, drawing you closer to press a kiss to your temple. You glance up at him, eyes bright with unrestrained excitement. And just like that, it’s decided.

“Let’s join them.”

“Alright! Oh! We could call him Cowboy! Can you imagine it? Cowboy the dog. It’d be perfect.”

“Anythin’ you want, darlin’.”

And that’s how you ended up with the Cullens.

---

“...wow.”

You grin at Bella, “I know, it’s a lot. But it all worked out for the best! I can’t imagine my life any different.”

“And I can’t imagine my life without you.” Your smile goes even wider when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

You look over your shoulder at your mate, eyes practically lighting up with affection, “Good, cause you’d be hard pressed to get rid of me at this point.”

Bella watches the small interaction, surprised to see the blond vampire without his usual stoic facade. He’s like a completely different person, practically melting into your touch, and smiling. Actually smiling. And you look just as lovestruck.

“You guys make a cute couple,” she says, feeling a bit awkward when you turn your gaze back to her.

“Thanks Bells. You and Eddie make just as cute of one. I can’t wait to go to your wedding.”

The brunette flushes what must be the darkest shade of red possible, successfully mimicking a cherry. She shuffles away with some muttered excuse, and you can’t hold back a giggle.

“You’re evil, darlin’,” Jasper murmurs, shaking his head.

You flip around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck, “What! You know it’s going to happen. Edward’s completely smitten with that girl.”

“Still doesn’t mean you have to torture the poor thing,” he chastises, though he can’t hide the mirth in his tone.

“Fine. I guess I can take it easy on her,” you sigh dramatically, earning another chuckle from your mate.

“That’s my girl.”

You tuck yourself into his chest, hiding a truly ecstatic smile in his jacket. To this day, you still can’t believe that this is your life.

You really wouldn’t change anything about it. Not the bad things, not the start, none of it. You like to think your love is stronger because of it. And it will only continue to grow stronger every day for the rest of your eternity together.

You can’t wait to see where the two of you go.

---

This was not meant to get so edgy, but here we are. I never really know what I'm writing until it's finished.

Anyways! I hope you guys enjoyed the angst, hurt and comfort! A really fluffy fic will be coming next, and I am SO excited about it.

[mistydeyes]

fake hypochondriac

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hypochondria

hy·​po·​chon·​dria noun

excessive concern about one's health especially when accompanied by imagined physical ailments

summary: If an apple a day, keeps the doctor away then what keeps a pharmacist away? Whatever it is, Ghost wants to eradicate it. This man's small crush will send him to extremes. A sequel to "a panacea"

pairing: Ghost x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds, fluff, and flirting

a/n: by popular vote, ghost's sequel won! don't worry though, price's will be coming real soon ;)

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The unit had been a buzz about your work as a pharmacist officer. From clearing Gaz’s congestion to the ridiculous bandage you gave to Ghost, they simply would not stop talking about you. Soap even tried to convince the doctor that he needed to visit you for a malady of reasons but your colleagues were smarter than that. You had to give it to him, the fake food coloring blood applied to his stitches was a nice touch. It became a running joke in the medical wing. Some of your closest work friends even gushed about how the men would talk about you as if you had discovered the secrets to eternal life.

All joking aside, in all your years here, people had called you pet names and made small attempts at flirting but you always had your main goal on your mind: provide the best care so they can stop bothering me. However, one man caught your eye. No one would ever know that the masked man who wore a star bandaid was the one who stole your heart.

Of course, you’d never want anyone to have to constantly come visit you on the pretense of needing medication but you valued the time spent with him. Somehow he ended up needing every single vaccination. From pneumococcal to typhoid, you wondered if you should tell him that these were all voluntary.

Little did you know, he made every effort to miss the optional clinics and went straight to you upon his return. Your soft touch and even softer laugh were like music to his ears. He didn’t know how many people were graced by your presence like this but he tried to make himself the most memorable one.

His younger self would have laughed at his antics. His mother used to say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Even though you weren’t a doctor, he would cut down every apple tree and burn every pie if it meant seeing you daily.

One day, Soap gave him an idea. The team was ending another debriefing with Laswell and making conversation as they left the room. “I wish I could visit the lass but all she does is either give me my meds or gives her whatever you call recommendations” Soap groaned as he lugged the large number of building layouts and files in his arms.

“Pharmacological and non-pharm recommendations, Sergeant” Price corrected. “You better learn their terminology, they didn’t go to school and experience those muppets at the local chemist’s for nothing.”

That was it, Ghost would ask you for some silly non-pharm recommendation like Gaz had and keep coming up with new ailments to keep visiting you.

The plan was in place, following the lunch rush he walked to the medical wing and made his way to the pharmacy.

You stood in the back, answering yet another phone call from a doctor. “As I said before, you need to find out what their reaction is to penicillin and other beta-lactams. I don’t care if they say they have a true allergy, you know anaphylaxis is the only indicator. And no, I’m not ordering something off the formulary just because your patient says they were sneezing after a bout of amoxicillin. Just call me back after you spoke to them and if you really need it, then you know where to reach me.” With that, you slammed the phone down and let out a groan. You knew pharmacology was no doctor's favorite subject but this was antibiotics 101.

Your technician came around the corner, “Captain L/N, is everything alright?”

“You know we’ve been working together for what 2 years now? I’m just Y/N especially back here in this phone call hell.” you laughed as you sat down in your chair. “I’m alright, just another medic trying to get me to order something off the formulary for kicks”

“Well Y/N, there is someone here to see you. Just a soldier complaining of a sore throat. He says the doctors won’t prescribe anything because they haven’t observed anything wrong.” Your tech responded before disappearing amongst the shelves to fill some incoming scripts.

You made your way to the front where you were surprised to see Lt. Riley wearing a face mask (although still with the ghost print). Even though he had been coming for months now, live vaccines had to be spaced out by 28 days, you had not seen his face fully. His eyes were trained down and you noted his surprisingly light eyelashes. He still had the ever-present eye black and you wondered how he kept his lashes so pristine. If it was a mascara or a brand of makeup remover you needed to know!

“Simon,” you spoke in a cheerful voice. By now, you were on a first-name basis. It only took one tuberculosis skin test for him to encourage you to call him by his name. To be fair, when you held his arm gently to measure the area he would’ve told you anything.

“You aren’t due for any vaccinations you know. You’ve cleared me out! I’m sure the doctors would think I’m sticking you for my pleasure and your pain.” you joked. You were teasing but you knew there was no way he was here for yet another immunization.

“Not this time, love. I’ve got this tickle in my throat. It hurts when I swallow and I swear Soap saw my tonsils angry and inflamed,” he replied.

“And the doctor didn’t diagnose you with bronchitis or call for your tonsils to be removed?” you questioned. It wasn’t unusual for them to miss anything but you were realistically unable to prescribe anything to him.

“Well let me take a look. If you want to head over to the vaccination area then you can take your mask off. I’m sure you are familiar with where it is.” With that, he nodded and walked toward the designated area. He appreciated your kindness and that you valued his privacy.

You let your technician know where you’d be and they waved you off saying they could handle the onslaught of soldiers if it came to it.

As you entered the corned-off area, you saw Simon there, fiddling with his mask. You didn’t understand why he was so nervous, how could someone so well acquainted with violence be nervous of a flashlight and quick examination?

“Don’t worry, I’ll sure to be quick. I just need you to remove your mask and open up wide,” you explained and fished in your pocket for your pen light. To any recruit, they would’ve made a cheeky comment to your command but Simon obliged to your ask.

As he lowered your mask, you couldn’t help but admire the man in front of you. He was gorgeous. He looked like he was carved from a model like some Greek deity. His face was adorned by various silvery scars that looked painted on a portrait with metallic paint. His jawline was sharp and his lips were blush pink with an even sharper cupid’s bow. You made sure not to ogle for too long and began your assessment.

As you pointed your flashlight, you examined his throat and tonsils, trying to find if the doctor had missed anything. But when you saw no redness and his lymph nodes weren’t swollen, you didn’t know what to say.

“Hm, well good news and I guess bad news but I’m not seeing anything here. I’m not sure what to tell you but I wish I could help” you said in a defeated tone. You looked saddened by your lack of discovery and this made Simon want to scratch his whole plan.

“But,” you began, as he put on his mask, “my grandparents would always say ‘Y/N, all you need is to get some good rest and have a cup of tea with lemon’” you explained, trying your best to impersonate your best old person voice. Simon chuckled at your attempt. God, you really knew how to brighten someone’s day, and who could not love your sweet, grave voice?

“Sorry to take your time, love, but I’ll be sure to let you know,” he said and stood up before giving you a thankful look.

“The pleasure is all mine, Simon. I try to do what I can for one of my favorite patients,” you replied. You were laying on the flirting hard, something you would lie in bed cringing about later.

With that, he walked out of your little bubble and went about his day. You watched his muscular ass figure exit as you too returned to your day.

Although you thought you had cured him with some good advice, you were visited every other day for the next few weeks as he still had the same complaint. You had recommended everything following each checkup. From spoonfuls of honey and thyme lollies to encouraging hot showers and steam therapy, you were out of options. By what seemed like his 10th visit, you were prepared to march him down to radiology and make sure that this wasn’t some terrible looming illness.

“Still having that sore throat, huh?” you questioned as he walked through your doorway. He nodded in agreement and you picked up the landline. “I’m making a quick call, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“Hi, this is Captain. L/N. I have Lt. Riley here and he has been complaining of a sore throat for weeks. Is there any way the lab could run a throat culture as well as some blood work for me?”

And that’s how Simon ended up in the doctor’s office with a cotton swab down his throat and multiple needle pricks to his veins. He should’ve picked something more benign like reoccurring IBS but then again he might have ended up with a finger up his ass instead of the swab.

Two days later, you received a notification that the results were in. To your dismay, the results showed nothing. The swab was negative for every infection and his blood cell counts were all within normal range.

Frustrated, you told your tech you’d be back and walked your way to Cpt. Price’s office.

You knocked on the closed door hoping not to disturb the man. His baritone voice echoed into the hallway as he told you to enter.

“Hi Captain, sorry to bother you,” you said noting the mountain of paperwork on his desk as well as his extinguished pile of cigars. “But I was wondering if you had noticed anyone else in your unit with a sore throat. Lt. Riley has been coming to the pharmacy for a few weeks now and no one can figure it out.”

“Not that I know of. We haven’t run drills either so I know our quiet Ghost isn’t necessarily screaming at the recruits. He hasn’t come to me either with any complaints,” he explained and leaned back in his chair. He knew that Ghost was wasting your resources so he decided to let you in on a secret.

