#i used to be really angry at my grandmother but now i just feel bad for her

[luthwhore]

oh dang you were a Jehovah Witness? that must have been tough growing up

it was... something for sure. my grandmother raised me and she converted when i was about eight or nine, as did most of her sisters and my great grandmother. i was very invested in it as a kid, mostly because i was the sort of kid who REALLY wanted to impress adults and JW meetings are very participation-based.

my grandmother was very restrictive growing up, both in terms of who i was allowed to hang out with and the media i was allowed to engage with, so i wasn't allow to read harry potter or watch buffy the vampire slayer, for example, bc jehovah's witnesses are very big on not engaging with anything "satanic" or "demonic" which... includes basically anything with magic, or anything that could be a "stumbling block to your faith." (that was a phrase i heard a LOT growing up.)

i also wasn't allowed to hang out with non-jehovah's witnesses outside of school, but because my grandfathr wasn't a jehovah's witness, none of the other witness kids were allowed to come over to my house, so i didn't really have a lot of close friends until i was in my teens.

somewhere around 8th grade i started to question, for... a lot of reasons, but i was sort of back and forth between pulling away and sticking with it for a few years until i was about 15-16. jehovah's witnesses are VERY big on 1) not dating anyone outside who doesn't share the same faith as you, 2) not dating until you're ready for marriage, and 3) not even being alone with a member of the opposite sex that you're nor married to. and i wanted to date a boy from my high school and i wanted to play dungeons and dragons and i slowly just stopped going to the JW meetings, despite my grandmother clearly being unhappy with it.

the elders at my grandmother's congregation had also taken me aside and lectured me about how i shouldn't be dating which. at the time was very heavy and made me feel awful and did not make me want to go back.

my grandmother eventually gave me an ultimatum that i had to either go back to the meetings with her or formally disassociate myself, which is A Big Deal because if you disassociate yourself, other jehovah's witnessess are supposed to shun you (including your family members). i guess she thought that i would fall in line if she did this, but i ended up disassociating myself instead.

you'd think that would be the reason my grandmother and i have little to no contact now, but she was willing to break the rules for a while in the hopes that i would repent and return to the fold. the thing that actually made her go no contact with me was me coming out as gay.

i actually know for a fact that another family member of mine hasn't come out yet almost exclusively bc they know that it will destroy their relationship with her. and it sucks bc i'm 100% sure if it wasn't for the shitty cult she's fully bought into, i don't think she would actually care that much.

anyway if you ever want to know more about jehovah's witnesses, the website jwfacts.org is super informative and breaks down everything from doctrine to history to organizational scandals. knowing better on youtube also has one of the most well-researched and accurate videos about JWs i've ever seen from someone who was never part of the religion and i would HIGHLY recommend it if you want a good overview of the history and beliefs.

[hey-op-just-kill-me]

…

[mcflymemes]

CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.

who says i want somebody to be in love with me?

i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.

fuck me because you want to.

are you gonna do it or not?

tastes even better than it looks.

i just told you i missed you.

i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.

you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.

decimate that little bitch.

let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.

you're not a spring chicken anymore.

dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.

how's this feeling?

we're ready for you.

so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.

you choked.

i don't want you to embarrass yourself.

i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.

get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.

i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.

you said we could watch a movie.

you're evil.

i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.

sir, i don't know who you are.

i don't think we have much more to talk about.

i haven't spoken to you in five years.

i was just taking a little nap.

move, or i'm calling the cops.

you were really something back then, huh?

we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.

i'm a crazy person.

any predictions about how that's going to go?

can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?

shut the fuck up.

if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.

i need it to look like i really beat you.

don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.

she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.

you were... fucking incredible.

baby, we've got to get going.

i'm not going to that party.

are you that threatened by me?

we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.

i'd let her fuck me with a racket.

hey, do you smoke?

of course they will remember you.

see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.

you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.

are you on facebook?

i told you tennis was boring.

you just got this crazy look on your face.

are you on a date?

i don't kiss and tell.

why did you want to have dinner with me?

i think you might be the worst friend in the world.

i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.

of course you still have a thing for her.

we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.

i fucked your brains out?

what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?

you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.

excuse me for inconveniencing you.

don't expect to sleep here tonight.

stop going easy on me.

i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.

i need you here, actually.

you're referring to when i declared my love for you.

you're not in love with me anymore?

i've been dreaming about this for five years.

i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?

i'm finally ready to listen to you.

how dare you fucking ask me that.

do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?

that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.

i've always wanted you.

you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.

i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.

do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?

you've never beaten me.

tell me it doesn't matter.

will you just hold me?

i'm not here to fuck you.

i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.

[rederiswrites]

Alright, I've got to get the gripes out. Doesn't mean you have to read it. If you love the game you probably shouldn't. This is for people who are really disappointed or angry about...things and would like to feel like they're not alone.

This is not about the absolute value of Veilguard. I enjoyed the game and I am, if anything, enjoying it more on the second playthrough. Like all the other installations, inevitably it is its own thing. Some franchises are just logical continuations of their previous installments, but Dragon Age has never been like that and I sure wouldn't expect it after this long since the last installment.

[Edited to add that I reblog locked it but 100% encourage sharing your feelings in the replies or even my dms. It's fine to talk about it! I want to talk about it!]

That said, my biggest gripes about Veilguard:

The sanitizing of the Crows

Come on now. I even defended you, Bioware! Before the game, I said, nahhhh they won't make the Crows Good Guys just because of Lucanis! Lucanis was tortured too! Well, they didn't do that, I guess. They did it as part of a much larger pattern of ironing out the moral grey areas the franchise was formerly known for.

The Crows are Patriots! Well, they are. And also, though you wouldn't know it, slavers and torturers and murderers of children. You'd be forgiven for not realizing that, considering the creation of the feel good House for orphans who really wanna be contract killers. But it is pretty foundational lore and all. There is the like, one previous Crow character, whom they wrote as going on a righteous mission to kill Crows, because of the whole them being bad thing.

What was being raised by the head of the Crows like, Lucanis? Torture? Hahaha funny oh you mean literally. Literally your grandmother tortured and starved you and never gave you the slightest choice in your life and you've accepted that because you accept the logic that it was necessary. But again. That's based on my knowledge of material outside this game.

Any previous game would have reveled in that! Do you ally yourself with these people, this objectively bad organization full of people who don't see themselves as bad at all? Because they are very good at killing, and that's what you need! But this game just makes them good guys. No moral dilemma needed. Nope, we like black and white now.

