#i nearly cried when she told me i won't even lie

[lovebugcody]

i don't think my dental hygienist realises just how much of a fear i have surrounding oral health because i am now going to be flossing twice a day and using mouthwash and trying not to cry

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

[pigfacedbitch]

Way Back Home

summary : visiting May Castellan after the Battle of Manhattan

word count : 1.1k

type : imagines

pairing/s : Sibling! Luke Castellan x Reader

warning/s : death, mourning for loved ones, and the unfairness mortals go through because of the gods

here is my masterlist!

Note : I'm not going to lie, I thought about this for a long time. I picked Phillipa Soo from Hamilton because she's perfect for the role. I SWEAR THAT IF THEY CHOOSE ANYONE ELSE, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM! DON'T THEY SEE THE POTENTIAL?

After the battle, like everyone else, you mourn for your lost. Specifically, Luke Castellan.

Sure, he was the traitor who betrayed your trust, caused the death of friends and siblings, and nearly brought the world to ruin by aiding Kronos. But before all that, he was your brother.

Your loving, funny, patient, older brother, the one you always confided in. He gave you affection and encouragement when you needed it, and for a time, the anchor in your fucked up demigod life.

As much as you want to forget him, you can't. You loved him dearly.

While going through the belongings he left in the Hermes Cabin, you come upon a picture of his mother.

When you first asked Luke about her, the grim expression on his face was enough for you to never ask about her again.

Until he opened up to you, saying she was cursed by the spirit of Delphi and this made him run away from home.

You thought of Rachel O' Dare, the red headed girl who is now Apollo's Oracle, and what it means for May Castellan.

Is she okay? Is her curse lifted anyhow? Is she aware of what happened?

Then it hit you. You can visit her and see for yourself, but you didn't want to go alone.

When you suggested it to Annabeth, she was hesitant.

After all, she had her own painful memories in that house; particularly May's glowing green eyes and manic behavior.

However, she knew it was necessary. It will give her the complete closure she needed with Luke, as will you.

As expected, Annabeth told Percy, Thalia, and Grover about it. While they were doubtful that it would end well, they agreed to come along for both your sakes.

Just as you were about to leave Camp Half-Blood, you are surprised to see some of your siblings waiting by Thalia's tree.

"Leaving without us?" Travis asks with a smirk as you approach.

"May we go with you? We promise we won't trash her house." Connor adds.

"What are you guys—" Travis cuts you off, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with solemnity.

"Luke was our brother too." He says, walking closer to pull you in an embrace. "So, we're not going to let you go through this alone. Got it?"

"Excuse me, we're here!" Percy remarks, sarcastic. "We're also supporting her.”

"Do you hear anyone, guys?" Connor asks, feigning confusion. "Because, I don't."

"Why, you son of a bitch—"

"True, but that's not the point. Let's go!" Connor interjects. The rest try to muffle their laughs, including you.

You arrived at the Castellan residence— a once-beautiful home with white fences and a front lawn. You can almost imagine Luke as a baby, carefree and happy with his mother and Hermes.

Oh, how that poor child turned out.

It was you who knocked on the door, with everyone else on standby. A woman, looking lost and broken, answered with a meek "H-Hello?"

She wasn't as Annabeth had described, but she wasn't the youthful, beautiful woman from Luke's pictures either.

The sight of her alone made you wanted to march to Olympus and shove your foot down your dad's ass.

Nevertheless, she invited you into her home. You frown upon seeing the mess, especially the Kool-Aid and moldy sandwiches in Tupperware containers.

As you, Annabeth, and Thalia explain what happened; you braced for a violent reaction. Instead, she just cries.

Without thinking, you got emotional and pulled her into a hug, apologizing frantically for something you didn't even fully understand. Was it guilt for Luke's downfall? Anger at the gods for the suffering they caused innocent mortals like like his mom?

You immediately pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the broken woman who, like so many others, had lost a child whose life was just beginning.

The others started to help around the house while you console her— cleaning up the mess, fixing the lights, plumbing, even mowing the lawn and painting the fence. You had no idea where they got the supplies from, and when you asked Travis, he just winked.

Percy was having a blast with the water, Annabeth had to calm him down.

May wept once more, this time from overwhelming happiness. Her home wasn't the same as before, but it's getting there. It'll be better with time, like her.

She managed to gain composure after a while, and thanked all of you for coming.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything to offer right now." She says, mustering a smile. "But if you need assistance, don't hesitate to come over."

As you all drove off, you could hear the neighbors complain about missing cleaning house supplies. Annabeth turns to your brother with a frown.

"Travis!"

"What? We needed it!"

Chiron was pleased to see how it turned out. Due to your initiative, he proposed an idea. Every fallen demigod must be honored, not only by burial rites, but their mortal families shall receive visitations and gifts if they choose to accept it.

The program is ongoing, and he specifically asked you to handle it.

Wow, too much work with no pay but okay.

May occasionally gives you and your siblings gifts and generously welcomes demigods in need, offering them food and shelter during their missions. She even entrusted you with a baby picture of Luke, a cherished keepsake among your belongings.

Then one night, Hermes visited you in your dreams. You've met him before, but this time he seem different. Happier. At peace.

He expresses his gratitude, and offered you anything you wanted.

"I want to punch you. Not as a god, as a human."

You expected him to smite you on the spot, but Hermes just laughs in amusement and agrees.

When you swung, you transferred all your pent-up emotions into your fist. It landed squarely on his perfect jaw, and you couldn’t help but smirk as he fell to the ground.

"You're stronger than I thought." He says.

"Well, I had to be."

Hermes’ smile falters at your words, and awkward silence followed.

"He's happy, dearest. Luke… He's in Elysium with the others."

Unfazed by the bruise forming on his jaw, he presses a kiss on your head.

“He's fine now. And you will be too.”

“I know.”

The next day, you woke up with the biggest smile on your face, gloating that you got to punch Hermes himself.

You're pretty sure that most of your siblings are now praying to him for the exact same thing.

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader "Discovered" Mature/Drabble [2]

FNAF | William Afton (stepdad!) x (f) Reader | MATURE Summary: Imagine: Your mom had to find out eventually. This is how.

AN: These drabbles are in no particular order and not necessarily related. But they are all Stepdad!WilliamAfton x !StepdaughterReader Universe. This could follow up on Christmas Present and Pregnant (See Masterlist->FNAF->Stepdad William ) Warnings: talk about dub-con/taboo relationship, Explicit sexual content, keeping it a secret, angst, drama, William being evil/Dark!William, Manipulative William.

The sunlight caught the subtle movement of your swollen belly as you scrolled through your phone, perched on the edge of the couch. You didn't notice it, but your mom did. The little foot that brushed past the skin you so desperately tried to hide from her.

Her eyes narrowed and she strode toward you, hands shaking. In one swift motion, she yanked up your loose-fitting tunic, exposing your rounded stomach. The tiny foot clearly visible and destroying any hope of lying that you were just getting fatter.

"I knew it," she hissed, her voice laced with anger and disbelief. "You're pregnant. It's undeniable now."

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and guilt swirled within you. You had known that you couldn’t hide it forever, but your stepdad had made you bite your tongue time after time again. Don’t tell her anything. Lie. I’m not the father.

“How long?” Your mom asked you angrily, tears started to roll down her cheeks. Her own pregnant tummy, a bit rounder than yours, was jutted forward, into your vision, reminding you once again of how your stepdad played you both.

“How long have you known? How long did you try to keep this hidden from me?” She didn’t sound angry but upset, broken, betrayed. It broke your heart to hear. Her child, her pregnancy, was talked about like a trophy. A miracle baby. Whilst yours…

You bit your lip. Stupid hormones. You wanted to cry, crawl away and hide. Where was your stepdad when you needed him? When all shit hit the fan?

"Mom, I didn't know until the doctor told me," you whispered, a bold lie, trying to keep your voice steady. "Remember the doctor's appointment? The one you had insisted I’d go to because I kept getting sick, throwing up a lot?"

Her face turned red. “So you knew since then,” she deduced and you decided to bite your tongue. You had known you were pregnant long before your mom found out about her pregnancy. Even if your due dates were nearly identical. Your stepdad had been too eager to have you pee on a stick and stake his claim, reminding you of the seed he planted inside of you ever since. You couldn’t forget for a single day that you were carrying his child. It was as if he got even hornier now that you were pregnant with his baby. You caried the bruises to prove it.

But luckily, your mom was too upset to see through your lie, too distraught to question it further.

"Who is the father?" she demanded, the words sharp as knives. She needed answers; she needed to know who had done this to you.

You hesitated. Your stepfather had told you to never reveal the secret. But could you carry it for much longer? What if you outed him? Would it tear your family apart?

Your heart hammered in your chest as you struggled to find the words, but before you could speak, the door creaked open. William Afton, your stepdad, entered the room. His calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your mother's fury. He instantly caught onto the tension in the room and his blue eyes slid from your mother to you and back again.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his eyes slicing through the tension in the room like a knife.

"My daughter is pregnant!" your mom cried, tears streaming down her face. "And she won't tell me who the father is!"

For a moment, an emotion flickered across William's face – something raw and dark. But he hid it quickly, composing himself before turning to you, playing along with your mother's accusations.

"Is that so?” he murmured, and you wished you could slap him across the face because – what a bastard!

“Who was it?" he demanded, a stern edge in his voice.

You stammered, unwilling to reveal the truth, "I-I don't want to answer that."

You could see the look in those blue eyes, as if he silently complimented you for being a good girl. His demeanor, however, was the opposite.

