#i kept switching between happy and sad crying

[theosmommy1966]

Idrk where this came from.. it was just a thought and then three hours later.. here it is i guess. Snape in my head in this is Adam Driver. So yeah. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears were ringing, not for the first time you were thankful to always have your own locker room. Being the only woman on a college hockey team came with a list of problems, so you were happy to have one less. The guys would just come pound on the door and be obnoxious as shit to let you know they were ready. Normally you would roll your eyes and laugh while joining them, today Pansy was pushing past Daph and Hermione to get to the door. 

Theodore being the tallest without skates on could easily see you quickly trying to braid your hair, only to start crying again as Hermione took over quickly. War was raging in him as he elbowed Mattheo who then felt the same way. They both wanted into the locker room. Both angry at whoever or whatever it is that has made you cry, but both also want to wipe your tears and comfort you. 

Pansy pulled the door shut and sighed, “Just.. I dont know.. I cant really tell you. But just take it easy on her, if shes struggling dont be dicks about it.. I dont know. This is kinda fucked.” Just as Draco went to ask what was wrong, the door flew open and you walked out gear ready besides your helmet needing clipped and you were chewing on your mouthpiece in anger. Your cheeks and eyes were red but you no longer looked sad. In the two minutes between the door opening and closing you had switched into anger. 

Anger the guys could work with. If you were mad, they could channel mad. Coach Sev could tell when your skates first hit the ice that it would be a rough game. It always amazed him how the mood of one player could set the mood for an entire team. True hockey fans could tell by the way someone skated where their mental state was. The way the team's blades sliced through the ice gave their fans goosebumps. Warm ups started as the other team hit the ice as well. Mattheo watched as your eyes followed their players, in one way he wasn't surprised. Your boyfriend was on the other team, went to a different college. What did surprise him was the way you watched for him. With a cold calculation in your eyes as you spun your stick in your hands, still chewing on your mouth guard. He needed to make sure you actually kept it in your mouth during the game. 

He was shocked, because this guy had been a rough patch in your friendship. Mattheo and Theodore hated the guy, the way he put you down but in a subtle way that you never seemed to catch. Saying how you were a good hockey player.. For a girl.. Theo was quieter in his annoyance, where Matt was not. Quiet was not a verb used to describe him.. Ever. It had caused dirty looks and small arguments, but he would never let anything come in between you. Even if it meant biting his cheek until it bled, or simply not being around when you were with him. 

As Captain he stood back watching everyone warm up, doing his own rounds while everyone stretches. Theo, his boyfriend and co captain glided up next to him looking towards you as well. They both silently watched as you and your boyfriend, Jacob, skated up to each other. They couldn't hear what was said but they could see his face. A smug smile, the kind you would give your girl right before you tell her how your teams gonna beat hers. It stayed for a few seconds, then it faltered, then it fell. “God I wish I knew what she said.” Mattheo said watching you skate backwards into line for warm ups. 

Your anger hadnt lessened at all when your eyes found Jake. Pansy had crashed in just as you were finishing up your laces, anger clear on her face before it fell into sadness. Without saying anything she shoved her phone into your hand. Your ears started ringing after the second video. The first one was Jake making out with some girl, the second was him telling his teammates how you were as shitty in bed as you were on the ice. That he was ready to be done because he wasn't getting any game changing secrets out of you anyways. 

There were a few more after that.. And pictures.. So many fucking pictures. Your heart broke so fast and so hard. The guys had been worried about this, how many times had Draco told you how stupid you were. Theo and Mattheo telling you that they just don't see why he would all of a sudden be interested in you just because of hockey. They swore you had a million better reasons to be interesting and he wasn't interested in any of them. Matt had told you that he talked shit about you, that he was constantly degrading. Blaise tried to be supportive, he wasn't rude to your face. But you knew he agreed. Enzo was the only one of your little group that told you he just wanted you to be happy. 

Just as quickly though you got mad. Mad didnt even cover it really, your skin was crawling. You thought people saying their blood was boiling was just an expression, but you could feel it. You wanted to claw at yourself to release some of this pressure. You were sweating and you knew if Hermione redid your braid one more time that you would snap at her and that wasn't fair. The chilly air hit your lungs and you drew in every bit you could. This was your happy place, where you had thrived since childhood. Sure your mom wishes you would have done figure skating, but your dad was thrilled. He never missed an opportunity to tell people about his daughter who plays hockey. 

For Jacob to insult your skills on the ice in any way was a joke. There was never a year from mites all the way to now in college where his stats were better than yours. He was just jealous, and now he would see the real hockey player in you. When his eyes connected with yours from his tunnel he smiled at you in a way that twenty minutes ago probably would have made you melt. Now all you see is condescension. It took everything for you to not just blurt it out. You let him flirt for a minute, tell you how he would make you feel better when you lost.

 Gag. 

You could feel the guys eyes on you, you knew it was time to get back. So you leaned in with a smile on your face like you were going in for a quick kiss. Just before his lips could touch yours you pulled back just a little. “Something crazy to think about.. Babe… By the end of this game.. the whole team will know you cheated on me… not only my team.. which is bad enough.” You chuckled as you pulled back enough to see his pale cheeks. “But imagine, Harry.. Ron.. Fred.. George.. Oliver.. They all love me too..” Somehow it was like Neville the sound man just knew what to play, because as soon as you pushed off to skate back to your team ‘...Ready for it. By Taylor Swift’ came on and you smiled meanly. “Good Luck.” 

You ignored your two best friends as you lined up, you ignored them again when you were waiting your turn and sent a hard puck right into the back of your soon to be exs knee. Snape hollered your name from the bench and gave you that look you hated. The guy wasnt even 10 years older than you, but he carried the authority and knowledge of an old man so whatever. Then it was time to line up, one of the guys had been hurt so you ended up in a defensemen position instead of forward where you normally were. Being one of the faster skaters and having great stick handling skills showed that was your niche. But you were tall for a girl. Standing at 5`11 without skates with a broad build that was strong but still soft in areas like the thighs so you were an ok fill in. 

Mattheo was the other first string defensemen, Draco was center, Theo and Enzo on either wing. Jacob was a first string forward, it couldn't have worked out better. You'd have to get Goyle some candy when he felt better. You were surprised at how well you were playing and keeping track of where your real target was. Mattheo kept trying to set up to be the one who would have to go after him, but you kept getting in his way. 

Everyone besides the girls gasped in surprise and shock when Jacob started to skate down the ice with the puck only to be roughly checked into the glass by you. Regulus, your kinda uncle, who was a few years older than you, was one of the refs. He came over to escort you to the penalty box when you whispered a quick low down on what he had done. Reggie nodded then winked when he closed the door to the penalty box. Just a moment later, Reggies friend Barty, the other ref knocked on the glass and winked. 

They both knew you were getting ejected from the game. That you were coming out of the box swinging. You had started to calm down just a tad bit. The cold air and the physical exertion are starting to help. That is until you hear a high pitched voice scream Jacob's name. When you turn your eyes lock with one of the girls from the videos. The girl from last night at his house party. The one you didn't go to for obvious reasons. When she did her little finger wave and smirked everything went fuzzy.

 The outsides of your vision was blurry as your eyes watched the clock and the ice. You just prayed Jacob was out when your time was up. Your ears were ringing as Jacob was called off the bench, 3 seconds left. The attendant, an older gentleman who worked with the athletics department chuckled as he prepped to open the door. He had seen this many times, sure never from this perspective, but he had daughters and he knew how they would react.

“Go get him a tiger.” 

You didn't even know where the puck was when your blade cut through the first slice of ice. You knew Mattheo was on the bench and Theodore was on the other side of the ice. Maybe ten strong strides across the arena. 6 before you dropped your stick. 3 before your gloves are off. 1 before your fist connected with his jaw. As you grabbed his jersey and used what every bit of strength you had to slam him back into the glass. In his shock he didn't realize that he was falling and you were swinging again.  

In another moment of perfect coincidence, you're right in front of your family's seats. Theodore Sr, Lucius, and your father are all standing up and cheering while banging their fists on the glass. Your mother has her mouth covered with her hands while Bellatrix and Cissy stand on their seats leaning to hold onto shoulders and watch. You hear someone come up behind you, you know its not a ref but they never even get the chance to grab at you. Theos flies past you and slams someone from the other team into the ice. 

Now you can hear Snape screaming curse words at you all as the bench clears. Reggie and Barty are both standing off to the side, eyes wide in pretend shock as they pretend to decide who's going where. Your mind momentarily slips away from beating Jacobs face in, but it snaps back into perfect clarity when his glove connects with the bottom of your jaw. You lose your grip in shock, which in some way is stupid. When you fall backwards and your helmet connects with the ice, the stadium falls silent. This had been the moment the entire college hockey league had been waiting for. How would it be handled, because while you were a woman, you had joined the team, and started the fight. 

In the silence, from the other team's bench, you hear Coach Black's voice. “KICK HIS ASS L/N!” More gasps followed as Neville changed the big screens to a video of Jacob saying you were a shitty player. Jacob tried to scramble up as half of his own teams heads snapped to him. Needless he knew now that he wasnt leaving the ice without getting his ass beat at least once more. Looking up towards the reporters box you could see Ginny and Neville leaning out and cheering for you. 

Alot of people were going to be getting in trouble after this game, but it didnt seem like anyone cared. It was a perfect moment of unity and unsportsmanlike conduct as people took their turns with Jacob before Regulus and Barty decided they would lose their jobs if they let it go any longer. While both teams skated off the guys all cheered for you and gave you pats on your back. Theo and Matt walked you to your locker room, you could tell they both wanted to say something. 

Matt looked like he was constipated, the look he only got when he was trying to figure out how to talk about his feelings. He wanted to tell you to stop looking for someone who would love you more than him and Theo did. That there would never be two people who cared more, or knew you better than they did. That they knew it was unconventional and that people would talk, but they wanted to be with you. They couldn't go without you anymore. 

Just as you whisper his name his brain short circuits and when it starts working again his lips are already on yours. His hands holding your cheeks as he memorizes how your lips feel just in case he never gets to do this again. When he pulls back he almost doesn't want to open his eyes, scared of what he will see. But all he sees is awe and confusion as you look from him to your other best friend.. His boyfriend.. Who you now think he just cheated on, right in front of.. 

Shit.

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

omg more yandere angst pleaseee! maybe with scaramouche, zhongli, and alhaitham or cyno? :3

Ohhhh, Yes I can my dear. I can and shall provide that for you. :)

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••° Scenario: i would like to request a yandere scenario but oh no it's really really sad. if you can, i would want to see yandere kazuha, childe, tighnari like regretting breaking reader. like reader keeps getting hurt by the yanderes until they feel nothing and at first the yanderes didn't mind it thinking they were obeying them but then they start feeling guilty for breaking you because now you aren't expressing any emotions, no matter what they do.

all in all, very very angst at the end ..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°

Part 1: Here Trigger Warning: These are a bit more darker, so please proceed with grave cautious. Contents Contain Amputation, broken limbs, unregistered surgeries, Privacy violation, Boundaries trespassing, non consensual kissing.

Scaramouche ┌─❀̥˚───❀̥˚─┐┌─❀̥˚❀̥˚─┐┌─❀̥˚───❀̥˚─┐

Scaramouche was gently adjusting your new limbs, as you lay there in his bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling, no skies are in sight. Scaramouche screaming and scolding fell on deaf ears for you, as all you heard was ringing in your ears. You had such a dull face, dull hair, dull eyes, dull greyed out, blind eyes. Yet you can see. Yet, what is the point of processing everything around you right now? All you see is blurs of things that were made into use by the living hands. Just like how you were in Scaramouche's hands. You used to be a very strong women, a leader, you lead people, you lead families to your goal of freedom. Oh, the irony of that, when you see yourself being hugged in Scaramouches arms. You were in between his legs, as he hugged you tightly, crying against your back. You looked down at your hands...they weren’t yours. You used to be such a proud women, and a proud women who untangled the endless gibberish in Scaramouches heart. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." You listen to Scaramouche cry into your back. You were better then his own mother who abandoned him. You lead with pride and never abandoned anyone. You kept everyone to you, you never regretted your creations or called them mistakes. Scaramouche ended up wanting to follow you endlessly, obsessing every detail of you. However, now he sits against the wall with you, regretting the monster he just made. He was crying, as he kept trying to re attach his doll limbs onto you, as he thought, maybe if you two switched limbs, you two can be closer and trust one another. However, little did he know, human limbs can’t return back like a doll's limbs. You say with his unfeeling doll limbs falling off of your shorten arms, while scaramouche had your arms attached to him perfectly. Oh, how much he loves you right now, right?