And speaking of which,

The dehumanization of the Antaam

Ew. Ew ew ew.

Gimme a minute and I'll come up with something better to say but seriously? Ew.

They neither look nor sound like any of the other qunari characters. They sound like animals, literally. Exactly once does one make the slightest attempt to do anything but attack you--and then he attacks you anyway. Not a single one deserts. I guess the lesson here is that apparently qunari really do become mindless beasts without the structure and discipline of the Qun??? Ew. No thank you.

I know, you gotta have faceless mooks. In Inquisition we fought rebel mages for absolutely no good reason but that they attacked us. In da2 thugs literally fell from the sky. But the absolutely comprehensive way in which the Antaam never spoke for themselves, as actual people... Wow.

Imagine. Imagine if we could have actually negotiated an agreement with a group of them, for that final battle. Would that have been so impossible? To fight mages?! Imagine if we'd had a former Antaam companion. Imagine if he'd been mulling over what the Arishok, Sten, the OG proof that qunari are NOT animals outside the Qun, said before the Antaam rebelled.

Mythal: basically a nice mother goddess!

What. What. What.

In this, the culmination of her sins, the finale of Solas' millennia of taking the blame for shit she set in motion, Mythal is... Flat as hell. Millennia of her scheming. Surviving. Using and abusing her children, arguably using and abusing Solas, seducing and manipulating and whatever it takes to nudge things her way. And now she's just... Kinda imperious I guess? And Morrigan just has her memories and nothing is bad about that ever. Huh.

The thing is, I was never against Mythal, in all her complex nastiness. We didn't know what her game was! I just wanted to know! What made it all worth it? What was the plan?

Well I guess the plan was--nothing? Don't worry about it. I guess.

Side note, the design work on the Mythal fragment was some Computer Animation Is My Passion, early 2000's Barbie straight to VHS looking shit. Profoundly disappointing. Did you even try.

Tell, don't show

Is the strange new voice in the blight coming from over there really horrifying? Or did you just say it was roughly fifteen times, but then actually it was just a big blob of Blight that you had to shoot extra times? Is the Butcher cruel? Or did Teia and Viago just tell us he was cruel with absolutely no detail whatsoever? Is Minrathous really blighted if you choose to save Treviso? Or are there just more beggars and some rubble and literally one blighted character? And so on, and so forth.

Remember that popular post not long ago, about how one of the great joys of Dragon Age was the sifting through unreliable narrators? Piecing together Avvar epic poetry and fragments of ancient elvhen runes and Andrastian canticles to try to guess what actually happened. The unique and unusual (in fiction) joy of the historiography of it all? We got to actively engage with the discovery. We got to piece together that Solas was the Dread Wolf, bit by difficult to find bit.

The fridge horror of it all could be really incredible. Making us work it out for ourselves meant that we experienced it much more intimately. It was an incredible storytelling tool.

Yeah I guess we just watch movies about it now. Just plug in the DVD Wolf statuette and now we know. And the codexes are reduced to flavor text and puzzle clues.

And last but definitely most,

Flat writing

Look man I know that's subjective as shit but it was. A lot of it was. You either agree or you don't, but for me, it was never more obvious than in the moments of contrast, when it was up to standard. The conversation with the Butcher. Every minute with Solas. Spite.

Contrast the Butcher (intense! Passionate! Creepy fucken pale face Harkonnen vibes! Deranged but genuine love for Treviso!) with the Dragon King (I don't even know what to put here. You don't even have to fight him! He just...blusters, and then there's a dragon, and then Taash shoves him and he falls over.)

It's just...I could probably forgive a lot of the stuff that went before if it was just more compellingly written.

Even here I absolutely will not be getting into character complaints. Those are too personal, and frankly I think people should keep them to private conversations. They have too much potential to hurt people for too little gain.

Sigh. I'm done now. I will try to focus on the good and the creative because I think that contributes a great deal more to everything and everyone. But for now, let me contemplate what could have been.

[lakesbian]

you know what. im going to follow my heart so we can move on with the wormread and just copy-paste what i said about danny in chapter 6.9 on discord with some minimal editing because it's not pretty but the general thesis is there and i don't feel like making it into proper paragraph form

okay so the thing thats fucking killing me abotu 6.9 is that danny is literally like. he tries to call taylor a nickname only her mom called her once he realizes he's fucked up bad and is trying to recover whichi s insane [because it's obviously going to be upsetting to her by reminding her of her mom being gone, and it also indicates that his fall-back for something going wrong w/ taylor is to try to appeal to her by poorly copying someone else's parenting style] and he also randomly tells her about how her mom wanted to move her a grade ahead but he wanted her to stay in school with emma to make her happy. and he's been Stewing On That despite knowing it's objectively not his fault (and i am reminded of how in his interlude he spends time Stewing about how he wishes annette were there to give advice) and he also cops up to the fact that that the whole thing about "being her parent and not her ally" (<- demented thing to say for obvious reasons) wherein he locks her in a room and demands emotional vulnerability from her even as she's becoming visibly upset & compares his actions to emma's was her grandmother's idea and then. here's the real kicker. once lisa shows up and prepares to take taylor away there are any number of actions a parent confident that they're doing the right thing for their child would normally do in response--not, like, Good actions, but things that a parent would be likely to pull. threatening to call the cops bc blah blah you're my daughter, wanting to speak to lisa's parents, any form of power move pulled over these two teenage girls but instead he speaks to lisa like she's an equal authority over taylor and seriously asks if she's "okay with this" (i should remind you of the concussion chapter where lisa is doing some insane power move shit over taylors dad covertly establishing herself as more competent at caring 4 her than him lmao) which is just like. it's so glaringly wildly obvious how this guy has Zero confidence in himself as a parent so he generally does nothing and then while he's doing nothing he oscillates btwn rationalizing it to himself as allowing her privacy/dignity, getting angry at himself/calling himself a coward, or getting mad at TAYLOR and blaming HER for not being the one to take initiation to be vulnerable with him and, like. he literally does make functional decisions prior to this for a bit! he's good and supportive at the meeting with the school board about the bullying!!! but it doesn't immediately solve literal years of distance between them that have led to taylor having to take decisionmaking for her wellbeing entirely into her own hands w/o being able to tell him about it [& having literally no route for human connection or support other than the undersiders] so he just completely crumbles on his own calls and seeks out/takes completely shit advice from taylor's grandma instead so i very much think what's insinuated here is like. especially given that he knows he has anger issues and never wants to Be Scary with them. he might have frequently leaned on annette for parenting decisions before she died and/or is really fucking haunted by the time(s) he didn't listen to her and it went wrong and now that she's gone he's just kinda floundering and trying to toss the baton for parental decisionmaking onto anyone else, including, at one point, the literal teenage girl who shows up to help taylor run away from his house. insane ! also. thinking about how taylor says her grandma (maternal) never liked her dad. that man would literally rather talk to the mother of his dead wife, who hates him, and take her advice than go 'yeah ithink im gonna keep using my own judgement for compassion towards my daughter' fucking worst anyones ever done it this guy has the spine of a twizzler it's great