“As their commanding officer, you know I highly value the word of my men. But I do remember during my school days, that boys would tend to lie about an illness just to get sent to the infirmary and eventually home,” he explained. “It’s no secret that some soldiers, even Ghost, show a fondness for you.”

You blushed at his response, you couldn’t imagine that of all people, the stoic Ghost had a schoolboy crush on you. Hell, you hated your school nurse and always dreaded going to the doctor. You went days before telling your mom that you might have broken your finger during recess (you can still remember her rushing to the emergency room the minute she saw your bruised and puffy finger).

“I’ll talk to him the next time he comes in, which I hope he doesn’t,” you said, “thanks for the advice. And don’t forget, I always have a pack of nicotine gum for you if you ever decide to quit.” He chuckled and politely shooed you away. As you shut the door, you shook your head as you heard a lighter flick and smelled the familiar scent of a cigar.

Right on schedule, Simon came strolling into the pharmacy. You had just finished chatting with Soap and chastised him for yet another antibiotic prescription. This time it was for an infected foot wound after forgetting to change his socks and wading in still, grimy water during a mission.

As Soap gave you a cheeky smile saying he’d be back, Ghost tried to suppress his jealousy. Why did Soap have to be blessed with a purulent foot wound instead of him? Maybe he’ll try that one next.

“Ah Simon, I’m heading out to lunch if you’d like to join. I’m presuming it’s still the throat issue so I can check it out after.” You said and reached into the fridge under the counter to grab your food.

You made sure to lock up the pharmacy and lower the protective barriers, you couldn’t let anyone access the “good stuff.” Your tech said their goodbyes as they went to the mess hall for some warm food.

It was the dead of summer but today was surprisingly balmy. You knew there were some tables outside so you pushed the exit door and sat down on one side. He sat opposite you as you opened up your salad and half sandwich.

“So, can I tell your story?” you said before taking a bite. He nodded watching you intently.

“There was a time I broke my finger during recess and didn’t tell my mom for the next 3 days. You should’ve seen her face when I revealed my oozing, bruised ring finger. The thought of missing school and recess was devastating so I hid it like a child.” you explained and held up your left hand showing how your ring finger was slightly askew compared to the others. He laughed heartily, which made you also laugh in return.

After wiping some tears from your eyes you went on, “And that’s why my mom was so shocked when I got my MPharm. She always tells my dad that she doesn’t understand how someone so adverse to doctors went into healthcare.”

“We all have our weird obsessions, plus you are a natural,” he said and was almost at a loss for words as you smiled back at him, the sun hitting perfectly on your face and dancing in your hair.

“Anyways, I told Captain Price that story and he had such a different experience. He said that as a young lad, he and his mates would do anything it would take to get into the infirmary and home. I couldn't believe kids were so smart and had the forethought to plan something like that!”

Ghost knew where this was going. He also received notification that the tests came back clear of any illness. He knew the jig was up but couldn’t run away from the confrontation.

“Now, I’m not debunking your mystery illness, Simon. But I just wanted to talk to you privately and ask if there was anything else that you haven’t told me?” You asked and knew you had got him hook, line, and sinker. His eyes glancing around and his sweaty palms were confirmation of your theory.

He took a few moments to answer and you both sat in silence. You finished the remainder of your food and wiped your hands neatly as he stroke the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I guess I was just finding an excuse to talk to you,” he began to explain and you could see his extremities begin to grow flush. “I, uh, didn’t know how to so once I ran out of excuses with the shots, I decided to fake a sore throat,” he sheepishly replied.

With his confession, you couldn’t help but laugh. And laugh you did. Hard. It took you a minute before returning your composure.

“You know that the other soldiers can just have a regular conversation with me. I don’t bite and I swear I’ve talked Gaz’s ears off about pollen and flowers. I just feel bad now for making you undergo all those tests,” you said gently placing your hand on top of his.

“I do see what you mean though. If I had a doctor as handsome as you, I would have every illness, injury, and question under the sun.” You couldn’t leave him thinking you didn’t reciprocate your feelings. With that, it was your turn to blush.

“It’s rather childish isn’t it?” He said as he gently caressed your other free hand. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“How about you make it up to me with dinner? I can show you that there’s more than just textbook knowledge to me” you offered, “I know a surprising amount about languages, I can flirt with you in 10 different ones.”

“It’s a date, gorgeous. I’m all ears for anything you have to say,” he said and you both looked like lovesick teens, “As long as you keep this a secret. You know the doctors would never believe me if I actually got sick.”

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

After months of dating, you revealed a secret. “After I spoke to Price, I had a suspicion to check your medical record. You know I could see you never went to the doctor right? You never logged any visits for your alleged sore throat.” You said jokingly and lightly punched his shoulder. “I just can’t believe you roped everyone into it. I can have a normal conversation, babe.”

He laughed at your reveal and kissed the top of your forehead. “I just wanted to make sure your university course load prepared you for anything.”

[starzshopoflove]

Read the fine print

(141 x F!Reader)

Notes: This is concept is taken from herethereb3dragons on AO3 following a similar plot concept but not the same. Yes this is a omegaverse story I have no apologizes I wanna feed my brain worms.(Will be switching between first and second person in this writing) Summary: Lost your job after finding out your boss was committing federal crimes and the local economy crashes? Omega Re-housing services suddenly deciding to tighten their requirements? Sick of living in a shitty apartment alone everyday with no one to come home too? No problem! Just become a Contacted Companion to a military group overseas and never look back, full proof planning right?! A/N: This is a more intro chapter idk how to explain it but you'll get it when you start reading

WC: 2.4k

I could’ve been a nurse if I wanted too, or maybe I would have opened a cafe. Probably not, I hate blood, well I don't hate it. I just don't want to be around it everyday, I don't mind a cut or a ugly scab but then again that's always on my body. Owning my own business would stress me out, I can barely handle being 3 days behind on work, imagine not making enough to keep the shop open for another month I’d go into shock. 

On the other hand I’d probably not be in the position I'm in now If I had my own business or hell a medical degree. To be fair I couldn't predict this, I couldn't predict any of this no one could and if they did there’d be hell to pay from every single person in that fat shiny building downtown. Everything happened so fast, the market value crash, our manager getting arrested for embezzlement, the company housing getting repossessed, all our assets getting seized and sold. I wish I could lie and say it was a blur but it wasn’t, call it a trauma response but I remember every detail of that day from the moment the building shut down to signing away my dignity. 

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

Everything hurts, your back, your eyes and your legs. Oh yeah and you're sweating, gross right? Isn't it wonderful that they stuck the little archivist all the way in the back of the office in her own little office where she can do all her “important” work. All the way where no one can smell or see where they’re hiding all the omega employees, what a coincidence.

Yeah it's mid september and it's chilly outside but you’re boiling in here now and  the fabric of your jumper is sticking to you and everyone in here can smell you now. At this point all you wanted to do was run back to your office, peel off your jumper and wipe away all your sweat while drowning yourself in scent masker. Honestly it's humiliating, getting burnt up in your tiny room then being forced by your superior to trolly off all the files to the accounting department upstairs. 

You weren't in any danger of course most people were civilized and wouldnt attack you on sight or in this case on the whiff of unmarked omega scent. It still worried you, but no one could touch you here, not while you were an employee, not while you were safe under the watching eye of the corporate security cameras watching everyones every move. 

Doesn’t that make you feel a little safer? Always being watched? Yeah they could fire you for the littlest thing but you could be safe. The camera doesn't discriminate, the camera can't lie, the camera shows what happens and doesn't care if you’re Alpha or Omega.That reminder makes you feel a little safer when you're pushing your little cart into the elevator pushing the button for the 26th floor. It's not as hot in here as it was downstairs. 

You lean back a little on the bar between you and the mirror while your eyes stay trained on the little black screen of red letters rolling up as the elevator dragged you upstairs. Do you ever do that thing where you stare at the mirror like your face is gonna change the longer you look at it? You do now. 

Just standing in front of it poking at yourself, making sure there's no crust in your eyes, sometimes bearing your teeth to check that you don't have anything stuck in them. If you know what was going to happen you might have spent longer staring at yourself, capturing the moment maybe. 

You look tired, you are tired. Hollow eyes stared back at you in the mirror forcing you to look at how empty you were from the inside out. It was always day in day out move on. You didn't have time to think about mating, joining a pack hell even having kids. Wake up. Work. Go home. Trash TV. Sleep.

You try smiling and letting that go seeing if it would change anything. It didn't. Mirrors were more indifferent to you. Check if you’re clean and move on with your day not thinking too much about it. Elevators forced you to look at yourself they always do. There's no one else in here but you, the mirror and those 2 doors.

The little hum of mediocre elevator music churning out whatever pop tune combination the media had coined dead would be your last unknown moment of peace. 

When those elevator doors opened and you pushed out your little cart all you felt was the sudden slam of a body knocking your poor cart away. That alone ripped you out of your tired little haze forcing you to look around the room and see what was actually happening. 

The accounting department of U&G Food Supplising Inc.? In shambles 

The air of the floor felt thick, suffocating. Too many people were up out of their chairs, people were paired off to the side staring into their papers like life was drained out of them. Pale faces, and sweaty hands clambering around wire phones tuned out voices shouting into their speakers. The stress off of them was enough to start scaring you know. 

It was everywhere, one of the brokers was seated back in his chair holding papers in both hands with his phone pressed onto his ear yelling incomprehensible jargon into it while his eyes dizzied out on the papers he was holding. Others looked like they already lost hope standing in the middle with empty blank expressions that told you enough, they were probably savoring the last few moments of normalcy. 

A heavy buzz cut the air and that's when everything stopped. The market just closed, everything was so quiet. People stopped talking, staring at the big screen hooked up on the wall where a chart was displayed with its thick red line descending into the negatives. 

Papers were in the air, Phones were rattling off like crazy, Desks were flipped over and files covered the floor. Out of panic you might have started slamming the button on the elevator faster but you got the other side of the coin and was stumped in shock and maybe a little anger. 

All you wanted was a quiet boring life, is that so much to ask for? You got your degree in the most boring field possible, you got a job at the most mundane company that would hire you, you got a quiet little apartment tucked in the dreary part of town where nothing happens and you thought you finally won. Small victories you thought, I wont get forced to mate with anyone here, I can pass as a beta here, I can, I can, I can't. 

In hindsight you should've seen it coming, Omega Rehousing Authorities were getting stricter, The company was losing money and you were ignoring all of it. Until now where you were trapped in the corner of the accounting department where everyone was screaming and panicking when all you were trying to do was bundle up all your files and run back to your stuffy little room. 

