#i made peace with failing my term papers

[tardis--dreams]

Moved on to working with actual data instead of just literature review. Sucks

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello, I'd like to request for fuegoleon, William, nozel, zora and Nacht where they hurt their s/O's feelings and make her cry? And just how guilty they feel, how they make it up, comfort their s/o and apologize. You can choose whatever they couldve said or done to make her cry I love anything you write they're all so good

If 5 characters is too much then just fuego, nozel and nacht would be fine please and thankyou❤️

Hello! Some hurt comfort is on the menu it seems, and I'm happy to oblige ^^ This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Zora x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader

Fanfic type: Headcanons

Genre: Hurt-comfort

Length: about 0.75k each, 3.9k total

Warnings: Generally hurt-comfort, the guys snap at reader, all for reasons of their own, in Nozel's scenario the reader doesn't really know what kind of a person Nozel's dad is, Zora addresses reader as "babydoll", Zora calls himself as a "jerk ass", reader cries and the guys try to comfort in their own ways

Fuegoleon

He had had very taxing couple of months. The adverse the country was facing seemed to have no end in sight, and it felt that in terms of politics and finances the country was being pushed further and further into a corner, which took an immense toll on him emotionally.

And though a part of him wished that he could simply take a vacation and not worry about any of it, he knew it to be senseless. Quite simply because the same issues would wait him as he returned, and they would have further piled up, so taking a vacation would be counterproductive. But still he felt that his nerves were hanging by a thin thread, even if he considered himself as a patient man.

As he sat by his desk, you came through the door with a paper in hand.

“I made us a reservation to a restaurant,” you told him. “I thought we could take a nice evening off, have a date and just enjoy life,” you smiled, while presenting the reservation information to him.

“No thank you,” he said without looking up from the documents in front of him.

“But you need to have some time off as well,” you insisted while placing your hand onto his arm and tugging him slightly. “So I planned us a day where we can just do something w-“

“I can’t take a day off!” He snapped. “Surely a moment of peace and quiet would be pleasant, but there is too much to take care of for me to quite simply ‘take a day off’,” he continued.

And you… lifted your hand off of his arm, and took a step back.

You had intended to do something nice for him, because you had seen how strained he was and now he… wasn’t… feeling the sentiment. A part of you wanted to blame yourself because you had failed to read him and what he’d wish correctly, because wasn’t a spouse supposed to be able to do that?

There were a lot of emotions swirling around in you, but none of them were pleasant. And with it, tears begun climbing to your eyes with a burning sensation, only to roll down your cheeks.

Fuegoleon looked at you, and there was a gnawing, pricking ocean of guilt in his chest, because he knew that you had meant well. You had wanted to do something nice for him and make the situation at least a little bit more bearable.

“My love I’m…” he reached forward for you. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but … I…” his gaze fell to the side as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words, spoken carelessly.

You didn’t shy away from him as he tried to get close to you again, because it wasn’t… that you didn’t understand him, and you could see the sincere apology and regret in his eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll try to take the day off…” he promised with something that sounded almost like a sigh, but really it was because he knew what it’d mean.

And you knew what it’d mean too. It’d mean sleepless nights, having less time during the next week or two for you two to spend together regularly, in place of that one day. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d rather see him a little each day than not at all.

“No,” you shook your head with a faint tone while mirroring his movements and reaching for him. “We can… just have a moment, a short moment, in the evening to ourselves,” you said through your drying tears.

His eyes gathered that gentle undertone that was too beautiful for this world, as he placed his hand onto your cheek and brushed away your tears. “If that is what you wish,” he said with gratitude in his voice before he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

You nodded as a reply, even if only faintly.

“I am sorry, my beloved,” he still repeated. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t wish to impose any-“

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I get it. There’s a lot on your plate and I should have talked about your schedule with you before making reservations…”

“But your heart was in the right place,” he told you while placing his hand under your chin. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you,” he admitted while lifting your chin, and placing another kiss onto your lips, warm, gentle and caressing, which washed away any shadow of doubt of his sentiments that might have been there.

William

The days had grown long, because of everything that was going on in the kingdom. And with the disappearance of Julius, it had gotten him thinking about what had happened after the whole ordeal with the elves. Which had made… something about the whole state of the kingdom hit too close to home with him.

Perhaps he was questioning being pardoned altogether, since it seemed that the one to pardon him, had taken a run for it. Or perhaps something more dire.

But if the only person to be willing to pardon him was someone like him, willing to look the other way when the kingdom was falling to its knees then…

It filled him with various emotions, all swirling and twisting and turning until he felt all of them trying to bubble to the surface, but he didn’t know which to let out first. How to let them out. Instead it felt like they were all stuck in his throat, just building, building, building up pressure so much that he might-

“Hey honey!” You greeted while entering through the door of his office, only to see him hunching over his own desk. “Oh did you eat something bad, or-“ you placed your hand onto his shoulder.

But he pushed it away. “Don’t touch me!” He ordered without as much as looking at you. And from his tone, you heard nothing but pain, hurt, and… you could have sworn… disgust… underlying it all… You could have sworn there to be contempt… in there…

You took a step back, pulling your hand to you and holding it with the other. As you couldn’t… imagine why… why would he have… Your sweet William…

His chest was heaving, and as his eyes lifted from the desk to you, the most prominent feelings you could se were fear and pain. The way they flickered, his purple eyes that were so gentle, flickered around as tears lined the corners of his eyes.

“Forgive me…” he whispered as his eyes turned to the side. “I didn’t… I just… Why did he pardon me? Some… solidarity from a villain to another?” His head swayed from side to side, as if trying to comprehend, but failed to do so.

“You’re… not a villain, Will…” you tried, because his reaction had… made sense. It wasn’t you he was trying to shoo away, it was his own emotions, but you sounded anything but convinced. Tears climbed to your own eyes.

You buried your face into your hands, and wept, from the shock of what had happened, his words, but also because you had understood where it came from. Because he was pained from the guilt of his past actions, and you felt his pain too.

He turned to look at you again, as he heard your sobs, and got up from the chair to make his way to you from the other side of the desk.

“I’m sorry… so, so sorry my little song bird…” he wrapped his arms around you, and pressed his head against yours, as his tears rolled down his cheeks, and onto you. “I’ll… make it up to you…” he pleaded. “Just don’t… please don’t… hate me, I… didn’t… wasn’t… I didn’t mean to….” His voice was faint, broken and defeated, and he swayed in place with you in his arms.

It sounded like he was repenting. Praying for forgiveness.

“I don’t hate you… Will,” you told him while wrapping your own arms around him. He was a broken man, and he had acted out of distress. Without intent to hurt you. Without intent to push you away.

He pressed a kiss onto your head as his embrace grew tighter. “I’m sorry,” he still whispered.

You nudged his head with yours, and whispered against his skin “we’ll make it through.”

Because you would. The two of you would. He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a villain. It was simply that the guilt he felt got overbearing sometimes, which had caused him to call out in fear of what he thought about himself.

But he loved you, and you loved him. So, you could heal, together. You were certain about it, as you stood there, holding onto each other.

Nozel

Nozel had learned to deal with his family situation from a young age. Though ‘dealing with it’ had turned into something that seemed more like survival. Not that you could see it from the surface. Because, while looking from afar, without seeing into his eyes, his emotions, he was a calm sea. Vast and serene. Though something, someone to be revered and respected, because there was also harshness in the oceans.

But if you had the opportunity to peek under the surface, you’d see a twisting, turning vortex of guilt, pain, sorrow… fear… A lot of emotions one might deem ugly.

‘Unsightly’ he would describe them in himself. Because he couldn’t be any of those things. The Captain of the Silver Eagles, the First Born Son of the Royal House of Silva, couldn’t be any of those things. And thus… to him, in him, they were unsightly.

He didn’t talk about his childhood either. He didn’t talk about his parents, aside of his mother. Which, given the circumstances of her parting, made sense. He would talk about her more because of the fate she had faced.

You had been thinking about starting a family with him. You had talked about it in passing. And as you sat in the living room, him staring out of the window, deep in thought. You talked about how lovely it’d be. “I’m sure you’d be a great father,” you thought out loud, meaning just it, and nothing else. “Just like yours.”

His head begun to turn to you with a slow motion, as if mechanic, and his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t even a glare, but a mad stare.

“I will never be like that bastard!” He shouted, making you press against your seat out of the sheer force in which the words were pushed, spat out of his mouth.

His body started to shake, and the stare turned into a look of horror as his eyes fell down to the floor. Because…. Because… though his father had been horrid, spewed poisonous words in a whole different way than shouting… maybe you had been right and… he was on his way becoming just like his father. Which was among the last things he’d want.

But you… you didn’t quite understand where it had come from. Sure, he hadn’t talked about his father, but you hadn’t thought that there’d be this level of hatred and contempt for him from Nozel. Though you had gathered that Older Lord Silva wasn’t a well liked man, but… surely he… would have been… kinder to his… own children, right?

Right…?

There were a lot of emotions turning within you. Partly from the force of Nozel’s words, and partly from guilt of having failed to see through his silence. Through the things he didn’t want to talk about, and… as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and buried your face into your hands, you cried. You cried and you cried and you… didn’t know what to do. What to say?

You felt a weight right next to you on the couch, as a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Nozel I…” you tried while pushing against his chest with a faint motion.

“Don’t…” he started as his hold of you grew more firm. “Look at me…” he continued as his voice broke, and something… as if a droplet, landed onto your shoulder.

The words sounded like a plea. Plea filled with shame and the broken pieces of his soul that he wasn’t eager to show you.

But you did as he wished, and settled into his embrace.

“I’m… sorry, my dear,” he whispered with that same broken tone while placing his hand to the back of your head. “I’ll… be better, than him. I will…” you couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell that to you or to himself.

But whatever his father must’ve been like in reality, you could already tell that Nozel was far better of a man than his father had ever been. He was. Because the man who held you in the soft, gentle, secure embrace felt so very deeply about you and the ones close to him.

He really was like an ocean of secrets.

“I love you,” he professed through another whisper, but while the tone was silent, the proclamation was loud as ever. “I love you…” he repeated, just to make sure that you heard him.

And as you buried your face into his shoulder, and the scent of his haircare products flowed to you, it was as if your tears had disappeared into thin air.

Nozel might not have been the best with words, but he was there, when you needed him the most.

Zora

Zora had had to raise himself for a good portion of his childhood. Though Zara had given him good tools to life, and a lot of wonderful memories, it didn’t mean that Zora wouldn’t have had to toughen up.

His accomplishments, his skills and tenacity were all a result of him having a keen eye for details, while also having had to, quite bluntly, tell himself to do better. Pay attention to his own shortcomings and fix the issue.

But… it had also resulted in him being blunt with others. Though it was all for the sake of betterment, for growth and development of skills, the way he delivered the words were harsh more often than not. Which was something he was trying to fix, when it came to some people, at least.

You knew that he was like that. And you knew that he wasn’t the type of a guy to just sit around and expect you to do all the housework, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t like cooking from time to time. Actually, maybe it was the idea that you didn’t need to cook, because he’d be more than alright with cooking if you asked him to, but rather that you could.

But today the dish wasn’t… cutting it. You had tried to taste it many times and there was something in the seasoning that wasn’t just… doing it for you. But you couldn’t really place your finger on what was wrong with it. Or not… wrong wrong per se, but it certainly could be better.

You leaned against the stove, and sighed to yourself, as the gears in your head tried to turn. But came up empty.

A drawer was opened, and closed. There was a sound of metal clicking against metal and steps coming closer, accompanied by a hum from a certain, masked, someone.

Zora dipped his spoon into the food and took a bite to test the taste. And after he had, he sighed, sounding disappointed before making his way to the spice cabinet and laying thme out onto the table.

“The balance is all wrong,” he said. “It’s mainly salty while you want there to be some sweetness to it for the contrast as well. A bit of acid would do wonders, but the real issue is that the spices aren’t complimenting each other,” he explained while taking the spoon and adding one spice after another along with other ingredients.

And you… took a step back and let him do it. Because if it was ‘all wrong’, why should you have interjected?

In all honesty, it made you feel unappreciated. Like you couldn’t even cook right. If I can’t even cook right, then why is he with me….? You found yourself thinking.

Before you knew it, your eyes had turned to the floor and you were grinding your molars together as tears started climbing to your eyes. And eventually, they ran down your cheeks as you were still immersed into your own thoughts, in how you didn’t think that you could do a simple task correct. Because surely Zora wanted someone by his side who could contribute as much as he did. Surely. So why was he-

“Hey babydoll?”