...and then doing All That & severely triggering taylor's trauma from the bullying in the process completely shatters any trust he had built with her, catalyzing her realization that she wants to be able to have meaningful relationships with the undersiders & leading to her running away to leave with them! i don't think anyone can say for sure whether or not danny Not doing this would have led to taylor turning the undersiders in before realizing that she would regret it, but oh fucking boy does he make SURE she doesn't go thru with it. and it would be bad to call the cops on a bunch of systematically neglected traumatized teenagers regardless of how much crime they're doing so you know what maybe we should actually thank danny for his Shit Parenting stopping taylor from being a narc

[kissorkill16]

Breakdown: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Nicky finally says what he's wanted to say his whole life.

Nicky sat down on the living room couch. The TV was off, but he didn't feel like watching anything anyway.

He's been really bummed out lately and he doesn't know why. Nothing bad has really happened to him for the past week. In fact, he's actually had a good week so far.

His friends apologized to him for pushing him to a frenzy, Finch apologized for the whole picture thing, he and Delroy were starting to get along, his therapy sessions with Mr. Murtaugh seem to be going okay, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been to detention.

Then what was making him so upset?

Was he sick?

No. If he was sick, he would've felt something that said so.

Was he depressed?

He didn't think so. Maybe, because of Mr. Peterson, obviously.

Just then, the front door opened, and in walked his parents.

"Hey, Narf. We're home.", said his father, taking off his shoes. "Did you eat yet?"

Nicky nodded.

He didn't feel like talking to his parents. He hadn't seen them since last week, since they had another work trip. They were always out for work, always leaving him alone, barely ever home.

...Maybe that was it.

Luanne walked to the living room, taking off her jacket. Nicky looked at his mother, "So glad you guys are home.", he said.

"Yeah.", she said. "But sadly, it won't be for long."

Jay walked in, sitting next to Nicky. "We have to leave again two days from now. I'll make something for you before we leave, you can heat that up if you get hungry.", he said, then shrugged. "Or you could just order pizza. We'll leave some money for you."

Nicky's hands balled up into fists, and he squeezed his eyes tight. "That's how it always is.", he mumbled.

Luanne looked at him, "What?"

Nicky looked at his mother dead in the eye, "You guys always leave. That's how it's been for months now.", he said.

"Well, yeah. Narf, we have to leave so much because of work. You know that.", said Jay, putting a hand on his shoulder. Nicky shrugged it off.

"I do know that, but I just wish you guys didn't have to leave me alone so often. It's kind of ironic. You guys once said you'd be there for me when I need it, but you never fulfilled that promise.", he said. "Maybe then, I wouldn't be getting into trouble so much."

Luanne crossed her arms. "Don't blame your rebellious nature on us, young man! You get yourself into trouble. Remember the fart machine at Mrs. Tillman's store? That was all you and your little friends."

Nicky stood up, "Maybe! But it's not just that! It's been like this my whole life!"

Jay and Luanne stared at Nicky, both had displeased looks on their faces.

"You guys never had any time for me. From the moment I turned one, work was always more important to you than your own child. Always out somewhere for work, and always leaving me alone with Bubba.", said Nicky.

Luanne pointed an angry finger at his son, "Don't bring your grandmother into this!", she said. "She was the only one who was willing to watch you, but every time she did, we'd always come home to you gone and her sitting alone."

"Exactly.", said Jay. "Remember the grocery store? And the woods? It took us hours to find you. Sure, we weren't around a lot because of our jobs. But we also didn't like being around your grandmother because she was a fucking psychopath."

Nicky let out a dry laugh. "Probably, but she was the only one who didn't leave me when I needed her. Despite all the things she did to me, she told me herself that she really wants to protect me.", he said. "Maybe she'd believe me if I told her that Mr. Peterson was a murderer."

Luanne rubbed her temple. "Are we seriously back to this again?", she said. "Nicky, we've told you a million times before that Mr. Peterson is just a lonely old widow who lost his family."

"Your mother's right.", said Jay. "We'd take you to his house so he can tell you himself, but we hadn't seen him in weeks."

"Yeah. Because he's in jail.", Nicky flatly said.

Now Jay and Luanne were surprised.

"Jail?", asked Luanne. "For what?"

"For kidnapping me!", said Nicky. "I've been missing for a whole month, and when I escaped, I found out that no one had even bothered to look for me. There were 0 missing posters put up for me, and 0 search parties put together. When I got home, you guys were still gone."

Nicky paused for a moment when he felt tears falling down his face, "But I guess it's partly my fault. I decided to go missing while you guys were on another work trip. I was wearing a fucking bag over my head!"

Nicky felt his legs starting to give out, but he wasn't finished.

"And when you guys were here, you guys were pulling me out of my room because I was yelling at my friends! Those guys pushed me to a mental breakdown! Nevermind, the only thing you guys cared about was the fact that I was making a scene in front of the entire neighborhood! What's worse is that some bitch took a picture of it and printed it all around school! I hated my friends so much ever since that happened! I wanted to tell you guys so badly that I was being bullied by other kids at school, but you guys were always too busy!"

Nicky didn't even bother to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"But thank God you guys are paying for my therapy, but even that's not enough for you guys to spend more than 5 minutes with me.", he said. "You guys are my parents, you're supposed to be there when I need you, but you're never really there. And it's those times where I wish I was still with Mr. Peterson. At least he never let me out of his sight. He felt like the parent I never had, even if he wasn't in his right mind. Even if he locked me in his basement, he was more of a parent than you guys put together."

It was at that moment that Nicky finally wiped his eyes. When he did, he saw his mother's eyes fill with tears.

"Mom?"

Luanne didn't answer. Her lips quivered, and the tears started to flow down her face.