Staying on the ground was safer then standing up I think, you can just stay down here on your knees trying to gather all the papers you can so you can slam on the elevator as hard as possible to get you back to safety. Yeah! Just keep grabbing papers, don't think about the Alpha across the room practically tearing out that betas throat, or those 2 slightly to your right scruffing at each other to grab as much cash as possible. You won't get in trouble right? You're just an archivist delivering papers, you don't know what's happening but that's a good thing. You don't know what's happening and it's bad because now you're holding all your papers to your chest and you don't have any scent masker practically leaking your scent everywhere while there's so much yelling.

Keep ignoring it you’ll be alright, there's police here but they're not here for you, keep ignoring it. Yes the screaming and yelling is getting louder while there are people getting arrested but you're still under your illusion of safety so keep ignoring it. There's nothing wrong, get your papers and leave there's nothing wrong you can't hear anything no one's calling your name just stand up and leave.

But there is someone calling your name, your full name.  With your Identification number. 

Pulling your head up felt like dragging it out of water and meeting the eyes of 3 ORA agents in crispy black suits and sunglasses did not help with your anxiety when you were stuck down on the floor. 

“We’re with the Omega Re-Housing Authority, we’d like to speak with you” 

_____________

That's when everything started moving faster and phasing out until I realized I was in a new room. The room felt sterile, steel table, plain gray walls, the uncomfortable plastic chair I was stuck in. My heart was rattling inside my chest and I kept breathing in for more air but every breath felt stale and dry no matter how many times I sipped at the little plastic cup they gave me. 

Why was I here? What did I do? I didn't know what was going on, I had all my paperwork, I had a job and a house they can't take me away can they?

That creaky door opening and shutting dragged my attention away to the ORA agent in front of me. They look less threatening without the glasses, it doesn't help much but seeing their eyes makes them look more human. He looked like he was pitying me and that just made the bile in me churn, I felt like I was in trouble. 

He took his seat right in front of me, placing down a plain manilla folder on the cold steel table before he folded and placed his hands on top. God, when he looked at me I thought I was gonna be sick. I bet he could feel the fear weeping out of me, I didn't have anything on me. I didn't feel safe without my scent masker or some sort of suppressant. I didn't make it this far passing as a Beta without them, now I felt like I was waving a white flag screaming Omega.

All the anxiety from years of drifting through life poured through you since you got your class as omega. You wanted to hide in a thousand layers never to be seen again. Where no one could see, touch or hear you. An isolation but a safe comfort like how you made your home. The one you will shortly no longer be able to afford. 

You tried making friends you really did, you had friends but then something inside you would rear its ugly head out and whisper for you too leave them alone how much you're bothering them can't you see?

 So you would let it slip through the cracks. One missed plan turns to another and suddenly you spend every afternoon curled up on your beat couch watching drag reruns on cable tv in your dingy apartment thinking this is better than being out and feeling your stress turn your guts around.  

Now look at you! Sitting in a ORA “interview room” probably about to be shipped out to some random alpha in the middle of nowhere shucking corn for the rest of your life popping out babies you can't afford. The worst part is no one would notice! 

“You’re not in trouble Ma’am”

‘Yeah thanks for that buddy.’ I wish I could say that but I just kept staring at him, more watching his lips move than hearing him speak. I caught some words here and there of “Bankruptcy” and “Liquidation”. By the end of it from what I can tell is Im unemployed and soon to be homeless. I could move in with my mom, or maybe my sister then ORA couldn't relocate me at least, they won't have the chance to. 

The last time I sent my papers my mom passed as the register on my guardian substitute. I'm not sure if they’ll take it again, Beta guardians work but If regulations keep changing they might start demanding she terminate her rights and they assign me to an Alpha. 

How sick is that? I spend my whole life fighting tooth and nail acting like nothing scares me, trying to prove I can fend for myself and don't need a pack. I did everything by the book and I still got stuck in the chair everyone told me I’d never end up in.

I should be angry, I should be boiling and here I am shaking like a leaf in this chair playing in the pliant and meek omega stereotype, fantastic.

Sliding the folder over to me on the table the ORA agent opened up the folder, sliding his hands over to his pocket to pull out a fountain pen. He cleared his throat almost condescendingly as he uncapped his pen, tapping it onto the paper in the folder. 

Is it weird I forgot he was there? Everything started meshing together when I heard him say I wasn't in trouble. I mean I didn't completely forget, his scent was basically choking me forcing his presence to be made aware. I'm listening now but I wish I could roll over and sink into the floor.

“ORA would like to offer you an employment opportunity, aboard.”

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

 TERMS OF EMPLOYMENT 

1.)i.) Signing party will be placed under the employment of STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL and CAPTAIN JONATHAN PRICE

  ii.)Singing party will be taken as a pack member to Task Force 141, bearing responsibilities of archival tasks, moral support, and contracted companionship. 

2.) Signing party will be salaried, paid biweekly on fixed income. 

   i.) Signing party will be provided private quarters on base 

   ii.) Signing parties quarters will be located by the nearest employer 

  iii.) Signing party will not be obligated to travel in deployment or relocated without prior consent 

iv.) Signed parties quarters will be furnished as usual, any additions will be added upon request. 

3.) Signed party is under no obligation to complete orders from any authority not listed within this contract. 

SIGNATURE : ________________     INITIALS: ______________

“You gotta be fucking kidding me”

I hope u guys like it please leave a comment if you do and dont be afraid to ask or suggest any ideas you would like too see from me in other works or in this! - lots of love star <3

[delusionalwings]

can you do barbatos, mammon and simeon with a darling that’s physically weaker than most people? like they’re lethargic, can’t lift heavy things, pass out sometimes just from standing too long, etc.

― synopsis -> with a darling who's physically weaker than most

― characters -> mammon, barbatos, simeon

― gender neutral reader

― headcanons

― warnings -> yandere behavior, induced dependence on him (everyone), gambling, making you feel guilty, disregarding you (mammon), mentions of kidnapping, mentions of anger and violence, emotional manipulation (simeon), mentions of kidnapping, treats you like an object (barbatos)

hope this is fine!

MAMMON

First and foremost, he is glad that you don't have the strength to hang out with those other lower demons grrrr. You are his trophy and it will remain that way.

"Dontcha worry! The Great Mammon looks after his servants," he announces before using your ailment as a reason to borrow more money and gamble it all away.

He truly wants to make a fortune so that he can take you to a doctor and offer you a better life. As a result, however, he just invites more debt and a long lecture from Lucifer.

"Don't you look so concerned about me! I will find a way to make quick money and take you somewhere better."

Your pleas for him to stop fall on deaf ears. His schemes make you feel guilty; it makes you wish that you could do more for him. The bruises on his face that he clumsily tries to hide makes you feel pathetic. Since he is working so hard for you, you wonder what can you give him in return.

But then again, why can't your words be valued? Why can't he respect your wishes? Especially when his way is sure to fail? He seems to believe that since you can't get up and stop him because of your health, he would do his bidding anyway. It's almost as if you're a noble excuse for him to gamble more, without any restraint or fear or guilt.

That's how he starts returning to you with a downcast face every single day to confess the amount that he lost while you lie there, feeling mentally exhausted too, blaming and cursing yourself.

BARBATOS

Hmm... It does pose a problem but since every problem has a solution and Barbatos knows them all, he solves your dilemma too.

All you need to do is smile for him and help him relax during the rare times he is free. Other than that, worry neither about making a living nor about having any kind of freedom. So it doesn't matter if you are incapable of extreme physical exertion. There shall be no need for that when you have magic and Barbatos.

You will be provided for and get your condition checked by the best doctors and magicians. If anything, you are in very capable hands so you can just sit back and let him make all the decisions for you. Focus all your energy in resting and thinking about him till you are needed to act like you are living.

When he tells you to get up, you will get up. When he orders you to entertain him, you will obey. But be assured that he won't go out of his way to torment you physically. There's no merit in it when you can't help yourself. But you will mentally stimulate him, even when your mind is in shambles because of physical pain. You will need to push yourself often with Barbatos. It's your voluntary obedience that he desires and he will take it.

You need to learn proper etiquettes in his presence. He is your master and you need to be perfect wherever you can.

He is at ease knowing that you won't run away anytime soon so he can perform his own duties in peace. Still he is always on the watch.

SIMEON

You have your angel at your beck and call. Leave all the heavy lifting to him. All the housework is his job anyway. What else can one do when they have taken you away from the entire world? You are his duty now.

Sit down, lie down and give him cuddles, validate him, love him. He is still shy about holding you close but he enjoys your warmth and wants to get more familiar with your touch. So instead of spending the time working, take rest and let him take care of you. And when he returns tired each day, be a sweet angel for him.

It isn't like you are completely unable to use your body. A little movement here and there actually helps but Simeon doesn't believe that. Why are you getting up? No no, you will get sick. He is overcautious, to the point of hysteria.

What will he do with you if something happened to you? What will you do without him? Work yourself into some life threatening ilness!

An angry Simeon is bad news and you learn about it when you find yourself in a situation where you can't even run away. You are trapped and exhausted, scared and alert and you never escape without bruises. Sometimes he only fumes over your unconscious body before turning around.

Despite that, he always apologises, asks you to understand that it is your fault for pushing him so far. If only you had listened to him, he would have maintained his composure. Then he applies ointment on your wounds and tells you to rest. You will listen to him this time, won't you? After you saw what he is capable of otherwise, you must.

He is already upset about hurting you so he wants you to rest till you feel better. If you feel bored or want to get out of the house, he reads you various books so that you can imagine the wonders of the world. Even if you can't visit these places because of your health, you can always picture travelling there with Simeon. Imagine Simeon guiding you to the ends of the world. Always there to pamper you.

[circuscountdowns]

Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

[julcia404]

Lost Scenes Thursday! Get to know your favourite authors better. Show five scenes from either abandoned fics where you regret they will never see the light of day, or five scenes from WIPs where you are impatient to see them out there. Long, short, one-liner... it's all good reading. Tag five other authors where you are curious.

(feel free to ignore it though :))

Heya, my fabulous one ♡

Alright, five scenes...let's see how many I can actually find that I'm willing to share 🤭 please keep in mind that they all still need different amounts of (heavy) editing and probably rearrangements, and that I don’t know if or when I'll ever find the courage to actually finish and post them...yadda yadda...here goes nothing 😅

Those first two are from the same WIP that originally was an idea I had for a Duskwood-fanfic (and initially inspired by songs - many of my ideas are 🤭), but I was thinking about turning it into something original...maybe...in 500 years...