You looked up, and saw him standing there, having placed his hand onto your shoulder.

His eyes were deep, calm blue. Clear and yet deep blue. And there was worry in them. That was when you realized that you were crying and looked away while wrapping your arms around yourself.

He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the tone,” he said. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and… I’m happy to eat whatever you make,” he tried but the consolation fell short, given how he had started cooking in your place.

You curled around yourself a bit more, without really meaning to, but you did. In any case.

“Come here,” he said while pulling you into an embrace.

Seconds ticked away for a while as he just held you, and the dinner was slowly cooking on the stove.

“If you want me to stay out of it, you need to just tell me, y’know? I know that I can be too harsh, and… And… I try to not be.”

He was trying to help you get better. But he could be a wee bit of a jerk about it at times.

“We both know I can be a real ass jerk,” he said with a hint of amusement, trying to make you laugh.

And it worked. “But you’re my jerk,” you replied with a hint of a giggle in your tone.

“That I am,” he replied. “And I hope you never need to get sick of me,” he continued while pulling away just enough to wipe your tears away.

You gave him a small smile as a reply to his careful one, and went back to cooking, together.

Nacht

Nacht had been a loner for most of his life. Someone who travelled down his own path without caring what everyone else thought. And it had made him someone who spoke directly about anything and everything he deemed to be topical to say.

Though he could also be harsh. Granted that he was the harshest to himself, but still. His directness could be harsh, and you both knew it.

He tried not to be, to you. He tried to treat you with the kindness that you deserved. He tried to treat you with the respect that you ought to be treated with. But sometimes, he failed.

Though watching him scold the Bulls for their shenanigans yet again, you didn’t think that he was trying all that hard to be constructive. Maybe he just wanted them to be efficient during missions, because that would drive the squad forward the best. ‘Not to be wasteful of energy’, or something like that.

“You could try going easier on them,” you told him later on when it was just the two of you. “Be kinder.”

“Kindness is a weakness,” he scoffed. “And Yami has let them slack off enough already which will get them killed. Only a fool would go easy on them.”

You stopped, thinking about what he had just said. Because you were going easy with the rest of the Bulls. You were kind to them. And Nacht. So… so.

You couldn’t help but think that Nacht had, there and then, revealed what he really thought of you. Though it wasn’t directed at you, he had been, still, indirectly talking about you too. Basically he had called you weak and stupid.

Basically.

Which made your eyes turn to the ground as you bit down your molars and tried to will away the tears that were climbing to your eyes. Because you shouldn’t have taken such an off-hand comment that wasn’t even said to you, to the heart in such a way but… But. It had struck a nerve in you.

“Hm? What is it?” He asked, having stopped and turned around to look at you, as if he hadn’t realized what he had said.

“So you think that I’m dumb and weak?” You asked with bitterness lacing your tone as the tears finally glazed over your eyes, but didn’t roll down quite yet.

“That isn’t what I said,” he argued, now facing you fully and taking a few steps closer to you.

“But I am letting them off easier and I am being kind to them. So. If being kind and letting them have a breather is-“

“You’re not responsible for them.”

“Neither are you!” Now tears ran, but you didn’t look at him.

You didn’t look, and he said nothing.

Surely, he could have argued that as a vice captain he was more or less responsible, but not to the same extent as Yami. And at the end of the day, all the Bulls were responsible for themselves. So, he didn’t need to care about what they did with their time. Really.

“You are not weak and stupid,” he said while taking you by the hand. “Quite the contrary,” he admitted. “And I shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.”

He sounded like he was speaking out a ready made dialogue of a noble man that he used to be. But you supposed that he hadn’t needed to comfort anyone lately either. If ever. If he had ever needed to comfort anyone. Even himself, since he had denied such a thing from himself.

But he could see how the ready made dialogue wasn’t doing it. The words might have been there, but the sentiment wasn’t.

“Darling?” He whispered, while moving again a little bit closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he said while summoning his shadows and tugging you, as if to ask to come along with him. To which you nodded, and he transported you both to your bedroom.

As you stood there, in the sanctity of the room with the door closed, he finally wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You are not weak. Or stupid,” he repeated. This time the tone was one that sounded genuine, caring, insisting. “I’m sorry for insinuating it.”

You nodded and returned the embrace.

“It’s simply that… not being prepared can get people killed…” there was a reason, in there, why he would remind you of such a thing.

“But people need to live too.” And there was no arguing over it. Because life was meant to be lived.

Not even he could deny it. “They do…” he admitted while holding you closer in his arms.

And it was in that embrace that you could feel his heartbeat, his remorse and regret. But most importantly, you could feel how he did love you. Because he did. With his entire heart and soul.

[scozthewoz]

mercs as cat breeds + kitty merc headcanons

inspired by/in collaboration with @joonliebe (i changed a few of them sorry pookie 💔)

kitty headcanons are from my cat fortress AU where all the mercs are cats that are foster fails because nobody wants those motherfuckers and now miss pauling is stuck with them all

spy ▪︎ persian - fancy and high maintenance. the signature bond villain cat

likes to be alone. needs to be taken to the groomer once a week or he gets pissed off and starts tearing up the couch. he has a very strict schedule and if his terms are not followed he throws a tantrum. he also sneaks out of the house and dissapears frequently. a dick to the rest of the cats, except scout for some reason.

heavy ▪︎ siberian - big boys with big coats, comes from siberia

the most well behaved cat there. scarred up and scary looking from his time in the pound, but he's suprisingly very quiet and peaceful. naturally chunky and big boned. miss pauling's favorite. he's a bonded pair with medic, they can normally be found grooming each other. he tends to wrangle scout when he's being too much, he doesn't like to see miss pauling stressed.

pyro ▪︎ sphynx - just a weird lookin thing. also an affectionate and energetic breed that likes to wreak havoc

peculiar little intersex kitty covered in burns, owners died in a house fire (that she may or may not have caused). both eyes are gone, but she navigates just fine. knows how to turn the stove on and has set multiple small fires. miss pauling puts him in cute little sweaters since he doesn't have any fur to keep him warm.

sniper ▪︎ savannah - hybrid of a house cat and a wild serval

very solitary, like spy, but not hostile to the others. owners were an old couple that died and it shook up the already shy cat. miss pauling doesn't need to feed him like the others since he sneaks out and hunts his own meals. almost completely silent unless he's sitting at the window and chirping at birds. evident dislike for spy. quiet and low maintenence so not a huge headache, but he tracks mud in the house. he's very skittish too, runs off or hides whenever there's company.

medic ▪︎ turkish angora - graceful. very majestic. cunty, even

on paper, he seems like a very good cat! he's an ex-service animal that still carries out some service tasks, like deep pressure therapy when miss pauling is getting anxious or retrieving stuff. only problem is that he loves bringing dead things inside, and he goes out of his way to rip it to shreds and get blood and guts ALL over the house. he also has a temper issue, and he needs little kitty glasses because his eyesight is shit.

engineer ▪︎ munchkin - haha short legs!! oh yeah, and they're pretty smart

used to be a workshop cat around for pest control, lost a leg in an accident. workshop guys gave him a kitty sized hardhat he gets very upset without. he's got a hard time jumping up on stuff since he not only has short legs, but he's got a prosthetic one too, so miss pauling made him a few kitty staircases up to his favorite spots. he likes stealing tools from neighbors and and scrap metal from outside and stashes them under the couch.

demoman ▪︎ scottish fold - scottish, prone to eye problems

missing an eye and has some singed fur from teens with fireworks. little kitty eyepatch. he frequently gets into the bailey's irish cream miss pauling keeps on top of the fridge and has to be brought to the vet for liver issues at least once a month.

soldier ▪︎ ragdoll - developed in america !!🇺🇸 tend to rough house when playing and are very vocal

used to belong to a war veteran, then became a stray after he died. clipped ear. his body's kept shaved because of scarring and matting issues, so he's got furry boots and a puffball tail, but the fur on his noggin covers his eyes. he frequently bothers the others. a big sweetheart for miss pauling, but agressive with anyone else. likes fetch. dog in a cat body.

scout ▪︎ siamese - the extroverts of the cat world, very energetic and chatty, also very clever.

his ma and brothers are all siamese, but he's got an oddly fluffy tail like a persian.. he's a big fan of miss pauling, never leaves her alone. gets pissy and scratches the curtains or breaks a glass when she's giving one of the other cats too much attention. wayyy too clingly and always causing some sort of trouble or getting into places he shouldn't. he also meows CONSTANTLY.

[wonderbias]

I'm sorry (not really) that I keep going over the legal issues in hotd, but it's stronger than me. The problem over the inheritance, over the Iron Throne, between Rhaenyra and Aegon comes way before their birth. It starts with the Great Council.

Jahaerys made a fucking great mistake by asking the Lords "which one should be my heir?". He gave them power and made them realize that, without dragons, House Targaryen was the shittiest one. So they chose the weaker heir, of course. And Viserys, being the idiot that he was, felt indebted towards the Lords. (Remind you, "peaceful" is just a synonym of "Don't bother")

Now, after Aemma's murder, Viserys was between his brother or his daughter. We all know the history: Daemon is a menace, let's be radical and name a woman as heir! And let's also do a ceremony where everyone swears fealty to the new heir! Great! Wait, did anyone keep a record of that? Is there a paper signed? I mean, words are carried by the wind...

When the King has a son, he doesn't announce a change in the succession line, and that is where Viserys has the whole fault: he wanted to be in good terms with God and the Devil. He knew that the Lords wanted his son as heir (he himself had set the precedent), but, despite having all the power, he didn't have the "heart" to displace his eldest child as heir. He Pontius Pilato'ed the matter and died without a resolution.

Now, the Realm is in chaos. Who's the true heir? Well, the Lords say that they swore an oath to Rhaenyra. But! But! There's the Great Council precedent, Salic Law, but they don't hold the power to establish a new monarch. They can't act since there's no Council. We need the word of the king. And who's better than the Queen to come with the word of the king and say, "My son is the heir"?

(Remember Borros Baratheon, his tongue was quicker than his mind. "The House of the Dragon does not know who is its true ruler." He sells himself and his house to the one with more chances of winning, and he already knows that his fellow lords will not support Rhaenyra.)

The problem is that, despite being Valyrian and having other customs and laws, the Targaryen failed as conquerors because they never imposed their beliefs. If they had blended their laws and Westeros' common law, in a sort of ius gentium way, they would have had true power over the Lords and wouldn't have faced this issue.

Jahaerys wouldn't have needed to call a Great Council settling a precedent, and the Lords wouldn't have an excuse to impose the Salic Law.

[risuola]

III — THE UCHIHA KID // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

The babyboy that asked you for help turned out to be a member of the Uchiha clan and it's safe to say that he was terrified to face your husband. You, on the other hand, were more than willing to help him.

contents: none, just fluff — 3k words

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

A boy, whose name was Kagami Uchiha, was a six years old orphaned baby of the clan that your husband fruitlessly warned you about many times. It was against your nature to prejudice but you understood his point of view, after reading every document regarding the history of founding Konoha and the warring period. The baby was instructed by the clan members to head to Tobirama, as he was responsible for housing issues in the village, as well as the orphanage. Unfortunately, it was stated strictly that every move or change in the location had to go through the office, because it was needed to be noted. That made it easier to keep the order or act if someone was in danger.

After you knocked, you peaked inside the office, seeing your husband at the desk, reading something.

“What is it?” he asked, not even lifting his head, consumed by the document.

“Sorry to bother you, my dear,” you spoke, drawing his attention to you and as he looked up, his features twisted just slightly in surprise. Last thing he was expecting was to see you with a child in your arms. “If you need to finish reading, I’ll wait outside.”

“No, come in and give me a minute.”

Giving it a nod, you closed the door behind you as he got back to the paper he was analyzing. Approaching the large, full-wall-sized window you showed the view to the boy, admiring the enlarged eyes he made, seeing the whole village and woods around it from here. But even if he was stunned, his little body couldn’t stop shaking and it broke your heart. You gave him a peck to the cheek, whispering that he’s safe here in hope that no more tears will be spilled but you suspected otherwise.

“Alright, you can sit down, I’m done,” Tobirama informed and you went to take a seat in front of his desk, when he got up, circling it and leaning against the top, intentionally placing his hands down on his sides not to scare the child further with his guarded form.

“Would you mind if I present your case?” you asked the boy and he nodded, hiding his little face in your neck. Smoothing his back, you looked up to your husband. “This little gentleman has lost both of his parents and is in need for a place to live. He asked me for help, afraid to come here alone.”

“Is that the Uchiha kid?” Tobirama asked, hinting that he knows something about the situation already.