In a swift motion, William jerked your phone from your hands, hurling it across the room where it collided with the wall. The screen cracked, shattering into a spiderweb of broken glass.

“Did you sleep around?” The question surprised you. He knew you hadn’t slept with anyone else. “Did you whore yourself to any of those frat boys?”

He accused you of sleeping around with boys from school? His voice was cold and cutting.

"Answer me!" he pressed, leaning in closer – too close for comfort.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you choked out a lie, "I can't remember."

His gaze bore into you, and you felt like a trapped animal, cornered by the very man who had done this to you. But you couldn't let him see the fear that clenched your insides like a vise. You had to stay strong, even as your world crumbled around you.

"Must've been one of those wild nights, huh?" William sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Lied to us about visiting your friend Patty and went partying instead. Got drunk, didn't you?"

Your mom gasped, her eyes wide with shock as she turned to you. "Is that true? Why would you do something like this?"

She placed a hand on her own pregnant belly, the silent reminder cutting through you like a knife – both of you carrying the same man's child. It was sickening, twisted, and every time you thought about it, bile crept up your throat.

"Answer your mother," William commanded, his voice cold and hard like ice. But words refused to form on your trembling lips, your mind a whirlwind of torment and fear.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and stinging, blurring your vision. Your mother's own tears mirrored yours, her heartache as raw as your own. You wanted to scream, to tell her the truth, but the weight of your secret bound you, choking you silent.

"Get out of our sight!" William barked, his anger barely contained. "You're upsetting your mother! This is the last thing she needs during her pregnancy!"

And you? Your pregnancy?

Your legs felt weak, your body trembling as you stumbled to your room, desperate for refuge from the nightmare that had become your life. The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you off from the world – and leaving you alone with your thoughts, your shame, and your ever-growing horror at what you'd been forced into.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed, hands trembling in your lap. The sound of a knock at the door made you flinch, your breath hitching in your throat as fear gripped you. You expected William, ready to torment you further, and mentally prepared yourself to face him.

But it was your mother who stepped into the room, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen from tears. Relief washed over you, but the reality of your situation still kept you tense.

"Can you forgive me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She sat beside you on the bed, her hand gently resting on your tummy. "I'm upset, but I love you. You’re my kid. Carrying her own kid. It is… a lot to take in."

If only she knew the full extent of it, you thought. How would she react to it? Would it kill her to know? Perhaps William had been right and you should keep your mouth shut.

“I mean, I hadn’t thought to see you pregnant so soon. Perhaps in a few more years once you were older, enjoyed life a bit, settled down with a nice boy.” She played with your hear, smiling weakly but genuinely at you. “I am your mom. I just want what is best for you.”

“I know, Mom,” you whispered, feeling possibly even worse now that your mother was this honest and sweet with you.

“Seems like we’re both going to be moms. That will be a weird experience,” she said, chuckling. “Weird, but wonderful. I am sure.”

You carefully glanced at her. You could feel the weight of her concern, the heaviness of her touch as she acknowledged the life growing inside of you.

"If I had known before," she continued, her voice cracking, "I wouldn't have asked you to do any heavy lifting."

"Mom..." you choked out, your own tears threatening to spill again.

"I won't ask about the dad," she said firmly, her gaze locked with yours, seeking understanding and forgiveness. "That's your secret to keep."

She leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You clung to her, letting the warmth and love of your mother's hug wrap around you like a protective shield.

She believed the lie, you realized. She believed you had been foolish enough to sleep with a boy, unprotected and intoxicated. And she believed you had gotten pregnant from some random boy from school.

If only that would have been the case. Then at least you could have had yourself to blame.

As you held each other, thoughts of William's behavior swirled in your mind – his urgency to keep his fatherhood a secret, throwing you under the bus like this. Anger bubbled up inside you, a burning rage that threatened to consume you. How could he do this to you? To your mother?

"Let me cook something for us," your mother murmured, breaking the silence. "A light meal, something delicious," her hand stroked gently past your tummy, feeling a tiny foot or hand press back. She let out a startled laugh. “For us and for our little ones, all right?’

She offered a small, reassuring smile before leaving your room, granting you a moment of solitude to gather your thoughts.

Your hands clenched into fists, the rage inside you growing stronger. William had manipulated everyone, and he was getting away with it. But you wouldn't let him win. No matter what it took, you would break free from his twisted grip on your life.

You couldn't afford to waste any time; you needed to find a way to escape William's control. But how? What would be the best way now that he had you cornered. There was your mom to consider, and her child. Your baby brother or sister - now that was a weird thought.

But there was also you. You were a lot weaker now that you were pregnant. Easily tired. Plus, you had to think of the little life you carried inside of you. You had no job and not enough money saved to survive on your own for a while.

A sudden creak from the doorway made you jump. Tearing you out of your vicious thoughts, it was him. William stood there, his blue eyes locked on you, that familiar sinister smile creeping across his face.

"Your mother's going to be busy for a while," he murmured, closing the door behind him and striding towards you with purpose.

Panic surged through you as he grabbed your arm, yanking you to the edge of the bed. "We have a bit of time," he whispered, fingers tugging at your pants, pulling them down in haste.

"Daddy, please," you begged, but your words fell on deaf ears.

"Shh," he hushed, pushing himself inside you without warning. You gasped, a mixture of pain and unwanted pleasure coursing through you. His cock was already rock hard and he wasted no time in starting to rut inside of you. He’d been like this for a while now, fucking you whenever he got the chance. Even during such dangerous moments as these, when your mom was nearby and could walk in any moment.

Yet, he managed to get away with it each time.

"Such a good girl," he purred, hands gripping your hips tightly as he moved within you. "You handled everything so well."

His breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Tears pricked your eyes, but you kept them at bay, focusing on the twisted need in his voice. Your pussy pulsed around him, begging him for his cum as your own climax edged near.

"Promise me you'll be my good girl, won't you?" he whispered, his thrusts reaching a fevered pace. “Promise me, you’ll be a good girl for Dad. Keep his secret. Hmm?”

"Y-yes," you choked out, unable to resist his demands. Your heart pounded as you neared the edge, the room spinning as your climax approached.

"Good," he growled, releasing his grip on your hips as you both reached the peak together.

As you lay there, panting and exhausted, he pulled away, satisfied. But the moment he turned his back, determination flooded through you. This couldn't continue – you had to get away from him. Escape. Find freedom.

And you would do whatever it took.

~

AN: For more, follow me (:

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[judeable-brainrot]

A House in Nebraska (song fic inspired by Ethel Cain (mother))

Cowboy!Art Donaldson x Cowboy!Patrick Zweig | this is a really angsty thing but i’m back in my Ethel Cain era so let me live my life..enjoy!😝

Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long | When the aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song | You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl | We had nothing except each other, you were my whole world

Patrick and Art had always had a peculiar relationship compared to most other men on the ranch. They did ever job assigned as one, making ever endeavour a two person job. They slept in the same cabin, in the same room, in the same bed. And while they garnered funny looks and whispers from the other cowboys and ranch hands, one quick glare from Patrick was enough to silence any actual comments. Other men in the same cabin knew that they were not to disturb their room, no matter what distressing or stomach flipping sounds were heard from the other side of the door. Little would they ever know how deeply they actually felt for one another.

Usually during late nights, they would both lay together in the dark, the light of the moon slipping through the window over their bare bodies. They lay there in each other's arms, breathing in the still western air. No words were spoken, no moans or whimpers or pleas. Just a easy silence blanketed over the both of them as they dreamed and imagined life outside of the hills and plains of Nebraska. A world for just the two of them

Then the day came and you were up and gone | Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours

But of course, nothing lasts forever. Eventually, due to a pressure of a promotion and the homophobic environment taking its toll, Art was gone. Left early one morning, no goodbye, no note left behind. Patrick awoke cold and alone and without his home. Sure, the cabin was still standing, but his real home was gone with the wind and he never knew if he would come back to house him. He cried for days, not leaving his bed. He locked the door so the other ranch hands wouldn't barge in to bother him. He lay there miserable, thinking of all their moments together.

Nights together where they felt like the only two people alive. Their first meeting where Patrick made Art laugh so hard and he swore then and there he would hear that laugh everyday for the rest of his life. The last night they were together making love and Art said that if someone barged in and found them out, at least he would die devoted to Patrick. He'd never cum so hard in his life than when he heard those words. And now he was here.

Your mama calls me sometimes to see if I'm doing well | And I'd lie to her and say that I'm doing fine | When, really, I'd kill myself to hold you one more time | And it hurts to miss you, but it's worse to know that I'm the reason you won't come home

Patrick got a few calls from Art's mother, asking where he was, how he was. That meant he hadn't gone home to New Rochelle. He was gone, truly. She asked how he was doing and Patrick would lie and say he was doing good, work keeping him busy. But that was all a facade. He was miserable and every night when he returned to that empty, cold bed, he felt the thought of taking his own life well up so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.

He would sleep but all he could dream of was a vast expanse of field where he stood alone calling Art's name for hours. He felt responsible, like he had driven Art away somehow. He replayed every last interaction, conversation, touch, searching for anything that would help him understand why he had left. But there was nothing. It made him sick.

You know, I still wait at the edge of town | Praying straight to God that maybe you'll come back around | I cry every day and the bottles make it worse | 'Cause you were the only one I was never scared to tell I hurt

Patrick would often ride his mare to the top of the tallest hill in the valley and sit there for hours, the wind whipping against his skin. He would sit there and pray for Art's return, hoping that being so high up would make God answer his prayer quicker. He doesn’t. Patrick turns to drinking, the next best option for drowning his sorrows, but that too isn’t helpful. It’s painful. He gets drunk and imagines Art is there, cooing into his ear to be safe, not get too drunk. His hands on his body, soothing and soft and gentle. Patrick cries every time. He sobs into the pillow that used to be Art’s and whispers all his pain into it, like he used to do with Art. Art was the only one who knew his pain.