Zhongli ╚══•●•══╝╔══•●•══╗╚══•●•══╝ ╔══•●•══╗

Zhongli was carrying your limp body in his arms, he cradled you tightly to his chest, rocking you. His delusions has gotten the best of him, as your suffering was the cause of his mind going into full erosion. He cradled you tightly against his chest, crying, as he tried to laugh. "Aha...look...we are so happy together, don't you love being in my arms? Let's get married..be with me forever..." You were a doll at this point, but you were his doll at a farther point. Despite his smile coming from his delusions of you being happy in his arms, regret was showing in his tears, as he fell to his knees. You were such a traditional and wonderful women, who understood his ways the most. You understood him, his troubles, and his mind. For all, you desired a peaceful life such as he did. You understand his bindings to a contracts and beyond. He felt like he found the perfect human who matches and met his every need as a man. And, so. You signed a contract with him. To always be with him, to always love him. Little did you know, this contract was too vague as you two had two different ideas of this concept. The more you seemed to overstepped the grounds, the more he punished you, as his idea of love and dedication was much more extreme of yours. Was this all worth it? Was this really a way to treat the person you love? The punishments were too much. To the point, that you heard a snap in your head. Immediately you dropped. You were tired, and you immediately gave up. There were times, where you can get up and walk as he demanded of you. However, now here you are in his arms, no longer responding to him, with two broken legs, as he was looking down on you with tears. "The contract has been fulfilled" He said, as you heard parchment being torn by your right ear. Alhaitham └── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

He was looking down at you, in the surgery table, as he was reading a book on procedures. You were there, motionless, uncaring, as you were looking to the side. Nothing mattered anymore. You were a incredible intelligent women, director of the branch in the Akademiya that involve maths. Alhaitham loved you for your unique methods of solving problems and issues, and how unique it was. He read all your books and researched that you submitted. To you, he was a simple scribe who desires a comfortable life. You desired the same, as the more you two talked, the closer you guys got. You both read together, told each other stories, went on walks and even battled alongside each other. You were head over heels, he was perfect, until he wasn't. As said, the math branch is particularly male dominant, so you are often with males throughout the day. Especially, males who can’t keep their eyes and hands to themselves. Why must they placed their nasty fingers on your math notes? Asking questions with their pig breaths in your view? Alhaitham snapped, and decided, he wanted you to himself only. He took you on a nice date to his place, he wanted to show you his grandmother's book collections. He wanted to show you his personal prized possession. Once you fell asleep on top of him, in his arms. He carried you down to his basement, that of course Kaveh would never know about it. He gently strapped you into a bed, and kept you in the dark, no window of time, as there were no windows. Just darkness. You only need to rely on him, and him only. How long has it been? Days? Months? Years? You couldn’t tell, Alhaithaim forced you to fully rely on him, he bathed you, fed you, accompanied you to the bathroom with unneeded helicoptering. He would constantly hold you, cuddle you, love you to all his heart's content. Despite him constantly yelling at you, with the most sounded and logic argument of keeping you here with him. You don’t know how long it has been, but you were tired. There was nothing for you, besides this darkness...you eventually gave up. You slowly became a living doll to him. He didn’t like this, he wanted to try and get you back, nothing in his books were helping him, so...if he can’t help from the outside...he will have to go inside. It makes sense, no? Al Haitham tried to convince himself, as he is clenching his jaw, holding the scalpel in his head, ready to open your head and see what was wrong with you. His jaw his clenched harder, is he really going to defile the love of his life?...He had no other choice, you were no longer the love of his live...you were just a shell. With that last sound argument...he adjusted the scalpel and started. You made no sound. Cyno ❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉ ❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉ ❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

Cyno was in a bathtub with you, he was holding you against him as he washed your body. You head was laid on his shoulder, as you felt nothing but coldness. Cyno was washing your back, as he tried to talk to you, anything for you to respond to him. He was almost close to having a breakdown, very close to having a breakdown. You weren’t responding, moving or doing any basic human things for months. You used to be and officer of the desert, managing things that weren’t right, drug trades, illegal stunts, black market sellings. You were an offer of justice, you were someone who desired justice within the world. Cyno admire that of you. He would often ask you for information on his cases of students selling information. You were a women who won his heart, as you showed strong character and morals. However, you didn’t exactly like him back, in fact, you liked his friend more then him. Tighnari. You enjoyed flowers, and you loved it, seeing Tighnari with his Botany studies made your heart flutter, as you wanted to get to know him. It didn’t help that you would ask Cyno for advice or if you could meet Tighnari and be alone with him. Cyno started to become paranoid as he wanted you to be interested in him. He often sent his underlings to spy on you, and report to him on information. One day, you wanted to see Tighnari, as you brought flowers but there was only Cyno. In that moment, seeing you dressed up for Tighnari, he snapped. He walked up to you and pinned you against the wall. "What is so good about that disgusting fox? What about me? I can be anything you want me to be, yet...Why do you like Tighnari.."

He refused to let you go, as he held you in his arms tightly. He trapped you in his house, chained to the wall, as he forced you to give him attention. He would fight you everyday for your attention and favor, and sometimes even force it. He would force your hands to be on his bare chest, he would force kiss you. Pin you down to the ground and kiss you until you give in and kiss him back. That was the truth you loved him, wasn’t it? You were just playing hard to get. The forced you to be taken care of by him, however, one day you realized. This was your life, you had no family coming for you, and your job was probably replaced by another person. Your purpose was now fighting to be free...but sometimes you are tired. You decided to give up, as you felt Cyno's hands washing the delicate parts of your body, pleading you to wash him back.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Covert Operations

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 38

Your bed rest has proven more difficult than you thought, and you get support from a person you didn't quite expect, even if maybe you should have.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

You’d never thought you’d have to watch your life play out through a pane of glass. 

That was what you were reduced to, that first week. Bed rest. Doc’s orders. A week of it, wherein you wanted to do as Krauser suggested and study the less physical parts of the training. Trouble was, you’d not been given any of that training. No one had come to tell you what the hell they were learning over there, not even Krauser. 

So you’d stayed in bed dutifully for those first few days, but before long you’d pushed one of the uncomfortable chairs in the room towards that window. There you often sat, feeling your muscles crying out to be used and your eyes ever drifting towards that window. The orientation of the infirmary was cruel, giving you a good view of the base. A view of what you were missing, framed nice and pretty. 

It was like a movie. The kind that made you feel empty inside, but you couldn’t help watching. And watch was all you could do for those first few days. 

You watched Krauser and the other instructors greet a fresh batch of recruits. 

You watched lines of trainees running and heading to the shooting range, some you knew, some you didn’t. 

You watched Leon pushing himself, just as you knew he would. You watched him, beautiful and strong and sad, working through the shaking of his arms and legs. When he sparred with Valeria and the others, even when he did as you asked and faced down Krauser. You watched Leon lose to the Major over and over again, but he kept going. Kept getting up, every time. He was doing so well . . . and you knew you shouldn’t focus on him right now. It was poison to you, but you couldn’t help but drink it down. All of it. Everything you were supposed to be doing. 

A movie of should-have-beens . 

One with a soundtrack. 

“And if you go chasing rabbits-”

“And you know you’re going to fall-” 

The radio was a smartass. Or the DJ on the other end was without knowing it. Whatever the case, it always seemed to have something to say about you and your predicament. 

“Tell them a hookah smoking caterpillar-”

“Has given you a call-”

You knew that the radio had been a well-intended gift. And most of the time it was. It had kept you from delving into your own thoughts too much. It had been there when you woke in the middle of the night to the memories of friends turned monsters, or the resounding shock of a gunshot going off in the icy wilderness. You would reach for the radio in those moments, keeping it on because there was no one else you had to worry about waking. 

Sometimes, it would be that stupid, happy music. Songs that would keep your mind free. 

Sometimes, though . . .

You knew you shouldn’t have let it play those other songs. Just as you knew that you shouldn’t watch everyone else training. 

But you’d heard the news. 

Eight weeks. 

You weren’t going to graduate with Leon. That was the truth you had to grapple with. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world a few years ago. If you were two idiots having an affair in basic training. There would still be risks, but now? Leon would be thrown to the dogs and you wouldn’t be there to help him. 

So, over those days, you let those songs play, and let your thoughts play with them. 

Song after song after song. 

“In my shoes-”

“Walking sleep-”

“In my youth I pray to keep-”

What would happen, when you could finally move the way you needed to again? How much would your body allow you to do, after so long in bed? You knew the answer to that. You could remember how difficult it had been to regain your strength after . . . after the first time. You’d felt so weak, and you knew you’d feel weak again. You already did. 

That was if you even healed. 

You switched the station. 

“I could possibly be fading-” 

“Or have something more to gain-”

“I could feel myself growing colder-”

Some wounds didn’t heal right. You remembered a kid back in basic who fractured his arm in two places, falling from the obstacle course. They deemed him unable to serve when it didn’t heal right. 

If your ribs healed improperly . . . 

Another new station. 

“Distant eyes-”

“Promises we made were in vain-”

Whether you healed, Leon would be out there, fighting the fight without you. He was doing well. Better than the others, he’d pushed himself from being behind everyone to surpassing them all, but being the best didn’t matter out there. All it took was one moment of not paying attention. One second of carelessness. You knew that better than anyone. 

One moment and Leon could be gone, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything to protect him.

“If you must go, I wish you love-”

“You’ll never walk alone-” 

“You should be resting.” Doc’s voice had a way of being both caring and sobering all at once. He pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see him enter the room holding a sandwich. Fresh-cut tomatoes, soft white bread - nothing from the mess hall, you knew that for sure. Lucky bastard. He took a bite out of his dinner and gestured to the bed you should have been lying down in. 

“Didn’t think it mattered where I was resting, so long as I was resting,” you murmured, not wanting to climb back into that damn bed. 

The Doc just gave you a look. “Come on. Don’t be a little shit, kid.” 

Not much point fighting him on it. When it came to your health, he outranked everyone. Even Krauser. 

So, you frowned and carefully pushed yourself up from the chair, taking the radio with you. Letting it play as you reluctantly and slowly lowered yourself onto the bed once more. 

The Doc nodded, seemingly appeased. “Now try to sleep, yeah? Bed rest can be over tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. 

You’d be able to join in non-physically demanding lessons. The ones led by Reed and Hellman, then. That was something. That would at least keep your brain from becoming your worst enemy. 

Any more than it already was, anyway. 

You’d get to see Leon again, and that was something. 

Tomorrow seemed so far away as the Doc left you alone, as you tried to do what he ordered and sleep. 

You tried. You tried to sleep. 

It went about as well as it always did, so you lay there in that bed, letting the radio sing. You lay there as the thoughts ate away at you. The worries and what-ifs. The memories that always plagued you, and the fear that you wouldn’t be able to fight them. All because of some bullshit inflicted on you. More bullshit. Broken again. Fingers bunching up in the sheets of the bed, you shook your head and got up again in the darkness. Angry. Furious. 

Terrified. 

The radio played on and on and on and you paced the length of the room you were in. Your well-meaning prison. 

You would heal. You would get there eventually. 

Hopefully.

Maybe-

Your heart was beating, pounding against bones hard enough that it hurt. Breathing was just as painful, as it always was, and you felt like the walls were closing in on you. You felt like you were getting lost in the blur of it all, unsure what was wrong with you.

What was wrong with you? 

How could you be a soldier, how could you fight if you couldn’t even defeat the thoughts in your skull? 

How could you protect anyone-

There was a knock on the door, and you froze. 

Your assumption that it was the Doc come to check in on you was quickly done away with as, after a moment, another knock sounded and a gravelly voice called out from behind the door. “You fall asleep with the music that loud, or are you just ignoring your commanding officer?” 

. . . What the hell was Krauser doing here?

You hadn’t spoken to the Major in almost a week. Since he warned you not to continue on with Leon. Since you’d taken his advice but hadn’t, not ending things but not seeing the man of your affections beyond looking through that damn window. Honestly, you’d been thankful that Krauser hadn’t sought you out either, because there was a sickness to your stomach that you felt every time you thought of how Krauser had found out about your affair. 

Still, as much as you wanted to, you knew that pretending to be asleep wouldn’t get you out of whatever conversation was about to be had. 

As soon as the door was open, you found the Major standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. You expected him to be scowling at you. That he would tell you to shut the damn radio off and go to bed. 

Instead, there was an ever-so-slight curve to his mouth. A tiny smile. 

Who would be in for pain now, you wondered? 

“Get your boots on,” he ordered, not giving you time to ask what he was doing here. 

Not that you weren’t going to ask anyway. “Sir?” 

“Told you,” Krauser went on, sounding almost impatient, “I don’t want you moping around all the time. So you’re gonna make yourself useful.” 

Blinking was all you could manage, for a moment. It was the same way he’d told you that you’d be helping him with combat drills. The same way he’d told you that you’d be sparring with the lower-level cadets to sharpen their skills, the day before you’d met Leon. You wouldn’t be bruising any new recruits any time soon, so what was Krauser hoping you’d help him with? Whatever it was, it had to be better than being stuck in this room, right? So you nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Lacing up your boots was difficult - something you hadn’t had to do in a few days. You sat on the edge of your bed, trying to hold in a grimace as you bent over awkwardly, fumbling with tying the knots. 

Krauser watched you struggle for just a moment before you heard his voice again. “Can you manage?” he asked curtly. There was another moment before he added, “Cause if you can’t lace up your boots, you can’t report for lessons tomorrow.” 

Get your shit together, in other words. 

“I’m fine.” You gritted your teeth, remembering how you’d managed this last year. When you finally managed it without hurting yourself further, you stood. You could recognize the ghost of pride on Krauser’s face. “So . . .” you looked up at him, taking as deep a breath as you could manage. “What’s the plan?” 

“Been a while since you helped me teach a lesson,” Krauser grinned. “And these CIA bastards aren’t the only ones who know about covert tactics. So you’re gonna have to leave the radio.”