“Kagami Uchiha, yes.”

“Earlier today I received a notice informing that his parents were assigned for a mission that failed,” he looked back at the scrolls he was reviewing earlier that day, trying to bring some details to his mind and an exhale assisted him coming to terms with the not-so-pleasant part of his work. So many years he wanted to achieve nothing else than peace where children wouldn’t have to suffer the war and yet, still conflicts result in sorrow. “Well, I will contact Uchihas to find a family for him, but I’m afraid it will take few days. Probably weeks. Up until this time, he’ll go to the orpha-“

“Would it be possible that you let me handle this issue and take care of this boy for the time we get an answer? I can pay a visit to Madara, it would be much quicker.”

Tobirama stayed silent for few moments, searching for a solution to the matter, just like he always does and you gave him the time to answer while smoothing Kagami’s back. Sensing the lack of wrath from your husband, he slowly began relaxing in your embrace, soon falling asleep on your shoulder, exhausted by everything that happened to him lately. You couldn’t imagine how distressed was that boy by losing both of his parents, losing his home and being forced to face a man that he was convinced hates him. During your previous talk, he even hinted that he’s afraid that Tobirama will kill him if he goes there alone.

“It might be slightly more efficient if you go to Madara yourself, since he has a soft spot for you,” your man spoke finally, crossing his arms over his chest, like he usually does when thinking about something. “Please, elaborate on taking care of him yourself?”

“Our home has more than enough space for this little one to spend few days in, without stressing him with the orphanage. If you’d agree, I promise I’ll take care of him so he won’t interrupt your routine.”

It was a lot to ask him, you were well aware of that but you were determined to help this baby out. Tobirama was mostly out of the house anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem to have a 5-year-old that would probably be sleeping all the time he’s back. The very thought of weighing this poor little soul with another burden such as orphanage was making your heart clench.

“Such a kind heart you have,” the man exhaled deeply, looking at the child that was sleeping cuddled to your body, feeling safe enough to allow himself to lose consciousness. “Always so keen to help the village.”

“Konoha is also my home now,” you smiled, “and this child did nothing wrong, he’s just six.”

“My schedule is full for the next days so I won’t be able to help you. Can you handle the issue alone?”

“I’m positive. I took care of many children in Yu, they always seem to like me,” you glanced at the boy, your face now stained with a soft smile. “And I’m sure that I can find a loving family to this baby by talking with people myself faster than the documents could.”

“So let be it,” Tobirama straightened up and you got up as well, happy to hear his response. “I should manage to prepare the documents by tomorrow, so they will be ready when you’re done with your search. Up until now, please make sure to provide what’s needed for this boy.”

“Yes, my Lord,” you smiled, giving him a kiss to the corner of his lips, before saying goodbye and leaving.

Tobirama stayed in place for a moment longer, his mind replaying the words you used to address him. It wasn’t out of ordinary for people to call him lord, he was hokage’s brother and arguably one of the most, if not the most important person in the village but you were the only one, who called him your Lord. He loved hearing those words, it made him feel like he was indeed yours and being yours came with pride to Tobirama. From the beginning he was focused on you staying by his side, and now, knowing how loving and pure-hearted you are, he was overjoyed to call himself yours. Your Lord, your husband, your dear. Everything you addressed him with made his heart flutter. You were really an angel sent from above and with that thought, he got back to work.

The night you spent sleeping in the guest room, next to the little boy that was too frightened to sleep alone in the foreign place, but relaxed immediately, feeling your body’s warmth next to him. To know you were a safe space for him, that he was able to find peace and security in you made your heart swell with joy.

The night you stayed alerted, sleeping lightly in order to notice if Kagami was having a calm dream and as the morning struck its light onto your face and you heard your husband getting ready to leave, you raised a little on your elbow. As if Tobirama sensed you’re awake, he peaked into the guest room, quietly approaching your side of the bed and motioning you to not leave the bed.

“Don’t get up, it’s alright,” he told you, taking a mental picture of how tenderly you kept the little boy to yourself. From the moment he’d seen you in his office the day before, he knew he won’t get the peace of mind now, his thoughts constantly circling around the depiction of you caring for your own child. Tobirama was never too keen on having his own spouse, hoping the bloodline will be passed down by Hashirama, but he couldn’t deny the image was tempting.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” you whispered. “I’ll bring you bento to your office.”

“Don’t worry about it. Was the night peaceful?”

“It was, yes”, you gave it a little nod, whilst Tobirama glanced at you two once again.

“I have to go now. You know where to find me.”

“Have a nice day.”

With a soft kiss planted on your temple, he was soon gone.

“He’s not that bad,” Kagami muttered against your chest and you smiled, smoothing his hair.

“Of course, he’s not,” you cooed quietly. “He may look scary, but has a good heart.”

Two weeks it took you to finalize the issue with Kagami and you couldn’t be happier with the outcome. The family you found with the help of Madara was a couple that couldn’t have their own children but dreamt of one. With tears they agreed to open their hearts to the young boy, thanking you, their ancestors and even gods for the gift and it thrilled you to know that he’s safe and sound now, with good people. The two were shinobi, with father that’s mid-ranked officer of Uchiha forces and a mother that’s skilled in ninjutsu, and you believed they can raise Kagami to be a powerful ninja in the future, that got to know parental love.

Collecting all of the documents and sharing few more moments with the boy, you promised him that he’s welcome to your home always and offered your help if he or his family needed anything. It broke your heart just a little to give him away, as you’ve become quite attached to him, but it was better for Kagami to grow among Uchihas, learn about their techniques and sharingan – things that you couldn’t teach him, especially when during the time you learned that a powerful ocular jutsu is coded in his blood line. You hoped that being raised with the clan will allow Kagami to grow into his full potential.

“Thank you, Madara,” you bowed slightly to the clan leader, when you were about to leave their district. “I think the family will cherish the future.”

“I think so too,” he responded. “I have to admit, it’s bold of you to involve in Uchiha matters, being a wife to Tobirama. You have my respect.”

“The child has nothing to do with the eternal conflict between your clan and the Senju. And I’m neither of those,” chuckling, you secured the scrolls into the pouch on your waist. “But I’m glad Kagami found a loving home, because if that wouldn’t be the case, I’d insist on raising him myself and that would make things a little complicated.”

“I imagine. You have a kind heart, I hope this world won’t corrupt it too quickly,” Madara lowered his head just slightly, in respect towards you. “If that’s all, I’ll return to my duties.”

“Of course. Thank you once again. I’ll leave now too.”

Exchanging quick goodbyes, you got back home to prepare food for your husband and while the rice was cooking, you tidied up a little. It was inevitable that a little bit of mess will set inside, as the child was staying there but it was nothing severe. Already missing Kagami, you sighed. The kid was just too adorable not to grow attached. He was just the right balance between quiet and loud, he loved to be hugged and often fell asleep while being in your embrace. With his little kisses on the cheek, you felt your heart flutter and grow, and even your husband, whom you wouldn’t call the best with children, liked the little Uchiha, although he would never admit it out loud. You noticed he was softer towards him; he even took the boy on his lap while in the office which was one of the most adorable moments you’ve witnessed, probably in your life. You were convinced he would agree if you asked to keep the baby, but that would be selfish of you. It truly was the best for him to be raised by Uchihas and just because you gave him to the new family didn’t mean you won’t ever see him again. You were informed to be welcome in their house whenever you feel like it and you also proclaimed yourself as the official aunt.

With the bento filled and packed, you locked the door and took a walk to the hokage office, where your husband also had his place but, in his workplace, you didn’t find him. Taking the liberty of entering without permission you approached his desk and placed the food and the scroll there, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen you sat down on his chair to write a note.

“Comfortable?” deep, familiar voice reached your ears when the doors opened and your husband entered his office. You looked up, watching him as he went across the room and before you reacted, he already pulled you away from the desk, grabbed your body like it weighted nothing and sat down, situating you on top of his thighs.

“Now I am,” you joked, kissing his cheek. “Good morning, my dear.”

“Good morning,” he took the letter you were writing and glanced over the text before putting it to one of his drawers. “How’s Kagami?”

“Safe in his new home. I already know he’ll be spoiled; they were on cloud nine taking him in. Madara was cooperative as well. I’d say everything went well,” you briefed, smoothing over the back of his neck. “All details and documents are inside those scrolls I brought you. I made sure to fill them to your standards.”

“I’m sure you did,” he chuckled. “Thank you for lunch.”

A smile bloomed on your face. “You’re welcome, my love.”

Love. That was the first time he heard this one specific word coming from your mouth and he wondered for a second if he misheard you, because surely, he had to. Love was a strong word, even though it wasn’t a confession, it still held one heavy emotional impact and Tobirama was convinced that love wasn’t what’s between you two. He loves you, yes. How could he not if you’re such a good person? A great shinobi that was ready to die for the village that wasn’t even your own, a golden heart keen to help everyone, a woman beautiful inside and outside. A perfect human being that he had the luck to marry through the political arrangement. But you had not that much reason to fall for him. You were patient and kind to him, just as you were to everybody else. You touched him, but you told him before marriage that it's your way of showing affection. You got up every day so early only to wish him a great day and make sure he has something to eat, even though you could sleep for a little longer before starting your day. Could that be out of love and not out of wife’s duty?

“I have one more meeting today and it’s possible I’ll be free a little earlier today,” he said finally, breaking out of his own spiral of overthinking, “would you want to join me for a walk this evening?”

“I would absolutely love to,” smiling, you leaned your head over his shoulder, inhaling his scent gently pulling down his collar so you could press your lips against his skin. “I shouldn’t take your time while you’re at work, should I?”

“I have few more minutes before I need to leave for a meeting and I’ll gladly give those to you.”

“In that case, I’ll gladly accept them.”

It didn’t take long for Tobirama’s lips to find yours, locking them in a kiss filled with longing. He himself was surprised of how much his body yearned for the closeness of yours, after two weeks of very limited contact due to a child in your home that consumed all of your attention. You’ve got him so used to your affections that he found himself unable to exist correctly without them. What have you done to him? All of his life, Tobirama believed that emotional attachment was a barrier; that it’s something he cannot afford in order to stay strong and reliable, but you proved him wrong. You proved that not only he needs feelings in his life but also, they make him stronger than he was before. You made him stronger; you made him a better leader; you showed him that softness isn’t synonymous to weakness and the young Senju liked who he’d become with you by his side.

You could feel how hungry your man was, how starved of affection he had become in just those few days and it thrilled you, excitement coursing through your veins as you run your fingers through his silver hair. At the beginning, although agreeing to your touches, he wasn’t keen to reciprocate your gestures. He had to learn how to be physical with you, because before that only contact that involved two bodies was confined to battle. But Tobirama being a smart man, learned quickly that it’s not unusual for couples to share touches, to kiss, to sleep together. He learned that intimacy is first and foremost for pleasure, not only to reproduce. All of it made you happy. It meant he had opened to you, dropped down his guard and let you into his world that before you was strictly restricted to laws and orders.

 Biting on his lower lip you smiled, letting your hand brush the nape of his neck. Taking in his little gasp, you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his and smoothing the light skin of his cheek, avoiding the red dashes he painted on his face every morning.

“What have you done to me?” he whispered, calming his breath.

“You’re welcome,” kissing him once more, you got up from his legs. “When should I expect you?”

“I’ll wrap things up around 8PM.”

“So, I’ll pick you up at 8. We’re set. Now, focus on the meeting and don’t forget to eat, alright?”

“Alright.”

[nightwonder7]

the thought of a Ghost AU hug pile after Alice finally opens up to them and starts coming to with her own hard past with their help has me in shambles ;u;

another note though...how would the double identities work? would it be kind of like the ghosts can change forms or one personality takes over the other? Two separate ghosts who need to do different things before being put to rest?

and another question(s) that popped into my mind while writing this was: What is the requirement for releasing a ghost? What if said thing is really hard to do, like burning something precious? Or what if the first time it happens by accident and Alice & ghost Co don't even get to really say goodbye? 😭

HHHHHHHhhhHHHhhhh that is so wholesome! ;O; I can see the ghosts starting to notice that she becomes overly diligent in her work. To the point it is concerning, for she is staying up late for many nights studying the files and becomes too upset at every set-back. It's no longer about emptying the manor of ghosts so she can have her peaceful home back.

The ghosts doing some sort of intervention and want to know why she is wearing herself down like that (over the time they had known each other, they have started to care more for each other). Alice then tells them that she feels that it is her responsibility to help them and shares some of her past. For if she fails to help them, then she breaks the promise she made to herself that she would help others no matter what. All stemming from the emotional baggage of her parents' demise. The ghosts are the first ones she openly talks about her troubled past with. Que the group hug and words of reassurance ;u; Even though they can't really touch her fdghsjfks it'll be like an air hug XD A cold one...