And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night | But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright

It’s close to 3 months when it hits Patrick one day. The sorrowful peace. Art’s never coming back to him. And he feels..better. Okay. A piece of his heart is always going to be missing without him, always. But all he can do is get on with his life and hope that Art is doing alright, wherever he ended up. Hope that he knows that he still loves him no matter what. Hope that he knows that even despite how lonely and broken he’s become, he’s still devoted to him until the reaper catches up to him. Maybe then, he’ll see him again.

[moodymelanist]

Professor cassian and student nesta smut?

hope you don't mind that it's just ~roleplay~

accepting kinktober prompts all october long! any acotar couples i've written for are fair game (not just nessian, although I certainly love wrting those freaks getting freaky)

Cassian had asked Nesta to give him a few minutes to set their office up for today’s game, which mostly involved putting one of their dining room chairs in front of his desk and making sure the curtains were firmly shut.

The neighbors certainly didn’t need to catch a glimpse of whatever was going to happen in here.

There wasn’t really much else for him to do other than twiddle his thumbs, so Cassian took a seat behind his desk. Just as he got comfortable, a knock sounded on the door, and he didn’t fight his smile at Nesta’s punctuality. He’d said ten minutes, and that was exactly what she’d given him.

"Come in," Cassian called. He pretended to shuffle some papers around just for something to do with his hands as his girlfriend opened the door, and then he was gripping the pages so tightly he half-worried he was going to rip something.

Nesta had gone for the stereotypical schoolgirl outfit, complete with a white buttoned-up shirt, tiny plaid skirt, and even a little matching plaid tie. Her legs looked long and muscular and Cassian wanted them wrapped around him even more than usual, which was saying something.

"Professor," Nesta greeted him after a moment, leaning against the doorframe with an innocent look on her face. Her skirt was so short it was a miracle he couldn't see her underwear. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Cassian took a deep breath so he wouldn't lose it right there. "Yes, I did. Have a seat, Miss Archeron."

"Okay." Nesta closed the door behind her and slid into the chair facing his desk. "Did I do something wrong, sir?"

"You failed your last test," he told her, running with the first thing that popped into his brain. She'd graduated summa cum laude from both undergrad and law school, so it was probably the first time she'd ever heard the words before. "At the rate you're going, you won't pass my class."

"Oh no," she replied with overexaggerated concern. To really sell it, she gave him a little frown and added, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"

"At this point?” he answered, pretending to think about it for a few seconds before releasing a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure there’s anything to be done.”

"I need this class to graduate, sir,” Nesta said pleadingly. She leaned forward and shifted her weight onto her elbows, the motion stretching her already-tight shirt nearly to the point of no return. “Is there really nothing I can do?”

“Well…” he trailed off with another sigh. “I suppose there might be an opportunity for extra credit.”

“I’ll do anything,” she told him, her eyes going big and pleading. He loved her when she was all sharp edges, but he wouldn’t lie — this was really doing it for him, too. “Please?”

“This has to stay between us, Miss Archeron,” he responded. “I can’t have the other students finding out about any… preferential treatment. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed quickly. “I’m good at keeping my mouth full — I mean, shut.”

“Is that so?” Cassian asked, smirking. He’d mostly been thinking about bending her over the desk and fucking her until she cried, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity she’d handed him. “Why don’t you come over here and prove it?”

Nesta got out of her chair and slowly walked around the corner of the desk, giving Cassian more than enough time to appreciate how beautiful she was. She’d left her hair down for once instead of her usual coronet, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was so he could dig his hands in while he fucked her face.

She was thoughtful like that. It was one of the many reasons why he loved her.

“How do you want me, sir?” Nesta asked, coming to a stop right next to him.

Cassian turned in his chair so he was facing her, pressing one of his hands to her bare thigh. Her skin was soft and a little cool as usual, and right on cue, she shivered at the heat pouring off him. “On your knees.”

He inhaled sharply as she sunk to her knees, somehow managing not to break eye contact as she reached for the zipper on his pants. He couldn’t help his groan as she took him out of his pants and gave him a quick stroke, and when she ran her thumb across the head he couldn’t help another, louder groan.

“How bad do you want to pass, sweetheart?” Cassian asked, his cock hard and hot in her hand.

“A lot, sir,” Nesta answered. She blinked up at him before letting go of his cock so she could unbutton her shirt, revealing a dark red bra that emphasized the perfect size of her breasts. “Can I show you?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching out to gather her hair into a messy ponytail. “If you do a good enough job… maybe you’ll pass my class after all.”

“Anything for an A,” she replied. She pulled his pants down lower for better access and returned her hand to his cock with a smirk of her own. “Sir.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he retorted, pulling her head closer to his cock. “Why don’t you focus on getting a D, yeah? That’s a passing grade, isn’t it?”

Nesta rolled her eyes at his joke but opened her mouth to suck Cassian down anyway. She gave him a few tentative bobs of her head before she took more of him, and he groaned at the feeling of all that wet heat surrounding his cock. “Fuck, that’s it.”

“So fucking gorgeous,” Cassian murmured, enraptured. He couldn’t look away from the obscene stretch of Nesta’s lips around his cock, and he sank back into his chair as she worked him like the pro that she was. “Love watching you, sweetheart.”

Nesta could take most of him, but what she couldn’t reach with her mouth and throat, she was more than happy to make up for with her hands. She wrapped one around the base of her cock and timed her strokes to the bob of her head, and it didn’t take long before Cassian was practically putty in her hands.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” Cassian panted, tightening his grip on Nesta’s hair. “So beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”

Nesta couldn’t speak, but that didn’t stop her from showing her approval. She moaned around his cock and the vibration made him buck into her mouth.

“Yeah? You like hearing how good you look sucking my cock?” he said, groaning when she whined as best she could with most of her mouth full. “Course you do. Pretty thing like you needs her mouth stuffed, doesn’t she?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she reached up to fondle his balls with her free hand, and the simmering heat in his gut went supernova.

Cassian abandoned any semblance of control as he widened his stance and started fucking into her mouth. Her eyes went a little wide and started watering, but she didn’t dare look away from him. If anything, she gave him the green light when he felt her other hand creep down to join the one already playing with his balls.

“God, Nesta, don’t stop,” Cassian grunted, a little crazed with the way his cock looked going in and out of her mouth. “Fuck, that’s a good girl, gonna fill up that perfect little throat—”

Cassian held Nesta’s head in place as he came down her throat, thrusting into her mouth with a few short, jerky pumps of his hips as pleasure rocked through him. He didn’t let up until she smacked his thigh three times in a row, their signal for when she needed to breathe, and then she was pulling herself off his cock with a slightly dazed look on her face.

“Jesus, that was hot,” Cassian said once he could think straight again. He released his tight grip on Nesta’s hair and gently ran his hands through it, trying to sort out some of the tangles he’d caused without hurting her. “You’re an A+ student in my book, sweetheart. Was that okay for you?”

Nesta nuzzled her cheek into his thigh and looked up at him with a sweet smile. She was floating a little bit, and it made him melt that she trusted him enough to let go like this. “Mhmm. Better than okay.”

“Okay,” he replied with a smile of his own. He reached down and hauled her into his lap, ignoring the way his cock twitched at having her so close. “Come on. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised

[atlasscrumpit]

(Yandere?) moon Boys with an Reader who has an demon inside of her (like enchantress, from dc)

Where the Demon Resides

Why did you like this life?

Everything about it was wrong, but...you felt so safe and cared for.

You didn't want anything to take you away from them, but you knew she would be getting restless.

Especially being under the rule of a human with mental illness.

"You okay, baby? You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders." Marc said as you snapped out of your deep thoughts and looked beside at him.

"Sorry..." You muttered as he looked at you with worry.

"It's okay, what's wrong?" He asked resting his hand on your knee.

You couldn't help but start to bite at your nails, showing vulnerability and nervousness.

Suddenly you got up and backed away.

"I-I'm gonna take a nap." You muttered before rushing off to bed.

Marc was worried but he decided it was best to let you go for now.

--

Marc went to go check on you an hour later, his heart nearly stopped when he saw the bed empty.

He was sitting on the couch the whole time and didn't even hear a noise.

"Marc... Did someone take her?" Steven asked nervously before Marc summoned the suit.

This was a big city, and it would be impossible to find you, but a few weeks ago Marc had done something he wasn't too proud of.

He'd implanted a chip into your neck to make sure he always knew where you were.

He set out on a mission to find you, he saw you weren't too far from the apartment.

When he made it there he found you in an alleyway covered in blood and curled up in the corner, crying.

"Shit, baby!" Marc shouted as the suit retracted and he ran towards you.

"No! Stay away! Please." You cried out as he stopped and didn't come closer.

"Baby, it's okay. I'm here." Marc said as you began to sob.

"I don't want her to hurt you." You cried as he looked at you in confusion.

"Who? Who did this to you, doll?" He asked, cautiously coming closer and kneeling onto the ground.

"I should've told you, I didn't want to lie. I would never lie, I want to be good for you, always." You rambled away as Marc looked at you sadly.

"Deep breaths, love." He said as you nodded and tried to level your breathing.

"There's an evil spirit that possesses my body. The last few months she's been quiet, but now she's back and I know she'll try to hurt you." You whispered as Marc looked at you in shock.

That definitely wasn't what he'd expected.