⧫⧫⧫

It was quiet work, the two of you moving about the base. The first stop was your barracks. Where you would be sleeping right now, were it not for the broken bones in your side. Where Leon and the others were sleeping inside. Well, likely not. Leon was likely tossing and turning, as he always did. Or staring up at the ceiling . . . focus . Getting this wrong would fuck you over when you were doing it for real. So, you watched Krauser demonstrate, before he handed the bundle of wires and parts to you. 

He held the flashlight, watching as you worked, imitating what he’d shown you how to do. No words were exchanged, out of a need for silence as much, you were sure, as a hesitancy to speak. Your work was imperfect several times, and he would simply shake his head, moving his scarred hands in to show you where you’d made a mistake. When it was done, when you carefully tested the tension of the wire, he just nodded and cocked his head. 

Time to move on, then. Your squad would be in for a rude wake-up call. Still, compared to what you’d gone through in that prison, this would be nothing. 

You followed the Major as he went through the base. There weren’t many places to set the lines up - not that wouldn’t interfere with the flow of work for the day, anyway. Still, you followed Krauser’s near-silent direction, all the way until you reached the forested area of the base. The same path that you and the others traveled down hundreds of times on the rucks Krauser had led you on. The same path where you’d ambushed Leon’s old squad mate, back during their assessment. 

That all seemed like a lifetime ago as you laid a new kind of trap there - a tense and thin line stretched between two trees on either side of the path. 

It was there, as you and Krauser worked in the dark, that the Major spoke up at last. “The rookie give you that radio?” 

Do we really have to have this conversation? That was what you wanted to say. Or just not answer, period. 

Still, you nodded, your lips pursed. “Yep. Him and the others.” Not a lie, but Krauser didn’t look very pleased by the answer all the same. It was hard to tell. 

It seemed he didn’t hear the bit about the others. “I take it you talked to him? About what I said?” he asked, and again you felt that shame rise up in you. Shame and frustration and all manner of other things. Whatever alloy of emotions you felt, you could see just as much weight in Krauser’s eyes. 

“I did,” you answered honestly. “It’s handled.” Another not-lie. Not entirely one, at least.

Krauser, in the light of the flashlight, still didn't look convinced. “If you’re going to be doing all this spy shit, you should at least learn how to lie.” 

Fuck. What the hell kind of mess had you landed yourself in? One where your C.O. knew about your affair, and was, what, offering you advice on how to keep it hidden? Or was this him trying to talk you out of it altogether? You couldn’t tell. You weren’t even sure what this situation was supposed to be. So, you decided not to answer him further, and he didn’t press. The two of you moved on, setting up another trip line down the road. 

“What have they gone over so far in training?” you asked, because you didn’t like the heavy silence that settled between the two of you. “Reed and Hellman?” 

“Agent shit,” was the dry answer you got. “They’ll debrief you tomorrow.”

Your mouth pressed into a thin line as you tied off the wire, and you shook your head. “No. You told me to get ahead of the curb, then you let me sit in bed for a week.”

“On the Doctor’s orders-” 

“And I couldn’t have been debriefed from bed?” 

“I don’t control what those two do.” 

“But you control what you do,” you pointed out, frustrations from a week of relative nothingness coming to the surface. “If you want me to do well then I need to know what’s going on.” 

“You missed a week,” Krauser said, his eyes sharpening. “You’ll catch up.” 

“I’m missing a lot more than a week,” you snapped, and as soon as the anger was voiced, it left you with nothing but dread. No fire in the dark woods, only the chill of uncertainty. Of dread. You hated that your voice wavered. That you sounded exactly how you felt: afraid. 

The Major watched you for a moment, neither of you speaking over the sound of crickets in the night air. 

When he finally spoke over that chorus, his words were almost soft. As soft as Jack Krauser’s voice could be, anyway. “You’re not gonna be out of the fight forever.” Should have figured he’d see through that attempt at indifference. 

“I might be.” You weren’t sure where the self-pity was coming from. 

A week in bed, you supposed. 

“The hell you talking about?” Krauser sounded so genuinely confused, but he had to know what worried you. He had to be aware of the thought that plagued you. 

“I’ve had this injury before,” you said, detaching yourself because you feared what emotion would come spilling out of you if you didn’t. “If it doesn’t heal right this time-”

“You knock it off with that bullshit.” It was an order that stunned you into silence. Krauser’s stare was no less intense than his voice. He’d yelled at you before - that was his job, after all. This was different, though. He wasn’t pushing you to improve, he was telling you that you were going to listen to him. That there was no other choice. “Self-pity isn’t going to help you heal, and neither will worrying. You’re gonna be fine. You’ve lived through worse and come back stronger, right? You still want to take the fight to those assholes at Umbrella?”

The answer to that last bit was obvious. Incontrovertible. “Yes.” 

With a nod of his beret-covered head, Krauser gave you one final order. “So pull yourself together.” 

It’s harsh and not at all the comforting reassurance that others had given you in the past. Still, it’s enough of a reality check that it flips a switch in you. There was little room for argument, and all you could do after several moments of surprised silence was nod. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry, sir.” 

Krauser, after a moment, shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s . . .” he swallowed, like he was weighing the words. “It’s bullshit. What happened.” 

Your injury, you knew that was what he was talking about. You could hear it in the regret in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Well, bullshit happens. Have to learn to deal with it.” 

 Krauser smiled at that. Not the kind that meant harm for others. This one you recognized as something else. One you were familiar with, however rare it was - pride. “That’s what we train you for. Dealing with bullshit.” 

“And how to disable tripwires?” you offered, feeling a little better, even if your ribs still ached. 

Krauser just rolled his eyes. “Smartass.” That still-present smile told you that he wasn’t annoyed, though. Not really. He looked at you for a moment longer, like he was thinking. That same expression took his face, then. The one you didn’t really recognize. Whatever it was, he turned away before you could really puzzle it out. “Come on. A few more. Then you can get back to moping.” 

You laughed a little at that. 

⧫⧫⧫

Leon hadn’t slept well. 

Not that he ever did, really. 

He’d become an expert at willing himself to rise, though, and so when it was time, he sat up from bed and got ready with the others. He threw his fatigues on, rolling his shoulders back, sore from the sparring with Krauser he’d done the night before. All of him was sore, but it always was, wasn’t it? 

He was used to it, now. 

Just as he was used to not sleeping well, or the strain of the training, or . . . well, he was getting used to looking over to your bunk and not seeing you there, too. However much it pained him. 

So many things in life that he’d never thought he’d be used to, as he made his way towards the barracks door, the first one of the squad to make it there.  

What he wasn’t used to was the slight bit of tension he hit when he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. The tiniest bit of resistance . . . and then the sound of some faint, mechanical click. He didn’t see the little bundle of wires by the door until it was too late. Even as he moved to throw himself backwards, there was a pop and a flash of light. 

Adrenaline brought about a full-body flinch as he threw himself back. As the rest of the squad did the same, trying to get away from the door, from whatever harm was promised to them. 

Only to find that adrenaline fading when no harm came to them. 

“Okay,” Williams exclaimed in utter annoyance, “what the fuck?” 

About as done with the morning already as Williams was, Leon approached the door slowly, pushing it the rest of the way open. Looking for the source of what had caused the tiny burst. 

He got his answer in the form of a firecracker. A fucking firecracker. One hooked up to a makeshift detonator, with a now-loose wire hanging from it. 

And leaning against that very wall, with an exhausted but amused look, was the only person Leon had wanted to see all week. 

He knew full well that his face lit up as he took the sight of you in, glad that his back was to his squad mates so they couldn’t see. 

“Hey.” 

It was the first thing that escaped his lips, and he wanted to smack himself because really? Was that the best he could do?  

Still, he found himself smiling a little when you gave him that half-formed, half-lived smile. It was small, but it was enough. “Hey.” You looked between Leon and the trip-wire - one that you had no doubt laid yourself. “Gonna have to pay closer attention next time, Kennedy,” you shrugged, and then began walking away, throwing one last phrase over your shoulder with a smile. “See you in class.” 

That promise set Leon’s heart racing, just as sure as that tripwire had. 

⧫⧫⧫

“What the hell happened?” Doc sounded absolutely concerned as you returned to the infirmary that morning, enough that you stopped in your tracks, not sure why he was so worried. You blinked, looking over your shoulder. Had he heard the bang of the firework? Did he not expect you to be out of bed?

“What-”

“You? Smiling?” he asked, and you realized you’d walked in with that little grin still on your face. “Hell must have frozen over.” 

Everyone on base is a fucking comedian.  

You just deadpanned a grimace, and carried on to your room - still to be your home for a while, even if you were allowed to escape it for lessons. And setting up traps around base, apparently. 

Doc filled in the laughter for you, following you into the room. 

“Got breakfast ready for you there.” He pointed to the table by your bedside, the one where your radio was currently housed. A tray from the mess hall, with the usual slop that was served there waiting for you. 

You frowned. “Not gonna give me any of your homemade stuff?” you asked, looking over your shoulder. 

Doc just gave you a look. “Nope. Now eat up.” 

That was all he said before he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

If it weren’t for the fact that you needed to keep your strength up, you probably wouldn’t have touched the stuff. It tasted like sawdust half the time, so you weren’t exactly thrilled to be eating it. 

At least, you weren’t, until you went to move the tray and a manila folder fell out from underneath it, spilling onto the floor. 

“What the fuck . . .” you cursed as you knelt down, struggling with your ribs to scoop up all the papers. 

No, not papers. 

Reports. 

Grouped together with paperclips, though some had come loose. You quickly scrambled to gather them, your eyes widening as you skimmed the papers with sections of blacked out text - though not as many as you would expect, given the title of the report you picked up first. 

𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 - 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

Your blood went cold as you read the words, and then read them again. 

Eyes flashing, looking through the others. 

𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 

𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙵𝙴𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 - 𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙻𝙰𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂

𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 - 𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙴, 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙳 - 𝙹𝙰𝙽𝚄𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝟸𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

You stopped as you read that title. Those words. Your name and rank. Your report, your words printed just underneath the heading. 

It wasn’t only those reports. There were more of them, most just a few pages by the looks of things, but still . . . 

This. All of these, they were . . . it was all here. You knew it, even without having to read through the pages individually. All of it was about Umbrella. Bioweapons. The very things you’d sworn to stop. To fight. It was all here.

A name caught your eye, then, as you sifted through the pages. One that gave you pause even more than all the other information you’d glimpsed. 

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚁𝙾𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃: 𝙻𝙴𝙾𝙽 𝚂. 𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙳𝚈 - 𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃

Your fingertips brushed the name, printed in bold. 

It was his story. Everything about what he’d survived and what he’d endured. The details he’d told you and the ones he hadn’t were all right there. Just as your story was. Two documents. A few sheets of paper that contained so much pain. Accounts of the nights that had changed both of your lives forever, and you’d been left both of them. You could know what he’d gone through at last . . . 

But you found yourself shifting that report to the back of the stack, hiding it beneath the others instead. Closing the folder . . . and then snorting a little as you saw the note paperclipped to the front of it all. 

Read up, smartass. 

You didn’t have to recognize the handwriting to know who it was from. 

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Chapter Index

A/N: Krauser is slowly going on his "fuck the government" arc, we stan. Unfortunate that said arc ends with him infecting himself with a parasite and kidnapping someone, but for a while here, it's gonna be great!

Songs that Sarge was angsting to are "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane, "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden, "Into Dust" by Mazzy Star and "Separate Ways" by Journey, all of which are bangers that I would recommend!

[moethewriter]

You are an absolutely sensational writer!! I am obsessed with all of your fics rn, so amazing!! :)

If possible, please could you write a fic with the angst prompts 6, 20 and 22, with Finnick?

If not no worries! I look forward to reading all your future work <3

Of course I can anon! This one is a long one and almost made me cry, so buckle up and I hope you enjoy! TITLE: The things we love, always sting the most WORD COUNT: 2.3k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x Reader WARNING: Possible character death, talks of killing another person, angst, poison, the whole works! TAGS: Lot's of angst, canon violence, possible poisoning, fighting, possible character death.

A/N: So this was a sad one to write my friends! I hope you enjoy, not beta read as always and I take constructive criticism as per usual! -

You were breathless as you headed towards the jungle with Katniss, Peeta, Mags and Finnick. The fight at the cornucopia had been brutal. Weapons had flown from every direction, and you had fallen into the water. You weren’t the biggest fan of being wet but there wasn’t anything you could do about that now.

You were lost in your own thoughts as you walked further. You had just watched people you had known for years fall in seconds. People you had been friends with … your district partner, Hyvar, had died. You hoped that Johanna, Wiress and Beetee were safe, somewhere they could regroup and find their way to you. You had watched people you had known for years fall in seconds. You just hoped that Johanna, Wiress and Betee had all found one another and were safe as they could be.

The sound of the cannon going off made your body shrivel, almost as if it had transported you back to your own games. You had been sixteen and forced to kill people … kill other children, and that canon was a stark reminder that it wasn’t over yet. It would never be over.

At least you had Finnick, the one person who kept you sane throughout everything. You hadn’t watched his games, your mother not allowing you to watch such senseless acts of violence, she had always been against the games. It was strange to stand side by side with him in this, but you were grateful for his presence.

Another cannon went off.

“Well I guess we're not holding hands anymore.” Finnick chuckled, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Finnick.” You snapped, trying to shut that thought down. 

Those people were the few in this world who understood what it was like to be a Victor, a pawn for the Capitol. Some of them had been your friends. 