Sister Sun Brother Moon / You Only Want Me 'Cause You Want My Sister - Part 1

She is the sun, the center of our little solar system. Everything revolves around her, everyone here builds their lives around her. Like planets, dwarf planets, asteroids, meteoroids, comets, dust clouds...they all orbit the sun. But when she's there, nothing else can be seen anymore: everyone looks at her and she leaves them blind for other things. People hurt themselves for the sun, to be able to get a ray of her all-encompassing light and to feel a little warmth. But it’s a hazardous, harsh warmth - and her blinding and glaring light, it outshines everything else.

They're not able to grasp that though - we humans really are a dumb race. Like Icarus, they burn their wings while trying to get close to her. They feel drawn to her like a moth to the light and once they reach their goal, they realize that it isn’t as great as suspected. But it’s too late then.

She outshines everything and everyone, leaving no room for anyone else's light, and burning them alive. When the sun comes up, the planets and stars fade away and she's the only visible thing...

She has to go.

I don’t want to be a distant star anymore.

Sister Sun Brother Moon / You Only Want Me 'Cause You Want My Sister - Part 2

However, I was never one of them. I was an outsider, an outcast, someone who watched but never took part. Lilly the observer, the cute little wallflower, hiding in the shadows of others. Oh, if only they knew what worlds exist in my mind! It’s time for me to finally get involved, it's time for some chaos. I don’t want to be invisible anymore - I want to be seen. Noticed. Acknowledged. Accepted and valued even, if I'm lucky. But being seen and respected would be enough, even if it means that I have to throw their worlds into chaos.

Whether they like it or not - they will notice me. I'll make sure they do.

This one is a Duskwood-fanfic, and it’s...angsty and depressing 🙈 it’s a looong scene, so let's count it as two, alright? or maybe as a one-shot that never got finished?

Imposter

The moon painted beautiful shadows on the wall as I watched you silently sleeping on my bed. My tears started falling, and my heart was breaking. Again. This is not how I imagined love. This is not what I imagined for me and the man that I have deeply fallen in love with. I know that you feel the same, but I don't have the courage to talk with you about it. How can I ever tell you how much it hurts without collapsing right in front of you? Without dragging you down with me? Every day, I pretend that everything is alright. That I am alright. That you are alright. That we are alright, goddammit! That everything is going to be fine in the end. But it's killing me every time I see you, especially when you say how much you love me and that you would do anything for me. It shatters me into pieces every single damn time you touch me. I don't know how long I can bear this anymore, but I wish you knew how much I'm willing to go with you. To just be with you. And how much it hurts me that I'm not able to do so.

I try to suck you in, to burn your picture into my soul, in a desperate attempt to not forget what we shared. What we felt. What we admitted to each other, in silent whispers and giggles. The love that we gave to each other.

So I'm sitting here in the middle of the night, not able to sleep, fearing the first light of the sun...because you'll be gone in the morning. You're always gone in the morning. And I'll still be here, alone and isolated, mourning the loss of your presence once again. Again...again and again. When will we see each other again? Will you be back tomorrow? Next week? Next month?

...never?

Will we see each other again? I'm tired of the constant grief, but it is how it is. If that’s the price I have to pay to be with you, I'll gladly go broke.

I know you feel the same, I saw it in your eyes every time we had to say goodbye. I know, that’s why you prefer to leave while I'm still asleep now. It breaks your heart just as much as it breaks mine. Will it ever end? How long will we manage to go on like this before our hearts finally break for the last time? How much will be left of us then? Will you ever be free, truly free? Free from me? Or is this our life now:

You on the run - I'm not able to run. Because my body is broken and I'm a burden for everyone to be around. Why do you love me? Why are you still here with me, why are you doing this to yourself? You could do so much better without me...I wish you would just leave me and try to find happiness somewhere else, far away from my burdening love and your twisted sense of duty that’s holding you captive. Because I'm not enough, that’s for certain.

But I don’t want you to go. If I could, I would keep you for the rest of my life in this little room. It's not a long life anyway, so maybe, just a few years from now, you'll be free. Free from me. Free from that nuisance, from my miserable existence. I feel guilty that you love me. I don’t deserve it. I can’t stop thinking that I somehow manipulated you into this whole thing, that you love a picture of me I created for the outside, for the world to see. But deep inside, I'm miserable and empty and barely holding on. My ugly and broken shards are all over the place and here, in my little room, I can’t hide them. I'm deathly afraid that you'll one day wake up and finally see the truth, the ugly and monstruous reality of my pointless life, and then you'll run - finally run away from me - I'm sure of that.

And I dread that day just as much as I want it to finally come.

Alright, let's end with something lighter...this is the beginning of a possible short story that demanded to be put into words, and started as random rambling in my most favorite discord-server 🤭💙

Spunky

It was late at night when I heard a distant 'meow'. Weird, considering that I live in a building where no pets are allowed...but yet here I was, listening to these feline sounds. Where did it come from, and most importantly - how? How was that possible? I live on the fifth floor and a cat in the hallway would've been noticed by my neighbors. Especially Mr. Wilkinson, who was always on the lookout for possible rule breakers to report them to the landlord.

I groaned and decided that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep now anyway, so I got up and searched for the source of these unusual sounds in my apartment.

But when I entered the kitchen, something changed: it was quiet - absolutely quiet. I wasn’t able to hear anything, not even my own movements, and that was quite an unpleasant feeling. I'm not a person that's easy to impress, or scare, but this situation made me feel a bit…uncomfortable. The wind at my windows, the noise of the city, the creaking old walls of this house, the snores of the kind lady next door, my other neighbor's TV, the buzzing of my fridge, my breath, my heartbeat, any sign of the world - gone. As if everything stopped existing altogether. As if I was living in a thick, deafening vacuum with no way out. Ironically, I was holding my breath while I tried to find out which otherworldly thing caused this unsettling situation, when suddenly…‘meow’.

I jumped higher than humanly possible, frightened and with a high-pitched shriek. What the fuck was happening here? What did I walk into? I should have listened to my mother when she told me not to live alone…or at least not in this apartment, where the previous tenant passed away and wasn’t found for almost two weeks. Mr. Wilkinson, that nosy neighbor with no sense of privacy, felt the need to tell me everything about my predecessor on my first day in my new home, and that she definitely had a pet, against every rule, but always denied it. Well, a pet was never found, the suspected pet owner on the other hand…what a warm welcome.

‘Meooooow…’ Again! Where did that come from? I turned around, trying to locate the direction of those laments, but it was quiet again.

That's it for now 🤭 I hope you liked some of them...

thank you for the ask ♡

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation: Brownie Boy [18]

I've never really been much of a skeptic. If it has a name and a meaning, I think there's always a possibility for it to be real.

Take dreams, for example. In my mind, they always have some kind of connection to the waking world and to the psyche. Your mind knows your greatest fears and your crutches— if you lose teeth in a dream, you feel like you have a loss of control. If you search up something on Google for an answer while in a dream, you lack at decision-making.

There's meaning in everything we do. And our minds, while belonging to us, have an entire personality of their own. Once our conscious shuts off, our brain makes its own decisions. We are but a shell for our mind to manipulate. And this is why we see what we fear most in our dreams— what we love most, what we value most, what we appreciate. Our dreams are what we want and despise most on this earth.

So tell me why the fuck Sal has been in my dreams for the past week.

It's despicable. It aggravates me to no end. Every dream is some rendition of his sky blue eyes glaring into mine. Discreet touches-- his fingers brushing the back of my thighs, his hair on my neck, his leg pressed against mine.

"Y/n, there's three customers up front waiting for a table."

Michael's voice beside me is suddenly followed by his hand clapping onto my shoulder. I flinch in surprise, turning away from the chef with my hands full and my anxiety maxed out.

"I'm not hosting right now," I say frantically, glancing between my fellow coworker and the chef. A lot of the work that I don't normally get has been dropped on me the past few days and I really haven't been appreciative of it. I say that sarcastically, of course. And I don't blame Michael-- he isn't at fault, he's just delivering orders to me that are coming from the boss.

But as of current, I'm sweating from rushing around for lunch, and that's also mixed in with how nervous I am. I can't even take a single breath without someone telling me I have something else to do.

And the reasoning behind this? According to my boss it's, "because you were out so long, you have to make up for the work you missed out on."

An empty wallet has never looked so appetizing before.

"Here's a proposition," Mike says, leaning against the counter beside me. The chef is done with our shit. Usually if we talk to him, he stays silent anyway. "You grab those fellas up front to make our boss happy and I'll take a few of your tables. Sound good?"

I look up at Michael with the best puppy dog eyes I can possible muster up. "Please," I whisper, cracking my knuckles and bunching up the fabric of my apron in my hands.

Michael grins and pushes off the counter, stretching his arms. "Sure thing. You might want to get up there before Mr. Krabs comes stomping out of his glory hole, though."

That makes me perk up a bit. A hand slaps over my mouth to contain my internal giggles just as Mike shoots me a wink and walks off to one of my tables, likely to inform them that he'll be their server.

It's bad and I'd certainly rather be anywhere but here, but I can make do for now, especially if it means repaying Michael for all his help. So I ignore the anxiety (said anxiety is so anxious that we're both trembling) and I walk over to the front of the restaurant to sit some hungry customers.

Thankfully, most of the rest of my short-ish shift slowed down a bit after lunchtime. Upon finally reaching my apartment at about two in the afternoon, I quite literally launched myself into bed and... consequently, I wished I was working again.

For the past two hours, I've sat here staring at my ceiling and reminiscing on my recent past. Thinking about the opportunities I took and missed. Remembering all the fun I had, just wishing I was back with my friends in Las Vegas. It's been a little over a week and June is finally here, but it still feels like I was sleeping in with my best friend just last night.

Thinking about what I've lost and gained within the past month or so is both depressing and incriminating. The sheer amount of down-bad that overran my body is impressive, but wasn't worth it. Never was worth it.

I've slain myself with the sword I wielded. And it was only a matter of time— I knew the consequences, yet I still went along with it. It's not that I'm sad or whatever, I'm merely disappointed in myself for getting involved with someone so heartless and vile.

I feel like I've betrayed myself. I was nothing but a speck and I knew that, but I still allowed myself to be used. That's what everyone would say, and it's what I'm starting to feel. Is that all I am? Is this all I ever will be to someone? Just a body with no mind. Something to be used and defiled over and over again.

By far, the worst pile drive of grief came from having to see photo after photo of Sal and I together on every social media site in existence. It was painful in an unfamiliar way-- a way that I don't quite understand. It was all photos of photos, photos I didn't even realize existed, or the two of us with fans. I clearly remember liking the pictures that Lexi and Kennedy posted. Oh, and apparently the handsome emo knight's name is Timothy. But even the nice memories of my time in Las Vegas doesn't feel as comforting as it once did.