Marc realised he had been silent for far too long.

"Marc?" You questioned as he reached forward and helped you stand up.

He kept hold of your hand as you both stood up.

"We're going to get through this together, sweetheart." He said before your head was thrown back and you gasped, it was similar to how Marc changed with Jake or Steven.

"You must really like this little slut, huh?"

Marc looked at you in shock, your voice was deeper and your eyes a different colour.

"How long have you possessed her?" Marc growled before she chuckled. She grabbed him and plunged her dagger into his side.

You screamed and fell to the floor, taking control once more before Marc ripped the dagger out and let the suit form to heal himself.

"You have to kill me, please." You whispered as you began to cry hopelessly.

"No, sweetheart. It's okay, forgive me." Marc whispered before kneeling again, he smiled before knocking you against the head, rendering you unconscious.

--

All you could hear was screaming, your body felt as though it was burning.

You finally came to and realised it was you screaming.

You looked up to see a dark figure above you, your body collapsed and you began to cry from the pain.

"Shh, mi amor." A voice said as you sobbed with relief.

"Jake!" You shouted, trying leap up to hug him but you were restrained.

He gently ran his hand over your cheek as you sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay my sweet angel. She won't be in your mind ever again after this. No more pain." He whispered as you looked at him with confusion.

"I'm scared, what's happening?" You whispered as he leant down and kissed your forehead.

"Be strong for me." He whispered before the burning pain began again.

You screamed and saw Jake disappear from your vision.

The pain was unbearable, you thanked your mind for putting you to sleep.

--

"Love? Are you with me?"

A voice startled you awake from your slumber.

"Stevie." You whispered hearing him chuckle softly and hold you tightly in his arms.

You knew you were curled up in bed with his, it was so comfortable and warm.

"I'm right here, darling girl." He said as you groaned and looked up at him.

"What happened?" You asked as Steven brushed his hand through your hair.

"We had some friends help, but we got rid of the spirit that was within you. She can't ever hurt you again." He replied as you looked at him in shock.

"She's...gone?" You muttered as Steven nodded.

You could barely comprehend anything.

"Sweetheart, stop thinking so much. You don't need to think, just rest. Focus on me." Steven said as you nodded and cuddled into him.

Maybe it was best to just focus on Steven and the warmth he gave you.

"It's just us now, love."

[lcnelyday]

suvi,

i never thought i would hear from you again. none of us did. part of me feels silly asking why i was the one you chose to reach out to. obviously it wouldn't be mum, but if someone told me that we would all hear from you again, i would assume it would be kasper. he hurt you the least. i suppose the twin thing never really goes away though, does it?

it's hard to admit but i have thought of you many times in the last ten years. you were impossible to find until you weren't. and now you're impossible to ignore. my daughter alora reads your comics. she is very excited for this show of yours coming out, as is my wife. i am really proud of the fact that you stuck to your guns. i would love to have seen the look on mum's face when she heard the news about your show.

i suppose it's more polite if i tell you how i've been, since you were so kind to offer your own little update. i got married pretty quickly after you left, found the love of my life, sarah. we have two kids, alora and henrik. alora is an artist, which is appropriate since she was named after you. sarah got me into therapy when she was pregnant with alora, which helped me sort through and try to understand what kind of childhood we had been given. apparently, it was abusive and not normal. when sarah got pregnant with henrik, we decided to follow in your footsteps, cutting ties with mum and kasper. i hear they are both doing well, as well as you can living in a haunted house. kasper still sends me an email update every six months or so. i don't reply.

i was awful to you. i know that, and i don't even want to apologize in a letter. it won't count the same as if i told you in person. it's unforgivable, and i know we were both traumatized and manipulated, but you never seemed to let it touch you, and i was always so mad about that. envious i suppose. you deserved more, you deserved the brother who grew up alongside you. i know you never would have done that to me, had the roles been reversed. i am sorry we wouldn't let you come to dad's funeral. i'll never let you forgive me for that one, so don't even think about it. i know you well enough to have justified that move a million ways in your head. i saved some of his ashes for you, but i think it's illegal to mail human remains so.

i hope this guy landon is as good as you said he was. i can't believe you are engaged. and with a baby on the way. i cried the moment i read about it. it sounds like you found someone who really loves you, who really brings you peace. i am sorry we could never do that for you. i won't be like her, you know that right? you'll never be like her. that was why she hated you so much. you never reacted how she would have, and that scared the ever living shit out of her.

i don't want to overwhelm you, but if you ever want to meet up again, sarah and i are more than interested. we'll come to you, or you can come to us. or we can meet somewhere in the middle. i don't know. i've added a couple of pictures of the kids, i am so sorry you missed so much of their lives already. alora is nearly eleven. i know your comics aren't geared to her age, but she really is just like you. looks like you even. and henrik, fuck, he is just like kasper. i wonder how i ended up with two kids and neither of them are like me at all. henrik is eight, and he's a good fucking kid. smarter than all get out and kinder even still.

you're going to love sarah. you'd probably steal her from me if you had been around. she has a theory about the detective in your comics, the one that is being turned into a show. she thinks that he is based on landon, but i said that landon isn't a detective. and she laughed at me. actually laughed at me. said that kassandra nilsson (nice by the way, i appreciate it) was in love with the detective long before they got together in the comics, which is her guess for you and landon. even if it is true, can you lie and say it's not so i am not horribly embarrassed that my wife knows more about my sister than i do?

i really have missed you, vi. i can't even begin to explain how much i have grieved our relationship. i hope to hear from you again soon. i've also added my phone number, if you'd like to call and talk to the kids. alora has an instagram account, she is only allowed to share art, but she asked that i pass on her username, she follows you. i love you, suvi.

all my love, nilsson (@wynterlanding)

[the-13th-rose]

Whump prompt series for April - Day 2: "Get some rest"

Whumpee: General Grievous (Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Based on the 2008 Clone Wars series as well as my fic "The Witch & the War Machine".

"General!" Asajj Ventress snapped. "Snap out of it!"

Grievous came back to his senses in a disorienting jolt. He shook his head for a moment, as though his exhaustion could be simply shaken loose and dislodged.

Asajj sighed. "Tell me you heard even some part of that briefing."

...Oh.

"...Of course," Asajj muttered. "I'm surprised he didn't seem to notice." She turned to face him. "I know you always seem to be tired, but I've never seen you like this before. ...Are you sure you're fit for this mission?"

"...What?" Grievous replied, eyes narrowed.

"I know," Asajj said. "It's not concern. Or, it's concern for whether we'll be defeated again."

Grievous sighed. "I am not...too 'tired' to fight. Or to command."

Ventress slightly arched one brow as she met his gaze. A split second later, she retrieved one of her lightsabers and took a wild swing at him.

Grievous staggered back, just barely out of her reach. He stared at her for a moment, bewildered, then thought to arm himself as well.

"Put your toys away," Ventress said, deactivating her lightsaber and replacing it upon her belt. "I was testing you. And from our sparring matches, I know you should have blocked that swing without needing to dodge. But you barely avoided it to begin with. How do you expect to survive on the battlefield like this?"

Grievous deactivated his sabers and put them away as well. "That was reckless," he scolded.

"So is facing the enemy head-on while you're sleepwalking," she retorted. "Go get some rest. I can do this alone much better than I could while having to watch your back."

"...Don't be a fool," Grievous scoffed. "If you think my absence will go unnoticed--"

"Your exhaustion being the sole cause of our defeat would be far more noticeable," Ventress continued. "Do you know what he'd do?" She paused, and turned her gaze to the floor. "...Of course you know."

"And if he finds out?"

"He won't," she insisted. "Not if I'm the one making the lie." Ventress took a step toward him. "I'm not asking. I'm ordering. And it doesn't matter to me one bit that you outrank me."

He wanted to protest further, but his body suddenly began to feel very heavy. He staggered again, and heard Ventress remark, "If you collapse here, it might be easier to explain."

"No," he relented. "I'll go."

Ventress watched Grievous turn and leave, still staggering occasionally as he went. She called out to one of the MagnaGuard droids standing by. "You--follow him. Make sure he actually gets to his quarters," she commanded.

The droid nodded once and left the room.

...

Grievous awoke gradually, as though the galaxy was slowly fading back in around him. When he was back in his own body without the added weight of severe sleep deprivation, he happened to glance up and catch sight of Ventress standing by in his quarters.

"I told you I could handle it alone," she said, turning to meet his gaze. "I didn't expect you to sleep for an entire two days, but I kept my word."

"Two days?!" Grievous cried, nearly choking on the astonishment and coughing as Ventress continued her story.

"As far as Dooku knows, you came down with a severe respiratory infection and were ordered to rest for a few days by the medical droid," she said. "The mission itself took longer than expected. I only just got back. I think Kenobi was surprised not to see you."

"You should probably get back to Dooku," she continued. "Before he thinks to contact the medic directly. As for me...I'm going to bed. Hopefully not for as long as you."

Grievous stood up and met her at the doorway. "...Thank you," he said softly.

"Don't mention it," Ventress replied. "Seriously, don't. I don't want to be reminded of how nice I've been to you lately."

Day 2 - Complete!

[gukkiebunny]

TW: suicide, heavy suicidal ideation (don't worry, I'm fine, just venting a bit)

I finally talked to someone about jonghyun's death. I'm in a discord server and not many of my friends in said server know about or have much interest in kpop, I learned thursday night/early friday morning that one friend likes kpop (or at the very least shinee and snsd), but a different friend asked me last night who my pfp on discord was. I told her who, and she asked me about him.