----

I'm glad you asked! So the hunter form of those with double identities is actually a sort of corrupted form of their spirit, facilitated by the curse. Some are more susceptible than others to the mysterious power that veils the manor, and thus their unresolved trauma manifest in peculiar ways. This comes to play especially during events of strong emotions, such as when they start remembering their trauma. In these forms the ghosts are dangerously strong and can cause actual physical harm and destruction; much more so than the ghosts who don't possess this form.

In order to quell a ghost that has been corrupted, one must try and anchor them back down to earth. They are in a state of chaos and pain, and the only way to anchor them down is to first get their attention and make them listen. Then have them focus on something and slowly pull them out of chaos little by little with words. One thing that can help here is to use an item that holds significance to the ghost; something that is associated to a good or peaceful memory. Or something sentimental. For Joker; perhaps Margaretha's music box or a daisy? For Luchino; something related to his research like his papers or specimens? For Orpheus; something related to his childhood such as the stories he used to write and the doll. For Norton; the coin he carries around. For Mike; a piece of the circus.

It is a dangerous task, but once they calm down, they are able to get out of their corrupted form. This ghosts are still able to slip back into these forms again if they don't resolve their unfinished business.

----

So the curse is multilayered, protected by each of the ghosts' personal bindings. All of them need to be broken individually before the curse can be lifted. Once that is done, all the ghosts will be released simultaneously. So fortunately, none of them will slip away spontaneously ;u; Aaaahhhh but the thought though! 😭

The key to each binding is a little different from one another. All of them need to remember how they died and the trauma that first brought them to the manor and come to terms with it. Some of them also require tending to unfinished businesses in order to get closure. It can be to find out what happened to a loved one, finishing a piece of work, or, as you said, destroy something. It is for Alice and the ghosts to figure out what needs to be done. Pff imagine in order to break Matthias' binding, Alice needs to destroy Louis, but no matter what she does to that puppet, it just comes back again in mint condition XD

[limeade-l3sbian]

What’s your opinion on radical feminists who become “blackpilled” so to speak? Who eventually loses a lot of their compassion and empathy for women who fail to help themselves? Who lose hope for a better future for women all over the world when majority of women will never be able to separate them far enough from men to make any real change forward.

I think it is perfectly natural and probably more frequent than some women will admit to lose faith and to become frustrated with the women who still prioritize their proximity to men over the progress of women as a class. I've certainly felt that way. Especially as a lesbian, the concept of prioritizing men feels completely foreign to me.

Change requires discomfort, stubbornness, and unity. And the world we face has made it much harder to be able to deal with discomfort. The short term advantages of conceding to the patriarchy has made stubbornness seem useless. And the unity of women is fractured into everyone's personal definitions of what feminism is.

And on paper, I can understand it. I only get one life and you want me to spend it being angry and fighting against this thing that's been around forever when I can just concede and live more comfortably? This is, of course, the Western thinking of feminism as there are plenty of countries where defiance and submission lead down the same path of control and abuse.

But I can't imagine giving up. I can't imagine turning inward on the women around me and calling them the real problem. I can't give my anger to women who have never known any other life than submitting to men. Who have been fed religions that teach them in their formative years that their existence, as a whole, is servitude. I can be frustrated, and yes, I can even be angry.

Compassion saves lives. It does bring change. The change we are looking for will not come in giant displays of revolution. It's little battles and persistent defiance on behalf of those women who can't. That's why fights to suppress women's rights are at an all time high. It's why men complain about not being able to find a good woman because so many "act like men." They're referring to unapologetic independence and utilizing our means of that to decide what we do with our lives.

And that's just the Western effect. What about in East Asia where the birth rates are lower? Where being a feminist is an insult and women, safely and proudly, call themselves feminists? The women in Latin America who march for abortion rights and for justice when femicides occur? The women in Africa forming spaces just for women to learn and live without the threat of child marriages and rape?

I think when you give up on women and feminism, you're giving up on those women too. How dare I, a woman in the West, proclaim that feminism is pointless and give up while women in countries that could feasibly kill them without repercussions continue to risk their lives just to say they deserve peace and rights.

I understand feeling hopeless, but you must hold onto compassion because it is what these women who cannot help themselves need. It is what they will look for when they realize the world we live in. They won't look for a fist to invite them, they'll want an open hand.

[imwall-e]

W&TWS || Doubts

Summary : He is a super-soldier of more than 100 year old, struggling to find a place in this new world. She is a young student of 23, struggling with life. But they know they can find comfort and help in each other.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings : a bit of angst and anxiety, also fluff and always Bucky being the best

A/N : I am back to writing this fanfiction. It is more a journal to me, but it feels good to write like that and to share the story of Bucky and Willow. I hope you love it !

Series Masterlist

May 10th 2021

The exams had started the week of her birthday. Willow had barely revised, but was still doing her best to answer the questions and write good essays. She had a feeling, however, that it wouldn't be enough, but she was at peace with that. After all, this degree no longer suited her. All she had to do was make a decision: try her luck at the catch-up exams (because yes, she would definitely have to go), or give up altogether.

Strangely enough, her reflections led her to William. They had only been dating a few months, and she had taken just as long to get over what he had done to her. The wound still hadn't completely healed. A new question came to mind: was it a good idea to start a relationship with Bucky?

True, they had only exchanged a kiss, but perhaps everything was still moving too fast? Perhaps she needed to take her time? She wrote down all her anxieties on the paper she'd used for drafts, and promised herself she'd tell Bucky about them the next time they called.

He had gone back to New York a few weeks earlier, and it was difficult for them to communicate. She knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work in the long term. Especially in two different time zones.

She didn't want to get too attached like in her previous relationships. But Bucky seemed so kind. So thoughtful. However, bad times in the past forced her to be wary of many things, and many people. Even Bucky.

The teacher supervising the exam indicated that there was still an hour to go before the end of the exam. She glanced at her paper: barely four pages... She sighed, gathered her things, handed in her paper and went home.

The journey seemed long. Longer than usual. When she arrived, she was greeted only by her dog Dino. Her mother must still be at work. She took the opportunity to relax a little: take Dino for a walk, have something to eat, continue reading a book. Around 6pm, she took a shower and fell asleep a few minutes after getting into bed.

May 11th 2021

When she woke up, it was past midnight. The house was quiet. Her bedroom door was closed, probably by her mother who had preferred to let her sleep in. She reached for her phone and was blinded for several seconds by the brightness.

A few notifications from her group of friends told her that she wasn't the only one who had failed the exam. Dysariel's plan was holding up, which surprised none of them, after all he always got the best marks.

However, it was two other notifications that caught his attention. They were from Bucky:

Bucky Bear At 10.30pm: Hello Sunflower, I hope your day went well and that you managed to pass your mid-term. Give me your availability for tomorrow, I want to call you for your birthday. At 00:00: If my clock in New York is telling the right time for you, it's time for me to wish you a very happy birthday, my Sunflower. I haven't heard from you, so I assume you've fallen asleep. Thinking of you. PS: I also have a surprise for you that should arrive later today.   Sunflower At 00:15: Thank you, Bucky Bear! I'll be available from midday. I don't have any exams in the afternoon. Do I get a hint about my surprise? I'm thinking of you too. Bucky Bear  At 12:16am: Sorry, but if I tell you, it won't be a surprise! I've got to go to one last meeting. Go back to sleep, you need your rest. I can't wait to see you again.

His messages made her smile. He hadn't forgotten her birthday. He was going to surprise her. She had to concentrate on the positives. She wished she could go back to sleep now, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. So she grabbed her computer, plugged in her headphones and started watching videos. 

She was woken up by her seven o'clock alarm, just two hours after going back to sleep. She nearly fell asleep on the train journey to university. 

This morning she had an English grammar exam from nine to noon. However, she already knew that she would get out early because it was the subject she had mastered the most. Two or three exercises were more complicated and she could guess that she wouldn't get all the points. The most important thing was that she would at least pass the subject.

Zephyr, Dysariel, Axel and Ophélia went out more or less at the same time as her. They stayed another hour to eat together at one of the local fast-food restaurants. They talked about everything and anything. And Bucky.

"So," asked Dysariel, "how are things going with your handsome soldier?"

"Fine," replied Willow, blushing. I'm just a bit scared..."

"Of what?"

"That it's going too fast. Besides, the age difference is great, I mean he's over a century old."

They laughed together and all advised her the same thing: they were sure that what was between her and Bucky was special, but she had to take her time and think about her well-being.

Then came the time to go home. Zephyr went first, his parents being stricter about his going-out times. Then it was Ophélia's turn, as she had almost two hours by train to get home. Dysariel had things to do and wanted to revise for the hardest exam on Thursday: US history. Axel and Willow were the last to leave.

They had barely taken a few steps out of the main building when Axel remarked to Willow, "Look who's here." Indeed, Bucky was coming towards them, in a superb black suit. "I've got a train to catch and I think you deserve some time with him. Happy birthday again and see you on Thursday!" Before Willow could reply, Axel had already crossed the pedestrian crossing. When she turned her head towards Bucky, he was standing next to her, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands.

"Happy birthday, Willow. I hope you don't mind that I came unannounced, I definitely wanted to surprise you." He looked tired but happy to see her again. As for her, she couldn't say a word because she was so surprised. She could only throw herself into his arms.

He held her close. Her long blonde hair smelt of monoi, the scent they both associated with summer. Bucky could already see himself taking her on holiday to the beach, or to New York to meet the people he considered to be his family.

Together they got into the car. "I was thinking we could go for lunch somewhere?" Bucky suggested.

"We've already eaten with the others. Maybe tonight?"

"Yes, of course. Say, I've booked a hotel room for the week, at the park where we spent our first date. We can also spend the day there tomorrow. Are you interested?

"Why not."

Bucky noticed that Willow didn't seem as cheerful as usual. He gently stopped the car at the side of the road, and turned to her, "Is everything all right?" Worry showed on his face and Willow couldn't help crying. There was the stress of the exams, the happiness of seeing Bucky again, the fears that were interfering with her thoughts.

So she told him about all the doubts she had about their relationship. She apologised several times. Bucky took her face in his hands: "Willow, look at me. It's all right, I'm not angry with you. Unless you never want to see me again, we'll take our time. We'll go at your pace. I promise you that. Now, I just want to know if we spend the afternoon and tomorrow together, or if I drop you off at your place?"

"I think I'm scared because of what happened with my old boyfriends."

"Willow, you don't have to tell me about it. Only do it if you want to or if you're ready."

"I am."

"Then we'll talk about it, but let me take you out for dessert. I know when you get really anxious and it calms down, you get hungry right after."

The fact that he remembered little details like this warmed her heart, and a big smile lit up her face. Bucky started the car again, one hand resting on Willow's thigh. Willow put her hand on his. She was already feeling a little lighter.

I hope you love this chapter, I'm writing the next one ! Do not hesitate to like, comment and reblog if you feel comfortable to do so !

[poeticexhalations]

March 31st, 2018 (Part I)

** This section of my blog, in however many parts it will be, has an extreme trigger warning. The writing in this section encompasses graphic descriptions of death by euthanasia, human death, thoughts of suicide, extreme depression, extreme grief, and self-harm ideologies. I will be adding the Suicide Prevention Hotline Number, which is 988.**

People don’t really talk about what it feels like to watch someone die. 

I wish that I could say it was peaceful, like watching a candle be blown out. Poof. The soul was there one minute, and gone the next. But that wasn’t my experience. My mother’s death was messy, traumatic, and agonizing. It took her thirty-two long days to finally pass away. Each and every one of those thirty-two days, I would stay at Presbyterian until late at night, only to drive home and go to classes at [University] the following day.

I was often alone.

My brother rarely came, and my father never did. It was a miracle to get my father to show up for anything, really. I had to beg him to show up to my own graduation. 

The doctors would pull me aside and try to explain things to me that I never understood; trying to listen to them was like trying to listen to music underwater. The words that they used didn’t make sense to me. In layman's terms, my mother’s body was finally failing her because the alcohol she consumed was going to provide her the blissful darkness she always sought.

I was at the hospital so frequently that the nurses would greet me by name.

I’d sit in the little corner of my mother’s ICU room, hearing the beeping of the machines, while I tried to type my undergrad papers on my laptop. Sometimes, she would wake up and have full conversations with me only to forget them the next day. 