Everything I experienced with my friends is slowly being altered every second that I'm alive. The way I lived in Vegas will never be exactly the same as I remember it now. Being aware of psychological changes is damning. It's depressing. I will never experience anything, or those memories, the same way I did at the time I was really there.

Fuck you, Freud.

My ceiling spins above me, a kaleidoscope of misery and darkness that I haven't suffered through since before being diagnosed with depression. I'm not even quite sure what it is that I'm so down about-- missing Las Vegas, feeling far from my friends, or Sal's asshole persona. It's something, but I feel sick being so torn up over something that's perceived as trivial by everyone else.

Why do I have to care so much? No one else is like this. So why me?

I pinch my lips together, finishing my recount of the tiles on my ceiling. There are 133 whole tiles. 24 half tiles. Add them together and there are 157 total, but it feels weird to bunch those two shapes together when they're clearly different.

I feel like I'm going insane.

Before I can think harder about how frustrated I am with myself, I force myself to sit up then sling myself out of bed. My heels smack into the floor beneath me, cushioned by grey carpet. It's saved my soles, but it can't buffer the deep grief in my heart. A grief that has no explanation or source.

This afternoon will be the first time I play online with The Faces since before Vegas. The first time I see my friends in a week. The first time I face Sal since briefly making eye contact with him the morning I left Nevada (he didn't even bother to come to the airport with the rest of us). And most importantly, the very first time I show my face while streaming-- and of course, when I say my face, I mean my mask. But I haven't shown myself at all. Anything that anyone has ever seen of me has been from pictures shared on social media.

For once, I'm not terrified by the prospect. I'm more worried about having to face Sally Face and more than eager to talk with Ash again. I really, really miss her.

I'm bundled up in my trusty Twenty One Pilots sweatpants (that are still falling apart), Ash's merch hoodie, and slip on the brand new pair of Kuromi slippers that my dad had waiting for me when I got home. If I'm going to endure the hell-spawn that is Sal Fisher, I might as well be comfortable.

A sigh slips past my lips as I drag my feet over to my PC and turn it on, slumping into my chair. I grab my mask that's been sitting on my desk, untouched for days, and fix it onto my face.

My computer whirrs to life as I stare blankly ahead, slipping into a hypnotic state. Dissociating. Wishing this life was anyone else's but mine.

I blink past my own distracting mental state after mere seconds of waiting for things to get moving. I log onto Discord, clicking into The Faces' server and catching up on all the messages I missed.

The first thing I notice is that Ash, the owner of the server, has apparently discovered that she can change everyone's names. Which, honestly, is news to me. It's apparently causing an uproar in-chat.

Two Face: haha. funny ash. hilarious. very original.

Subtract Thine Father: wut did u expect from Ash??? unicorn cum nd fairy shit???? Subtract Thine Father: omfg mine is rad

He Who Pegs: Much like the joke you made in Vegas, right, Sal? He Who Pegs: My username is correct. I am a pegger.

I'm scared to find out what my new name is. These are personal attacks on absolutely every single member of this chat.

With quaking hands, I type out a quick message and hesitate before pressing send. I'm terrified of what Ash has managed to come up with. But it's whatever, surely it couldn't get worse than Two Face, right?

Closet Dweller: these are horrendously accurate names... i'm a little scared...

My stomach flies out of my ass when I see my name. Good God, I'm not sure how Ash managed to come up with that one but... it's not too far off the marker. I'll give her props.

Closet Dweller: dear god.

Subtract Thine Father: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO VI

He Who Pegs: Do I smell a fellow homosexual?

Closet Dweller: i will neither confirm nor deny. maybe i'm just locked in my mother's closet or something, ever think of that?

He Who Pegs: Like an Oedipus Complex?

Closet Dweller: NO TODD!!! NO!!!!!!!

It's impressive how simple socialization has managed to cheer me up a bit. I know Todd is really into psychology like I am, so I'm not surprised that he threw something like that in, but I am shocked that he hit me with a joke that heavy.

He Who Pegs: Laughing my ass off.

Subtract Thine Father: srsly todd, just abbreviate it i'm guna die of erection Subtract Thine Father: embarasment**

He Who Pegs: That was an epic fail and epic foreshadowing. Bravo, Larry. Quite the Freudian slip.

I shake my head at my two friends, tears brimming my eyes as I try to contain the fit of laughter that so desperately wants to be released.

Closet Dweller: what's ash's name?

Kween Pussy Popper: Hi :3

I have to shut my eyes and look away from the screen. Her name is funny enough, but her little emote and the casual entrance just makes this entire thing ten times funnier.

My hand slaps over my mouth and I shake my head, tapping my fingers against my desk. I'm so going to get in trouble with these people.

I'm going to cough up a lung or something later, but it'll be worth it, so I look up at my computer again.

Subtract Thine Father: waddup pussy kween Subtract Thine Father: can u share sum bc i am lacking. Subtract Thine Father: u kno how the grinch's heart grows 4 xmas? well my dick shrinks the longer i go wo a snazzy lady Subtract Thine Father: save a horse ride a cowboy, as they say Subtract Thine Father: i am the cowboy. where r my bitches??????? lonesome. desperate. choking. dying.

The chat goes quiet momentarily so I smile and scoot away from my desk. The objective was to roll across the floor-- no, glide-- and look like some kind of fairy in slo-mo, but I forgot that I have carpeted flooring. So my chair rolls for not even a second before coming to an abrupt stop. Pathetic and not so glorious.

My smile slips off my face as I push myself off the chair and walk across the rest of my room to my bedroom door. Lame. 

Getting to talk with everyone has really upped my spirits in a way I didn't expect. It's really odd how the little things just so happen to matter so much when even big things don't seem to matter as much anymore. Even I don't feel like I matter much anymore, but Larry, Ash, and Todd somehow manage to remind me that they care in their own little ways. Whether it's through goofy conversations that don't even include me or silly nicknames, they're the sole reason for my overflowing dopamine.

My feet pad through the hallway and into the kitchen where I get my hands on the #1 best struggle meal that America has to offer.

Microwaveable ramen. Beef, specifically.

The funniest thing about microwaveable ramen is that hardly anyone makes it the right way. And if you do make it the right way, great job! You have an extra brain cell. The rest of us heathens, on the other hand, put the little styrofoam cup in the radiation incubation tank anyway and call it a day. Warnings be damned. 

So I walk back to my room with my little cup of ramen, styrofoam nice and warm, fresh out the microwave for all my haters, and I plop back into my desk chair with chopsticks at the ready.

But my eyebrows furrow when I place my headset back on and catch up on the Discord conversation I'd walked away from.

Kween Pussy Popper: Can we get on a call now? I miss Vi and starting early is my excuse to talk to her now :(  Kween Pussy Popper: OMGGG!!! It's also a really big day bc Vi is going to be on camera for once!!! eeeee >.<

Subtract Thine Father: ya getin on now >:)

I scroll down on all our channels to find all four members of The Faces in Ash's VC. I'm late to the party. Now, the issue with this is... I'm stuck. My cursor hovers over the voice channel, but I just can't find it in myself to actually click on the thing. My finger lightly sits on top of the mouse, ready to press down but I can't. My heart physically jumps into my throat, choking me with emotion and grief and unadulterated fear that has absolutely no fucking business hanging around in my body like this.

Truth be told, I knew I'd get tired of my fear sooner or later. I'd get so tired that I'd just grab my issue by the balls and disrespect it doggy style. And I'm close-- so close to finally following through with this aggressive exhaustion. But I need one more excuse to tip me over the metaphorical edge. 

My chopsticks dip into my steaming ramen and pick up brothy goodness in noodle form. I slurp up the last bit of dignity I need to be restored and finally click on the option that launches me into the chat before I can stop myself again.

Only, when I do this, I'm staring at all four other members of our server... but also myself. Noodles hanging out of my mouth, broth drip-dropping onto my desk because I'm a messy eater. Dignity not restored, but even more lost in exchange. 

I love life so much. Note the sarcasm.

Larry grins while everyone else kind of watches me, stuck like a deer in headlights and unable to just eat my food like a normal human being. "Gobble, gobble, Closet Dweller," are Larry's first four physically spoken words to me since I hugged him goodbye in the Las Vegas airport about a week ago.

A small smile tugs at my own lips as I quickly suck the rest of my way too big bite of noodles into my mouth and, well, gobble as Larry suggested.

"Closet Dweller was targeted. I'm only a little offended, but I think that name would be better suited for Todd, right?" I ask, eyes glancing between Ash, Larry, and Todd on the screen while purposefully avoiding a no doubt brooding Sal. I refuse to look at him.

Ash's nose scrunches up in disagreement, her melodic voice flowing through my headphones to follow the action. "Todd is out of the closet. You, on the other hand, are still playing hide and seek behind your mom's pajamas like you're looking for a passage to Narnia. Plus, Todd is a renowned pegger."

Todd nods, pinching his lips together. I wait for him to laugh and say 'Jay kay' or something, you know, odd like he is, but he doesn't. And even freakier is that no one seems alarmed.

"He also has a shirt that says 'I got pegged at Cracker Barrel' so no one is more worthy of that nickname than him. King Arthur ain't got shit on my guy," Ash chirps proudly, tilting her chin up with a little smirk on her lips. Her cat ear headphones glow a bright green, reflecting the joy and pride she feels regarding the nickname she came up with.

My eyebrows pinch together beneath my mask and my attention turns to Todd. "You have a shirt that says 'I got pegged at Cracker Barrel?'"

Todd gives me the sweetest little upside down smile and quickly rises from his seat, showing off the back wall of his room that is... plain as fuck, to be quite honest. But that's okay because Todd is organized, so it's only fair that his walls are organized as well. 

Todd reappears just two seconds later, holding up a long-sleeved, mustard yellow shirt that says exactly what he and Ash claimed it would.

I break into a face-splitting grin. "That's sick," I voice, moving closer to my computer to get a better look at the shirt. I didn't lie either. I'd assassinate some really important government leaders to get my hands on that.

"See! You're such a closet hermit!" Ash exclaims, pointing a finger at me with wide eyes and an open-mouthed smile.

"Since when?" I counter, crossing my arms over my chest good-naturedly. This is all in fun, Ash knows damn well I wouldn't have kissed her or even entertained the idea if I wasn't a little fruity. "Sal should get the nickname, he was the one trying to bed Hot Excalibur Emo Knight."