“You think that's funny?” Katniss questioned him, a passive look on her face. You couldn’t quite read her yet, but you knew that she wasn’t happy. 

“Every Time that cannon goes off it’s music to my ears.” Finnick said, as though that should be obvious. He was steady, not swaying, clearly in game mode. “I don’t care about any of them.”

“That’s-” You started …

But Katniss pulled a sword from its sheath.

“Good to hear.” She said, simply, face remaining unchanged. 

“No.” You said raising your hands between them, you were all supposed to be allies … fighting together in this moment. There needed to be some semblance of peace, even if it was tentative and rocky. “We may not like this, but we're allies, right? So let’s act like allies.” You felt as though you were parenting two young stubborn children.

For the first time in a long time you didn’t understand what was going through his head, what was his game here and why hadn’t he talked to you about it? You had been together since you were both eighteen, now twenty four, and while this situation wasn’t ideal … you felt as though he flipped a switch in his mind. This side of him wasn’t something you particularly liked, and you certainly didn’t want to play peacekeeper if they were going to be at each others throats.

“Right.” Finnick said. “Besides, what would Haymitch say?”

“Haymitch isn’t here.” Katniss gritted her teeth.

“Let’s keep moving.” Peeta spoke up, starting to move from his spot.

You were thankful that someone else was level headed.

You all moved deeper into the jungle, silence falling over the group. The sound of crunching leaves, and dirt being the only thing filling the air. Your games had been in a desert terrain, so you felt out of your element. You were used to sand, rocks and dunes covering the earth around you, not thick and lush jungle. At least the trees provided better cover than some rocks, though water was proving just as difficult to find.

After long hours of walking you had found a place to secure Mags so everyone could go off and find some food or water. You weren’t particularly fond of the thought of splitting up, not trusting that Katniss and Peeta would come back, and not trusting yourself alone with Finnick, you were still angry about the interactions on the beach.

You walked with Finnick in silence, eyes and ears peeled for the sound of moving animals or the possible sighting of berries. It felt awkward to be alone with him, but … you loved him, you couldn’t deny that.

“Hey.” Finnick said, grabbing your hand lightly.

“Don’t touch me.” You snapped, anger in your voice. “What the hell was that? Treating Katniss and Peeta that way? Talking about the other tributes like that? They’re our allies, Finnick, don’t fucking play coy with me here. I’m not an idiot and neither are you, maybe try harder?” You sucked in a breath, hoping to calm yourself down,

“Y/N-”

“No. Finnick I love you, I do … just try harder with them, she’s distrustful and we don’t need that.” You said, finally looking at him.. “We don’t need to talk about this right now. I just … just give me some space. I’m angry. I don’t want to be angry with you.” You told him, pinching the bridge of your nose.

The Capitol was watching, Snow was watching. You didn’t need Finnick or yourself sorting through emotional baggage or providing entertainment by fighting for the world to see.

Finnick had a persona, that was something you knew. But that wasn’t Finnick, and what you couldn’t understand is why he didn’t want to be himself. Was it the sponsors? Was it the fact that everyone could see your every move in here? You hadn’t been able to talk much before entering the arena, so you only knew the basis of what he was going to do, and the plan Haymitch had told you.

Gods above, that plan. How in the hell were you going to make sure that Katniss and Peeta got out of this alive if they barely trusted you? There was so much that needed to be done in here, and you couldn’t do it alone. But Finnick was not helping in the slightest, or that’s what you felt like. ,

“Listen …” He tried.

“We should get back to Mags, there isn’t any food here … hopefully they found some water or something.” You sent him a small hopeful look, before turning back towards where you came from.

–

Peeta almost dying was not something that you had accounted for. The forcefield had shot him back out of nowhere, and the amount of time you had all spent desperately trying to help him breathe again had been agony. 

This game felt far worse than anything you had gone through before. It was clear that something was off about the whole arena, you just weren’t sure what it was yet. 

“Do you hear that?” Finnick whispered, looking towards the trees. 

You hadn’t, but you immediately jumped into action and grabbed your sword. You were always on high alert, and you weren’t going to let anything touch anyone here. 

“I’ll go check it out and meet you guys back here, later.” You said, moving to stand. You needed some time to breathe, and protecting everyone was the main priority. In your mind this was a win-win situation. 

“You can’t go alone.” Finnick, protested standing to go with you.

You held up your hand to stop him. “Finn, stay here … protect Mags and everyone else. I can handle myself.” You told him.

You weren’t sure what was out there, no one was, but you had your chosen weapon and a spiteful rage deep within you. You were sure you could handle what was to come.

“Y/N-” He tried to protest again.

“They need protection. I’ll be fine.” You told him, heading off towards the woods on your own. 

You kept low as you crept through the jungle, looking for what could have alerted Finnick. Your eyes barely adjusted to the darkness that surrounded you, a stark contrast to the bright lights of the fire you had been in front of just moments ago. You kept walking, caution lacing every move you made. 

The jungle felt far too quiet as you made your way towards a clearing, how far had you gone from camp? Nothing around you seemed familiar anymore and you weren’t sure why … What the hell was going on?

“Shit!” You felt a small sting in your leg, and looked down … had something stung you? 

You felt dizzy as you braced yourself against a large tree trunk, you couldn’t feel your hands … you couldn’t feel anything?

Your eyes dropped slowly as your body slumped down towards the ground and darkness finally took over

–

“I say, we take them out next.”

“We can’t just do that … they could prove useful … I mean have you seen them with a sword?”

You awoke with a start, heart racing as you looked around … where was Finnick? You moved through the moss and spotted them all around a fire.

“They are useless to everything … the rebellion. Kill them and we get ourselves out of here. They are collateral damage.””

You felt your heart stop …that was Finnick’s voice … and he had to be talking about you, there was no one else you could think of.

“Y/N!”

“That’s smart.”

Peeta? What was going on?

“Good then when they fall asleep tonight that’s when we strike, they won’t know what hit them.”

Finnick’s smirk sent chills down your spine, how could he be doing this? How could he even think about betraying you … didn’t he love you?

“Y/N!”

–

Your eyes fluttered open and you let out a loud scream, throwing yourself away from the blonde man in front of you. Your body was hot, everything around you felt like fire and despite what people thought … you weren’t going down without a fight. Not against anyone, even Finnick. 

“Y/N?! What’s going on? We searched for you all night …we lost Mags … there was fog …” Finnick rambled, his eyes wild and bewildered at the sight of you. He looked like had been crying. 

You knew he was trying to distract you … he had to be. There was no other explanation after what you had seen. He was trying to manipulate you with the use of Mags and the pathetic way he stood. 

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Finnick Odair.” You spat, holding out your sword, stretching it forward as far as you could. “But I heard what you were talking about all night, and I am not going down without a fight, you think I’m going to sit here and talk about bullshit then you’re so wrong.” Your hands were shaking, your whole body trembled in fear.

Your head hurt, and your body felt light … something had happened in the forest and you weren’t sure what did … but there was no way you were losing your life to someone you thought you loved, and who you thought loved you.

“Y/N? What the hell is going on? What happened in those woods?” Finnick questioned, a look of concern filling his face.

“Like I’d tell you anything!” You snapped, raising the sword a little higher. “You proved last night that you didn't love or care about me! You just want me dead!” You cried, tears falling from your eyes

“What?! Of course I love you! We came to find you, you had been gone for an hour! I was worried. Finnick cried, his own tears falling down his cheeks. “We only just got to you because last night we were chased by swarming monkeys and almost died due to poisonous fog?! How could you have heard anything we said, you were miles away! We searched high nd low!!” Finnick cried, trying to reach his hands out to you.

“Any closer and I’ll put this sword through your heart.” Your own heart was racing, unsure of what to believe anymore … you felt dazed and confused and disorientated, nothing felt real anymore. 

“Don’t you trust me?” Finnick whispered, heartbreak lacing every word that he spoke.

“I don’t know.” You sobbed.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every inch you moved was agony … you were going to die in here whether it was by Finnick or something else taking you out. You weren’t going to make it to the rebellion.

Loud sobs echoed through the forest as you dropped to your knees, body finally giving out on you.

Finnick was over to you in seconds, not caring if you fought him off with knives or threats of violence. He pulled you to his chest and you trembled against him, sweat lacing your brows.

“It’s okay … It’s okay. I got you.” Finnick whispered, rocking you both. “God Y/N I can’t lose you in here, I can’t. I lost Mags already, you have to fight whatever happens. You have to know that I love you.” He sobbed, holding you as close as possible. 

“I can’t” You thrashed desperately trying to pull away from him, out of fear or something else, you didn’t know. “I can’t!” 

“Please.” Finnick begged, keeping his grip on you.

You stopped fighting in that moment, letting yourself fall against him, your body felt numb and you didn’t think you had it in you to keep going. 

“Y/N?”

The sky seemed bluer in that moment as you looked towards it, it was gorgeous as the sun shone through the trees. Finnick’s face filled your vision and you felt a warmth overtake you … you were safe … you had to be … he didn’t really want to kill you did he?

“I love you.” Finnick said, voice hoarse as his hand traced the edges of your face. “Please stay.”

“I love you.”  You told him.

The jungle was quiet again, too quiet despite the long eventful night and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of cannon fire in the air.

[bgsdraws]

another year woah, i need to start playing stardew valley again nice to see more of my ocs here. i want to draw thwm more and develop their stories next year Now, me being angsty and mentally unwell (vent) under the cut :

Honestly? Looking at this makes me feel a little bit sad and tired. It's just that I've always had this ''cycle'' I go through. I go from loving my art and being on the top of the world, the greatest artist who has ever lived, holy light comes out of my wacom drawing tablet, to hating and believing I've lost all the skill I once had and will never be able to do something like it again; I switch between these 2 mindsets every few months. And it's just so annoying. (I want to make it clear that I know these thoughts aren't true and I don't really think like this about myself. It's just how I feel when I'm in that part of the cycle.) I just feel like a failure who has never learned how to do anything good, even with years of practice, that I've stagnated, regressed, that anything good I ever did was just pure luck, and I will never be able to create something I like and that brings me joy ever again. It just hurts so much because I don't think I can do that; I don't think I can go back to being someone who just observes other people's art. I would honestly rather die; I probably would die. I need to be there, to create it; I need to feel happy and look at what I'm creating with pride. I want to feel good about the stuff I do. And I do When the other half of the cycle begins When that happens, it always feels like some of the best moments in my life, and I'm so happy with my art, and being happy with my art makes me even happier; it's euphoric. Why can't it always be like that? Because I do love my art, I recognize my skill, and I'm happy to create what I create. So why does my brain do this to me? Why does it decide to cast some sort of spell every other 3 months that makes me hate it and see no future in myself? There's no trigger, no inciting incident; it just happens, every time with no failure. Always the same ''routine.'' And noticing its coming doesn't make me able to stop it. I've tried, but I discovered I just need to ride it out. And even though I know what's happening, I know it's just another half of that damned cycle; it doesn't make all those thoughts and feelings feel less true or correct at that moment. Knowing better doesn't make me feel better. And after it is done, after I've finally started being able to feel and think ''normally,'' there's always this wave of shame and embarrassment for how much I overreacted to certain things. I feel guilty and embarrassed about being aware of what was happening and still believing those thoughts. ''You should know better; it's always like this, you know it.'' Right at the end of the most recent ''my art sucks and will always suck and I should die'' phase (that just ended, by the way; I've been feeling like that since October, I think), I sketched a thing for a friend. In the middle of drawing it, I was feeling horrible; I was so happy to start something that would make someone I love happy. But everything just looked awful, gross, the ugliest thing that has ever graced this earth. And I just kept thinking, "Where have all the years I've dedicated to learning anatomy and rendering gone?" Was I always this bad? Were all my good grades and compliments a lie? Was all of it in vain?'' I ended up just crying and going to bed. And then, the next day, I opened that file again, preparing myself to see that monstrosity on my screen again. And it was fine; the drawing was nice. I have no idea what my eyes were seeing that last night, how distorted they had to be seeing it to think that it looked ''awful and gross.'' It makes me feel so stupid, so overdramatic. All of that for this? Really? For something that really didn't have any problems at all I just wish I could always see my art as I can see it now. I love it; why can't I love it all the time? It's just not fair.

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

heartless - a criminal minds episode\\part 1

part 2, part 3, masterlist

- english is not my first language pleas exuse any spelling or grammer mistakes.

- this case is made up

- it happens around the.. 6th season, i think? so the team is Hotch, dave, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and reid

- it will end up being Reidxreader kinda

The doorbell rang. Layla fixed her robe and went to the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, as she was crying for a while now. A few days ago, the body of her fiance, James, was found. They covered most of him, she only saw his face to confirm it is him. She opened the door and looked to the right, and then to the left, but no one was there. Finally, she looked down and there she found a package. She picked it up and laid it on the desk next to her phone. The senders address on the package was one she didn't recognize, and her stomach ached in anxiety and fear. What if she's next?

She grabbed her coat from the hanger near the entrance, looking for a card In every single pocket, and when she finally found it she dialed the number on it with shaking hands. She paced in her living room as she was waiting for officer Williams. He told her to call if anything comes to mind, someone who'd seek vengeance on James, or if anything suspicious would happen.