I can still remember the path to her hospital room: In through the northern entrance. Head straight to the elevator, take the first elevator on the right. Fourth floor. Doors open, turn left. Turn left again at the end of the hall. Turn right to head into the ICU. Turn left at the desk. Her door was third on the left.

I can also still smell the chemicals of the hospital. Everything there was artificial and bitter, from the baby blue walls to the cheap soap.

As her eldest child, it fell onto me to make medical decisions for my mother that I was woefully, woefully unequipped to do. I had zero medical knowledge. I was also young. I would be in the bathroom after heaving up my lunch, Googling what the doctors were trying to explain to me on my iPhone, before making monumental choices on behalf of the life of another. I became her healthcare power of attorney, and I made the decision to kill my mother. 

“Made” is a very kind way of putting it.

It's more like the decision was thrust into my hands like a sizzling blade, and I was told that it was my choice to grasp the blade. 

My mother was my mother, and then she started becoming a stranger. There is nothing more painful in this world than watching someone you treasure so deeply–a parent, perhaps–slowly slip away into the spiritual realm while you are confused and lost. I’d crack my knuckles in the corner of her room until they bled. I’d skip dinner and wait until the nurses kicked me out late at night. I wouldn’t sleep because I’d dream about her, and how ill she was getting.

Day by day, her skin grew a little more pallor and yellow. 

Day by day, her eyes would lose a little bit of their shine.

Then her nails started to crack. Her bruises from the IV’s stopped healing. Her eyelashes fell out. Her lips were bleeding. Her hair was getting thinner. Her teeth became goopy. The whites of her eyes turned yellow. Her legs bloated. Her stomach bloated. Her hands shrank. Her voice blurred. Her memory began to suffer.

She couldn’t use the restroom without tubes, couldn’t breathe without tubes, couldn’t eat without tubes.

One evening, when they were trying to put the tube down her throat, a code blue happened down the hall. The nurses fled the room and assured me they’d be back. I was holding my mother’s hand as she gagged and heaved on the tube, already halfway down her throat. They never lifted her back up in her bed, so she was lying flat-down on her back. 

I pressed the nurse’s call button, and nothing happened.

I ran into the hallway and asked to be helped (the sound of my mother's desperate heaving in the room behind me), and I was barely acknowledged. I was crying. A full-grown woman, ugly-crying in the hospital hallway, and was barely acknowledged. I remember wanting to collapse.

I didn’t want to leave the room, but I did. I fled down those artificial hallways to a station and told them that my mother couldn’t breathe. It took them twenty-five minutes to get to her.

In those minutes, I told my mother I loved her because I thought that was going to be it. Negligence would be the cause of her death. 

No, silly me; I would be the cause of her death. I just didn’t know it yet.

She told me she loved me back, her lips moving around the tube. 

Those were the last words she spoke to me; a blessing, everyone keeps saying.

The decision was put on me to remove her oxygen. I knew I had to do it, but I couldn’t. They were going to wait for me, the doctors said. They’d keep her on the tube until then.

Tuesday, I was told I needed to make the hard choices.

Wednesday, I woke up and drove halfway to the hospital before driving back, screaming and crying until I couldn’t see the road. I pulled over and cried for hours.

Thursday, I didn’t even try to drive down there. I didn’t climb out of bed. I didn't brush my teeth.

How does one wake up and fully acknowledge that it will be their parent’s last day in this world? And not only that, but that you would be the catalyst for making that a reality?

How do you choose your parent’s death day?

How do you choose what day of the week to kill your mom? It felt like I was putting down my mother the way one puts down a dog. And my younger brother was excused from making the hard choices. It fell onto my shoulders entirely.

Friday, I finally went to the ICU. It was strange eating before I got to the hospital, because I knew I would need food before I watched my mom die. Then I knew I needed to park before watching my mom die. Then I knew I needed to use the restroom before watching my mom die. I was wiping in the bathroom, thinking, my mom is about to die. My mom is about to die.

Then I washed my hands.

How weird.

Have you ever been nervous about getting a flu shot? 

I wasn’t even nervous, knowing I was about to watch my favorite person die.

I felt nothing walking in. 

The nurses told me they expected me days ago. It felt judgmental. I think they were ashamed of me for allowing her to suffer for so long.

I didn’t know what to tell them. My brother came with me, but he threw up in the lobby and stayed outside her room. Bless him, he got to separate himself from the murder I caused.

When the nurses took the tubes out, they pumped my mother full of morphine and told me it would be fast. She’d slip away, and it wouldn’t be long now. I held her bloody hand the entire time. Her skin was cold.

The entire five fucking hours, I held her hand and listened to her wheezing.

Fast my ass.

Five. Fucking. Hours.

(To be continued)

[stownnn]

My brown eyed boy. 2/6/24

i’m not going to sit here and say we weren’t supposed to meet each other, or we came in each others life at a bad point. in ways i don’t believe that, that exist.

i think things happen for a reason, i read too many books and i know too many love songs to not have this imbedded into my brain.

i cant explain what i feel for you without putting it into writing, because when words fail me in the moment - they win after when they’re on paper.

to start off, i want to say i’m not broken and im not damaged. i have been through so much when it comes to love within the past… honestly my entire life. i never was loved properly and even when i was - the person and i weren’t able to love each other properly due to our current situations and my past i couldn’t let go of.

i have since let go of the past in many ways, i have moved on from things that has happened to me. i don’t associate them with every person that comes my way, family friend or significant other. i am utterly aware that everyone is different and that not everyone is the same.

but i have developed a response to things where if it comes up as history repeating itself, its a self defense fight or flight in me that is quick to just walk away - to walk away before i get more hurt.

im usually, typically, right away am ok. i don’t feel any empathy or remorse for doing what’s best for me - why would i when i know im protecting myself??.. but then there was you. who i instantly felt regret and felt the pain that came from doing that to you. i didn’t understand it and im still trying to. because even though i walked away and i said i needed space, i never was able too come to terms with the peace of it. there was only one time i felt this way and with one person, but there’s was more concern over their wellbeing cause they were mentally unwell.

with you, it was more. i worried about you, i wanted to be in your life, i enjoyed my time with you, and i saw you involved in my life more outside of a romantic relationship. even tho my romantic relationship with you was something that was overly passionate and strong on my end, since the moment i kissed you.

i can easily explain what kissing you felt like to me, but i don’t want it to be taken anyway. because no obviously i didn’t fall in love with you - love is simple but made out to be complicated to some people. love for me is something intense, meaningful and euphoric. it’s something that feels like a high, a good one that you don’t come down from and if it’s the good kind of love, it always feels that way. if it’s the bad kind, the euphoric feeling is mixed with overwhelming sadness, anger and anxiety. so no, i didn’t fall in love with you, it was way too soon. but i did have feelings for you.

kissing you felt like from standing in the cold December night to it suddenly bring a warm cool July breeze summer night. How perfect and soft your lips and kisses were that it made my head and thoughts go silent, as if nothing else was surrounding me. how when you kissed me and you spoke between the kisses telling me to let you know when i got home and to drive safe along with the feelings of your hands on my face. and when you pulled away and walked back to your apartment the feelings of your lips still lingered on mine, and the tingling of your hands on my face. how i lost track of my words and thoughts, and couldn’t process anything.

i knew i already liked you from how you spoke about music, in a different but similar way that i am. my music and passion comes from the sounds of guitars, bass and drums. the way the guitar can be plays in multiple ways and create different sounds with capos and notes on different frets and how notes can be changed played with a single guitar string. you got lost in your own music and style - and that was the first time i ever seen someone get lost in it like me. i don’t necessarily know if you find it an escape like i do because i can sit and play for hours on end, and be lost completely as if im the only person in the world playing - but from us listening to music and talking about it; seeing how you got and your passion, it seems pretty close to mine.

when it comes to what happened with us, i do wish i handled it better where i just stated i needed a break and space in a calming way - where i don’t feel as if we hate each other, or feel that we can never fix things or at least not for some time. i don’t believe im wrong with how i felt. i know i said my feelings are invalid here, from what you stated. i personally don’t believe that. i said it to make the fight end, but i don’t believe it. i was hurt and am still hurt. i’m hurt i was led on, im hurt you didn’t give me closure, im hurt from what i saw and heard - im hurt that i felt like i meant nothing to you. i’m hurt that, that night ever happened with us. and im not referring to what happened later that night when you kissed me down my neck and i let my self respect and boundaries go out the window - im only referring to spending the night, the laughter, the jokes, the playfulness, the snuggles, the kisses and how you looked at me after we kissed. How you were all over the place and then just stopped and turned around to grab my face and kiss me as if no time has passed and as if nothing happened. for you to not say the words “im not sure if this is what i want” and only said “i have a wall up and im proceeding with caution” making me believe that we were trying, broke my heart and confused me in so many ways i can’t explain. i felt like an idiot for thinking anything.

i can typically walk away without a problem, i can do it without giving closure. i can do it and not write a paragraph because the person knows what they did for me to walk away, an explanation for mistreatment is never needed to those who do it. but with you i found myself always writing one out, and that was because i wanted you to try to fight for me and us. i thought this is what you wanted and just played in my face, and i wanted to see if you fight and try but you just let me go each time. you wouldn’t handle it, you wouldn’t try to fix things, you wouldn’t try to have me calm down and see your side. you only said “i wish i knew this sooner so I could've change it” instead of “no stop let’s fix this now talk to me, don’t walk away from this” instead you added more fuel to the flame that i made by lighting a match and throwing it onto the gasoline you poured and you watched it burn.

you let me walk away. you let me leave. you let me cry. you let me go without giving closure like i asked. you allowed yourself to hurt me, with knowing all the pain and hurt i been through. you let my heart break, and me feel so unsure of myself and feel like an idiot. i just wanted you to fight for me to show me you cared, but you proved to me that you didn’t and don’t. from someone who said “i just want you happy” when i was going through my toughest battle mentally months before this happened, to someone who breaks my heart, and the worst part is i don’t think you understand or see that..

even with all this, i actually forgive you. i don’t know if you’ll ever come back into my life. i don’t know if i’ll ever put the wall down to let you. but oh my god, if i could rewind time, i would. i would go back to before anything happened. before i allowed myself to go numb for months, i would have allowed myself to let you in, maybe things would be different.

but i don’t believe you were ever a mistake or believe you came in my life at a wrong time. because even if i didn’t love you and with everything with us being short, like sand falling through my fingers and not being able to grasp any of it and stop it. you were my favorite one of all. my brown eyed dark fluffy hair boy, you were my favorite and will forever be my favorite.

i hope and pray that this really was never the end of us, i really truly do..

till we speak again.. always take care, always smile, always laugh, always succeed, and know i am always supporting you and randomly watching your streams and hoping and praying you succeed more than you ever imagined you could. my sweet handsome brown eyed boy. I hope you dont forget me and think of me whenever you see a dodge charger or see a loud dark hair Italian girl with big hazel eyes. I hope you think of me when you see a French bulldog. I hope you think of me when you see books. I hope you think of me when you see a cute couples post. I hope you think of me when you close your eyes and drift to sleep and remember who laid next to you last (if that was me..) I hope you always remember that short feisty girl, you playfully smacked your arm one too many times and than hugged you saying sorry because she felt bad. The girl who is stubborn, stressful, but beautiful. I hope you always remember me, as the girl who wanted nothing more than you and your time. I as well say this in a pure way, not an evil way. Because one thing I know for sure, whether or not we find our way back - I will never ever forget you. My brown eyed boy

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

ngl i kind of missed your wayhaven commentary. 😭

i didn't like rebeca to begin with, but book 3 made her so much more unlikable to me. i also felt that this book has been the weakest so far in terms of plot for me. i thought book 1 was a pretty solid start to a series and book 2 was a pretty decent sequel, but book 3 just felt like it was trying to do too much and failed at executing what it wanted to execute. i was so mad when we didn't get a choice to reject joining the agency. i think bobby is the most interesting character to me, their character just had so much potential that wasn't used. i enjoyed most parts of M and F's routes, but n's just out of character for me.

I honestly do not get N's appeal at this point in the story. Like outside of the love triangle (which I'm not interested in even trying), N seems like the one with the least potential plots/romantic tension? M is stupid and that's the main angst catalyst, A is just pure tooth-pulling bullshit but I guess some people are masochists (derogatory) with bad taste, while F is bland on paper but is enough of a fun sweetheart to at least be pleasant to read about. What's N's deal that isn't covered by any other UB member? Genuine question, not trying to dunk on N or their stans because I personally struggle to see the storytelling appeal of their romance.