I explained to her that if she wanted to search him, to be warned for mentions of death due to his passing. she asked me how and I said "'twas self inflicted" (trying to be lighthearted). I moved to dm's (we were talking in among us ghost chat before) and explained to her that he had struggled with depression and his attempts to get help for it weren't taken very seriously. While googling him she found his note.

I then talked about his music and how he was an advocate for mental health and LGBTQ+ rights in korea, and she asked me for song recs. I gave her a few for SHINee as a group, then at least one solo song from each member.

I won't lie, I was shaking while typing everything out to her. It's been nearly impossible for me to talk about his death aside from acknowledging that he is, in fact, deceased. To be completely honest, his death broke me. I'm sure if I'd had access to pills other than melatonin, I would've ended up in either a psych ward or a grave at the age of 16. I cried 5 separate times that day, and took 80mg of melatonin because all I wanted to do was sleep; part of me hoped it was all a dream and if I took enough pills I'd wake up and he'd still be alive. When I'd go outside to cry so as to not worry my mom and sibling, all that would run through my mind was "how quickly would I die if I fell from the third floor of my building?" "maybe if I die now I'll be able to meet him" "nothing matters anymore, I just want to see him at least once". these weren't even intrusive thoughts. I genuinely wanted to die. It took a few weeks for me to come out of this pit, for me to realize he wouldn't have wanted that. I know he would've been so sad and disappointed if I, in the afterlife, told him that I killed myself so I could finally meet him and tell him how much he meant (and still means) to me.

I still feel drawn to his music when I'm not doing very well mentally. As early as 2015 his music was the sole thing keeping me from breaking down when my grandmother had a major stroke. I would listen to every song on BASE multiple times on the way to and from the hospital. When I have suicidal thoughts, even passive ideation, they're chased away with the single statement "he wouldn't want you to die". I know it sounds silly, he never even knew of my existence, but I feel in my heart of hearts that he would want me to live, and get the help he couldn't, and thrive. So even if I can't get help yet, I live, because he would want me to.

[troybarnesbabygirlconfirmed]

1. Are you named after anyone?

i was named after NOT A PERSON, but an attribute? it's supposed to mean strength or like crown of thorns or something???? my parents use it against me every single day of my life

2. When was the last time you cried?

it was yesterday and it was very aesthetically pleasing tbh. i was sitting alone in a dangerous area and crying on a bench

3. Do you have kids?

all my followers (my pookies) and no i dont have kids? i simply do not have enough play to lock someone down long enough

4. Do u use sarcasm a lot?

... i do

5. What is the first thing you notice about people?

i can usually tell if a person's quiet or loud just by looking at them, even before i see them (i guess body language contributes so it's not like im special or anything LABDOWHSJ)

6. What color are your eyes?

they are green! my mom is still convinced they're blue though. poor woman.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

i cannot watch a scary movie for the life of me. it has to be a happy ending. my best friend took me to see halloween and i started violently sobbing and she had to cover me with her jacket so i couldn't see

8. Any special talents?

kinda!

• i have beaten whole countries at subway surfers (world tour)

• i have thousands of wins in gamepigeon anagrams

• i write not well, but really REALLY fast

• i am told i give really great advice, also that im weirdly talented at stand up

• that's it sorry for being pretentious

9. Where were you born?

new jersey! i don't live there anymore, don't worry!

10. What are your hobbies?

i sing a lot! im on two people's albums which is cool. studio singing is kinda scary though, i won't lie. i prefer live. also i love acting, in case you can't tell. i also love drinking fruity little drinks and writing fanfic. i like drinking fruity little drinks and writing fanfics WHILE drinking those fruity little drinks, too.

11. Do you have any pets?

im allergic to nearly everything, so no :

12. What sports do I do?

tennis!!!!!!

13. How tall are you?

i am five foot five!!!..

14. Favorite subject in school??

i can fuck up a good legal studies course, but i think my favorite is public speaking

15. Dream job?

dream job is an actress, obviously. but i really do love being in pre-law and i would love to be a lawyer, which is what im trying to be.

okay, tagging people now!!!!!!!

@soupza @troyandabedaremycomfort @apple-juice-lover-official @thecoatofagoat @lucanator3000 @angriestpossum @stardustto-dust @doppel-dean-er @girlmeat

my brain is dead and i can’t think of more people to tag but YEAH! you don’t have to do it i think it’s fun

15 questions 15 people

answer the questions and tag 15 people! thank u brody @walkingmouth

1. are you named after anyone?

yeah!! first name after a movie star and middle name after my aunt ^^

2. when was the last time you cried?

earlier today i cried a little bit bc my big sister was leaving after visiting us!

3. do you have kids?

not yet but i really want them in teh future!!

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

yes in a jokey way w people im close to haha

5. what is the first thing you notice about people?

hmm idk!! if theyre nice ig lol

6. what color are your eyes?

blue-gray!

7. scary movies or happy endings?

both!!!

8. any special talents?

not really lmao

9. where were you born?

america unfortunately.

10. what are your hobbies?

drawing, writing fanfiction

11. do you have any pets?

2 cats!

12. what sports do you/have you played

none

13. how tall are you?

5'8” i think??.

14. favorite subjects in school?

none i do not like school

15. dream job?

piercer and child therapist. yes both.

tagging: @clandeztine @offtheheezayy @austinwehaveaproblem @mostlytins @daddymikeyway @deesaster @dxzys @h0use-of-w0lves @pagesixlovers @peterpansexual19 @p1ckthep01son @lj-girlie @untitledrockshow @littletroubledgrrrl @teenytinydancer34

[mlchaelwheeler]

Even if Mike meant everything he said to El, the whole monologue stems from a lie. The one thing (all the stuff about the painting and El etc) that encouraged him to confess his feelings wasn't even true lol. Now he thinks that El "needs" him, when she doesn't. It's funny bc Will is the only reason why he said anything to El. I'm just curious about it because I wonder if it will come back and bite them in a way. At the same time though I'm still really mad at the writing when it comes to Mike.

I totally agree. They completely failed Mike this season in every possible way. They had him ignore Will (his best friend for 10 years) for no reason, realize he "loves" El only after she gets her powers back, and not even be able to tell El his feelings until Will begs him to do so.

The whole monologue is full of lies, which is so funny because mi|even's whole relationship is also built on lies. Both Mike and El have been constantly lying to each other since they got together in S3, even with "friends don't lie" being Mike's key phrase.

The line from Mike's monologue that stuck out to me the most was "I feel like my life didn't begin until the day I met you. I knew I loved you then and there." Like???? He had the audacity to say that lie while sitting right next to Will? The same boy who went missing that day and was trapped in the upside down and hunted by monsters for a week?? Furthermore, it was certainly not love at first sight. Mike plans to send El away the morning after he finds her, basically because she's getting in the way of his plans to find Will. After she shows that she has superpowers, Mike lets her stay, but tells Lucas that they need her as a weapon to fight whatever took Will. He says, "do you really want to face the demogorgan with your wrist rocket?" How is any of this love at first sight? When El took Mike to the quarry and he saw Will's "body," he slapped El's hand away, yelled at her, and left her without a way back to his house. That certainly doesn't seem like love to me, but idk. 🤪

Everything Mike said just doesn't make sense with his character arc. He's afraid El won't need him anymore? That he's replaceable? And this is after she writes him nearly everyday, then cries and begs him to tell her that he loves her. He didn't feel needed then? Not when he had absolutely no reason to not say it back (if his monologue is true, which, we know it isnt)?

What was the "truth" Mike was afraid to tell El? That he loves her?? That's exactly what she wanted to hear. Why couldn't he say it when she needed him the most? Then he can conveniently say it when she's on death's door, has her powers back, and may not even be able to hear him??

Mike didn't show any romantic interest in El when she was without her powers. The kiss at the end of S3, his confused expression after she told him he loves her, his fake california demeanor, and being unable to say he loves her when she's sobbing and begging him to. It's only when she got her powers back that Mike could be convinced to tell her his feelings. This just makes him look like an absolute asshole for no reason.

Why was a character with such potential in S1-2 completely massacred in vol 2? Why did his whole character arc become being "El's boyfriend"? What happened to main character Mike who would do anything for his friends? This isn't the Mike who sat on El's bed while she sobbed about his lack of feelings. This isn't the Mike who ignored Will sobbing next to him in the van. And this certainly isn't the Mike who cruelly stated in front of Will that the day Will went missing is when his own life began.

[megsironthrone]

Meg's Game of Tales: Tale 15

*Familiar Characters are NEVER mine! The original story of "Rapunzel" was written by The Brothers Grimm.*

Warnings: Rapunzel AU, angst-ish, a little fluff

Pairings: Prince!Jaime Lannister x fem!reader

This hunt was not going as planned. Not at all. Not only had Jaime not caught anything, but he'd gotten hurt in the process. It just wasn't a good day. The only thing Jaime was looking forward to now was getting home, getting clean, and collapsing in bed. That was the thought that kept him pressing forward. But then? He heard it. A voice calling out.

"Y/N! Y/N! Let down your hair!" Jaime followed the sound of the voice and came upon a tower. At the bottom of a tower was an older looking woman, but that wasn't what caught Jaime's attention. it was what the old woman was climbing. It wasn't a ladder or a rope. No. It was…hair?! Jaime's gaze followed the hair up and, as expected it was attached to the head of a woman. A beautiful woman. Well, from what he could see from a distance anyway.

How had Jaime not seen this tower before? He hunted in these woods all the time. Jaime watched until the two figures disappeared from view. Jaime had always been the curious sort of man, so the need to know more welled up in his chest and it took everything in him to stay away from the tower. If the younger woman was trapped up there, it wasn't safe for him to approach while the older woman was there. So, he left, determined to come back the next day when hopefully, the younger woman would be alone and safe.