A knock on the door. “Miss Garrison, it is Officer Williams” a vaguely familiar voice called from the other side of the door, and so she opened it. She shaked the officer's hand and allowed him to step inside. Layla was stressed before, but something about the officers demeanor made her even more anxious to open the package. “Do you want any… coffee, tea, or… just water, I have some cookies as well” Layla started rumbling, trying to be a good host as she was taught to be, even tho she is hosting under horrific terms. “Maybe some tea, yeah, I'll open the package while you do that” The officer said, sad smile on his face.

He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and put them on as Layle went to the kitchen. It felt so lonely in the apartment since James’s death, and she was somewhat happy to have company. She filled the kettle up with water to boil. Her eyes traveled between closets, trying to remember which one was the one with the tea cups, and where the hell did she put the tea itself. It was all a blur, James was the organized one. Eventually she found what she looked for and placed two mugs on the counter. She had two types of tea. “officer Williams, do you prefer green tea or berrys one?” she called out, and when the answer was bearly heard, she went to the living room.

“I'm so sorry, I can't hear-” she started, but her eyes stuck on the officers horrified face. “what is it?” she asked, “officer, what-” she said, coming closer. “stay back” he ordered, “I don't want you to see this. I called forensics, this is evidence”. “Officer, just tell me what this is” Layla said, panic setting in her voice. “Miss Garrison, when we found James's body… his heart was missing. I belive this is… it” the officer said..

….

“Reid, JJ, common, new case. hotch want us all in the conference room” (y\n) calls as they pass by their desks. The rest of the unit is already there when they arrive. “James Dekota, he was engaged to Layla Garrison until he found his unfortunate death. His heart was taken, and a few days later, shipped to Layla’s door” JJ explains as the relevant photos switch behind her. “Same thing happened with Fiona Nordwick who was engaged to Daniel Clark, and Sean williams who was engaged to Winona Rock” JJ continues. “Okay, so the unsub is targeting a half of an engaged couple, what makes him choose the one over the other?” Emily says, scrunching her eyebrows. “We find that out, and we have our unsub” Dave says. "wheels up in 30" Hotch says, nodding at the team.

…

"okay, so, taking the heart is… symbolic, but of what?" Prentiss wonderes out loud. "well, Joe smith took his victims hearts and kept them as trophies - but that's not the case here. this unsub is not keeping the hearts" JJ says, "and he is crossing gender and race lines - he kiiled males and females, and Sean williams was black". "his motive must be something about the victims personality than, something about their behavior made him attcack them" Dave says. "well, both the male victims worked in the insurance field" (y\n) says, "williams was an administrator for Nationwide and Dekota was a technichal analist for Omega, maybe this is what connects the victims". (y\n) knew it was along shot, considering Fiona Nordwick wasn't connected to the insurence field, she was a legal secretary. "(y\n) could have a point - we should ask Garcia to check, maybe Fiona Nordwick was a part of a case connected to the insurance field" Hotch says, pulling out his phone to text everyones favorite technical analyst. Reid was awfully quiet, thoughts running throgh his mind.

"whats on your mind, pretty boy?" Morgan asks. "Well, i just keep thinking…what if we are overthinking this, you know? trying to put a complicated meaning to this when it could just be literal, if the unsub attacks people for being engaged… what if taking the hearts is symbolic? hinting they have no heart?" he says, furring his eyebrows as he puts his thoughts into words. "this could be it" Prentiss says. "good thinking Dr. Reid" Hotch says. "we should try and check if any of the victims were being unfaithful" JJ says.

the tablet on the plane was ringing, and soon enough Garcia showed up on the screen. "well, my preeties, it appears that Fiona Nordwick was handeling a case regarding an insurence company not paying up, but i hightly doubt this is the connection, since it was a long time ago and she was in the begining of her carrer, even i had to dig deep to find this".

"well, if that not the connection, what is?" (y\n) said, slightly dissapointed her idea was proven wrong. they were new to the team and they wanted to prove themselves. They knew they'll get the chance, but just wondered when. "the unsub must find his victims somehow, maybe a wedding venue they all checked?" Morgan says, "baby girl, think you can find that out for me?". "oh you bet your fine ass that i can. talk to you later, my pretty crime fighters" Garcia says, and then hungs up.

[midwestmade29]

Choose Me (Part 3)

Christmas writing prompt: #20 (A couple broken up get invited to a Christmas party) Word Count: 1,023 Divider by: @benkeibear Be sure to check out @madhatterbri's [full list] of Christmas/New Year writing prompts!

Lots of dialogue in part 3 😮‍💨 and still dripping with lots of angst!

I think I’m gonna have to give @madhatterbri her angst crown back after writing this story. Not my strong suit, but always good to switch things up from time to time.

Only disclaimers I would say part 3 has is manipulation and some cursing 😬

Every story has an ending...but will yours be happy?

“Aww, you look upset. What’s wrong sunshine?” Shayna asked with smug smile on her face. “Please move.” You said sternly, but she didn’t budge. “What do you want Shayna? Isn’t there someone else around here you can torment? Maybe some new executive’s ass you can kiss?” Shayna only laughed at your sarcasm which made your blood start to boil. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous! You only wish you could do what I do. Afterall, I do have the grandest prize of all in my bed at night while you’re all alone in yours. Poor thing, it must be so sad knowing Christian chose me over you!” She said, faking a pouty face. Her words cut straight to your core making you want to run and hide like you have the last few months, but you knew you couldn’t waiver. “Look, I really don’t have anything else to say to you other than you won. You won Shayna! Christian is yours! If he wants you to suck the life out of him again like a God damn vampire, then so be it. He saw right through your bullshit before, so one can only hope he will again. Just tell me one thing. Why? Why would you meddle with Christian and I and tear us a part?” As soon as you asked the infamous question, you regretted it because you weren’t sure if you were truly ready to hear the answer.

“Oh honey, isn’t it obvious? I’m a grown woman and you’re just a little girl! Why in the world would someone like Christian ever stay with someone like you? You can’t give him what he needs! Don’t get me wrong, I applaud you for catching his attention for a little while, but now he’s where he belongs and that’s in-between my legs.” Shayna said victoriously. “You stole him from me, so I simply took back what’s mine. An eye for an eye if you will.” Your jaw dropped at her confession and your stomach started to turn at the thought of Christian being intimate with her. Your head felt like it was spinning as you tried to process everything. You felt like crying and screaming at the same time the more her words sank in, but you had to say your peace. “Sounds to me you’re not as grown as you say you are playing these types of childish games. My life is not a game and Christian is not a prize to be won! We are more than pawns in your sick game. Shame on you!” Fury burned in Shayna’s eyes the more you went on. “You just couldn’t stand that he finally got the courage to leave your toxic ass in the first place! So please, cut the shit and move out of my way.”

Without another word, you walked right past her, feeling 10 pounds lighter having unloaded the thoughts and feelings you had built up inside of you for so long. Your strappy heels clacked on the marble stairs as you walked down them, the sound echoing off the walls. Once you reached the bottom step, you heard someone rushing down them not too far behind you. “Y/N! Wait!” Christian called out, but you kept walking and didn’t look back. He eventually caught up with you and tried to stop you when he grabbed hold of your wrist. “Don’t!” you shouted as you pulled your wrist free from Christian’s grasp. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave like this. I didn’t mean to ruin your night or to upset you. I wasn’t even sure you were here until I heard someone call your name earlier. Once I saw you, I couldn’t stay away. I had to talk to you.” He confessed. After exchanging words with Shayna, you felt numb, so Christian’s words fell upon deaf ears. When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “When Kris finally stopped chewing me out, I saw you say something to Shayna before walking away. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Feeling exasperated over everything, every thought and feeling you had left spilled from your lips. “You wanted to make sure I was okay? What about Shayna? Shouldn’t you be checking on your girlfriend instead?” He tried to interject, but you stopped him and continued. “You made your choice Christian. I’m not going to beg you to change your mind and choose me instead. If you’re willing to give up everything we had together, then I have to make a choice too. I have to let you go.” Something you said must’ve hit a nerve because he showed his true colors when his next words were coated with condescension. “You have to let me go?” he scoffed. “I did what I had to for my career! I’m all everyone talks about, and Shayna adds to that. I can’t give up that kind of clout! Being with her makes sense for business and that’s what fills my bank account.” In the matter of a few seconds, your entire world caved in once again. All this time you thought you knew Christian, but you were sadly mistaken. You had fallen in love with an imposter and someone who clearly loved fortune and fame more than they loved you.

You pulled yourself out of the stupor you were in, doing your best to hold back the tears that threatened to flow when you replied to Christian. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re willing to sacrifice true happiness and love for money and notability? It’s evident now more than ever that you are lost. So lost. I hope somewhere down the road you’re able to find your way again Christian. You and Shayna are a match made in hell and the two of you deserve each other!” Without a second glance, you turned and walked away, leaving Christian standing alone in the vestibule just like he left you the night he broke your heart in your apartment. He didn’t even try to say anything further, he could only stand and watch as the best damn thing to ever happen to him walked right out the door.

Phew, glad that’s over 🤣 Now, time to write some smut & fluff!

[thesoundofchains]

So, I decided to read Queen of Glass to try and soothe my Doraelin heart and I'm kinda not satisfied.

To start off, I read Throne of Glass in middle school but never got around to reading any of the other books. Later on, in highschool, I decided to go in the Tumblr tags to see what was going on with the ship specifically and I found out that she'd switched love interests (more than once). It was disappointing but not as disappointing as if I'd gotten the other books and kept reading with the hope that they'd end up together. And I know that you really shouldn't base your enjoyment of books just based on who the character ends up with (even if there's multiple love interests involved, which I don't like reading anyway) but I was attached and I'm not one to ship one character with multiple people, even though I can recognize another good pairing.

I knew about Queen of Glass and was always curious about reading it but I just never sought it out until today. I really don't remember what stirred up my feelings over the ship again but it started off with me once again looking through the tag on Tumblr and reading everyone's thoughts. People's perspectives are different so I'm curious about what happens in the first 3-4 books specifically since apparently those books are Queen of Glass split into different parts, with some obvious changes. It seems like people believe that she changed the course of the story in book 4 but with other things I've seen/read it seems like Doraelin died in book 2. Anyways, it was super late at night and I decided to skim through Queen of Glass (which may have contributed to my dissatisfaction). It was surprisingly emotional for me and I'll definitely go back and read it all but there was something major that made me emotional and a little unsatisfied: Chaol and Aelin.

I know that Chaol and Aelin are a thing, if only for a little while in the books. It pained me the first time to read that she gets with Dorians best friend and their relationship goes farther than theirs ever would. One time, I went to Barnes and Noble, got curious, opened Crown of Midnight up to a random page, read her and Chaol happily sneaking off together, and immediately closed the book. When I went into Queen of Glass, I knew something was going to happen between them but at first, it was just a one and done thing. She's struggling with her feelings toward Dorian and in an attempt to convince Chaol (and herself) that she was NOT in love with him, they end up sleeping together. Lust overtakes Chaol but he sees through her and they both agree that while they care for each other, they don't love each other and this was a way to release tension. Ultimately, this brings them together closer. Later on, things change a bit. After she leaves, becomes Aelin, and decides to make her return, Chaol has a vision of a possible future in which they're married and have a family. It reminded me a bit of Re:Zero. There's a line during his premonition that says, "There would have always been that regret, that knowledge that she had chosen for herself rather than her country" and besides the fact that "What If" stories like that tend to make me cry, one of the thoughts that immediately came to my head was that Chaol was her one true love and my feelings over Dorian and Aelin ending up together were dampened immediately. As I'm writing this I can see how Dorian and her would still be meant for each other, even with the inclusion of that scene (and another scene I'll talk about) but when I read that it just made me very sad. A phrase that went through my mind was "Maybe we just aren't meant to be". At the moment, I felt that she only had to be with Dorian for the greater good and not for her own personal happiness or what would be the best path for her. Later on, there's a scene where they're talking and she thinks "She looked at him then, her heart still struggling to maintain the illusion that it was whole and healthy, and knew that she could have loved him. She knew that she should have loved him from the start of it all, and that this whole time he had been right for her". Now tell me that ISN'T alluding toward some unfulfilled true love.

Maybe, I'm just an incredibly emotional person (and I'm on my period) but, I don't know, it really hit me deep. Maybe, it's just because I'm not equipped for these types of romance stories. I do think it's a thing about differentiating the characters feelings and what the author's trying to convey. Just because a character is experiencing certain emotions and has certain thoughts doesn't always mean that it's a reflection of the author's feelings. Sometimes, the author's just trying to tell a story. My perception of how things were between Chaol and Aelin in Crown of Midnight also plays a role in how I think about this. It really seems like she completely shifted the focus from Dorian x Aelin to Chaol x Aelin in the second book, although I could be wrong (like I said, I've only read the first book and have heard/read things about the other ones).

I don't really know what I'm trying to say with this, honestly. I think I'm just trying to get my feelings out and maybe seek some sort of comfort from people who are still in the community. Like I said, I'm a very emotional person and I think I've thrown myself off a bit. I'm seeking a bit of fulfillment, if you can understand, that could probably be fulfilled by reading the books but I just can't do it. It sounds a bit babyish but whatever. I think it'd be cool to hear other people's perspectives on it, especially from people who actually have knowledge on the subject I'm talking about.

[theinsanityofacreative]

Sometimes i think about what it would be like to meet my OCs- but not in the way as if they were real people but as the creations that i have created.