And yeah, book 3 is easily the worst so far in every aspect. It honestly seems like it's just a bunch of scenes loosely connected by time skips. There's no real plot or a progression of events, things don't so much lead to other things as scenes just sort of happen one after another without much connecting them or even explaining why they come in that specific order.

ANYWAY I finished my first playthrough of book 3 while answering this ask and uuh AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MISHKA I AM IN YOUR WALLS AND I DO NOT COME IN PEACE

[that-angry-noldo]

Thank you for being willing to answer all these!

Would you do 1, 2, 7, 10, 18, 21, 22, 24, 26, 28, and 30 for Finrod please?

1. My first impression of them

Babygirl.

In my defence, it was Finrod Zong and Finrod was singing about Amarie and he was wearing a dramatic eyeliner and it was a close shot. I looked at him and adopted him immediately.

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

I think after I started spinning him in my head 24/7 and creating my first aus about him (this was before i actually read the silm i think)

7. A quote of them that you remember

Now I don't remember it word for word, but it's that prophecy he says about himself swearing an oath to Galadriel. It's the first thing that comes to mind

10. Describe the character in one sentence

"I can't believe I'm doing this" - "You don't have to though." - "no i'm gonna"

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

He was incredibly loud and curious! Especially as a toddler, he loved toys that made loud noises. He was also extremely clingy :)

21. When do you think they were at their happiest?

I'd say during the Long Peace, but before Nargothrond. Maybe while living in Tol-Sirion. All of his siblings were there, and Turgon hadn't yet thought of Gondolin. They were all together and he found comfort in that

22. When do you think they were at their lowest?

After Dagor Bragollach, before Beren.

He lost his brothers and his world in what was basically one night. I don't think he grieved properly, overworking himself instead, ensuring the rest of his people didn't starve or freeze, trying to maintain communication with the front lines (with his cousins), trying and failing to come to terms with the fact that his world is upside down once again.

He felt like he was drowning. (Or burning. He never really decided.)

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

No one from his Company knows what was happening in the separate cell Sauron was keeping him for days at time. They can only guess it wasn't nice.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

Taking the jewels through Helcaraxe. Truly a Finrod moment.

Also that time he yeeted his responsibilities as a king for a year and lived with edain to write his antropology paper

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

Played the harp when meeting Edain

He just

He met a new race and his first reaction was "oh shoot alexa play despacito"

I love the symbolic and i know it turned out positive but. but

30. The funniest scene they had?

leaving to live with edain for a year and that "you wouldn't know amarie she stayed in valinor" scene with galadriel

[aayushiagrawal]

Book Learning-

Some letters are not just a piece of paper it's a small dream that start with your beleive. We will live many different lives within our lifetime. “Life design is ultimately a new way of life that will transform how you look at your life and how you live your life. The end result of a well-designed life is a life well-lived.” “A well-designed life is a life that is generative—it is constantly creative, productive, changing, evolving, and there is always the possibility of surprise… You never finish designing your life—life is a joyous and never-ending design project of building your way forward.”

Questions to ask yourself-

Who do I want to be? What do I want my life to look like?

How do I find a job that I like or maybe even love?

How do I build a career that will make me a good living?

How do I balance my career with my family?

How can I make a difference in the world?

Becoming immune to failure. As you design your life, you will benefit from developing an immunity to failure. You can begin this process by cultivating a bias for action, failing fast, and learning as much as you can from each failure. In that sense, you learn quickly, iterate, and don’t waste too much time. In short, worry is not worth the physical toll it can take on your body. “God grant me the serenity To accept the things I cannot change,The courage to change the things I can;And the wisdom to know the difference.” “Our life is what our thoughts make it.” – Marcus Aurelius “Yes, I honestly believe that this is one of the greatest secrets to true peace of mind – a decent set of values. And I believe we could annihilate fifty per cent of all our worries at once if we would develop a a sort of private gold standard – a gold standard of what things are worth to us in terms of our lives.” “Man is not made to understand life, but to live it.” – Santayana. Learning not to get worked up when someone says something that isn’t positive is a core skill for dealing with a world in which you may get criticized for just and unjust reasons. No one can disturb your mind if you do not let them. Don’t waste time thinking about people you don’t like.

Do your best to avoid unnecessary strain as you go about your days, and you’ll feel better throughout them. So find activities that get you excited, and you’ll naturally have more energy. “Heroes are heroes because they are heroic in behavior, not because they won or lost.” "If you want to change the world … start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud." The difference between a healthy and an unhealthy relationship comes down to two things: 1) how well each person in the relationship accepts responsibility, and 2) the willingness of each person to both reject and be rejected by their partner.

The three decisions that control your destiny are:

Your decisions about what to focus on

Your decisions about what things mean to you3.33

Your decisions about what to do to create the results you desire.

Your Master System comprises five components:

Your core beliefs and unconscious rules

Your life values

Your references

The habitual questions that you ask yourself

The emotional states you experience in each moment.

At the end of each day I ask myself these questions:

What have I learned today?

What did I contribute or improve?

What did I enjoy?

True practice is not just about learning a skill; it’s about investing the time and energy necessary to discern if this is what you are meant to do.

The artistic way "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler."

[myeagleexpert]

The Perfect Boyfriend

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘

Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB)Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it)

Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3 < < 𝕮𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖑𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 > > 𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙

It was already night when your boyfriend showed up at your door, well… er-EX boyfriend. You and Kain had been together for a few months, but when you realized how toxic and rude he was, you felt the need to break up with him. Just a week later, he shows up at your door asking for forgiveness and begging to have you back.

“Shall we at least talk?” Kain’s voice sounds like a broken record that became softer and more pleasant to listen to as he spoke, like a person with a hoarse throat from a hangover, which… well, that was Kain almost every day.

He says, offering you a beautiful bouquet of Japanese flowers, in shades of pink and pastel pink, of various sizes, wrapped in paper that imitated butterfly wings, wrapped in such an elegant and harmonious way. It was an incredibly beautiful and thoughtful bouquet. It was actually an image you had recently visualized at the flower shop and in your desired heart. Point 1 that something is wrong.

Kain has only given you flowers exactly 3 times. All three of them were cheap plastic red roses, still with the price tag on them when YN picked them up and an unmistakable smell of old invaded her nose so much that it made her cough, she has always been sensitive to smells.

These smell of harmonious and enchanted nature, as if one of Monet's beautiful paintings had come to life. But YN is hurt by the aggressive breakup, mulling over painful old memories while trying to maintain her pride with a glass or two of wine. With her mind clouded by sadness and anger, she fails to realize that the man in front of her is strangely… strange.

"What's the bouquet for? You're not going to buy me with that." YN crosses her arms and looks skeptically at the beautiful flowers.

"Please! Accept it as a peace offering!" he says approaching YN with the bouquet, trying to place it in her arms almost desperately.

They were too stupidly beautiful to refuse… but there is something in her heart that tells you to close the door immmediatly.

Sensing your hesitation, he tries to convince you once more.

“Just a conversation, nothing more. I know that… we didn't end up on the best of terms… but please, I need to talk to you.” The man looks at YN with sincerity and devotion in his… blue eyes? YN could have sworn that his eyes were beautiful brown.

“Okay. Okay. Just ONE conversation. And after that… I don't want to see you in front of me anymore.” The girl stomps her foot and maintains her angry and indifferent posture as she receives the flowers and opens the door wider so he can enter.

“And don't even think about jumping on my couch like last time! I'm still paying for the conc-“ Normally Kain would have thrown his muddy sneakers on the floor and sprawled on the couch, but to the girl's surprise, he was right next to her, waiting for her to guide him.

“Did I break your couch? I'm sorry, let me pay for the repair now, okay?” Don't pretend to be nice in front of me, just look at him pretending to be innocent as if he hadn't thrown in my face that the problem was mine.

“I don’t want anything from you, let’s get things moving.” YN spits out the venom, entering the room and placing the bouquet on the table while the man follows her wherever she goes, until they sit on the couch (the one that isn’t broken) in the living room.

In better light, YN can see that there’s something different about him. And Kain dyed his hair, his short black hair was chin-length, the ends highlighted in rich caramel tones. The skin that was once worn out by tiredness and nights of drinking was almost porcelain, clean, with hardly any prominent pores. The thin, frowning mouth had soft, kissable lips, his jaw was well defined too. The post-breakup glow, huh?

“You look different…” you make the observation as you settle into the couch, trying not to seem interested in anything he might have to say, but curiosity is addictive, right?

“Did you like it?” He lights up when you notice and runs your hand through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear as he approaches you.

It's for you.

When he tries to get closer, you aggressively place a pillow between the two of you, much to Kain's dismay, who seems to immediately wilt at your attitude. "I said different. Don't let it go to your head." As sharp as a Tramontina knife, you cut him off immediately.

"You said you wanted to talk, come on. Talk." You snort, putting on a serious posture and looking him straight into his fake eyes. Contacts, Kain? Seriously?

"Ah.. yes, I wanted to talk to you YN." He turns towards her, giving her all the attention she once begged for. A bitter taste invades your mouth, like the feeling of receiving a gift that your child would dream of receiving, but you miss as an adult. A belated gift, that means less than the dust on the soles of your shoes.

“I ask you to reconsider… we've had our ups and downs in our relationship, but I know it has a lot of potential. Let's try again, let me show you how much I've changed, how happy we can be together.” He tries to give a friendly smile.

Change in a week? Nah, spare me.

“Nobody changes that much in a week, Kain. I don't move out of resentment and you've never changed out of guilt.” YN puts him against the wall coldly. “Why do you want to get back together? You called me worthless and now you see the potential in us? Humph… Your offer isn't the best.” She snorts as she looks at him with disdain, wanting to know where all this is coming from.

“Wait! Please!” Kain approaches and desperately takes her hand. “I know I was rude and rude to you… I was selfish and I never gave you the value you deserved. I was terrible and you have every right to refuse me…”

Oh, and how I do.

“But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t regret it-“

“Oh, I don’t want to pay to see. In the last fight I ended up punching the wall… I don’t want to wait for you to hit my head.” Your gaze is furrowed, irritated and for a moment you notice the same look pass quickly through Kain’s. Is he upset that you threw that in his face?

“I’m sorry about that scene YN, it wasn’t me…” the last part rings so true that YN raises an eyebrow skeptically “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

Masculine hands move to hold YN’s cheeks as he gently caresses them. They seem too big.. but let’s leave that thought for later. He’s different.. and little by little you’re feel disarmed by his attitude.

“I can’t live without you. Please… just give me one chance to prove to you that I’m your best option. That I’ve changed. That I can be better.” Kain's voice is like a warm blanket, enveloping all your senses… like a mermaid would envelop a sailor until he drowned.

He's never spoken to me like that. He's never used that tone with me.

As the red lights in your head go off, you try to pull away from his hands. Seeing your attempt to pull away, he tightens his grip and moves even closer to your body. There's something strange in his blue eyes… maybe it's a devotion you weren't used to… or something strangely… uncanny.

"YN…" he whispers sweetly and delicately, moving even closer until your eyes are staring directly into each other's.

"I love you… so much. You mean so much to me." He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. "Give me a chance… just one."

Something possessed you at that moment. The wine must have messed with your head. You must have been drugged. The water was bad. You must be sick. You must have been PMSing. Or ovulating. Or menstruating… because there's no rational reason why you gave in, and nodded slightly with your head tilted to accept his offer.

"Are you serious?" He looks into your eyes and finds no lie, just a hesitation. "I'm so happy! You won't regret it!" He hugs YN and wraps her in strong arms, burying his face in her shoulder while placing small kisses on her face.

When you hug him back, very suspiciously, you notice that his body is different. Taller, more muscular, more attractive… he couldn't make such a change in a week, he didn't even go to the gym.

"YN, look at me…" with a delicate hand on her chin he guides her to his lips, where they kiss delicately, savoring each other's presence. Until the smell of his perfume invades your nose, enveloping you in a light trance.

Kain smells like expensive perfume.

He always smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, something you always complained about. He now had a feeling of cleanliness and elegance, the leather jacket was new too. The smell of perfume is almost suffocating. Why would he be wearing such a fragrant and expensive perfume?

When the two of them are separated for air, Kain looks with so much devotion and love while caressing her lower lip "I love you."

Kain smiles in a way that YN had never seen him smile like that. Big mouth, too white teeth and some sharp hidden fangs.

There's something wrong with her ex-boyfriend.

But two weeks later… YN forgets about it, keeping any survival instinct or voice of conscience in a drawer at the back of her mind, along with the unpleasant memories of the relationship. Mentally thanking him for having changed.

It was as if she was floating on clouds and Kain was her ray of sunshine.