The next day, Jaime was out early, heading toward the tower. He got there quickly, hiding in the bushes until the older woman was gone. As soon as she was out of sight, Jaime ran up and called out the same phrase he'd heard her call out the day before. "Y/N! Y/N! Let down your hair!" It took a moment, but soon the voluminous length of hair came cascading out of the window of the tower.

Wasting no time, Jaime began to climb. His arms and legs burned with the effort, but his curiosity was piqued and he couldn't go back now. He had to meet the woman at the top of the tower. Who was she? Why was she there? Would she ever want to leave? Was the old woman kind to her? All these questions fueled Jaime's climb until he finally made it to the top and swung into the window.

"W-Who are you?" Jaime glanced up to see a pair of beautiful eyes staring back at him in fear and wonder. You were more beautiful up close. "I think the better question is who are you and why are you in this tower?" You arched a brow. "That's two questions. And you're the one who climbed into MY home. Now, who are you?" Jaime held his hands up in gesture of surrender.

"Jaime. My name is Jaime. I-I saw your tower yesterday and heard the old woman call out to you. I had to know more." You let out a scoff and shook your head. "Mother says the outside world is cruel and vicious. The tower keeps me safe" Jaime nodded. "She's right about that. But I mean you no harm. I swear." You regarded him with distrust. "I don't think I believe you." Jaime chuckled. You were smart. "Perhaps I could sit with you a while? We can talk and maybe then you'll trust me." After a moment of thought, you nodded slowly in agreement.

*time skip*

"Y/N! Let down your hair!" Jaime called out. He'd been coming to see you every day for weeks now. At one point, he'd nearly been caught by your mother. That day you'd been frightened and told him to stay away. He hadn't of course, but you were slowly growing to trust him. It was his favorite part of the day, getting to see you.

Despite being locked up in a door less tower your entire life, you were very intelligent. You could sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. Jaime couldn't hide the fact that he was a prince from you for very long. You were also very sweet, but had a temper that Jaime admired. You rarely showed it, but when you did, you could scare the most fierce creatures. The only thing that bothered Jaime, truly bothered him really, was that you seemed content to never leave your tower. You wanted adventure, but you didn't want to leave your mother.

As Jaime climbed your hair once more, he went through his argument in his head. He was going to try and get you to talk to your mother about leaving the tower for good. It couldn't be healthy being locked away all the time, could it? Jaime didn't expect what was going to happen.

"Hello, Y/N!" Jaime greeted as he climbed in the window. He looked up only to be met with the face of your mother. She looked livid. "Who are you?! How did you find this place?! Did he send you?!" Jaime glanced at you in confusion. "He? Who are you speaking of?" Your mother relaxed a little, but only a little.

"Does anyone know you're here?" she asked and Jaime shook his head. She smiled. "Good. Then no one will know what I'm going to do to you." A crack of lightening sounded over heard, causing Jaime's brows to furrow. It had been sunny when he climbed in a moment before. He glanced out the window to see rows and rows of thorns springing up from the ground.

"MOTHER NO!" you cried. Jaime spun around to see that your mother was about to push him from the window. "Please, Mother, don't! Jaime is my friend. I-I think I love him." Your mother whirled around and Jaime's eyes widened. "Do you even know him?" You nodded sheepishly. "He's been coming every day for many weeks now. I'm sorry I did not tell you. I didn't want to lose him. Or you."

Your mother approached you. "Y/N, darling, how can you trust him? I've told the outside world is a horrible place. I'm the only one who can protect you." Jaime's brows came together as he processed what was being said. "Protect her from what? Surely there can't be an actual threat on the life of someone so kind and lovable. Can there?" Your mother let out a sigh.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you now. I'm not your real mother, Y/N. Your real mother charged me with caring and protecting you when you were only a child. I was to keep you safe until she reached out to me. But then she died and the threat to you grew worse."

"I ask again, threat from what?" Jaime asked. He wasn't one to draw out stories longer than necessary. That was more Tyrion's expertise. The woman rolled her eyes, but continued on, "The threat from Lord Gregor Clegane," she stated before turning back to you, "Your brother."

"M-My brother?" She nodded. "I know Gregor. He's a monster," Jaime stated, "Your mother was right to send you away. I'd forgotten there was a third sibling. After Gregor held Sandor's face over the fire, the third child was said to have disappeared. Some said she was murdered by Gregor for trying to tell people the truth about what happened instead of the story the late Lord Clegane told."

You looked between Jaime and the woman you knew as your mother in disbelief. "I'm a lady? Like…a trueborn lady?" They both nodded. "That's why I've kept you here. For your own good." You nodded, but Jaime wasn't having it anymore. You had said you thought you loved him. He wasn't sure anything would come of that love if you were stuck in the tower for the rest of your life or Gregor's.

"She doesn't have to stay in the tower. It's true Gregor is still alive, but I doubt he would recognize either of you. And even if he did, you would be safe. Your brother Sandor is still alive as well. He lives in the castle as part of the guard. You would be protected and safe anywhere you went. I swear it."

Your mother immediately began to protest while your eyes were glued to Jaime's again. For a moment, the two of you stared at each other while your mother droned on in the background. After a bit, you spoke again. "No, Mother. I won't stay here," you said, turning to her and taking her hands in yours, "I love you. Very much. I know you want to protect me, but I need to be out of this tower to discover this new part of who I am and if Jaime says he can keep me safe, I trust him. He hasn't broke a promise to me yet. Please, Mother. Let's leave this place together."

The older woman turned to Jaime and in a stern voice asked, "Can you keep your promise? Will you keep her safe?" Jaime nodded without hesitation. While he wasn't sure if he loved you romantically, he did have a love for you. He always protected those he loved. She stared into his eyes the same way you always did when you were trying to figure out if he was lying or not.

"Very well. You have my blessing. I will return to my former cottage, but you two will go to the castle and enjoy life together. If you ever have need of me, you will know where to find me." With that, she placed a kiss to your forehead and nodded to Jaime. She waved her hand to cause the thorns to disappear.

Using your hair, she left the tower to return to her cottage. Jaime followed her down and waited for you at the bottom. You gripped tight to the hair that was going to be your way to freedom. Taking a deep breath, you began lowering yourself from the tower for the first and only time, ready to start a new adventure.

(a/n: That's our 15th tale! Only 3 more to go, plus 2nd parts for "A Hound-Shaped Helm" and "Three Days".)

[forthechubbies]

Mrs. Jeon Vol 3

Synopsis• One nightstand gone Marriage!? The past catches up with Yn when her head over heels husband finds his lost bride and will keep her by any means necessary.

Category's•Violent Thoughts, Hostel Behavior, Nsfw (Later), and Bratty Jungkook.

Duos• Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Vol 1, 2, 3, 4,

What’s going on down there? It sounds restlessly calm. You could hear muffled voices but nothing more; you aren't too keen on testing your luck and sneak into the corridor to eavesdrop on their conversation. Pretty sure the door is locked anyway.

Instead, You took note of the confined walls surrounding you. A typical master bedroom accessorized an earthy decor, cute mini-plants placed in various room areas, two tiny pet turtles in a tank constructed into a giant wooden bookshelf.

Speaking of books, talk about books galore. The shelved books had little to no wiggle room aside from the one empty slot belonging to the open novel on the nightstand. The owner won’t mind you partaking in one quick gander-

“Ah!” You gasp, fixing your eyes on your newly treated ankle. For a minute, you just about forgot this crazy abducted situation your in. The bedsprings dip as you flop back into the spot where Jimin left you. Jimin was the man you fell on during your first attempt at freedom; he was even generous enough to bandage with utmost care.

A kind gesture a particular bunny wasn’t too thrilled on seeing, Jungkook's face soured while watching Jimin’s filthy little womanizing hands caressing the delicate soft plushy skin of his carrot’s legs.

Son of a bitch trying to cop a feel on his wife, Jimin’s flirtatious persona, led him out to be a well-known heartthrob but often seen as a gigolo through certain people's point of view and, frankly, Jungkook's wife won't be a victim of the Jimin Effect.

Crash!

The smash of a glass object-making contact with the hard marble kitchen floor snatched Jimin’s and your attention giving it to the irritable bunny who’s psychotically enthusiastic about testing his progress in strength by snapping his hyung’s neck-

Oh, no, his carrot looks frightened-He shouldn't do such a brutal act of love with his wife nearby; her poor innocent heart might shatter. No violence...At least for the time being.

Next thing you know, Jungkook's face lightened up, and even when Jimin bit his head off for breaking one of Jin’s fancy dinnerware, his facial expression persisted undaunted. Jungkook kept a serene masquerade, but through closer observation, he clenched his jaw at Jimin’s hand on cradling the small of his wife’s back, guiding her into hiding in the upper part of the house for a reason unknown.

Jungkook let Jimin take you no-fuss included, Hence, Your encaged situation. For all, you know, The men were downstairs plotting a far-flung strategy to murder you making it look like a battle of defense.

Though, You were more occupied by another Crack for the floor down below. ” Ahh!” You cried out, falling back on the bed once again.

Meanwhile, Downstairs.

”Stop! Breaking Hyung’s plates, or we're both as good as dead!” Jimin growled. ”Quit avoiding the question! Who the hell is that woman!? Did you hurt her!? Why-!” Jimin asked Jungkook until his cheeks burned a reddish hue, and his neck veins were dominant.

In one swift breath, Jungkook responded. “ She’s Mrs.Jeon. My wife.”