"Mom, are you crying?", he asked. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you -"

Luanne didn't even let her son finish before she started sobbing, her hands rubbing eyes. She sat down on the couch, still wiping the tears from her eyes. Jay sat down next to her, rubbing her back.

"Mom, I'm sorry. Please stop crying, I didn't mean to make you -"

"No, Nicky. You're right.", said Luanne. "You're right. We're terrible parents. We didn't even know you went missing."

Jay looked down at his knees, "We didn't even try to call you to check up on you.", he said. "Man, how was your grandmother a better parent than we were? She was a fucking lunatic.", then he sighed. "But I guess you'd rather be raised by a lunatic than be all alone."

Nicky rubbed his eyes, feeling them fill with tears again. "I miss her so much, even if she wasn't the best parent, she was still there for me. But I still love you guys so much."

Jay smiled at his son, "And we love you too."

Luanne stopped rubbing her eyes for a moment, then wrapped her arms around Nicky, pulling him in for a hug.

Nicky was taken by surprise for a moment, but then he hugged his mother back. Jay soon joined in the hug, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Nicky buried his face in his mother's shoulder, "Maybe this time, they'll fulfill their promise to be there for me.", he thought.

Meanwhile, Jay and Luanne would make sure that Nicky would never feel alone again.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Next theme is “Protect The Kids!” The threats might be very different (sexist post-apocalyptic wannabe warlords vs a grandmother who can’t learn to back off and stop belittling her son’s parenting) but I think the theme still works :p

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟 (YOU GO KAREN YOU BLOW THEM UP!!!! Love that for her! And loving that the whole family (and taylor :p) are reunited! Also I’m really enjoying the whole ‘zombies are dying out so how is the world gonna look now’ element. It’s such an interesting direction for this story!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (their baby girl is almost here! And Helena Back Off I will beat your ass you’re already on thin ice with me from 🌲 (yeah I’m so mad at her in that story that it’s bleeding over into this one) (and from canon lol that too) leave eddie alone! And eddie fight through your insecurities and lean on your husband and know that I believe in you sweetie!)

- PCA <3

OH LOVE THIS THEME!

69 for 🧟 (YEAH KAREN! And thank you! I wanted something a little different because I didn't want to get bored with just writing zombies the whole time. I didn't think I could make it as fun as my beloved zombie game of youth, Left 4 Dead.)

---

Then Athena flew with the concept. Which only makes sense. Buck doesn’t think anyone in their original little core group could come up with something quite so… Intense. And that’s including Karen’s bomb idea. Fuck, that was brilliant. 

The moment the second bomb goes off, Athena and Taylor set into motion. They’ve roped Bobby into it, too.

“All you two need to do is stand behind us with your guns and look intimidating,” Athena says to Buck and Eddie. Buck’s not sure he can do the second part, but he can definitely do the first. 

Chim’s on the roof covering them, if anything happens. Hen is going to check on Karen and Maddie. Shannon and Abby are staying with the kids. Everything is covered. All Buck has to do is act the part while Taylor and Athena pull off the rest. Because of Karen’s brilliance, Buck thinks they’re in the clear. He thinks they’re safe. 

The five of them walk around the back of the building to where the sole surviving intruder is dragging himself away towards his vehicle. He’s crying and shaking. Buck would sort of feel bad, if the guy hadn’t been here to steal the kids. He doesn’t know the others very well, but anyone trying to steal Denny away from his moms? Yeah, Buck wants them to hurt. 

As instructed, Buck and Eddie pretty much stand there silently, looking - maybe? - tough with their guns as the other three approach the guy. Taylor walks around behind him and steps on the back of his leg, pinning him in place. He cries out a little. Buck wonders if he hurt himself when he fell.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Taylor asks. 

“P-please,” the man moans. “Let me go!”

“Would you have let our children go?” Athena asks. 

The man’s jaw clenches. He’s young. Younger than Buck, even. Early twenties, for sure. Buck can’t tell if he’s furious or terrified. Probably both. 

“I’m sure you came looking for your friends,” Athena continues. “Sal? And the old guy?”

He glares dark, angry eyes at her. 

“We killed them,” Bobby says. “Just like your friends here today.”

It surprises Buck, how stonily Bobby is able to say it. That they killed people. Four people. That’s not an insignificant number. Buck killed zero of those people. But he still feels sort of surreal about all of it. They’re just blowing people up now. 

“Just like we might do to you,” Taylor adds with a smirk.

She’s a little too into this, Buck thinks. But just a little. These guys are pretty creepy. 

“Or, we might not,” Athena says. And this is where Taylor’s idea comes into play. “What’s your name?”

The young man narrows his eyes. Like he’s not sure what she has to gain by asking this. 

“You can say it,” Athena presses. “What are we going to do? Google you?”

“Matthew,” he relents. “Sparks.”

“Matthew Sparks,” Athena nods. “That’s a good name. A strong name.”

He rolls his eyes. 

---

96 for ⚡️(YEAH I AM MAD AT HELENA TOO AND IT'S BLEEDING INTO ALL MY STORIES!):

---

He needs to not put himself, or his family, in positions where she has that kind of power over him. He might not be giving into what she wants, but she certainly still gets in his head. He loves his mother. He thinks for the most part the way she is is motivated by an overbearing, stubborn sort of love. A grating sort of love. He doesn’t want her not to know her granddaughter. 

Helena doesn’t have this exact dynamic with Sophia, though. Not the way she has with Eddie, and to a lesser extent, Adriana. Sophia has been pragmatic and firm and never needed the same amount of help. And that’s the difference, right? Eddie had needed his parents. Shannon had needed them. They didn’t have their shit together when Chris was born, or any time soon after, and they needed Ramon and Helena’s help. 

Eddie doesn’t need help now, though. He hasn’t in years. He can set whatever sort of boundaries he wants. What would the consequences even be? It’s no longer the family versus him. Eddie is the one with the family. He can walk away from her barbed words, if she chooses to keep using them. 

He waits until the nursery is done before calling her again. It feels wise to wait. Let the anger and the anxiety burn out of him. Use his hands for something good and productive. Which is basically just letting Buck order him around under threat of a wet paintbrush to the backside. But whatever. He has a good time helping Buck create the space where their daughter will very soon sleep. 

So he calls his mother in early October. When everything is ready. When their baby is almost here. When all that’s left for them to do is make sure they are as mentally prepared as possible. And for Eddie, that’s going to have to mean making this call. Whether he wants to or not. 

“Eddie?” Helena answers, nervous edge to her voice. “It’s… It’s good to hear from you.”