As time went by, YN fell more and more in love with Kain, as if she was getting to know a new side of him. It was as if he had created a rosy and passionate world, where he controlled all reality around her, solving everything for her. YN felt trapped in a state of enchantment and dependence almost like a drug addict, laughing alone and going limp in his presence.

It was fascinating for Kain to manipulate YN's emotions, keeping her trapped in a state of passion and blind trust while he himself fell into a state of disillusionment. Every gesture and behavior of his was calculated to make her fall even more in love, while he tried hard to hide any detail that could reveal the truth. YN found herself increasingly trapped in the spell, unable to realize that the man she had fallen in love with was… too perfect, a romance novel, the kind she had most innocently dreamed of until the adventures in hidden paragraphs. Kain did everything perfectly and still left her wanting more.

It's been two great weeks, YN visits him at his house almost every day and they're getting ready to live together, she's been going out with her party-loving friends, she's been so productive at work that she got a promotion today!

“Congratulations YN! I knew our project would boost you in the company.” Your boss praises you, it was hard and delicate work but she knew that by putting herself in your hands she would prosper.

“Thank you very much for your trust.” You smile at her.

“The guys are going to celebrate the success after work, are you coming?” she asks, noticing that you're not getting ready to go out

“Oh no, I promised I'd go out with my boyfriend to celebrate today. But I'm going to celebrate the weekend with you guys!” you say, reminding her that you're still going out with the company this weekend, but she looks confused

“Your boyfriend? Didn't you guys break up two or… three weeks ago?”

“We're back together, and he's better than ever, can you believe it?” you show her a picture of the two of you at the eco-park, him holding your waist while smiling beautifully.

Your boss looks suspicious, she could swear by the name of the company that she'd seen him somewhere before, like a piece of information on the tip of her tongue that's soon forgotten strangely… but she tries to give you a vote of confidence “Err… I'm happy for you. But remember, we've had clients who were wolves in sheep's clothing. Enjoy the honeymoon phase.” She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. “Call me if you need anything, dear.”

Wolf in sheep's clothing… interesting.

You think about this as you ride back to his house on your motorbike, and right on the way you enter the usual flower shop and meet Thomas, the friendly old man who sells the flower shop.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!” you greet him as soon as you arrive at the store. His tired eyes soon find your presence as you explore the garden in search of a plant that catches your attention.

“Good afternoon, girl.” He walks towards you in slow steps, supporting himself with his old wooden cane.

“I think I’ll take this one here-“ you point to beautiful white alstroemerias.

“Your boyfriend is allergic to these.” He warns, looking at them. “He came here the other day and when he was going to touch this one, it looked like my cat, he started coughing and almost vomited when he touched the plant.”

You turn your head to him in confusion. Kain has never been allergic to flowers.

“I found it strange, because people usually aren’t allergic to this type of alstroemeria.” The old man scratches his chin thoughtfully but then laughs to himself. “But I suppose, each organism works differently.”

“That’s true, the human body has one of those.” You laugh with him, but then you notice him staring at you. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s taking good care of you, isn’t he? You look very radiant, girl.” The old man’s soft voice breaks any tension you were feeling before, and with a slightly blushing face you admit that yes.

“You know, the first time he came in here I thought he was a drunk when I bought those red, plastic roses… on your first date.” Mr. Thomas’s body shivers with disgust at the boy’s lack of romance.

“Oh my god… my head hurts just remembering, he dropped some flowers and came staggering, he smelled terrible of cigarettes.”

“It’s likely he wasn’t drunk… but high, Mr. Thomas.” You whisper to him.

“And how did you fall in love with something like that?” the rolled eyes make YN laugh a little at the florist's drama but before she could say anything he continues

“But the second time he came, he seemed like a gentleman. He walked elegantly through the plants and I was surprised when he chose that bouquet of Japanese flowers…”

“Me too! I wanted them so much!” you sigh in love

“Exactly the flowers you wanted…” he murmurs softly as he picks up a dead leaf from one of the vases

“But that's not what caught my attention, dear…”

“What caught your attention?” Was it his muscles? His hair? The beautiful way he speaks?

He spends a few seconds thinking about how to tell you exactly what it was that made him feel....

“A few years ago, when I was young, I traveled for work and spent a week away. When I came back, the first thing that caught my attention was the smell I could smell from the door…” the old gardener narrates his story with his eyes clouded with nostalgia and worry, as if he wanted YN to understand his point making you feel anxious…..

“My wife had been dead for 3 days… The putrid smell was terrible.” The words are almost like a whisper “I never forgot that smell.”

“That boy smelled like death the second time he came here.” As the gardener looks directly into your eyes YN feels her breath catch in her lungs.

What does he mean by that?

“What did she die of?” YN curiously asks him

“Heart attack or something like that.. I'm sorry. I…” the old man shudders and sits in a nearby chair visibly shaken by such memories while you get him some water trying to somehow give him comfort.

“Oh YN, the smell was very strong and terrible…. when that man came in here I could only remember that.” The man's vision was blurred because he loved his wife very much, he held on tightly to his cane to keep himself steady.

"I'm sorry about your wife, I'm sorry I made you remember all this…" YN crouched down next to him as she picked up the glass of water, feeling guilty for such emotions in the old florist.

He then looked at YN with pity for her kindness, big confused and kind eyes stared back at him, old Mr. Thomas and decided to swallow his tears as he tried to compose himself.

"I'm not saying your boyfriend is a zoombie or anything like that" he laughed as he slowly stood up "But I'm saying he smelled really bad when he got here, remind him to take baths, okay?" he said with the same funny tone as always, playing with the rhymes and tones of the words while to lighten the mood she laughed at him.

"Oh, he smells much better now." You said remembering the bubble baths you took together

"Was it you who gave him that perfume? Good choice.”

What?

“What perfume, Mr. Thomas?” you ask, helping him to the counter.

“It’s an expensive perfume, very good… I think I’ve only smelled one person wearing it, the mayor of the city in 1980. Good taste, it’s an extremely refined perfume.”

“O-oh… yeah.”

“Now he wears it a lot, I felt suffocated in his presence…” he says, adjusting his clothes and cane. “Well, me and my plants.” He laughs to himself.

“Sorry about that, I know they’re sensitive to strong smells.” You laugh.

"I give him a second chance, he brings me really pretty flowers, huh?"

"Oh, the romantic ones."

YN drives confused back to Kain's house, she remembers the drive being longer before they got back together, there were more houses in the neighborhood and that he still lived with his parents. In two weeks she has never heard of his parents… or the neighbors… or the dog he had… where are they?

Her steps are automatic and before she knows it she is in front of a cozy and chic house, with plants in front decorating a beautiful backyard with very green grass and all doubts and questions disappear when she knocks on the door, anxious for her dear boyfriend to answer.

Almost immediately the door opens, he seems to always be waiting for her like a dog anxiously awaits its owner, he would never leave her waiting.

“Good night, darling, I missed you so much.” He wraps her in a comforting hug and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead, inviting her to come into the house, taking off her coat and boots, a gesture that always makes butterflies fly in YN’s stomach.

Oh, the little gestures < 3…

Wait, what is he wearing?

“Oh, you look beautiful in an apron, you know?” YN compliments her boyfriend, giving him a mischievous smile.

He was wearing a pastel pink plaid apron, with red lace the same shade as his cheeks when he hears her compliment.

“Oh, did you like it? I-i just wanted to surprise you, my love. Let’s celebrate, remember?”

“And how could I forget?” YN hugs him and he quickly wraps his arms around her again “I’d rather be here with you than go out to celebrate with the company.”

“And I’m going to make you enjoy every bit of tonight…” he murmured with a smirk on his lips as he brushed their noses together in a delicate gesture. He took YN’s chin between his fingers, guiding her head to within inches of his mouth. At this moment, YN’s hands began to roam Kain’s body, transforming the moment into something more intimate.

“Oh darling, what a big body you have…” she said in a husky tone, playing with the hem of his shirt. A sneaky hand left trails of fire on Kain’s body.

“It’s to protect you better, my love…” he chuckled, pulling her closer to him with his hands on her waist. The air was heavy between the two of them, and YN delighted in seeing her boyfriend’s pupils dilate like a cat’s.

“Oh darling, what big eyes you have…”

“It’s to see you better, my little one…” he chuckled softly, and his large hands began to explore her body, from her hips to her breasts, firmly cupping her breasts. goosebumps on both of them, some sparks of passion starting to turn into dangerous flames….

“But darling, what big hands you have…” the young woman's body is pressed closer against his warm body as she bats her eyelashes innocently, an innocence that doesn't reach the small smirk on her lips

“Oh, yes darling, I have nice big hands, don't I? It's the better to hold you, sweetheart……” in a husky and low voice he answers, bringing his mouth to YN's neck giving long kisses in the region Kain lets out a soft moan as YN runs her hand through his hair encouraging him, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He looks at YN, blue eyes full of desire and an almost primal hunger, as he continues to kiss and tease the delicate skin…

“Oh but.. darling?” YN breathed

“Yeah?” Kain breathed back

“And why such a big mouth?”

He licks his lips as he brings his girlfriend's face closer with one hand, inches away from her succulent lips, possessively squeezing her curves with the other, making YN moan slightly, their heartbeats synchronizing as they look intensely into each other's eyes…

"It's fo-" The oven alarm goes off, a high-pitched and unromantic sound, making the two young lovers frustrated by the break in the moment.

YN grunts, leaning her head against Kain's chest, feeling embarrassed now that the sound of the alarm has brought her sanity back. She always feels like she loses her self-control around Kain. He laughs lightly at her reaction and strokes her hair gently.

"Hey, it's your surprise in the oven…" he kisses the top of her head "Go take a shower, honey, it's time for me to finish the preparations, okay?" She nods and lets go of him, climbing the stairs to the first floor, almost floating, still recovering from the previous moment with a silly smile on her face, the same one Kain had while preparing the frosting and strawberries for the cake…

YN's nose only realizes now that the house has a very sweet smell, normally she is already used to the smell in the house but today the traditional smell of roses and homey is more like an open candy store, when entering the room she notices that there are more air fresheners than usual in every corner and corner. Kain knows that Yn has a sweet tooth, always looking for desserts and sweet smells and he was very happy to make this house as comfortable as possible… but is he not exaggerating? Nah, never.

The young woman enters the marble bathroom, now with feminine touches everywhere the eye can see: Skincare that smells like tutti frutti gum, soap that smells like strawberries, shampoo that smells like raspberries, towels in a shade of pastel pink, matching the bathroom rugs and the flowers near the mirror.

YN laughs dreamily, who would have thought that for such a big man with such a rough appearance, Kain wouldn't be more than happy to have the same feminine smell as his girlfriend? He insists, as they take a shower together. He insists while using the same floral perfume as his girlfriend, claiming that he wants to have the same smell as his girlfriend, he feels closer to her every time she does leave and he could recognize her sweet scent.

YN leaves the bathroom refreshed and radiant and puts on a comfortable dress but with a slight neckline, delicate pink with white polka dots to match her boyfriend's cute apron. She sighs in relief that the day is finally over and all she will do now is enjoy the night with Kain, he always made her worries melt away with the slightest touch, and with the slightest touch from YN, Kain felt determined to do everything for her.

They were a perfect couple and beautiful to behold.

The world was pink with cotton candy clouds.

The background music was like a fairy tale from an old romance.

What more could she want?

As she dries her hair, she receives a message from her boss and ignores it thinking it must be a photo of the company's celebration or a request to reform some document. Not today, she thought to herself. When the messages became frantic, YN began to find the situation strange and, shrugging her shoulders, decided to pick up her cell phone and check what was happening.

She held her breath.

It wasn't a photo of the company party.

It was an image of Kain's body, dead in a car accident.

It wasn't a message asking her to reform some document.

It was a message in capital letters that screamed in desperation:

Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO. Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!

YN feels the world fall apart as she lets her cell phone fall from her cold hands, while she keeps the storm of emotions inside her in a confused way. Trembling, she sits on the carefully made bed, and a cold hand tries to cover her half-open mouth. In a state of shock, all the girl can do is stay paralyzed, staring at the emptiness in the room while her hair drips and wets the bed.

No… this can't be real…..

She looks at the photo once more, a big red circle marking the date: It happened three weeks ago.

How….. is this….. possible?

She tries to reason while catching her breath, a mixture of sadness and fear taking over her heart.

"Honey, everything is ready! Are you going down now?" Kain's voice echoes through the house, he is asking at the foot of the stairs while drying his hands.

Fear is not enough.

Panic takes over YN's body so much that she starts to shake horribly and any logical thought disappears, becoming paralyzed.

"Will you be long, sweetheart?"