Yea, the acknowledgement and statement left my lips before I could remember that I was inadvertently giving Sally Face the silent treatment. Hades' personal hellhound is a taboo here. That man is a curse word in this house. I set myself up and now I have to put a quarter into my mental swear jar.

I note how Sal shifts in his seat out of the corner of my eye. Not that I care. In fact, I saw nothing.

"You're missing the point, Vi!" Ash shakes her head, faux disappointment marring her meticulously designed facial features. "Sal is out of the closet. He's as much of a cooked noodle as he is a raw one." Her distinction between gay and straight is fascinating. "You, on the other hand, are a recluse and hiding betwixt MawMaw bras and old, dusty infinity scarves from your mother's regretted youth. You want a different name, then come out of your hidey-hole already."

My jaw drops and I stare at my friend who looks quite proud of her outlandish accusations, even if they aren't so outlandish.

Larry is red-faced and Todd couldn't care less; he's too busy folding up his Cracker Barrel shirt. 

"How come I'm a target today?" I snicker, leaning my head on my fist as I look back at my best friend. 

"Because I'm feeling extra aggressive and a little frisky. In other words, the fruit is ripe. Flirt with me and I'll be in your bed within two to five business minutes," Ash winks at me, tongue swiping along her bottom lip.

I frown. "Well that sucks. I don't have any good pick-up lines. I only have really shitty psychology jokes. I guess I'll be sleeping alone tonight." I sigh and take another bite of ramen, dramatically looking off into the distance-- which is just the wall behind my computer. Blank space, baby.

"There's so much sexual tension packed into you two that I'm starting to suffocate," Larry pipes up, voice soft and astonished. "I'm drowning and I love it." He has stars in his wide, hickory-colored eyes.

I can't stop smiling. This expression is permanently etched onto my face, a tattoo. "We're just picking, Lar. Don't get your hopes up."

"Picking?" Ash gasps, feigning shock. She leans back with a hand to her chest. "All this time, your affection was a lie?"

"Alas, it was never real," I reply, dipping my head down to hide the my happy smile again. I have to play my part, but I can't do that with my face set like this.

Larry cackles in response. "The one woman you can't get, Ash!" He exclaims, wild giggles filtering through the call. I look up again, watching the way Ash's eyes narrow.

"I never thought this would happen to me. Not my Vivi..." She trails off, shutting her eyes to express her sadness.

"The fuck did you expect?" Larry prods, scooting close to his camera so that all we see is the bridge of his nose, dark eyes, and his thick brows-- one is arched in question. "Unicorn guts and fairy shit?" He quotes himself beautifully, reusing his remark from in-chat. "Fellatio and scissoring? This isn't Disney, Ash. If anything, we're wrapped up in a Grimm Brothers' fairytale."

I have to put my fist over my mouth to hide my reaction because that's the most accurate thing that Larry has said all day. And he even brought out big boy words like fellatio. Has he been studying?

Sal lets a boyish chuckle slip and my gaze cuts to him despite my better judgement. He's bent down, instinctually covering the mouth of his prosthetic, seemingly forgetting that we can't actually see his facial expression. It's such a normal action, one that I'm not used to when it comes to him. It's a moment where I can't look away. A rare moment where I get that weird feeling for him again-- one that I've only experienced maybe three times since meeting him. It's that domestic and naive feeling, where he's a normal person that I yearn for a bit. He's not an asshole, he's not hidden behind a prosthetic. He's just a guy that I know. A guy that I'd like to touch and see and feel on a deeper level.

I blink when he tilts his head back, revealing his pretty dagger tattoo and a veiny hand that runs through his hair. He pushes his fringe back, making little blue strands stick up in different directions.  

I can't help but straighten my sitting position. Slouching gone, body attentive. I don't know if I'm nervous, wary, excited, or stuck in some admiring state. But it's weird. And I do not want to be feeling it. I never asked for this.

And yea, he still looks the same. Painfully the same. Like a beacon in the dead of night. Tales of his past on his skin, his hair like streaks of bright cerulean paint on a canvas. The worst aspect of him is his eyes. They haunt me. 

He looks up at the camera again, having finally collected himself a few moments ago, showing off the feature of his that I loathe so much.

All the colors of an Aurora Borealis dance in his irises; the natural blue hue darkened into a teal from the lack of lighting. Little flashes of green and pale purple reflect onto his eyes from his computer screen, creating a kaleidoscope clash of colors that cover his entire prosthetic face. So many shades of life that mix to mimic something I've always wanted to witness for myself. I just didn't expect to see it in the eyes of who I both despise and desire most in this miserable life of mine. 

What the hell is wrong with me? How dare I fall into this kind of depression over Sal Fisher? No one has ever betrayed me as many times as I've betrayed myself at this point.

Ash's voice steals me from my mind's ruthless vices. "That's a pretty morbid scarf, Vi."

My gaze flicks to her and I scrunch my eyebrows again. "Scarf?" I ask. I'm not wearing a scarf. It's summer. In Los Angeles. "What scarf?" She's probably going to make some kind of joke that she's been holding out on for a while.

Ash scoots closer to her computer, eyes filled with confusion. They squint and she says, "Yea... scarf. It looks like a hand. Is it a hand?"

"Ash, what the fuck are you talking about? It's summer. Why would I wear a scarf?" I give her a bewildered look that's buffered by my mask, but the conversation attracts everyone else's attention too. Larry and Todd both move closer to their computers and, shockingly, Sal even tilts his head, eyes glued to the screen.

I look down, but I can't see anything near me or on me. Is this some elaborately planned joke or something?

"Uh," Todd says, voice a mix of confused and concerned, which sets off alarm bells in my head. "Yea. There's a hand. That's a hand."

I plan on answering, but then Ash screams and then something cold wraps around my throat and I scream in turn.

My reaction is instant-- I shove myself away from my desk, headset ripped off my head and the hand forced off of my neck. I hear a resounding 'oof' as I knock into something, or more like someone.

My room is dark, pitch black, so I leap off of my chair and into the darkness. My heart is racing a mile a minute, my hands shake with fear and adrenaline, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. Who the fuck is in my room. What the fuck is going on?

I see the silhouette of a tall figure through the low light of my computer. It's bent a bit, pale arm wrapped around their stomach.

I back up toward my wall, listening to the quiet, panicked voices of my friends yelling for me to answer them from my headset. And then my phone rings in my pocket-- for fuck's sake-- so I have no choice but to rush to the knife hanging on the wall right beside my door (I'm paranoid and clearly for good reason) and flick on my bedroom light, ready to launch and attack whoever's dumb enough to be here.

I hold my breath, wide-eyed with a war drum hammering away at my chest as light floods my room. I'm going to either get charged with homicide or be the homicidee. Is that even a word?-- actually, I don't care. It's a word now.

But as soon as I see the supposed figure squinting in the sudden brightness, I'm so relieved that I nearly fall to my knees, whimpering despite how embarrassing that might seem to someone else.

The Faces start yelling again.

"Did I scare you?" His hypnotizing, baritone voice fills me with an eerie calm that melts away the string of adrenaline keeping me afloat as of present.

"And my friends who think I'm about to be murdered? Of fucking course, you thundercunt," I hiss, stomping over to what I previously thought was going to be my demise.

"That's for never bringing back my screwdriver."

I roll my eyes, groaning in a mix of anger and exasperation once I stand in front of my neighbor and long-time friend. Nate looks down at me with a handsome little smirk on his full lips and forever messy black waves hanging over his forehead. "Fuck you," I grunt, taking a step past him to kick in the back of his knees. Said knees buckle and he yelps, quickly catching himself with a hand on my shoulder as a deep chuckle rumbles in his chest.

I grab my headset off the ground and lean down so my friends can see me. I watch relief flood their faces instantly, with the exception of Sal, of course. I grab my mic without putting the headset on and say "I'll be right back."

Setting them back down, I turn away from The Faces and look to Nate again, arms crossed over my chest. I pull my mask off just so he can see how astronomically pissed I am.

The asshole only laughs harder. The charm in that singular sound alone makes me want to punch him in the face. 

Nathaniel Emilio Luis Espinosa has been a daredevil since I met him, always raging over danger and reaching for that incomparable fear factor. He has lots of personality, and a lot of that personality has been met with a chancla to the face, courtesy of his overprotective mamá that won't take his bullshit even after she's in the grave. 

And that's why Mrs. Lucía and I are besties at heart. And in sandals.

But to go with Nate's desperate yearning for bad things is social anxiety. He hardly ever leaves his apartment and he'll claw at his walls to stay inside. I think that's why he's more than happy to make brownies for me and get absolutely decimated in Mario Kart whenever he comes to visit-- he isn't really leaving the apartment building, but he isn't alone either. 

He's also quite a looker. I have no doubt that if Sal ever met him, he'd be drooling all over the guy. Nate has sharp facial features that are just... perfect in almost every way. Little beauty marks on different sections of his face, angular nose, a jawline that could cut air. Everything is only accentuated by his shoulder length, wavy, midnight black hair that he hates so much (all he ever talks about is how aggravating the upkeep is) and his equally as dark eyes that still entrance me to this day. Plus, he's tall. 6'4 last I checked and built like Stonehenge-- gorgeous and unbreakable. 

Basically, he has no problem getting pussy. I'm never concerned about his sex life. His love life, on the other hand...

"You're in deep shit," I huff out, looking away from my friend who grins proudly. I move over to my bed-side table and dig in the one drawer it has, pulling out his beloved screwdriver. I turn back to him and hold it up for him to see, waving it dramatically before walking back over to him.

I grab his hand and slap it into his palm. "You're lucky I don't scrape off your kneecaps for that. I ought to call your mom and tell her what you've done. I could have had a stroke!"

Nate's eyebrows pinch together as if to sarcastically say 'sure bitch' but then he seems to process what I said. He suddenly hisses and his sable eyes go wide. "Please, I'm actually really sorry. Don't call my mom."

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't," I counter with, stepping up so we're nearly chest-to-chest.

"Because you love me," Nate bats his eyelashes at me, but that ship sailed years ago. He can't get me with that look anymore. He licks his lips, pink tongue darting out quickly. "And because I'll make brownies for you every week for the next month?" he tacks on.

I purse my lips. "Let me continue to borrow your screwdriver and it's a done deal."

Nate looks like a kicked puppy over our game of deal-or-no-deal. But he accepts anyway, sniffling over his loss. 

"How did you even get into my apartment?" I ask with a scoff, putting my mask back on and plopping into my desk chair. I face my friends who watch me in confusion, terror, and intrigue. 