It’s been weeks since those last exchanged words. Eddie hasn’t even sent her a text. Not that she deserved one. 

“Hey, Mom,” he replies. He’s sitting on the floor in the center of the nursery. There’s a perfectly good chair off to the side. But he finds this is where he’s drawn to sitting. 

“Um, is everything okay with the baby? Is she coming early?” 

“No, no. Everything is fine. I’m just… Well, I need to talk to you.”

“Oh? Okay, then. About what?” 

Eddie swallows. Preparing himself. 

“Okay, well… I was pretty unhappy with how our last conversation went. About the baby.”

“Honestly, Eddie? I wasn’t pleased either.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He wasn’t happy because she pressed on an old, unfair wound. She wasn’t happy because he told her no. It’s really not the same. 

“Alright, well… I just wanted to say it’s not going to happen again, Mom.” 

“You’ve changed your mind about the visit?” She asks. 

“No. We’re still not hoping to have any guests for the first while after she’s born. That’s not what I meant.”

Helena sighs. “What did you mean, then?” 

“I meant, you aren’t going to pull that on me again,” Eddie says. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I know you know what I mean,” Eddie says. “The guilt trip? Reminding me of my past fuck ups? I don’t need that anymore, Mom. And it’s not… It’s not going to work.”

“Eddie, you’re being-”

“No, I’m not. I’m not being anything. I’m just telling you. I don’t deserve it and I won’t have my children being a… A pawn between you and I anymore.”

“That’s a cruel accusation, Eddie.” 

“Mmm,” Eddie nods, despite her not being able to see him. “And yet, it felt like something I really needed to say.”

She makes a frustrated, helpless noise. If she and his father were still together, here’s where Ramon would jump in and take her side. They’d gang up on him. She doesn’t have that option this time. She can listen to Eddie, or she can choose to ignore him. Either way, he’s not the one who loses most. 

“Is this an ultimatum, Edmundo? Go along with everything you say and never give you any feedback or you cut me off from those kids?”

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P2]

You reconcile about your near-death encounter and spend some quality time with those in your life-- New and old.

- I'm so happy that some of y'all are liking the story so far!! Any comments or general likes really help to boost my confidence for this and mood! I'm excited to bring you all the next chapter in a little over a week! Cross-Posted on AO3!

Warnings: None

Words: ~5.3k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

When you had gotten back to the house, nobody was home still, thankfully. It was clear that some had come by to drop off a couple of things, or even pick some up, but besides that it was blissfully quiet. That was perfect for you. It gave you time to shut yourself in your room, sitting there on the chair at your desk as you tried to calm the erratic breaths. It felt like there just wasn't enough air, and you felt the presence of more hot tears slide down your face. A shuddering sob left your body as your mortality finally sank in; You had almost died. You could have died. That certainly could've been the end of your story, once and for all, and all because of your own stupidity. 

It made you sob even harder, putting your head in your hands as you curled in on yourself. Your ankle was stinging, and so were your eyes, but nothing hurt as bad as the ache in your chest at the staunch realization of how close you’d come to facing your own doom. With all the crying that tears from your mouth and throat, it’s a miracle you’re able to hear your alarm on your phone go off. It gives you a pause, your sniffling and weeps coming to a halt as you look over and spy what it’s for. Fuck. Dinner. That’s right. 

“Shit.” You whisper out, hastily wiping the tears off of your face. You need to be at the restaurant in an hour. There’s no way you’re going to make it on time. You shoot off a group text to your family, letting them know you were going to be late, and hastily tried to pull yourself together. You headed into the bathroom, splashing your face with water and taking the time to clean it, before you readied yourself. 

It was getting late, now, and cool air was finally gracing the beach. It gave you an excuse to pull on a pair of leggings, taking time beforehand to dress your ankle and wrap it in gauze. Examining the injury, you noticed that the claw marks actually weren’t too deep. They were little scratches more than anything, although where they had dug in did bleed. You also discovered that you didn’t feel woozy, or tired, or on the verge of passing out at any moment. You felt… Normal. He really hadn’t injected any venom into you. 

You can still hear his words echoing around your mind as you wrap the gauze after cleaning. I was just messing around. Your lips curl down, scowling as you bite back more tears. Well, if he was being honest about that, it was fucked up. It made you feel more angry than anything else. What kind of sick joke was that? Pretending like he was going to kill you? You began to tremble again as you finished and dressed yourself, but it wasn’t in fear this time. It was anger. Mers were sick and twisted. You could see why it was easy for someone to fall victim to them, though. After all… You almost had. 

Once you were finished getting yourself ready, you headed out, hopping on the electronic bike that you were going to be using for your stay here. Your grandmother had a car, of course, which you’d probably use on occasion. The bike was sturdy, though, faster than normal due to being electric. And with the maneuverability of an ocean town, even if it was a bit far from the home, biking would be better. It’d get you some exercise, too– Hard to do that when you’re stuck behind a computer screen all day, working. 

You head into the town, trying to shake off the earlier encounter. It was extremely difficult, though, as every little push of your leg downward on the bike petal, you were reminded of it. You couldn’t get the face of the mers out of your head, either– Twins! How sorry that other mer looked when he asked to explain, and how you’d just fled instead. You didn’t regret it, of course, you weren’t keen on being tricked again, but… To see the concern and guilt on his face. Almost like he was the one who did it instead of his brother. 

You give a shake of your head, trying to dismiss that notion. It was all just a game to them. Not even a game– Survival. After all, they wanted to kill you so they could eat. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but you were sure that humans probably had some very enticing nutrients compared to them, which is likely why they were hunted. After today’s encounter though… You were suddenly uncertain. Maybe they really were just cruel and hunted for sport. To think, the only reason you’re alive is because one of them had been kind enough to stop another. For what, though? Was it to lure you into a false sense of security so you’d be back? Hah. Fat chance. You weren’t going anywhere near those waters again. 

You took a moment to wonder if you should alert the local authorities of mer sightings. That would probably take care of them real quick, or at least spook them away. Then again… They were just trying to live their life. You had no reason to really go into the ocean again; You didn’t like swimming that much, after all. Other people could be endangered, though.

Your mind was a storm as you arrived at the restaurant, parking outside and locking the bike before you headed in. It was right on the boardwalk as well, and you enjoyed the cooling atmosphere and the breeze on your face as you sat outside with your family. Your grandmother had finally finished tying up loose ends for the day and joined you all. You got to enjoy some delicious food, sipping on your favorite drink as you enjoyed the evening with your family. They were staying at a local hotel, but you knew they’d leave early morning. You were going to have another day of rest and exploration around the town tomorrow, but then after that? It’d be time for work– Only for the glass shop, though. You still had another vacation day from your actual job. 