Jimin knew his maknae had a few loose screws in his head, but this is getting out of hand.

”Wife?! Do you know how old you are!? Kook, You just turn twenty-three-”

”So What.” Jungkook interrupted. ”You want me to wait until I’m an ancient fart like Hyung to get married.”

”Pffft.” Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line suppressing his need to laugh. ”Ahem, respect your elders-You little brat.”

Amidst the brothers at each other's throats, another member of the maknae line awakened from his mid-morning nap; drowsy eyed Kim Taehyung waddled upstairs to check up on his Hyung living in the room above him.

He could have sworn a faint scream is what he heard-Well; there's no harm in checking.

You jumped at the squeaky hinges of the door opening. Wait, it was unlocked!? Expecting the uninvited visitor to be Jungkook, You raised a pillow over your head, ready to be hurled-to your amazement; it was a completely different man.

A long-haired male with long chocolate locks kept at bay by a beige headband; his attire was disarray. His tank top hung off his shoulder, slightly creased in his pajama pant’s waistband.

Adorable, to say the least, the poor thing’s eyes weren’t even fully open yet, the pretty pink pout of his lips nearly forced an” Aw” from yours.

”Who are you?” He grumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

Sweet mother of deep, He stood a few feet away, but the raspiness and depth of his voice caused your insides to start quivering.

”I’m-I’m the sand fairy.” You choked out, fluttering the tips of your fingers as if spreading magic dust. ” I'm here to ensure all your dreams are sweet. ”

You nibbled your lip nervously, hoping he takes the bait. He yawned in response dragging his exhausted body across the room to you; he halts. You gulped, staring up at him; you felt like a mouse about to pounce on by a tiger.

”H-H-I!” You yelped.

The man took no real investment in your fib; instead, he decided to reap the benefits of how soft and plushy you are by laying his head on your bare thighs. He wiggled in place to reach maximum comfort.

”Ah.” He moaned, falling back to sleep.

Oh, dear.

………

The sound of the hyung’s arrival made the two maknae gulp.

First in the door was Hoseok, hands full grocery bags ” Come help! Quick, save the ice cream if it isn't soup by now.”

Namjoon followed behind. ” I told Jin not to get the ice cream first-He knows how he gets with his coupons.”

”The worst part is he got upset when we told him that's enough food then told to stay in the car.” Yoongi stretched out the pins and needles feeling in his limbs.

”You may say that's enough now, but when that brat comes, he's going to eat us out of house and home!” Jin scolded, unconsciously fetching the rest of the bags.

Jin froze, staring at Jungkook, helping put the food in the correct places. He didn't hesitate to smother his baby boy in a hug, but right after, he jabbed Jungkook's gut.

”Oof!” Jungkook doubled over, gripping his chest. ” I missed you too,” He coughed.

Jin stood tall. ” And there's plenty more where that came from once Hoseok gets his hands on you.”

Anyone but Hoseok.

” I heard Jk!” Hoseok rushed Jungkook a bear hug. ” Thank goodness you're alright!” He jabbed in his Jungkook's gut. ” Where the hell have you been?!”

Jungkook groaned. ” Ou-Ouch..I won't be able to tell you if I keep getting hit.” He cleared his throat. ”America.”

”America!” The hyungs blared out.

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. ” What possessed you to go there on your own? Have you forgotten what you are?”

Jungkook sighed. “ I know, I know, but I just envy normal people around my age having the freedom to go wherever they want.”

“ But you’re not," Yoongi brutally minced Jungkook’s sob story. He’s not particularly fond of beating around the bush, especially when dealing with his brothers earlier this afternoon. “ Unlike ‘normal’ twenty-year-olds, you are adored by army who would be upset if anything happened to you.”

Jungkook bowed his head in shame; the thought of army never really crossed his mind.

“And-“ Yoongi continued. “ There are crazies in every country, so what made you think heading off on your own would be alright!?”

“Why America?” Namjoon’s brow jumped as the gears in his head began to turn. “ Out of all the beautiful places we visited-You chose the U.S? What was there that you had to leave without an explanation?”

Namjoon stared at Jungkook’s eyes not in a malicious sense, just a habit when trying to figure out a solution or, in this case, a missing clue to the reason his little brother hopped up and left.

“Twinkats (Twinkies),” Jimin laughed nervously. “ I bet his suitcase is full of them.”

Sadly, Jimin’s fairy charm wouldn’t work this time. Jungkook is drowning in deep waters, and there’s no salvage coming for miles; at this rate, Jungkook had two options: tell the truth, orrrr, run away with his loving wife in his arms.

Not gonna lie; Jungkook leaned towards the second option, but the fates had another plan.

”Hyung! Hyung! Namjoon-Hyungie!!” Taehyung screamed bloody murder, sprinting downstairs minus jumping the last five steps. ” Her ankle is purple!”

Taehyung paused, breathing heavily in front of the kitchen where the interrogation is being held, accompanied by a woman injured cradled in his arms, more worried about him dropping than her throbbing ankle.

Taehyung had the room’s undivided attention, and Jungkook’s enviousness scowl; his wife was clinging on to another man like a baby koala to its mother but had it been him, she would scratch his eyes out.

Let's not mention the fact! It seems like she's only wearing a shirt, and guess who the owner is, not him!

” Who-”

”What-”

”Why”

” How!?”

Before getting into details about the hyung's reaction to their new houseguest, let's first take a detour to Prince Taehyung mini rescue adventure.

A good hour in, Taehyung woke up from the best nap of his life to beautiful damsel sniffles and tears. The sweetheart asked what was wrong and nodded as the damsel explained, coming to realize she was in distress. Prince Taehyung aided the beauty with new clothes and tied a red ribbon into her hair….beacause he thought it would look pretty (Shrugs).

However, her ankle injury required a different source of help, so who else to ask but his favorite Hyung? But he couldn't find Yoongi in his room, so he decided to ask Namjoon instead.

Back to the original story

Taehyung explains the truth unconsciously, throwing his little brother under the bus.

Jin’s eye twitched as he peered at Jungkook, who was attempting to slip out of the kitchen. ” You little sh-!”

Let's just say Jin didn't nearly beat Jungkook almost half to death with a rice paddle while shouting numerous insults to bruise a thousand men’s pride in a second.

It went silent after Jin banished Jungkook to the beach house a few feet from the house until he wanted to see his face again. Namjoon took it upon himself to introduce the gang.

You politely shared a warm hello but wished nothing more to go home.

[cblgblog]

Imagine Mildolyn, "Illicit Affair", Modern AU. Where Gwen's campaigning for Congress and all the meet and greets, showing up for charities for publicity, her 'cause'. At one for special needs children and their foundation she meets a very young CNA named Mildred and sort of falls head over heels in the dumbest of ways, both just love struck. Except she's campaigning to be in Congress, she's a politician, she cannot be queer and chasing after 19 year old ex-foster kids whos brothers are set to be the youngest executed on Death Row in California in decades for appalling crimes. But there she is, in hotel rooms her supporters pay for, with someone she shouldn't be with, trying to find ways to overturn cases that turned stomachs with their brutality, because a pretty girl smiled at her and called her 'ma'am' while showing her around the foundation/care home she worked at with children no one else had the time/patience to care for. Of course it goes terribly with 'dirty little secret' vibes, the breast cancer diagnosis announced on twitter before she tells Mildred in person, even if it's such a minor case ('so they say') and caught so early that it'll barely leave a scar, radiation won't be much of a deal at all. She doesn't get to tell Mildred that, she just gets to hear on Fox news about how the democrat's gonna die a horrible death and panic.

Mildred who has no patience for politicians and their fake concern, using patients as photo ops. It’s manipulative, it’s distracting to the staff, it’s awful, okay, she hates it. She is, in fact, a tad bit rude to Gwen when they meet. Gets her a death glare from Betsy Bucket, gets Gwen intrigued.

“Republican?” only half-joking.

“No.”

“Is it the suit? Should I have worn a different suit? I wanted to, but I’ve been told this one tested better.”

“The suit is fine.” It’s more than that, actually, but Mildred will not be saying that aloud, nope, uh-uh. “I don’t much care for politicians.”

“Ah, we have that in common then.”

“I doubt we have much of anything in common. Ma’am.”

And look, Gwen doesn’t usually go in for the chasing, the hard to get. She’s got enough trouble chasing votes. But this woman is so good with the kids on her ward, so patient. She’s got Disney scrubs on and as much as she’s got no time at all for Gwen, she seems to have infinite amounts for those kids. She stays with them individually, longer than any of the other staff Gwen sees, but she still manages to get a dozen things done in half as many minutes. And she’s also gorgeous, there’s that.

And Gwen has no good reason to ask her out for lunch. Honestly, none. Nothing good can come from this. Mildred asks if the citizens of California will be paying for this meal and Gwen swears that isn’t the case, no, absolutely not. Even still, Gwen doesn’t expect Mildred to say yes. She doesn’t think Mildred expected Mildred to say yes.

But she does. Tells herself it’s for Edmund, maybe this’ll be the one politician who listens, who’s willing to look past the surface facts, willing to help. Except she gets there and they don’t talk about Edmund. It’s not because Mildred doesn’t know how to bring it up, she’s made her case dozens of times. She just…they don’t talk about him, and that feels like a betrayal, but Gwen’s kind and funny and fascinating (much to Mildred’s annoyance), and she just…doesn’t feel like getting into it.

Meanwhile Trevor, Gwen’s campaign manager/law school buddy/best friend/lavender marriage soulmate, if they were in a different time, is like bitch, what’re you doing? Yes, everyone knows you’re gay as hell, but you can’t be chasing girls right now, you can’t afford to be distracted. You especially can’t afford to look distracted. And you can’t be robbing the cradle while looking distracted.