"With the key you gave me. Duh," Nate says matter-of-factly, walking up behind me. I need to go get checked out or something because how could I forget that I gave Nate a key? "What's with the mask?" he asks.

I suck in a breath. "That's a really long story for another time," I tell him, grabbing hold of my headset and situating it back on. 

Nate leans over me, settling his chin on my shoulder from behind as his hands grip the armrests on my chair. I watch him through my camera as he gazes at my screen, meeting the eyes of The Faces. 

Tongue in cheek, I address my friends again. "Sorry, I'm not a victim of murder," I say quickly. "this is my neighbor, Nate."

Larry blinks, "Oh. He's brownie boy?" I snort. "He's kinda..." A sexy grin forms on his face and I roll my eyes. 

"Yea, he'd love to hear that," I say pointedly, glancing at Nate who's still hanging around.

"Wait," Nate murmurs, lifting his head and moving closer to the screen. "Why are you talking? You're just watching a video, right?"

"You're late to the party," I tell him, unable to stop myself from giggling a bit. "This is a discord call. With The Faces. I know you've heard of them, I talk about Ash all the time." 

"Of course I've heard of them. I just... didn't think you meant this Ash," he says bashfully, shaking his head a bit so his hair falls into his eyes. It's a little anxiety thing of his, makes his hair fall into his face in an attempt to hide however much he can. 

I put my hand over his that's still holding onto my armrest in hopes of both calming and reassuring him. He gets so nervous...

He lets out a little sigh behind me before setting his chin on my shoulder again. He doesn't say another word. That skill is lost on him at the moment, which is a frequent thing for him in social and social-ish settings. 

I look back to my other friends and give them a little smile, but they're still staring. They look so confused that they don't know how to act, which, okay. Fair.

And all is quiet up until Sal talks for the first time since the call started.

"You moved on from the hot knight pretty quickly." 

It's said in a very... suggesting way. It makes my eye twitch in response. It's so aggravating that he still manages to piss me off by simply breathing. I swear if his mic was too close to his face right now and I heard him take a breath, I'd have to fly to Nockfell just to slap him. 

"Hot knight is still on my list," I say tastelessly. "But I didn't see him interested in you so I don't understand why he's a topic."

I watch Sal's eyes narrow in agitation and I match his emotions and expression. He thinks he's so important. What was the point of bringing up Timothy the knight? He's been quiet this entire call. Why couldn't he have just stayed that way?

"I can talk about whatever I want. You just piss me off. Your boyfriend tried to kill you and he's getting in on our call. I have an issue with his presence. Yours too, honestly," Sal says, voice monotonous and bored, like it's a waste of his time to have to explain himself.

"He's not my boyfriend, jackass," I say in a grating voice. I'm at that tired point again. Just fucking tired of him... and not at the same time. Part of me is yearning for the aggression. The vexation. The resentment we share for each other and all the delicious arguments and loathing it brings. I miss it-- everything before we embarked on our short-lived shit-uationship. "And I have an issue with your presence too. You piss me off. I see why Ash nicknamed you two-face-- you're so nice to everyone, but you're a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're actually just a lint licking, cunt flap, cum infested puss bubble of a fucklet."

"Damn," Larry hisses, leaning back in his chair and staring at his screen like he's been stabbed. "I felt that in my prostate."

Nate's head moves from my shoulder and I turn to address him, but end up watching his form crumple to the floor in a heap of laughing mess. He shoots me a quick thumbs up, but whether it was an agreement, pride, or to tell me he's okay-- I'm not sure.

Ash is holding herself together by a thread, bottom lip between her teeth as tears well in her eyes. She doesn't dare blink, or else those tears will fall (and crash around me, or whatever Bullet For My Valentine once said).

"You're lucky as fuck that I'm not in your general vicinity," Sal barks out, fire blazing in his otherwise frosty eyes.

"Or what?" I taunt, tilting my head. He wouldn't hit me. He's a self-proclaimed feminist after all, if that's even true. So what would he do? Punish me? Tarnish my squeaky clean online image? He could still do that without being in my general vicinity. That statement was so loaded that I'm starting to get a little nervous...

"Military weapons-grade, apocalypse-inducing, soul-severing revenge. That's all," Sal says nonchalantly. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed and ring-clad fingers tapping his biceps. And he's... hot. And terrifying. And so, so infuriating. I hate him.

"I'd like to see you try all that," I reply, sucking my teeth. In truth, I'm not as on top of my shit as I could be because I'm still upset and confused over him. I'm angry, but not enough to properly express it. Sal's been an issue from the start, but now he's becoming even more of one.

"Watch me," is his snarky reply. And I know I can't actually determine if it's me he's staring at like that, but the feeling I get says that his glare is baring right into my image on his screen. I can feel his detest across the country, aimed directly at me. It makes a shiver run down my spine and I grip my armrests tighter.

"Is that a threat?" I bite out, swallowing thickly.

His eyes light up a bit, and then they squint. Almost like he's smiling. And then he says, in a sickeningly gentle and dark voice, "It's a promise."

________________

A/N::::: On today's episode of Ryver Rhoulette: is that a decomp stain or is it just moldy cum?

SORRY anyway, HI I AM BACK <333 i spent most of my break sick and suffering from writer's slump... it's not a block because i know what i wanna write, just couldn't get the thoughts out o_e

first off, i know this chapter is a little shorter and i'm sorry about that. i know it's been a while, so i definitely owe you guys a LOT more content than what's in here (especially since it's pretty much filler...) but next chapter is going to be VERY fun :D i can't promise or predict when the next chapter will be, but i have plenty of time to work on it before i go back to school on january 12th! so if not soon, definitely whenever college starts up because i have a yucky habit of procrastinating and getting WONDERFUL fic ideas instead of doing work >:)

also of note: i will be posting a Sal-lore chapter again soon. it may come before the next Faceless Fixation canon chapter, just fair warning. i literally have no idea which i will get inspo for first LOL

until next time, my sweet doves! i love you all so infinitely much <33 have a great morning/day/evening/night! sending big squishes and loves :3

P.S. GUESS WHO NATE IS BASED ON I FUCKING LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIHEIWHEL

P.S.S. huge thanks to @weaslebeeps for coming up with Todd in a "I got pegged at Cracker Barrel" shirt AND for drawing it??? LIKE ACTUALLY????? i love u sweetness <3

[m2kdj-waist-connoisseur]

ORV aka one of the greatest love stories I've ever read

The title says it all, our beloved novel is one of the greatest love stories written and it doesn't belong to the romance genre (as far as I know anyway).

I won't go in to heavy detail but this has a lot of spoilers (you've been warned)

I see ORV as a love story of many.

It's a love story of a man whose love for reading webnovels consumed his life, became his reason to keep moving forward, his reason to survive, his reason to protect and his reason to die. He valued the lives of characters more than his and deemed his suffering minor compared to theirs. He would throw his life away, even trying to take it with his hands, if it meant they would live happily because he wanted them to be happy (even if he couldn't be part of that hapiness).

The love story of a writer that wrote for a single reader even when it seemed impossible. A writer that would sacrifice the world for her reader if it meant he would survive and live to see another day.

A love story between a sword and shield. They were brought together because of a reader, fought together, suffered together and inevitably separated by their memories of said reader.

A love story between a mother and child with common enemies known as 'shared suffering', 'lack of comunication' and 'misunderstanding'. The mother that sacrificed her life for her son, that sold her life story in hopes of protecting him, that treasured every story he told when he visited and was hurt that a fictional character was the one her son loved most but grateful said character helped him survive when she couldn't. The son that felt betrayed by his mother and came to resent her but fought with all he had to keep her alive and well.

The love story of a protagonist that lived for his companions. A protagonist that sacrificed his limbs, mind and life to protect the people he cared about. He was ready to become a demon king, fated to die at the hands of his companions, if it meant they would get to the conclusion. A man that loved his sister and wished to protect her with all he had even when she appeared in his life without any warning.

The love story of companions that would forsake their comfort, cross world lines and give up all they had to save each other. They found strength in hope and when they were out of hope, they became each others' strength and reason to keep going.

*falls to my knees* THERE'S SO MUCH LOVE IN THIS NOVEL I CAN'T TYPE IT ALL

I'll just end this with some of my favourite quotes (I spent an hour searching for these babies)

"Kim Dokja had learned how to live from this man. This man was my father; my brother; and my oldest friend."

"This story is for just that one reader."

"That man is the world I wish to save."

"Even then, you only chose to read and nothing else. ...Because that is our way of living. You acted, and I read you doing it."

"Not everything can be expressed in sentences."

"I just wanted to say it once. I don't think I've ever told you before."

"I love you, Heewon-ssi."

"If this story can really save you...If you regained just a litle of your memories and remember us just one more time...Then I'l keep writing the epilogue for you until the end of time, for eternity."

"I lost the safety pin. I thought that I shouldn't lose it again."

"Tell me, you fool. If I continue to regress, will I ever get to meet you again?"

"I looked at Yoo Jonghyuk's miserable face and thought: Don't worry Yoo Joonghyuk. I'll do the rest. You stop and rest."

"Demon King of Salvation. I shall pray that you may continue to exist somewhere, too."

"Just because I will forget about them, that doesn't mean they'll suddenly stop existing. They definitely continue to live in this world."

"Yoo Joonghyuk smiled faintly."

"If you get a chance to run again, do you believe you can see it better the next time?"

"Because of your story, I was able to survive until now."

"Even then, this was the story Kim Dokja dearly wished to create."

"And fortunately enough, this story happened to be the one I loved the most."

"In the end, to every human being, the most precious thing was themselves. And Kim Dokja risked everything of his, always."

[marshmallowprotection]

Listen I know it’s March but I just thought of giving Ray Christmas presents for the first time and I’m sobbing

God. See, by the time we meet Unknown in the Christmas DLC, he is of the belief that Christmas is a lie... and in many ways, yeah, that's a very easy perspective to deal with. You see kids in poverty struggle to receive a single gift and kids who are more fortunate get anything in the world. It's by luck, by chance, a flip of a coin when it comes to the luck a child has in life in that regard.

Saeran and Saeyoung Choi were born in a situation where Christmas wasn't a happy thing for either of them. Unknown recounts how he's angry at the grown-ups who lie about Santa, and how angry he is to see Santa give gifts to "good kids" and he was never "good enough" to receive a single gift. Like, we understand why Saeran didn't get a single thing unless Saeyoung fought to get him something before he went into the agency, but it doesn't chance the grief Saeran feels in his heart about Christmas.