Like somehow one of my OCs just popped out of the screen i was drawing on- maybe Joey since i'm always drawing him, and he just looks at me and the screen and puts two and two together and he just looks at me and says, "so you're the one that made me."

It's not a question, but I answer yes anyways. His face contorts into confliction because what other emotions do you feel when suddenly face to face with your creator. And maybe deep down he knows that everything he does and says in his own world isn't even of his own free will but of my strange and cruel imagination. But now standing next to my desk, suddenly feeling free will for the first time ever, he looks at me with his sad, downturned eyes and asks a question that has always plagued his mind. A question that only plagued his mind in the first place because I made that way.

"Why did you make me like this?"

and he says it so sadly, because why would someone create something so horrible and cruel? And my heart fills with guilt because it's not even that I want him to suffer because I love him so much but I needed him to be like this for myself. But i don't know how to put that feeling into words so I just say, "I don't know..."

"Do you hate me?" He asks,

"No, I could never hate you. You mean everything to me."

"Then why? Why would you make me go through all of these horrible things? Why would you make me such a horrible person?"

And I don't know how to answer because i dont know how to explain it's his pain that makes me love him so much. But he's close to tears and his face is an image of betrayal. So I answer honestly.

"You helped me process my own emotions. You were my outlet that kept my story from turning into yours. Every scar I etched into your skin was a scar I prevented from appearing on mine. And I just want other people to see themselves in you so you can help them too."

and maybe something clicks in his head as he looks at this tired short girl in front of him. How she can't be much older than him. Not like the powerful God that he learned about on Sundays at church. Suddenly tears are flowing down his cheeks freely. Because this person who had created him loved him so much because he was the only thing that gave her solace when she had no one.

I think i would brush his bangs out of his face. Maybe I'd laugh a little hysterically because it was crunchy and greasy just like I imagined it would be. Maybe I pull him into a hug because this boy that I love so so much is here and I can hug him and thank him and apologize to him. And maybe he hugs back and he realizes that I smell like lavender just like his sister. And of course I do because I created her too after all.

And he hesitantly looks at me, a question clearly burning in his throat, "Do I get a happy ending?"

And maybe I'm crying too. because his story is only just beginning and I have so much in store for him. and he doesn't even seem to be afraid of losing his free will once he goes back home. Maybe he knows that this exchange won't be remembered.

So I brush his bangs away and kiss his forehead. I tell him the truth, "I love you too much to not give you a happy ending."

And when he's about to leave, he's a little scared. because he knows there's more. He knows that his happy ending is going to be a long road and that there are always more stories to tell. But I comfort him. and I tell him, "You're story is the most important story I will have ever written." And for a second he smiles. and maybe he thanks me.

and it's a stupid thing to imagine because its just a character i created in my mind but he means so much to me i just wish i could let him know. and not to preach at the end but i feel like if the roles were switched it would be a similar conversation between me and God. because that's kinda what I am aren't i? a god to these characters who dont know anything outside of their world. and maybe just maybe he's comforted that his god is just a depressed young girl who just needed comfort.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

OHMKYGOSH YES i j read ur sashisu ramble… and i love love love hearing ab other people’s hyperfixations so don’t worry :33

mainly the fact that none of them could be open or vulnerable with each other …. to be honest i havent looked at sashisu very closely before but this hit me bc. I FEEL LIKE I RELATE SM :; like. i have a best friend who i’ve known since i was a baby but we’ve never ever had a serious conversation once… maybe this is unrelated but that is so tragic because to me friendships really struggle to be strong and stable against one another if you can’t ever show the side of you that’s struggling … being vulnerable w one another is key to bonding :’3

i have some thoughts about them— mainly shoko…. to me it kinda seems like she kept them at an arms length away this entire time on purpose and she still does…. maybe i’m spitballing idk i’m just basing it off the fact that satoru and suguru called her shoko but she still referred to them by surname even ‘til where we currently r in the manga (which. i will also ignore but i cant lie the memes were so funny…) but my thinking is that she did so because. even though we never really saw her much i think that’s it since she was a reversed ct user n probably didn’t have much experience fighting… maybe. hear me out just MAYBE she knew what might become of satoru and suguru since they were so enveloped in fighting and being the strongest, and both of them were so headstrong and arrogant for lack of a better term that she might’ve just… tried to keep herself from getting attached n being hurt even more than she already might’ve been simultaneously 😞😞

that still just makes me so so sad though….. they always looked so happy when they were together… maybe if they could’ve gotten suguru to talk and really listened to him for once…. alas ;; gege is an evil thing

U GET IT RIKO…

i feel exactly the same, i have two childhood friends who im very close to but none of us have ever been the type to really be vulnerable like that w each other and !! i absolutely think that strong connections need that, u need to be able to show even ur weaker side… n i guess the tragedy of suguru’s character is that he never felt comfortable showing his ”weak self” to shoko and satoru. T_T he will always make me cry like no other ….

BUT YES SHOKO !!! ur so valid riko. i love this woman so much n i think shes so interesting to talk abt !! ive been thinking abt the name thing too, i feel like its very telling of the sashisu dynamic; the fact that satoru and suguru ONLY (and i mean only) ever referred to each other w their given names, even after suguru’s defection… and how shoko refers to them as ”gojo” and ”geto” even though gojo still calls her shoko…,

i think its super interesting !! i rly rly wish i was able to read the og japanese manga, bc i feel like so many little language details like that get lost in translation (esp since the official jjk translation is kinda bad lol)… i wish we knew if shoko called them by their given names in high school, i want to think so but we just dont know </3

(i could be wrong but there was a translation on a recent chapter i read where shoko switched between ”satoru” and ”gojo”…… obv i dunno how accurate it is but i think itd be cool if we saw her start calling him satoru :’3 im delusional i still think my baby’s coming back)

but !! regardless i def think ur onto smth. i 100% see her as the type to get very detached to the ppl around her. thats why she seems so unbothered !! even tho she obv cares very much…. i think she loved both of them but she wasnt able to broach that gap between them, and after suguru’s defection i absolutely think she repressed herself even more…..

but its obvious that she still cares for them. like how she started smoking again after gojo got sealed / she found out abt kenjaku using geto’s body :((….

and yes i rly do think sugu couldve been saved if they had managed to open up like that <///3 thats what fanfic is for ig :’3… sob…..

[trendsoulmate]

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom - How a Game Made Me Cry

Hello friends. Today I’m going to tell you how I played The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and how I experienced a flood of emotions. I was very excited to play this game because I love The Legend of Zelda series and especially the Breath of the Wild game. That’s why I was eagerly waiting for this game, which is a sequel to Breath of the Wild.

When I got the game, I immediately turned on my Nintendo Switch and started playing. The beginning of the game was very impressive. Link and Zelda realize that Ganondorf has awakened and they go down to the depths of Hyrule to stop him. But Ganondorf’s power is too much and he separates them. Link finds himself on an island floating in the sky when he comes to. Zelda has to face Ganondorf.

At this point, the game gives me two options: Either I will explore the island as Link and try to reach Zelda, or I will fight Ganondorf as Zelda. I chose the first option because I wanted to try Link’s new abilities. One of the biggest innovations of the game was the Zonai devices. These were technological devices that the player could use for combat, propulsion, exploration, and more. Instead of the runes from the previous game, there were five new powers: Ultrahand, Fuse, Ascend, Recall, and Autobuild. With Ultrahand, you can lift and move different objects and attach them together. This way you can create different vehicles or structures with Zonai devices. With Fuse, you can combine materials, equipment, or certain objects in the world to a shield or a weapon and increase their attributes and durability. For example, if you combine an explosive object with an arrow, it will explode on impact. With Autobuild, you can instantly recreate a device you made with Ultrahand, but you need zonaite for that. Zonaite was a substance you could find in the world. With Ascend, you can move upwards through solid surfaces. This way you can switch between the islands in the sky. With Recall, you can “rewind” an object and reverse its movement.

Using these powers, I started exploring the island. The graphics of the game were very beautiful and the atmosphere of the island was very impressive. There were different animals, plants, and enemies on the island. There were also clues to find hidden places on the island. I followed them and tried to uncover the secrets of the island.

One of the most interesting places on the island was a temple. There were different puzzles and traps in the temple. I tried to solve them but sometimes it was very hard. Especially when I encountered a huge boss at the end, I had a hard time. The boss was very powerful and kept attacking me. I tried to find his weak point but failed.

At this point, the game gave me a hint: I had to target the necklace on his head. I tried it but he protected his necklace. I tried to surprise him by throwing different objects at him with Ultrahand but it didn’t work.

Then an idea came to my mind: Could I make an explosive arrow with Fuse? I decided to try it and found an explosive object. Then I combined it with an arrow and aimed at his necklace.

And it exploded!

His necklace broke and he fell to the ground.

I ran to give him the final blow.

And I did it!

I beat him and completed the temple.

At this point, the game congratulated me and told me that it opened a new way to reach Zelda.

I was very happy and prepared to go to Zelda.

But then…

The game froze!

Yes, it froze!

It froze in the middle of the game!

And my last save point was where he was!

So I had to beat him!

Again!

And maybe again!

And again!

This made me very angry and sad.

How could such a thing happen?

How does a game freeze?

How does such a big game make such a big mistake?

This caused me to be disappointed.

And cry.

Yes, I cried.

I told you how a game made me cry.

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

It really makes you shed tears.

[misscammiedawn]

(Cammie note: this has been in our drafts since Dec 2023)

Reblogging this today, coincidentally a year later, as it came to mind.

It was about the time this post was made that we received our DID diagnosis. The recording of that session where we received the F44.81 stamp had me directly say to my clinician "But I don't get blackouts though."

Denial. It comes and goes in waves but it never stops its barrage.

The post above is yet another kernel of proof. I do have memory gaps and missing time. Quite often. The issue is that I sensationalized the idea in my head and it's not a sharp switch between "know" and "don't know" or "remember" and "don't remember".

It's a gradient. A smooth transition between states that simply cannot be internally perceived.

Today required me to pull up my divorce records for a legal thing we are navigating. I had looked through my emails and folders and found them empty. I looked through social media and Discord for references to the date so I could do a targeted search.

I found nothing.

Past us had deleted every reference to the event. Of course she did. When we are hurt... Really hurt we dissociate hard enough that in the moment we act like there was never an upsetting event. In 2022 we tore out our own heart and then... didn't mention it. When I look through my journals I can recognize the blank spots now. January 2002, September 2005, the entirety of 2016 and 2019 for some reason, and of course July 2022.

2019-2020 is a blur. The only reason I have records of 2020 is because my therapist at the time was holding me accountable for my journaling. I have learned that I cannot trust the things I typed in that period of my life anyway.

I refer to it as "self-sabotage" in the original post but I think it's more a disruption in a framework designed to make a neat continuity.

The divorce happened. I know this. Deleting the chatlogs and documents and email correspondence does not change that fact. But it is now "in 2020 I got divorced" and when you interrogate the concept and try to apply a memory to it you may get the room this happened in, it was a Zoom call, I was at my desk.

Do you remember what you felt when you saw her for the first time after a year?

Do you remember who you went to for comfort afterwards, if you did at all?

Were you afraid?

Was it daytime or night time?

How long did the call take?

What age/gender was the judge?

How many people were on the call with us?

Were you happy or sad when it was over? Did you cry? Did you scream? Did you celebrate?

Do you actually remember this huge event in your life?!

...turns out I don't remember. I didn't let myself remember. But I know what happened and that's enough.

This right here, the ability to rationalize through things, is why people (until recently) did not get diagnosed with DID until their late 30s. Albeit there is a level of clinician bias and a anecdotal 7-10 years of misdiagnosis adding to the fact.

So why did I write this today?

Well I needed my divorce records and that meant opening Hell Box.

Opening Hell Box is always a discomforting experience for us. It's flooded with things we cannot deny. Things we cannot permanently throw away (as well as external hard drives filled with stuff that I would dwell on if I were to have access to them).

Inside I find photographs and drawn images that I do not recall. Letters from former loved ones, proof that they cared about me and kept in touch with me even after I abandoned them. I had forgotten that such letters existed. I shall likely forget again.

I find legal documents including the one I sought. I find a Sonic the Hedgehog themed gift still in box and I wonder "who got this for me? When? Why?" and of course "How did you end up in Hell Box?"

It's that magnet against eyeballs feeling again. That complete and utter void that you sense and decide "it's not important", "don't worry about it" and you just let it go.

It's easy to let it go.

Just don't dwell on it.

And so it is. The papers are retrieved. I close the lid on the hell box again and pretend it is not once more.

Alas.

(April 2024 edit: fuuuuuck! We need to work out our divorce date again for post citizenship paperwork and forgot again!! BACK TO THE GOD DAMNED HELL BOX WITH US!)

Hypnotic Amnesia and Eternal Sunshine

Personal post

Trying to watch movies again and put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind because I've not watched it since my BPD diagnosis and apparently support communities seem to think it's a perfect and empathetic media representation of the condition and I wanted to go through it again with that in mind.

Firstly, they're not wrong. But I'll unpack that in private.

What I wanted to note is just how realistic the depiction of soft mental gymnastics and continuity of consciousness is. Strange of me to say how a plot of "scientifically erasing memories" is realistic, but I've played around with hypnosis and dissociate enough to know what it's like to experience.