“She’s not that young.”

“Uh-huh. She wears Winnie the Pooh clothes.”

“Scrubs, those are scrubs. Scrubs aren’t clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She works in a children’s ward, Trevor.”

“Uh-huh. I really wish you wouldn’t do this, but since you care nothing about me and my mental state and all the hours and hours of hard work I’ve put in for you—”

“After badgering me into hiring you over someone more qualified.”

“Hey! More qualified. I resent that. Anyway, if you insist on ruining my day, at least wear that face cream I gave you. Should make you look less like you’re robbing the cradle.”

“Go to hell.”

“And don’t do the oyster thing. Not on a first date, in the middle of the campaign.”

“It’s not a date, it’s just lunch.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gwen doesn’t do the oyster thing. Not on the first date, which neither of them acknowledge as a date, for entirely different reasons. But then there’s a second and a third, and sex, lots of sex, and it’s harder to pass off as just friendly.

And yeah, the sneaking around that Gwen hates. That Mildred says she doesn’t mind, and she actually doesn’t seem to all that much, which Gwen finds slightly concerning. Mildred’s good with secrets though, she’s good with being kept a secret. Mostly. Which again, Gwen finds concerning.

There’s pillow talk and Mildred admitting more about herself than she has to anyone, ever. Which still isn’t nearly as much as what Gwen admits, but it’s a relative thing. And still, Mildred doesn’t talk about Edmund. Gwen finds that one out on her own, stumbles across some old photos, a scrapbook of Edmund’s crimes. Gwen’s briefly concerned that Mildred is one of those people who’re deeply attracted to serial killers, but the truth is…something else.

Mildred tells her things. Some of the deeper, darker stuff, but not much, not yet. Tells her how she’s written to everyone she can think of because he’s a boy, okay? He was in an impossible situation, they both were, no one ever helped them, so Edmund decided he had to die. No one helped them before, no one helps them now. There’s anger and tears and Gwen holding her and she can’t help asking why Mildred didn’t talk to her sooner, if she’s had no problem asking for help from strangers.

“Because you aren’t,” Mildred says in a way that makes it clear she’s figuring this stuff out as she says it. “A stranger, you aren’t. You never were and I couldn’t…I didn’t want to become one to you. I didn’t want you to look at me like that.”

“Oh Mildred…”

Mildred doesn’t actually ask her to help. She doesn’t want Gwen to think that’s what it’s all been about. It was supposed to be, but it isn’t. She doesn’t ask. Gwen digs into things herself, digs into this kid who was barely double-digits when he did these things. Made all the headlines at the time, but that was over a decade ago, he’s been locked up ever since. Most of Mildred’s money goes to him, one way or another.

Gwen hides it from Trevor—the murderer, not the sex, he knew about the sex before she ever said anything—for as log as she can. But he’s always been nosy, and now he has a paid excuse to be nosy, and he nearly has an aneurysm when he hears why it is that Gwen’s suddenly digging into this case instead of kissing the babies of gay couples, like she should be.

Gwen cannot do this. Nope, absolute no. She cannot be sneaking around with the younger sister of the kid they’ve made all the documentaries about. Doesn’t matter that she’s running on a platform of prison reform, especially as it pertains to juveniles, this is not the case to start with, especially when she hasn’t won yet.

And Gwen knows. She knows. She argues with Trevor about it until he decides they both need to stop because Gwen has a speaking engagement tomorrow and she can’t sound hoarse. There are many further arguments, arguments about principles over politics, but Gwen knows he’s right. She cannot, should not, be doing any of this, at least not yet. It’s dangerous, it’s selfish, Mildred deserves better than being someone’s secret again. Gwen should break it off, at least until the election. She’s not being fair to either of them like this. They should stop, at least for a few months.

Except it’s Mildred and she’s totally hijacked Gwen’s everything, and the thought of stopping makes her ill, and everything about this is terrifying, the most terrifying thing ever.

And then there’s the checkup and the routine mammogram. Gwen started those earlier than most because somebody’s aunt on somebody’s side of the family got sick, somebody’s cousin on the other side did too.

Scratch that, there’s a new winner for most terrifying thing ever.

It’s good, they say. She started early, they caught it early, this is good, they have treatments for this. Good, they say, while Gwen damn near passes out. She’s got a campaign to finish, she can see the Too Sick to Serve headlines already. A bald look would not test well, she’s sure it wouldn’t. She talks to Trevor about that, about the campaign, until he tells her to shut the fuck up, yanks her into a crushing hug. He cries, damn him, and that makes her cry.

She’s glad he’s there.

She wishes Mildred was.

She is also relieved as hell that Mildred isn’t, that they’re on opposite sides of the state right now. No point having Mildred see her like this, having her worry. She’s got enough to worry about, enough to hurt about.

Not that Gwen isn’t planning to tell her. She is. It’s only been a few whirlwind months, but Gwen knows enough to realize that a lie of omission would be a bad, bad, bad idea where Mildred’s concerned, regardless of intention. Gwen doesn’t think of hiding it anyway, not really. Mildred deserves better then that. When and how to tell the public…that’s a completely different clusterfuck of a situation, but Mildred, Gwen just wants to tell her in person. That way Mildred can see her face when she promises it’s no big deal (hopefully without seeing how terrified she actually is), and Gwen will have all the paperwork and things she knows Mildred will want to see, and they can hold each other, and it’s just, it’s not phone call news.

Except then it’s headline news, because somehow it’s leaked. Fox News is having a field day, certain corners of the Internet are already gleefully writing her obituary, and she’s missed literally hundreds of calls by the time she gets a look at her phone. At least half of those are from Mildred. Mildred who actually sounds hysterical for the first time since Gwen’s known her, that bastard on the news with the hair, he says you’re dying, why aren’t you answering, how long have you known, please, please pick up the phone, just pick up the phone god dammit.

She’s managed to keep Mildred a secret for months. This? This doesn’t last three days before it’s everywhere. Gwen does get an I love you for the first time ever, but seeing as Mildred’s sobbing over her voicemail when it happens, the joy is somewhat muted.

[cantteachanoldguardnewquotes]

Febuwhump Day 14 Can't Go Home

Warnings: temporary character death, exhile

Quynh woke, confused and unsure about what was going on. She had died, she was sure she had died. She stood, wondering if this was a dream, her friends lay dead around her, she couldn't be sure how many of the one's that had attacked them had lived but if there were any survivors they were gone now. 

She wept for the lose, and dreaded having to go home and tell them they had lost so many.

She couldn't carry very much back, all the horses had run off or been taken and she would have to make it back on foot. She only took her bow and her bag that still had a little food in it.

It was lonely and long, but she followed the river all the way back home.

Kieu spotted her first, ran to her and gave her a hug.

She wept again. "It's only me, I'm the only one who survived."

Kieu shushed her gently. "You need food and rest first, then you can tell us everything."

She had not slept for very long before they were waking her and bringing her before their clan leader, Trai.

She told them all how they were attacked while hunting and that no one had survived, but her.

"And how is it you managed to get away without even a scratch on you?" Trai asked suspicion in his voice.

"I- I'm not sure, I fought as well as I could against the attackers and was knocked unconscious, I don't remember anything after that until I woke up and came home." She did not dare tell anyone she was sure she had died and come back, she didn't want anyone to think she was mad.

"If you were knocked unconscious how is it you don't have a scratch on you from the battle or from the fall? Did you truly fight alongside your clan?" 

"Of course! I would never abandon my family!"

"I always thought highly of you Quynh, but it is clear to me you are a coward and a liar. It is impossible for you to have fought and come away with nothing to show for it. You should be ashamed of yourself!" 

"That's- I would never lie to you! Every word I've spoken has been the truth!" She was shocked by the turn this conversation had taken, her heart was already broken by what had happened she couldn't lose her clan's trust on top of it.

"There is no way that what you say is true when you don't have a bruise let alone a scratch on you, I ask again how do you explain this?" 

"I can not explain what happened, I only ask that you believe what I say is true. I fought with honor and nearly to the death." 

"I'm tired of these lies. Perhaps if you had been truthful it wouldn't have come to this, you will be imprisoned until you come clean on the matter." 

She knew even if she lied and told him what he wanted to hear that her family would never think highly of her again and she wouldn't blame them in the slightest, it was shameful to turn your back on your clan.

"Wait, wait. I... will show you how I came home without a scratch on me." She hadn't wanted it to come to this, she was still trying to figure out how this was even happening to her, but she had discovered her healing powers on her trek home and had tested it several times. She drew the dagger she always kept at her side and before anyone could do anything she drew it across her palm, the deep wound bled for only a moment before it closed itself off without even a scar. "This is how I came to be without a scratch on me." 

Trai stared at her in horror. "You have made a deal with a demon!"

"No!" Quynh cried out trying desperately to make him understand. "I don't know how this happened it wasn't through any doing of my own!" 

"You will leave here and never return! We want no part in this! I banish you!" 

Quynh fought back tears, this was her home, the only thing she knew, how could he tell her to leave all that she loved behind? "Please Trai, please, don't make me go." 

"You will leave now! I won't hear another word!"

Quynh looked around desperately for anyone to take her side and stand up for her, but they all looked just as horrified. 

She didn't know what to do, who to turn to, she ran, ran as fast as her legs would take her, she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone. She ran and ran until her lungs could take no more and her legs were near collapsing. She collapsed in a heap under a tree and wept until she was sure she didn't have a drop of water left in her. She could never go home again and that loss left an ache so deep she knew it would never go away.