Christmas can be... a very hard time for many people. It's a season of good will and cheerfulness, but consumerism, capitalism, and every inch of goodwill gets sapped out in the modern day, unfortunately. It isn't fun for many little kids. I understand Unknown's pain, I know it all too well, but I imagine... it's different for Ray. Well, because, Ray is the boy who doesn't stop dreaming.

He can't stop believing in fairytales and happily ever after. I can see him trying his best to keep believing in Christmas, in Santa, and in the stories he heard... even if he finds himself with nothing under a tree or in a stocking.

That's the painful thing about him. He keeps believing even if it hurts.

After all, that's something that is told to us by Suit Saeran countless times. Ray doesn't stop trying to see the best in things even if it hurts him, even if he's confused, and even if he doesn't know what to believe anymore, he keeps believing that someday everything will be okay. Of course, when it's mentioned to us, his core belief is that someday he might be able to live with V and Saeyoung again.

 I don't think its wrong to carry on his wish to more wishful thinking.

If you happen to be in Mint Eye around Christmas, I imagine he would try to pull out the stops to make it wonderful for you. He isn't the kind of person who would want to make it about himself, but you're not going to let him not experience the wonder he's trying to give you. You see it, don't you? You see that painful look on his face every time he smiles and you know no matter how much he tries to put on a show for you, he wishes that he could experience this kind of wonder. 

He would try to make you all kinds of gifts to fill up a tree in your room of all places. But, I agree with you in saying that it would be amazing to help him experience the Christmas magic he wants to experience.

The best thing you could do would be to hide a handmade present underneath the tree he brought into your room. I can see him being excited by watching you open things he's made for you all morning, but when you get to the bottom of the pile, and you discover something with his name on it, you smile at him, and he's touched. 

I don't think you could get away with telling him it was from Santa, but I do think you could tell him that you wanted to get him something because it's the spirit of the season. Giving is the core value, and you want him to understand that the world may be a difficult place, but he's a part of it and that means he deserves to receive something just like everyone else. 

He'll cry.

And you'll hold him.

But, it will be okay.

[scribblespirit]

Happy Valentine's Day!! 💝 (+ long personal ramble lmao)

Well I did intend on posting earlier than this, but I wanted to wish a big happy Valentine's to everyone who actually follows along with the random crap that I post on this site-- and an especially big hug to all of my fellow aspec, arospec, and aroace lovelies!! I've always valued the celebration of all forms of love on February 14th, whatever dumbass society that we live in who decided that it's strictly a holiday for romantic couples can show themselves out the mfing door. Romantic love, platonic love, familial love, s*xual love, queerplatonic love, polyamorous love, animal love, ALL types of feeling & showing love are so wonderful and deserve to be celebrated!! If you feel sad about being single on Valentine's Day, don't let our stupid economy blind you to how loved you are in many different ways by many different people!! 🫶

On that note, this year marks a very meaningful occasion for me personally. I'm currently 21 years old, I learned I was asexual when I was 16 and didn't understand that I was arospec too until I was 20. I've always been totally content either celebrating Valentine's Day with my close friends, or basically ignoring the day all together. But as of last summer, I am now in my first Queerplatonic relationship with my incredible partner @rubinaitoart (and our beloved @lovelucigoosey, who is always with us 🎗️🩵) and I thought that today would be a fitting day to finally proclaim my cheesiness online lol! Rubin, I love you so so much and I'm seriously so lucky to have you. Thank you for being my very first Valentine's Day partner, for making me feel so loved I nearly happy-cry every time, and for just always being your supportive, talented, caring, funny, amazing and beautiful self!! 💜💜💜 /p

My patience to see your smile and give you the biggest hug face-to-face is dwindling with every day, but also knowing that we will get there someday is one of my favourite things to think about :'D To my online besties, Checkmate or otherwise, thank you for being the best long-distance found family I could ever ask for!! Every one of you guys means the world to me, I'm so grateful that you all put your care and energy toward a little chatty bundle of emotions like me. My bucket list purely consists of a list of each of you guys, and I will not quit until I get to properly see and hug all of you or else your name is not getting checked off of the bucket list!! But yeah fr thank you guys I fuckin' love my friends I don't know how I got so lucky 🥹💕

To my kittens (not that I expect they'll be reading this), thank you for being such little fluffballs of joy and chaos. Thank you for coming upstairs and insisting to check on me when I have been face-deep in homework for 6 hours, and for dragging me away for cuddles whenever I need it. To my parents (who definitely won't be reading this XD), thanks for being some badass and wonderful parents.

To Luci, I mean I check in pretty often so you probably already know what I'm gonna say. I hope you're happy, I hope you're smiling, I hope you're running and I hope you're free of pain. Love you always boo 🩵

I just have so much love in my heart that I wish I could share as much as possible. I love my family and my kittens and my friends from university who help keep me somewhat sane. I love my Discord friends/found family who help keep me very sane, and are always there to make me laugh and to celebrate achievements together. I love my queerplatonic boyfriend/partner, I love his voice and his hair, I love his obsession passion for The Arcana, I love his fluffy puppy Aster, I love how he makes me smile and that I'm capable doing the same.

Thanks guys. I really really love you all ❤️

...

(Also I haven't slept in like 38 hours and I'm struggling to stay awake as I write this so I hope it is at all legible, it's probably too long but quite frankly if you read the entire thing and made it all the way down here then massive kudos to you. I did warn that I was chatty and emotional, those two traits never go well together 😂)

[scary-monsters]

actually yeah. let me get on my burnout soapbox. because this is something i care deeply about and it hurts when i see people i care about/people in general tearing themselves apart over the things they make.

some of you were around during my haikyuu days, for those that were: you might remember the self-defeating cycle i shoved myself into. looking back, i can't imagine how uncomfortable it must have been to watch me publicly beating myself up and forcing myself to make things when i simply did not have the energy to do it. i did not handle fandom well back then, and that's why i swore to myself i'd never find myself in one again. but WELL. here i am. LOL.

for those that weren't around for it: essentially, from the years of late 2015-around 2018, i was forcing myself to pump out finished art every single day. why? to maintain relevancy, as if that ever even mattered. i wanted to be important and prominent in a fandom space, so that's what i spent every day fighting for despite how horribly it was tearing up my mental health. i became competitive and started comparing myself to everyone around me, even my friends, and this only chased people away. i acted very unfairly to everyone around me and based the quality of my friendships on whether or not they were meeting ridiculous guidelines, like always liking/reblogging/retweeting/commenting on my things without fail. in my mind, if they didn't do all of these things, then that meant they hated me, and that was a ridiculous mindset to impose on other people who had been nothing but friendly and supportive in their own ways. by the middle of 2019, i had essentially ruined most of my friendships (and was also going through a very bad breakup) and i had to leave the internet for a while.

but i did soul searching, recognized that i was burnt the fuck out and hadn't been enjoying art in years, so i stopped for a long time, waiting for the love of art to come back. i never even felt the urge to pick my ipad back up until i watched the stardust crusaders ova sometime around early 2022, fun fact. ova dio was what got me back into art!

this is long-winded and i feel like im rambling. i guess, if you value my opinion and advice, please please please remember to enjoy yourself, first and foremost, when you're making things. try not to get caught up in numbers and views and relevancy. that stuff fades, it doesn't matter in the long run, what really matters is how much you're enjoying yourself and how fulfilling art/writing/whatever is for you. try to reconnect with that passion. have fun with fandom!!! that's what you're supposed to do!! don't overthink everything and get stuck in unhealthy thought patterns. i hope this helps at least one person, because i wish i'd have listened to this advice when i was going through such terrible burnout years ago 🧡

[das-ende-des-anfangs]

Dear P****e,

I just want you to know that you broke me.

When I met you, I believed in people. I believed in love. I trusted that the people who said they loved me would want to stand by me and help me work through things. I trusted YOU when you said you would do that for me. I was vulnerable and intimate with you in difficult moments BECAUSE I trusted you so deeply. I came to you during times of pain and uncertainty because I trusted that you would love and value me even if I wasn’t perfect.

When we met you said you didn't even believe in love. You said you didn't even want a relationship (and I should've listened), but when I was finally able to convince you that I was "worthy" of your love, I felt like my world was complete. When you told me I taught you how to love, I felt like I could do anything.

I helped convince you your life was worth living. I gave you the push you needed to get on meds and go to therapy. I drove 4 hours during winter break just so I could clean your apartment and have a homemade dinner ready for you when you got home from your dogshit job. I drew you a bath and gave you a foot massage because I just wanted you to be able to relax after working so hard all day. I wrote you the most beautiful piece of music I've ever created because I wanted you to know how much I loved you. I made you cry tears of joy nearly every time we saw each other. I gave you EVERYTHING that I had, but it still wasn't enough.

You said you wanted to build a life with me. You told me how beautiful your name would sound with my last name at the end of it. You gave me a key to your apartment, and not even two weeks later you said you wanted to leave me. I begged you to stay and you dragged things out so I would eventually just get sick of waiting for you and you could tell our friends it was "mutual."

It's been months since I even spoke to you, and I still live every day in fear that the new loves I meet will abandon me like you did. So I try to make myself perfect. I have to love perfectly, talk perfectly, fuck perfectly, do everything PERFECTLY because maybe it will keep me safe. You're the reason I can't even force myself to believe people when they say they want to make me a part of their life, when they say they're committed to working out whatever might come up in our relationship. I can't even give the people I love the gift that is trusting them when they say they'll stand by me, even when (unlike you) they've done everything to earn that trust.

I wish I could make you feel how I feel right now. I wish I could make you experience a fraction of the pain that you put me through. I wish I could make you know what you took from me, but instead I'm writing a post on the internet that maybe 5 people will even read (if I'm lucky).

I hope it felt good to reap all the benefits of the love I gave you and leave me with nothing but fear, mistrust, and self-hatred. I hope you're happy that I can't stop breaking down in front of the people I love because I'm afraid that they'll throw me away like you did. I hope you're happy to know that I still live in absolute terror of letting people see what I struggle with because of how you used it against me. I know I'm healing, and I know I will overcome this, but right now I just feel like I'm drowning under the pain that you left me.

I hate you, P****e. I hate you so much for what you took from me. I know I'm supposed to be the bigger woman and find it in myself to forgive you, but not now. Not when the wounds you gave me are still so raw and so fresh. I hope you never find anyone as good as me, because you don't deserve the type of love that I gave you. Good luck breaking that streak of failed 6-month relationships. Maybe someday you'll realize that YOU'RE the fucking problem, but at this point I don't really care if you do. My only hope is that there will come a time when I never have to waste so much as single neuron activation on your sorry excuse for an existence. Just like I said the last time I ever spoke to you, I am looking forward to not giving a FUCK about you.

Sincerely,

Anja