Full of good food and tired from today’s events, you suddenly wished that you hadn’t biked all the way out here. Thankfully, your grandmother offered to give you a ride back, and you hooked the bike onto the back of your car. You still had some time to digest, though, walking around the little beach city with your family for another hour, window shopping and sifting through any shops that were currently open. You bought yourself a cute little trinket, and finally parted ways with your family after some hugs, kisses and well wishes. 

You were grateful to finally be back at your home away from home, though. It was dark now, and although it was still relatively early, you figured you’d just go to bed and start the day early. Miraculously, when you’d been out, you’d managed to push all thoughts of the mers out of your mind. Getting out of the car, though, you glanced towards the ocean after you’d shut the door. In the gleaming moonlight above, you could’ve sworn that you spotted the flick of scales and a tail curl back down into the water. It was enough to make your heart speed faintly, which made you quickly take your bike down from the back of the car and hurry inside. 

“Is there anything else you need for your room, dearest?” Your grandmother’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you desperately try to lower your pounding heart rate. You know your grandmother is perceptive, but she doesn’t seem to catch on, thankfully, also appearing quite tired after the long day. 

“No, I’m– It’s perfect. Thank you.” You finally respond, forcing a small smile to creep across your face. You want to disappear into your room and sleep, but there’s this forlorn look on the elder woman’s face as she gazes towards the living room sofa. Your grandfather had died two weeks ago, cremated and ashes spread to sea today. Although this wouldn’t be her first night without him, you were certain everything felt more real, now. “Do you want to watch a show? I hear that a new baking one premiered tonight.” You offer a suggestion, quietly, coming forward to place a hand on her shoulder. It’s one of her favorite things to watch, and you’re quite partial to it, too. She startles a bit, as if not expecting you, but turns her head towards you and offers you a small smile. Her soft, cold hand comes to rest upon your own. 

“I… That would be lovely. Let me get us a drink while you set up.” She suggests, and the smile you offer this time is more relaxed as you nod. You settle on the couch, turning on the television and flick to the appropriate channel. She comes back with two wine glasses and a bottle of rose she had stocked away, and you pour each of you a glass after you’ve opened it. The show begins, and you take the time to watch with her. It’s a fairly typical baking competition program, but you still find yourself enjoying it, especially as your grandmother pipes up with various comments. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t bake that with such little time.” Was one remark, along with, “My, my, her technique is so strange… There’s a much simpler way of doing that.” There was even a bold comment from her, saying, “I could easily do that.” That brings a laugh and reassuring agreement from yourself. Two episodes air in a row, and you watch both of them together, the bottle a little over half gone. By the time it’s over, you’re both exhausted, and after a hug and kisses on the cheek, you put everything away and get some rest. You sink down into your bed after changing into nightclothes, shuffling around for your earbuds to listen to some music before heading to sleep. 

It’s with a grumble and start, though, that you realize they must’ve fallen earlier when you grabbed your towel. A groan leaves you at the thought, and you rub your eyes, looking out the window. You eye the moonlit sky, listening to the calming sound of waves from the opening in your window. Too lazy and tired to shut the blinds, you turn over, finally managing to fall asleep. 

It’s dreamless until the very end. You feel like you’re suspended in water, floating through a viscous liquid more closely resembling amber. Your movements are slow, and each push of your limbs are tedious. There’s clicking all around you. Unseen voices whispering with hints of laughter. Something brushes your ankle. You flinch, scarcely. There’s a tug at your hair. A nip at your thigh. You try to move, but the water is thick and suffocating. Hands grip your hips, and a head comes up, pressing sharp, tender kisses to the front of your neck. You try to move your head to view the culprit, but you’re just too slow, and they’re too fast. 

A tongue runs along the front of your throat, before there’s a searing, all encompassing pain as it bites down. It’s not a lovebite, either. You can feel your flesh tearing, skin breaking, and blood begins to billow around you as you scream out. Nothing comes out, though, and nobody is here to save you this time. 

You wake with a start, heart hammering so hard in your chest you think you’re going to pass right back out again. You sit up, drenched in sweat, and try to take slow, deep, calming breaths. You clutch at your shirt, closing your eyes to try and ground yourself with the sensations around you. The fabric of your shirt. The sound of mourning doves and the sea. The faint smell that comes from the kitchen, something cooking. Your mouth is clammy, the faint residual taste of rose left on it. You finally pry your eyes open, peering at your covers and the sunlight filtering through. You can see specks of dust floating in the air, and you take the time to follow various ones until they float to the ground. 

At some point, you’ve finally calmed down enough. Your heart isn’t pounding anymore, and your breathing isn’t erratic. A shaky sigh leaves you as you flop back down in bed, pushing hair out of your face. Yeah. You were probably never swimming again. Not in the ocean, at least. For a moment, you lay there, listening to the doves croon and the waves lap at the shore. It’s only when your stomach lets out a mighty growl do you finally decide to get up. After a lovely stretch, you’re on your feet, shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn. “Good morning, dear.” Your grandmother greets, pulling out a delicious looking waffle from the waffle maker. She’s also made some other sides, which you eye eagerly, especially the fruit salad. All of the fruit looks so fresh and vibrant. 

“Good morning. Thank you for breakfast!” You smile, sitting down as some comes to sit with you after bringing over the plate of waffles and syrup. 

“Of course. You’re going to have a long day today, out and about in the town. I hope it’s relaxing, and maybe you’ll even meet some new people you can befriend while you’re there.” She insists, causing you to chuckle at the thought. 

“Maybe. It’d be difficult to leave, though, if I made any good friends.” You muse, piling your plate on with various breakfast items. She just smiles, tutting and giving a small shake of her head. 

“With how the internet is nowadays, I’m certain you can keep in contact. You could always move here as well, if you were interested. I wouldn’t mind having a permanent roommate.” She suggests, and you hum contemplatively at the offer as you begin to stuff your face full. It’s certainly a thought… Plus, it may even be cheaper than your current place of residence. Even so, you like being around more city or suburban areas. It’s what you grew up with, and you couldn’t imagine anything else right now. 