The present day segments of the movie are punctuated by Joel writing in his journal. We get to experience his internal narrative as he experiences the events of the day. It helps build his character, get an idea of how he perceives the world and most importantly it gets to show how he ignores the "blips" of his machine induced amnesia.

For those who have not seen the movie, the story revolves around a relationship between Jim Carrey's Joel character and Kate Winslet's Clementine character. After they break up Joel discovers that Clementine erased Joel from her mind using a procedure that targets memories.

It's actually a good allegory for how BPD break-ups go. *looks over shoulder at my Hell Box, where all the things that remind me of my former life go to die; and the external hard drive that contains all the chatlogs and journals from that period of my life that I needed to remove to prevent re-reading them and triggering myself*

During the intro of the movie Joel, post-procedure, skips work and goes to Montauk and bumps into Clementine. Neither one of them recognizing one another because they both had the procedure; during which they meet and build an organic relationship that is a little bit influenced by their unconscious comforts with one another; having built a long lasting relationship together.

The amnesia and the unconscious compulsions ("Meet me in Montauk") aren't treated as programming or commands by Joel, though.

He opens his journal and notes ripped pages "I don't remember doing that" and the gap in time and simply plows through.

When I am responding to an amnesia suggestion or am faced with evidence of my own self-sabotage, I can sometimes perceive it as an act of an earlier Camden to try and prevent me from experiencing something, but more often than not there's a little bit of a dysphoric feeling which I describe as a like charged magnet against my eyes that softly pushes you away from the offending evidence.

You don't see something like that and instantly go straight to "No. This is WRONG. I would NEVER do something like that!" and start getting worked up. You note that it's odd and something inside you just ushers you along out of that moment, like the discomfort of experiencing it is so strong that you do not linger in it.

I see a lot of takes from movies where people project their "that makes no sense" "why didn't he?" attitudes, but they handle it about as would be expected. When he feels the compulsion to suddenly go to Montauk it's not like a maiden being risen from their sheets to unlock the window for Count Dracula, it's a series of soft triggers.

Standing at the train station on his way to work he sees the train going in the other direction. A train he has taken in the past to a destination that holds a significance he doesn't quite understand, but it just feels right. He is driven by the impulsive urge because by seeing the train, knowing where it's going it's just the thing he should do. As naturally and organically as anything else.

When I was first playing around with hypnosis I always thought that a trigger would do as it does in media. Make you recoil, eyes dilate, code switch into an obedient setting. But no, it's just a drive, a nudge, a reminder. Don't dwell on it. Just do it.

As Joel and Clementine talk there's one moment that gets me. Clementine, after saying her name, sharply orders Joel not to make any jokes. Joel is confused, not sure what she means.

"Huckleberry Hound?" "I don't know what that is."

Later in the movie we discover that he was familiar with the "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin'" song, but it got erased because it is mapped to her in his mind and anything that reminds him of her has to go.

And that's how things are with triggers, connections and mental associations. It's so easy for innocuous things to be reminders of things/people and there are always going to be circumstances that you want erased.

One of the reasons I don't enjoy movies that much anymore is that when I was married I ran a movie theatre. Movies and that era of my life are linked. An unbreakable bond. To enjoy movies is to be who I was when I was married... before I came out the closet... and doing so is uncomfortable for me. So that like powered magnet in my brain just pushes it away, I don't enjoy watching movies anymore. Watching movies makes me feel bad and I don't want to feel bad.

Especially this one, which played a significant role in my getting married in the first place.

But here I am. Watching it. Enjoying it. Not turning away.

It's fascinating just what the brain can and will do to keep you from thinking and feeling on certain topics.

Trying to rescue the part of me that enjoys cinema is going to be a god damned project, but this stuff once brought me joy. I know it can again.

This post kind of got away from me, huh?

[justslowlylosingmywilltolive]

DUDE WHY DOES MARVEL HATE SPIDERMAN

[buckyalpine]

Loss (TW: loss of loved one)

@elliebee01 I hope you feel better soon, sending you love! TW: Reader dealing with the loss of a loved one

You were not fine.

Far from it.

You hadn't moved from the couch in 3 hours. Your face was unreadable. Whenever someone from the team asked how you were doing, you had slapped a smile on your face and told them you were just fine.

But you weren’t. 

Your eyes were red and puffy, your face tender from wiping tears away quietly in your room. You didn’t cry once in front of anyone else; you didn’t want to burden anyone with what you were feeling. 

There wasn't really a right way to deal with the loss of a loved one. Some people stayed in denial. Some felt anger. Some felt sadness. You felt...numb. Hollow. Empty. It wasn’t darkness. It was nothingness. It was so much worse. 

One day you had them with you and then next day they were gone. You didn’t really have any time to process much; arrangements were made and before you could blink, it was the last time you would ever see them again. The team supported you as best as they could  but you were moving along as if nothing had changed. You weren’t in denial...you knew they were gone. But...

*****

"Doll?" Bucky stood at your doorway, watching you carefully. He’d tried to talk to you multiple times but you pushed everyone away. “You okay?” 

"I'm fine Bucky, really" You smiled, going about arranging your room, putting back the same things that were already in place repeatedly. Bucky watched your robotic movements, the smile on your lips didn’t match the blank empty hollowness in your eyes. 

“Can I come in?”

“Of course!”  Your voice sounded cheery but Bucky could hear the strain from your tired vocal chords. He stepped in your room, carefully closing the door behind him before making his way to the spotless desk you were diligently wiping. 

“You know you’re not alone y/n, you don’t have to pretend everything’s okay”

“I know, but I just- I really am doing okay” 

You went back to cleaning while Bucky smiled sadly; he knew you. You’d bottle everything on the inside, not wanting to burden others, keeping all your feelings to yourself instead. He took the duster from your hand, setting it aside while you looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to reach for it but he stopped you. 

“Bucky, what are you-

“Come here” 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug; He kept your head tucked under his chin, your face pressed against his chest. The second you felt his warmth, you could feel your eyes sting, your throat constricting. 

“I-Bucky, honestly I-I’m f-fine” You swallowed thickly, trying to keep your lips from trembling but the longer he held you, the harder it was. 

“I know” He whispered, gently stroking your hair, still not letting you go. “Just wanted to hold my best friend”  

“M’fine, y-you don’t have to be here” You whispered, your voice trembling. You squeezed your hands, trying to stay strong but it only made everything worse, your body starting to shake. 

“I know, I want to be here” 

The longer you tried to keep you cries away, the more pain you felt. Bucky’s heart broke, hearing the first sob slip from your lips, your body unable to hold itself up while more wracked your body. He carefully carried you close to him, cradling your body against his while he laid down on your bed, pulling the covers over you both. 

He held you the entire night, rubbing your back and kissing your hair while you switched between telling him about the happy memories you had and breaking down over and over again when you realized they were gone. 

“M’sorry, I-I kept you up all night” You voice was hoarse, looking at the time; it had been hours since Bucky first came in and it was now the middle of the night. 

“Y/n, you never have to be sorry, I’m here because I want to be. Always here for you my doll” He pulled you closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. “All day, night, with all the hugs and kisses you need, I’m always here”

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Research

Finally wrote something again! Sorry it took so long. 

How exactly do you get a dog to lose your scent? Because avoiding your werewolf boyfriend Embry was proving a lot harder than you had anticipated. Last weekend was… eventful. You guys had finally done it. Gone all the way. After 6 months of dating and an imprint bond, you both finally decided you were ready to take that next step. And you’ve only had one thought since that night. 

That shit hurted. 

It was borderline unbearable. The pain was searing. You lied there until Embry was done, faking moans and even faking the Big O, and you were less than eager to do it again. Were you broken? He seemed to enjoy it, so obviously you were to blame. He’d been super clingy and lovey since that night, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have the heart to be around him knowing you had faked it like that. What if he found out? He’d be crushed. What if he wanted to do it again? You couldn’t take that pain another night. What if he faked it too and was going to break up with you the next time he saw you? Yeah, no. Avoidance was the way to go. 

He wanted to take you out to see a movie. You mysteriously came down with a case of allergies in the middle of winter. 

He wanted to pick you up after school and give you a ride home. You had the sudden urge to join a club that was meeting after school that day. 

He called, your phone was on silent. 

He texted, you suddenly became illiterate. 

But he kept trying. God, why was he making this so difficult?! Thoughts like this swirled through your head as you walked the long way home from school. He knew your usual route, so obviously that was out of the question. You took a path through the woods that would eventually spit you out right by the beach where you could sit and think. The forest had always felt like a second home to you. Peaceful, comfortable, private. You walked for some time before hearing twigs snapping in the distance. Probably a rabbit or something. Louder snapping. Bigger sticks. Definitely not a rabbit. You halted, waiting for the creature to pass, when a large gray wolf stalked out of the trees. 

Damn. 

He was wearing the softest, cutest, most “kicked puppy” look on his face that you had ever seen. Head bowed, he walked up to you slowly, whining. So he had noticed your avoidance. You held your hand out to him, petting the thick fur between his ears. He sniffed your hand, giving it a soft lick. 

“Hi,” you whispered. He whined louder at this. “Embry…” you started, before he crouched down, a silent cue for you to get on his back. He waited. 

Guess this was inevitable. And at least him showing up in wolf form gave you some time to think about how exactly you would explain what had happened. With another soft sigh, you climbed up on his back, holding the fur tightly as he trotted off into the trees. After about 5 minutes, you realized that he was taking you to Sam and Emily’s house. You weren’t in the mood to be around the rest of the pack right now. 

“Embry, I’m kind of busy today. I don’t really have time to hang out with the pack.” 

He ignored you, trotting along as if your statement was the buzz of a mosquito in his ear. When you reached the house, however, you quickly realized that no one else was there. They must all be out. It was a Friday afternoon, after all. 

When you reached the lawn, Embry stopped and crouched once more so you could dismount. When you did, he ran off behind the house, walking back out several minutes later as the inky-haired boy you had grown to love. His face was full of sadness, yours full of anxiety. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said. 

You silently followed him down the path that led to the cliffs, waiting for him to say something else. He never did, only kept walking. You struggled to keep up, but were too stubborn in your silence to ask him to slow down. You both finally reached the rocky cliffs jutting out over the frigid ocean. He stopped, staring out at the horizon. You paused next to him, waiting. After another several minutes of silence, you grew impatient. 

“It’s supposed to snow Monday,” you said. 

You waited. Silence. 

“The news said they might even cancel school.” 

A pause. Nothing. 

“I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a three day weeken-”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he cut you off, seeming agitated. For as long as you’d known Embry, he was never in a bad mood. Never anything but happy. Maybe sad on a few occasions, but never angry. Never frustrated. And it was making you nervous. 

And now it was your turn to be silent. Yes! You wanted to say. You hurt me! But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He didn’t do it on purpose, so why would you make him feel guilty about something that was your problem and your problem alone? 

“Because, if I’m counting correctly, it’s been 5 days since I’ve so much as heard from you. Barely a text back. Not a call, not a ‘hey! I’m super busy this week.’ Why are you avoiding me? I thought… after last weekend, we should be more in love than ever right?! Did it not mean anything to you?” 

You remained quiet, tears pooling in your eyes. You gave no sign that you were going to respond, so he kept going. 

“Just tell me where your fucking head is at, Y/N. You can’t keep brushing me off like this. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret what we did? Am I, like… not ripped enough for you or something?” 

“Embry, no,” you pleaded. You could see the insecurity behind his eyes. You had to tell him what was going on, but you knew it would crush him. “It’s not that at all.” 

He waited. “Then what?” 

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your face. You wiped it away quickly before taking a deep breath. “I have been avoiding you.” You looked up at his face at this, finding tears building up in his own eyes. “I love you, Embry. But last weekend, just… I can’t do that again.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but your face and nodded. He was hurt. You definitely could have worded that better. 

“Let me explain,” you pleaded. He wouldn’t look at you still, but didn’t walk away, so you kept going. “I think I might be broken or something, because that… It didn’t feel right.” 

At this, he looked back at your face, switching from hurt to concerned almost immediately. 

“Why would you think you’re broken?” 

Another pause. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose…”

“You were in pain?” he panicked, fresh tears pricking in his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault,” you hurried. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Why would you let me keep going?!” 

“I’m sorry!” you cried, causing him to walk up and embrace you. You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair, all signs of anger gone. “You were having a good time, and I didn’t wanna ruin it, but it hurt so bad…” 

“Shhhhh,” he cooed as he rocked you from side to side, letting you calm down. “It’s okay.” 

After several minutes, you finally stopped crying. He didn’t falter in his embrace, only left light kisses on your forehead and cheek. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“It’s not your fault,” you replied. 

“Yes, it is. I’m supposed to take care of you. It was my job to make you feel good, and you were hurting that bad and I didn’t even notice.” You sniffled, just enjoying being in his arms. A few more minutes passed as you both calmed down. 

“To be fair, I did take a drama class last semester. I’d say I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you added weakly, an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He huffed a laugh, if for no other reason than to make you feel better. “Had me fooled,” he added. 

You smiled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.” 

“It’s okay. I just wish you would have told me as soon as it started to hurt that you wanted to stop.” 

“I know. I should have, I just got all in my head about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll never forgive myself, and I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he answered, nervously awaiting your response. 