I need to get away from here. This man wants to kill me. OMG. OH MY GOD! WHAT DO I DO?

"YN?" a voice with more authority in its tone, as if demanding to know why she is not responding.

Amidst the accelerated beats and the pressure in her ears, she hears him take a step on the stairs and terrified she tries to hide it.

"N-no!… ah…. I'm looking… for my perfume." She tries to hide it by stretching to open and close the drawer next to the bed, pretending to be looking.

“Don’t be long, my love, I already miss you <3” he hums in a sweet and passionate tone as he returns to the kitchen.

Quick.

Action plan. Quick. I need help.

YN: Okay, what do you mean by that? (message not sent)

YN: Who is this man then? What is he? (message not sent)

YN: I need to get out of here, please come and get me! (message not sent)

A shiver runs down the girl’s spine when the internet suddenly goes out, what could have happened to her? Will I have to deal with all this alone?

Oh my God…..

She runs a trembling hand through her wet hair trying to calm herself down with all this and for the first time in two weeks she hears the little voice inside her head, the one that said there was something strange with her boyfriend.

He doesn’t know that I know.

An advantage? Yes.

Disadvantage? Anything could be in his plans.

What is he using me for? Why is he pretending to be my boyfriend? Is he behind the real Kain's accident? What if I call the police? What if he wants to kill me while I'm sleeping? What if he poisons me…? Oh no.

YN's eyes widen at the possibility and an overwhelming anxiety takes over her body, her breath catching in her throat, her heart racing, sweat running down her forehead.

"Sweetheart, do you want me to escort the princess to her royal kitchen?" the voice of the aforementioned person is heard in the hallway, he is in the middle of the stairs humming "Have you found your perfume yet, love?"

A second passes.

And another.

"YN, are you okay?"

You need to get out of here. Quickly.

"…… y-yes…… I, I'm… coming down now, okay?" disguising it in a shaky voice, she slowly gets up from the bed and picks up the perfume on the headboard next to the bed, applying it with difficulty because the sweat on her hands made it slip.

She swallows the terrible urge to scream for help, to jump out the window, to tear her hair out, and takes robotic steps until she leaves the room, passing through the damn hallway like a sheep going to the slaughterhouse. At that moment, the various sweet air fresheners make her feel nauseous and her head spins. She rests one hand on the wall as she goes down the stairs, her eyes wide as she holds her breath.

Slowly she takes in the scene: The dining room looks like it came straight out of a romance movie, there are rose petals on the floor and candles in vintage candelabras on the table, in the middle of the table there is a beautiful decorated pink cake and at the entrance is the perfect boyfriend.

"May I have the honors, my princess?" He extends his hand in a chivalrous manner and YN, as an instinct of her body for having done this scene many times, gives him her hand.

Kain's eyes are full of devotion as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of YN's hand, looking her directly in the eyes during the act, the action takes seconds to finish.

“I’m glad you chose me. And as promised, you won’t regret it.” He takes her by the hand and gently pulls out the chair, waiting for his lady to sit down. YN is doing everything she can to not freak out, trying to act as normal as possible, trying to relax at any cost so he doesn’t notice.

“T-thanks for the… kindness, dear.” With a dry mouth she says.

He hums in return, “Oh, anything for you.”

YN can’t help but think that everything he says and does has a hidden meaning now, like a predator sadistically toying with his prey. The young man brings the cake closer so YN can appreciate the vitsa, which he spent the afternoon learning on YouTube how to decorate a cake with icing and create a romantic setting.

“Well…” he clears his throat “I hope you like it, it was my first time doing something like this and I really wanted you to like it.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while giving a charming smile

“Y-yes… yeah, it’s beautiful, love.”

YN forced a smile as she struggled to stay calm, trying not to show the chaos that was unfolding inside her. Her hands were still shaking as she watched Kain cut a piece of the cake and place it on a plate for her.

The strange man, still in the role of the perfect groom, decides to be more romantic and proposes to feed her, in a cute way. He asks YN to open her mouth while trying to make it seem like a sweet and loving scene.

"Open your mouth, honey. Let me give you a piece of cake. Say 'Aah~"

YN opens her mouth automatically, while her mind is still stuck on her boss's words. Her expression is almost absent, as she tries to maintain the facade of apparent calm in front of her boyfriend. Kain puts the piece of cake in YN's mouth and observes her face, thinking that her apparent passivity was a product of the romantic scene they were having. Meanwhile, YN could only think about finding a way to escape from there as quickly as possible.

With each bite, YN felt the fear increase even more, praying to any being in the heavens to save her, for someone to clean up this mess, for her to have the strength to stop him. A wave of ultra sensitivity hits her mind, a result of stress and anxiety, and she can't stop thinking that it's all too much… too much. The cake is too sweet, sickly sweet, the frosting is too pink, the cherries taste too much like cherries, the background music was a soundtrack from her favorite romantic movie making her hair stand on end to the point of pain, capturing every sound and vibration in constant alert, as if at any moment he would take out a knife and stab her.

While YN ate the piece of cake, her mind was still stuck in trying to find a way to escape that situation without giving herself away. She tried to act as normally as possible in front of the stranger in front of her, while her heart was pounding with anxiety and fear.

“Are you okay, love? You seem tense… isn't the cake good?” Kain asks, gently running a hand over YN's cheek and involuntarily she pulls away.

Kain's eyes widen and a twinge of sadness passes through his blue eyes.

YN regrets that.

“S-sorry, love… I'm just tired from work.” YN tries to act as normal as possible but he can almost see through her that there is something bothering her, or to be more exact, he can see through the neckline of her dress that the beautiful woman's heart is abnormally racing.

“But… but the cake is delicious!” To prove the point, she herself picks up the fork and takes a piece of cake to her mouth, holding back the urge to vomit. “Beginner's luck, maybe?” she laughs and teases him a little.

Act normal, woman. Act normal or he'll notice.

“Who knows?” He smiles at her, not understanding what happened but decides to save this subject for later to enjoy the romantic dinner

“I've always been lucky on my first times…” he winks at her

“O-Oh…” YN laughs embarrassedly, not hiding the blush that rises on her cheeks

Dinner soon ends, YN comments a few things about work while Kain gives details of how his day was and in the end they go to watch a movie on the couch cuddling wrapped in soft and warm blankets. YN who was previously so interested in the cinematography of films, obsessively observing each character and each angle now doesn't even know the name of the film or what genre it is.

Would it be horror like a terrible joke of the storm inside herself? Would it be a romantic movie to continue this psychotic game of house?

All she can think is that now is the perfect time to run away.

Now that Kain is sleeping so soundly in her arms with a contented smile.

The clock strikes midnight and with a little trick she manages to leave without waking him, making her steps as light as a feather as she walks to the door, the only source of light being the TV playing scenes from the movie.

Her heart was beating strongly in her veins, she could hear her own heartbeats in her ear as she took a deep breath until she reached the door she had dreamed of, the exit to salvation.

As soon as she puts her cold hand on the doorknob, a brutal realization hits her in the face, she doesn't have her cell phone… and she doesn't know where it is.

With a sharp gulp she decides to go without it because this might be her only chance of survival, she tightly holds the motorcycle keys and opens the door.

"Where are you going at this time of night, sweetheart?" the creature's voice was like a roar held back by teeth, Kain's figure was on the other side of the door making her blood run cold immediately, YN's cell phone was in his big hand with the messages with her boss open.

His figure towers over her trembling form, his head twisting in an inhuman manner, watching YN intently, a horrifying smile on his lips.

For the first time in two weeks, YN smells a repulsive, rotten smell.

A scream is heard.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

[strayraccoon]

(Just trying to write snippets after so long, sorry in advance if it sounds awkward)

The Amber Wall was finally visible after a long grueling journey. Traveling from the remote end of the galaxy to the homeworld of interstellar commercial empire was no joke. The physical exhaustion alone took tolls on your body. You reassured yourself, only a few hours left between the uncomfortable seat of the shuttle and the warm bath waiting in your home.

You weren’t worried about leaving your home for months for ends. No, in fact, you won’t find your solace in between long travels and sleepless nights covered in dust. A certain someone visited your humble abode from time to time, cleaning the place and watering the plants.

So, if he happens to be in the market for a quiet place and decided to hide away in your home, you wouldn’t mind. Even if he often left his research materials. Perhaps he wanted you to study (one of) his field of expertise, but alas, quantum physics is out of your league.

“You’re late by five minutes and thirty-two seconds.” Ratio crossed his arm in annoyance the moment you approached him in the disembarkation station.

If it was anyone else, they would be offended. Not you. “Blame the customs. They were being extremely rigorous today.”

At that moment, Ratio picked up your luggage. Alarmingly little for someone who traveled from the other end of the universe, “Fair enough. I heard from the pipelines that the Stellaron Hunter brat paid a visit. Trying to detain her, though, would be a practice in futility. Anyway, is this all your stuff?”

“What? Did you expect me to bring extremely brittle papyrus inside my suitcase?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Ratio sneaked a grin.

No one, exactly no one. Whether it is in Pier Point, Interastral Peace Company, or even the Intellegensia Guild, could guess your relationship with Ratio. From the perspective of an outsider, you two appear to be very close friends. Close enough to be considered friends, but dry enough to avoid being labelled as lovers.

Besides, the women and men of Intellegensia Guild has long since given up their pursuit of the most eligible bachelor (put him in the black list, even, due to his uncouth behavior). Therefore, none - except for one unnecessarily sharp gambler - knew the true nature of your relationship with Ratio.

That besides the point, however. The point is that your longwithstanding relationship is the result of a series of hypotheses and practices. The two of you tested your personal boundaries, discuss how much of each of you are willing to compromise, and act within the agreed terms. Do that for years, and you found that Ratio wasn’t as uncompromising as he made himself looked to be.

Fancy words aside: it boils down to just - communicate-. One thing that most couples fail to do despite the excessive show of affection in public.

“Still, it’s something to see all these. One would think I have been robbed.” You exhaled, looking at tablets, books, and papers scattered throughout your living room. You expected it to happen, but not to the apparent degree of sloppiness. You picked up one of the tablets, “A lot of things happened while I was gone, huh?”

Ratio counted with his fingers, “There’s Miss Mei’s guinea pig nearly destroying Herta’s Research Station, and almost immediately after Duke Inferno nearly took over the entire facility if not for timely intervention from yours truly. Oh, and a certain Nameless who happened to be on the station, I suppose.”

“The news only mentioned the latter. Nothing about your intervention, though.”

“Obviously. All that matters is that all’s well ends well.”

“What about Penacony?” You stacked the books and papers, trying to sort them according to topic (that you recognize anyway). After putting away the unnecessary clutters, you flopped onto the plush sofa. You instantly wondered why you bothered leaving home.

“I’ll be on the first shuttle tomorrow morning. To be perfectly honest with you, I’m not looking forward to this messy business.” Ratio, finished with his part of the room, joined you on the sofa. He made himself comfortable beside you, and did not object when you laid your head on his shoulders. “Guess who’s the head of the operation?”

“Can’t be Aventurine?”

“Sadly, it’s him.” He exhaled, nearly seething. But he regained composure not long after, “Enough about me, how’s your research going?”

“Oh, you have no idea -- did I mention about that one time we encountered the Disciple of Abundance in my mail? Or when that dastardly self-styled professor nearly ruined--” you started.

The conversation went on, though the focus of the subject shifts from time to time. Sometimes, it’s you who told stories of your misadventure at the edge of the galaxy. At another time, Ratio was the one unloading his woes. There’s nothing like speaking face-to-face. Neither holo-call nor e-mail could deliver the nuance of your stories.

So many things to talk about, so little time. So Ratio and you had to make do. The stories went on over dinner, and even during the long bath you two took together. So when it was time to end the day, you would have nothing else to say. All you needed to do was relax in his embrace.

“Did you really think so?” Ratio started with a rare mischievous grin.

Knowing exactly what was on his mind, you started, “Are you for real now? You have early start tomorrow.”

“...and I only have you until tomorrow.” Ratio replied. It sure seemed like he didn’t mind missing the first shuttle.

So you laughed. The small surprises between well-planned routine. ‘Uncharacteristic’ behavior that Ratio would never showed outside the walls of your abode. If only more people would dare to open the thick cover that veiled the real Veritas Ratio, they’d find him agreeable. Surprisingly pleasant, even. With their reluctance, however, you get to hog him for yourself.

Perhaps, you’d rather that than the alternative. What precious little time Ratio and you had, could be spent together than be bogged down with pesky social calls.

Regardless, time for thinking was over, and all you could think of is how you would be sore the following day.