“I’ll think about it. Quite the kind offer.” You reply after swallowing. The rest of breakfast goes by quietly, and after you’re finished eating as well as helping to clean dishes, you decide to head out. Your first order of business is going to get your earbuds. Although the thought of being anywhere down near that shore again makes an array of goosebumps flush over your skin, you decide that if your earbuds dropped anywhere, it would be far away enough from the shore. You’d be safe. Part of you wishes you could take someone with you, but that was a fruitless thought. Your grandmother couldn’t make that trip down there, so you had to put on the big pants and do it yourself. 

It was shaping up to be another warm day, so you decided to put on a flowy shirt and some shorts. You showered, re-dressed your wound, and got yourself ready. After pulling on another pair of flipflops, you were almost out of the house before you heard a gasp. Looking over, you saw your grandmother peer down at your ankle, and that’s when you remembered the gauze there. You’d forgotten about it, even if you had rewrapped it not even five minutes ago. “What happened to your ankle?” She fretted, walking over to you. You hesitated, taking a half step back, shifting from foot to foot. 

“I… Went down to the beach yesterday and… Accidentally scraped my foot against a rock.” You lied, and why did you lie? Were you embarrassed about it? Surely not, but… Well… Okay, perhaps a bit. After all, the only reason you almost did die was because you were dumb enough to waltz forward up to a mer. You realized that you were still keeping quiet about it, though, when you’d thought about reporting it to the authorities. You should just tell her the truth. Maybe she knew who to talk to about it. This could save lives. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Can I take a look at it? I have some cream that could help.” She offers, holding out a hand. Although this is the perfect opportunity, you find yourself stepping back again. Why aren’t you being honest?

“N-No, that’s fine! I’ve already cleaned it and dressed it for now. It will be okay. Thank you, though.” You smile, meekly, grabbing the bike key. She offers you another worried look, but doesn’t press. 

“If you’re certain. Have fun today, and call me if you need anything.” She says, and you thank her before taking your leave. You’re still trying to fathom why exactly you hadn’t been honest as you make your way back down the stairs, hesitating as you near the bottom. All you can see in the water right now is… Well, nothing. Just vast blue as far as the eye can see. Your steps are still hesitant as you touch down on the sand, and you decide to take your sandals off for easier walking. It’s still early out, the sand retaining the cool morning air, but it feels nice to squish between your toes as you head back down to where you were yesterday. 

In the distance, you can spy the alcove you had settled near, as well as your flipflops. Your sunhat is nowhere to be seen, though. Probably blew away again. Well, whatever… Probably for the best. You’re not sure you’d ever wear that thing again anyways. Now comes the fun task: Finding your earbuds. You grab your other shoes and set your current ones aside, settling on your knees as you sift through the sand. You manage to find one easily, but the other is giving you trouble. Focused in your task, you don’t see something rise out of the ocean in your peripheral vision. 

“Hey!” A voice calls out, and you gasp, nearly dropping your one bud. You look over, and it’s that same mer from yesterday. You instantly begin to feel your heart drum faster, and you get to your feet, ready to flee again despite him being over fifteen feet away and only half on the shore. “Don’t leave, please! I’d like to talk to you.” You notice that he sounds awfully more polite today, and when you take in the sight of what you can see from his tail, that’s when you realize; This isn’t the same mer. His blue is brighter. A little more vibrant, with seafoam green patterns that shimmer in the soft sunlight filtering through the clouds. 

Upon further inspection, you notice that he even seems a little nervous himself. He’s smiling, but it’s tepid; Uncertain. Where he holds himself up, you can see a finger tapping anxiously into the sand. He looks ready to dart, but not at you. Away from you. There’s a tension to his muscles that screams he’s not sure if he wants to be here, but more that, perhaps, he’s forcing himself to be. It doesn’t completely lower your guard, but it does give you a pause from immediately fleeing. Your own muscles are tense, though, and you slowly turn fully back towards him. You crouch once more, near where you had been. His muscles don’t relax, but you see his face soften more. Less concerned, now. 

He takes a moment, then, as if he’s suddenly unsure about what to say. You most certainly don’t speak up, wringing your hands together anxiously as you wait for something to happen. Anything. “I, um…�� He starts, now suddenly seeming a lot more nervous as he takes you in. “My name is Connor. What’s yours?” He finally introduces himself. You just peer at him, wondering how a mer has such a common human name. It’s awfully strange. 

You finally offer your own name, quiet, but loud enough to carry over the breeze. He repeats it, smiling just a bit wider, and you find your heart picking up speed again for an entirely different reason this time. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize for my brother’s actions yesterday. It’s… Not often at all we get to interact with humans, and I think he just got a bit too excited.” The smile falls from his face, more into a grimness. “That doesn’t excuse what he did, of course, but I just want you to know that he truly didn’t mean any harm.” You’re not quite sure you believe him, and clearly that thought reflects on your face, because Connor’s face falls just a bit more. 

“We don’t kill humans. I swear on my life. We really, barely interact with any.” He promises, face serious, head bowed a bit, although his gaze still holds yours. There’s a lot of questions on your tongue that you have, but you’re trying to choose the most important one right now. After all, time may be limited. This could be a trap. What if one flew out of the ocean and dragged you in? 

It’s a glaringly preposterous thought, but there have been rumors that mer were able to shift and form legs. If that was true, one of them could creep up on you in the sand without you knowing. 

…What a silly idea. There’s no way. Right? 

If you’re feeling unnerved, so is Connor by the look you see on his face. He is apologizing… Mers will trick you. It comes floating back to your mind. Your hand grips your shorts. You finally ask at least one of the questions on your mind. 

“How do you know coast tongue so well?” You ask, and you can see his shoulders droop a bit in relief that you actually are talking to him. 

“We have a good human friend. He took care of us after we were… Left our home.” He looks like he’s choosing his words carefully, at the end. You squint. Was he lying? “He lives nearby. Has a home on the coast like yourself.” He glances over yonder, and you look that way also, up the cliff, but don’t spot anything. Must be more secluded and further out, then. Your eyes are drawn back to the water as you hear a hiss, and the telltale sound of clicking. You feel your blood pressure spike up as another figure emerges from the water, and boy is he imposing. 

You notice immediately that he looks also very similar to Connor, except his complexion is paler. He’s broader, with darker hair and cold, distrustful stormy blue eyes. His jaw is sharper, and the scales on his cheeks are darker as well, but you can’t see any of his tail as only his shoulders and above are not submerged. He doesn’t look mad, but he certainly doesn’t look friendly. You’re still a decent distance away, but even you can feel the icy glower he’s giving you. Connor looks down at him, looking a bit exasperated, and the figure disappears back into the water with a silent ripple. “...That’s my other brother.” He explains, and suddenly you’re on edge. How many more were they?