“I forgive you. And of course I still want to be with you, Embry. I love you. We just need to work on our communication skills a little bit,” you laughed. 

“We do. And I’ll start. I would really love another chance to make you feel good. If you promise to be honest about how you’re feeling, I know I can do a way better job. But I understand completely if you wanna wait a while… or if you never wanna do it again. You’re in charge here.” 

His words had your heart melting. He really did care about you, and you knew that if you had told him in the moment that you were in pain, he would have done anything to get you feeling good. You were always his first priority. 

“I’d be willing to try again, but what we did last time didn’t work. I think we need to think of some new techniques or something,” you mumbled shyly. 

“Tell you what. I’ll do some research, get some stuff, and you can come over tonight… if you want to. And we can maybe try again? And if you get there and aren’t feeling up to it, we can just watch a movie and cuddle. No pressure… I just miss you.” 

You thought for a second. Worst case scenario, you’d cuddle on the couch and eat junk food. You trusted Embry completely, and if you said stop, you knew he would. 

“Okay,” you replied. 

__________________________________

After a long shower, some fresh makeup, and a cute-yet-comfortable outfit, you were ready to go over to Embry’s. Sure, the nerves were kicking in, but you trusted him when he said he would do some research. When you pulled up, he was already standing in the doorway smiling. You ran out and gave him a giant bear hug (or wolf hug), and he picked you up and carried you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot. 

“I missed you,” he said, face buried in your hair. 

“You saw me like 3 hours ago,” you giggled in response. 

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you all week! Gotta get my Y/N fill or I might die!” 

You laughed loudly, hands threading up into his hair as he sat down on the bed with you seated in his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, just try not to crowd me,” you cheekily replied. 

He raised an eyebrow before tackling you back onto the bed, tickling you like a maniac and placing playful kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Like this?! Don’t crowd you like this?” 

“Embry stop!” you laughed, trying to suck in a breath between his manic tickles. When he finally stopped, he was lying between your legs, one hand grasping both your wrists above your head, the other propped beside you so as to not crush you. He stared lovingly at your face before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His grip on your arms loosened, as if to say You can stop me anytime, but you didn’t. You kissed him back, arms staying in place to tell him that you were okay. 

The kisses grew slightly more heated, but Embry kept them gentle. And every time you thought he was about to take things to the next step, he’d just kiss you some more. You were growing slightly impatient, breath labored and blood pumping fast. Your stomach became slightly warm, and every time you leaned up, he’d pull away. 

“You’re being mean,” you whimpered. 

He just looked at you and smirked before leaning down and capturing your lips once more. You could feel your blood heat in every part of your body. From your head to your toes, you felt warm and fuzzy, yet desperate for more,,, more touch, more pressure, more Embry. Growing frustrated, you hooked your legs around his waist and tried your best to pull him closer, unintentionally grinding your hips into his. When he brushed up against your core, you let out an involuntary sigh. It actually felt nice. He smiled into the kiss, pulling his lips away from yours and dragging them down to your jaw, and then your neck, suckling and sucking and leaving light red marks that made your head spin. The hand that was holding your wrists came down behind your back and up into your hair, firmly pulling your head back to give him better access to your neck. 

This movement made your entire back arch up into his body. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, lips sucking your skin up into his mouth as he nibbled, before soothing with his tongue. Your toes curled, legs pulling him impossibly closer. When he felt this, he ground his hips down into yours. The combination of his hands, lips, and weight on top of you made you let out a gasp. Your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, pulling his shirt up in an attempt to take it off. He got the hint and sat up to remove it, being away from your body for far too long for your taste. He didn’t lower fully back down, however, instead sliding his warm hands under your shirt and onto your stomach. You sat up, taking your sweatshirt off and throwing it violently across the room. His eyes widened as they looked down at your bare chest in an almost feral fashion. He gripped your thighs, tugging you down the bed with ease, and resuming his position on top of you, hands roaming all over your torso. He cupped your breasts gently, rolling your nipples softly between his fingers. You shut your eyes and threw your head back, enjoying the sensations. His kisses trailed from your neck and down to your chest, softly. Lovingly. When he reached your nipples, his tongue poked out and licked around each of them, before taking them into his mouth and sucking. His hands continued to caress your back, and he took his sweet time switching from one breast to the other, and back again, until he felt your skin grow almost as hot as his. You were writhing underneath him, panting as your mind tried to comprehend the sensations. And his mouth, God it was so warm. You felt him kiss the undersides of your breasts, and then your stomach, and then lower… 

When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he brought his hands up as if to pull them off of you. He stopped, looking up at you for permission. You gave a lazy nod Yes, and lifted your hips to help him. He pulled your underwear off as well, spreading your legs and almost salivating at the sight of your soaking pussy. Not wanting to waste another second, he once again began placing kisses on your lower stomach, and then down to your hip bones, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin, which had you shuddering. He trailed lower, to where your thighs met your core, and began to suck lightly and the soft skin there. Your clit was throbbing by now, desperate for any sort of attention. You thrust your hips up, desperate for his mouth on the place you needed him, but he only pulled your legs over his shoulders and brought his arms across your stomach to hold you in place. Your hands went to his hair in an effort to control any aspect of this situation, but the boy was strong. He teased and teased and teased, until you thought you might very well crawl out of your own skin if he didn’t properly touch you soon. Embry brought his face right up to your center and licked into your entrance, making your toes curl once more. His hands gripped your hips as he brought you as far onto his tongue as he could, nose not quite brushing where you still needed him. 

“Embry…” you whimpered, about to tell him what you needed. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he spoke, as he finally brought his warm tongue to lick a firm stripe up to your clit, swirling it around and sucking the swollen nub into his mouth. 

You let out a moan. A real one. Your first real one. And it only encouraged Embry, as he began to suck and lick with a steady rhythm that caused your legs to shake. You felt your stomach start to coil after several minutes of this, hands fisting Embry’s hair even tighter. It felt amazing, but that coil wouldn’t snap. He started to notice you coming down slightly, orgasm fading away, when he brought his index finger into your mouth. You sucked on instinct, before he pulled it out and brought it down to your entrance. He swirled the digit around a few times and began to push in slowly. One knuckle. Then two. And then he was fully in you. Sucking your clit into his mouth yet again, he rubbed his finger up into your front wall, massaging the ridges there. 

“Oh… Embry, oh my God,” you moaned. He used more pressure, and then brought his finger out and added another, slowly pushing them in together and resuming the ‘come-hither’ motion. You felt your muscles shake, losing all control, and the coil in your stomach tightened rapidly once again, only this time, it broke. Your back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard. Waves of pleasure drove through you, hands holding his head firmly onto your center. When you came down and opened your eyes, you looked down at his face to see an excited grin. 

“If you tell me that was fake, I think I’ll cry,” he chirped. 

You calmed your hard breathing enough to mutter a “That was real.” 

“Do you wanna keep going?” he asked. 

You nodded, taking note of the obvious tent in his shorts. You reached a hand down to grasp him, when he grabbed your wrist and said “Nuh-uh, I’m still making it up to you.” 

He stood up off the bed and went over to a plastic shopping bag on his desk. He opened it and pulled out a condom, some lube, and a small pink toy. Your eyes widened, and he cockily stated, “told you I’d do some research. Come here Sweetheart.” He held a hand out to help you up, and moved you so that you were on your hands and knees, bum facing him as he stood at the edge of the bed. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth and rolled it on, and then opened the bottle of lube and slathered it all over himself. He then brought what was left on his hand up to your sensitive core, distributing the substance gently. Throwing the bottle onto the floor, he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“You sure you wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded in response. “I need you to say it, babe.” 

“Yes, I want to keep going, Em,” you almost cried. 

“Okay, but I need you to tell me if it hurts even a little. Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

He grasped your hip with one hand, guiding himself in with the other. Slowly, carefully, he became fully seated inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You felt no pain, just a delicious stretch inside your walls. When Embry saw that you were relaxed, he pulled himself out a couple of inches and softly thrusted back in, looking for any signs of discomfort. He found none, and continued. He dragged himself in and out of you at a torturous pace that made your breathing pick up yet again. You needed more. You began rocking yourself back onto him, begging for a faster pace, and he complied. He pulled out several inches more this time, shoving back in at a quicker pace that had your toes curling and your moans going up in pitch. At this, he stopped holding back. Embry began pounding into you, hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave the good kind of bruise. You were moaning loudly, brain turning to mush. This is what sex was supposed to be like. What you’d always imagined it would be like. Passionate, loving, amazing. 

Embry found himself reaching the edge, but would not allow himself to finish before you. He reached down onto the bed for the small pink toy that you had forgotten about. He flicked it on, brought his other hand down and around your throat to pull you up against him, and held the small vibrator right onto your clit. The pounding pressure of his dick paired with the fervent vibrations had you seeing stars. You came. Hard. You didn’t know how long the orgasm had lasted. When you came to, you were lying on your back on the bed, breathing still labored, as Embry cleaned your thighs off with a damp towel. He noticed you looking up at him. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he cooed.

“Hey,” you responded weakly. 

“How ya doing?” 

“Really good,” you laughed. 

“Yeah?” he beamed at you as you nodded in response. “Good. I’m gonna get you some water and then we can cuddle, okay?” You only smiled in contentment as he walked off into the hallway, returning shortly with a cup of cold water. “Sit up for me?” 

“Can’t,” you answered, eliciting a laugh from him. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he spoke as he gently held the back of your head, supporting you as you leaned up to drink from the cup he was holding up to your mouth. After you took a few sips, he seemed satisfied and placed the cup on the floor, lying down next to you and pulling you close. “If you start ignoring me after that, I might have to kill you,” he teased. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever ignore you again.” You sighed in contentment, listening to Embry’s soothing heartbeat, before you began to wonder. “By the way, what the heck kind of research did you do?” 

He huffed a laugh before responding, “Some guy on the internet called Owen Grey.” 

[jechristine]

I think a huge reason some people were and imo still are salty at z for moving on with jacob but cheering on toms hoe phase is because nearly everyone painted tom as this poor baby who was dumped. From what I saw, the majority assumed z left tom because she is out of toms league and naturally there is no way he would dump her and he just wore his heart on his sleeve and came across more love sick. So tom moving on was him being hurt and lashing out by having a hoe phase while crying over zendaya while zendaya was this heartless women who easily forgot about t and moved on with JE who is physically superior to tom in their eyes i.e. being taller. They also assumed there was a serious emotional connection between zendaya and JE in comparison to tom who quite obviously was just acting on inpulse and emotion. I know I'm gonna explain this so poorly (very dyslexia) and over simplify it cause theres so many things to it including people putting zendaya on a pedestal above tom and therefore him *obviously* being unworthy and heartbroken but to me it really came down to people babying tom and projecting their feelings onto him. Which I can sort of understand why (not really lol). Looking at it from toms point of you from what we know and basing it off what seemed to be the general consensus that z was hiding tom and suddenly a few weeks later she had a man she spent a load of time with, who on paper is a better fit for her in terms of conventional standards (really him just being tall lol) on a vacation with her family after years of tom being "hidden" while he was at home heartbroken trying to shag the pain away then yes you could come to the conclusion tom was mugged off. Hes the sad, hurt and played party but there are soooooo many assumptions made to come to that conclusion. Z breaking up with tom, z hiding tom, z having stronger feelings for je cause she's comfortable enough to go public and therefore loves him more which is something I think people hugely projected and feared and is why they lashed out against z and JE so much. I think that image painted was a perfect one for people to project their emotions onto him and get angry on his behalf. This is also why I think some were so happy and desperate to see he moved on with nadia because he was no longer this love sick 'baby' they were hurt and 'worried' for. I think a section of his fans can be so weird with how they project their wants and idea of him onto him even when it comes down to people finding him attractive or how they lash out at people who say he isnt a great actor or want win certain awards. They hated that (to them) he came across and was a love sick puppy and wanted him to be the one to win the breakup. Like how they desperately want him to win as emmy or cut his hair cause they can't stand locals calling him ugly. Idk if im explaining it well sorry but its just like theyre obsessed with how others see him and they want him to be happy but weirdly not necessarily for his sake but for their image of him. Like to this day I swear there are are still so many tom stans who gush about tomdaya and pretend to support z but I KNOW they're still salty towards zendaya. And this isnt to kick off a fandom war cause I think a portion of her fandom is has a really weird hostility towards tom and I will never forget how quickly they switched up on tom and how nasty they were to him when she got with JE (and i know there's a large part also waiting for her to drop him for someone they see as worthy or tall*cough cough*) but in regards to the whole tom hoe phase being praised I think a huge part was down to people painting tom as the heartbroken party. Like obviously its more complicated than that and that alone stunk of misogyny and obviously lot of racism but the consistent thing i kept seeing from day 1 and still is tom was this sobbing heartbroken poor baby boy who must be protected! While zendaya forgot his existence and was painting the town red with jacob

Thanks! That was well said, and I agree with it as a description of a narrative that’s developed and that’s shot through with misogyny from multiple angles: Zendaya on the pedestal, Zendaya as duplicitous as we tend to see woman, Tom as less ‘masculine’ bc of his size, Tom as infantalized as we tend to see men…

Idk if im explaining it well sorry but its just like theyre obsessed with how others see him and they want him to be happy but weirdly not necessarily for his sake but for their image of him.

That’s it in a nutshell, huh?

(No need to apologize for your writing, so stop doing that❤️)