“...Are there more than just the three of you?” You ask, worried, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s just us. Other mers don’t like to come around here. Awhile back, sealife population was scarce, which meant for more difficult hunts. It’s repopulated since, but others still stay away.” He explains. Well, that would explain a few things… You could only hope that distant pods wouldn’t catch wind of it and come swarming back over. Three mers was enough, even if some of them seemed… Well tempered. You’re surprised to find that you’re a little more relaxed, now. Your heart has calmed since the other mer swam away, and ponder about what he had said to Connor. He seemed upset. What were you talking about? Oh, right. The human. You wonder if that had anything to do with it. 

“What’s the human’s name?” You ask, curious if he was known around town, or even if your grandmother knew him. “The one that takes– Or, took– Care of you.” Ah, that must have been it. You can see uncertainty crawl back onto the mer’s features, and he shifts a bit in the sand, curling his tail a little further up to reseat himself. Part of you wants to back off. You don’t want to pressure him if he doesn’t want to talk about it… Then again, the other part of you is petty with how you were scared half to death the other day. That, and you still don’t completely trust him. 

“How’s your injury?” He deflects, and you’re certain you see a deep blue fin crest just behind him before slinking back down into the water. That other mer is still around, then. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“It’s fine.” You reply, a bit stiffly, glancing behind you where you kneel. You decide to adjust yourself as well, moving to sit on your bottom, now with your legs in front. His eyes catch onto the wrapped appendage, brow creasing a bit. “He… Didn’t inject me with any venom.” You admit, brushing the sand off of your knees and calves. 

“No. We only do that to prey.” He explains, as if trying to further convince you of his insistence that you weren’t going to be food. You can see a bit of color come to his cheeks. “And, um… For… Other things.” He admits, a little quietly, and you tilt your head to the side. 

“Like what?” You ask, curiosity piqued at how he seems to look a little squeamish now. You see his tail flick up out of the water, softly slapping back down in contemplation. 

“Well… I’m not entirely sure how to say it in coast tongue, but it’s… Potent for other mers, too. It also can be in humans, if injected in lower doses, and not the normal doses we would inflict for… Prey.” He grimaces a bit at the thought, but that doesn’t answer anything. You just stare at him, a little blankly, and he squirms again. “It can be used for, ah… Mating.” He finally decides on, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s implying. 

“Like an aphrodisiac.” You conclude, and he looks a bit confused. 

“A what?” He asks. You try to put it eloquently, but instead it just comes out a little more blunt than you’d like it to be. 

“It’s something that makes you horny.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say this, but Connor is still looking bewildered. God, you’re putting your foot in your mouth. “It– That’s the feeling you get when you want to mate with someone. When you’re in heat. Kinda.” You explain, hoping he understands, and he seems to. Semblance of knowledge flashes across his face, and he nods his head. 

“Yes. Exactly like that.” Well, that would explain why humans always felt so drugged and tired when they were dosed ‘lethally’. You’d never experienced an aphrodisiac, but the descriptors felt similar. Before you could mull on it anymore, though, it suddenly occurred to you how strange this was. You were sitting here, talking with a mer about how their toxins could apparently be used for sex not even a full day after you’d nearly been drowned by one. Or, at least, caught by one… 

For a moment, you both just sat there in silence, unsure of what else to say. You weren’t keen on getting to know the mers, really, not after your encounter. It seems that Connor’s brother– The one who had harassed you– Must’ve felt the same, as he wasn’t here today. It was just the mer in front of you, and the other one skulking about in the water. You listened to the distant sounds of birds, faintly tickling your ears, and that’s when you remembered the whole reason you came down here. You looked over, beginning to sift through the sand once again for your missing technology. “What are you doing?” He spoke up, resting on his stomach now. He crossed his arms, chin coming to rest on them, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had anything better to do than lay here and watch you. 

“Looking for my earbud.” You explained, and his head tilted to the side. It reminded you of his brother, with the way that curl drooped down his face. Gosh, he really was handsome… That thought certainly didn’t leave you. 

“What’s that?” His eyes flash in curiosity, and you turn your body a bit to look in a different area. 

“It’s something I use to listen to music.” You pause, glancing at him. “Do you know what that is?”

“I… Do.” He replies, perking up at first, before something seems to cross his mind that stops him from saying anything else. You search more in silence, before he breaks it again. “Do you have a favorite music?”

“Favorite song.” You correct, quietly, brows furrowing in frustration as you can’t find anything still. “I have a few favorites. I can’t choose just one.” You admit. You move your hand more, digging deep until finally you manage to grab hold of it. Must’ve gotten buried from your haste yesterday. 

“Can I listen to one of them?” He asks, lifting his head up, watching you brush and blow the sand out of the bud, trying to clean it out as best as you can. You glance over at him, unable to keep your face away from the curious look in his eyes. Genuine curiosity. It doesn’t look like something that could be faked. If you thought his brother had some boyish charm to him, Connor certainly blew him out of the water with his. 

“...Why me?” You suddenly find yourself asking, frowning as you turn your attention back to him. The look on his face instantly begins to melt away, and you keep firm from trying to backpedal and give in. Now he was certainly a sad, wet puppy. “It seems like… You all try to keep yourselves secret. Secluded. I understand why, but… If that’s the case, why would your brother risk it all by talking to me?” Connor seems to shrink down a bit from the question, curling in on himself a bit, a soft grimace overtaking his features. 

“I… Don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” He says, so quiet that it’s almost carried away by the ocean waves. “He wants to talk to you again, though. Maybe you could talk to him later.” He suggests, perking up a bit, only to flatten some as he sees the unenthusiastic look on your face. You’d have to see if curiosity would get the better of you. 

“...I should go.” You finally declare, getting to your feet. You brush the rest of the sand off, grabbing your two pairs of shoes, and tuck your earbuds away. 

“Will you come back?” Connor asks, and you can’t help but to feel a flare in your chest at the hopeful sound of his voice. You pause after you take a step, sparing a small glance back at him. He looks as hopeful as he sounds, and it makes you hesitate. Uncertainty prickles under your skin. 

“Maybe.” You finally reply, turning and plodding down the beach. You don’t get a response from him, but you can hear shuffling as he drags himself back into the water, disappearing from sight. You spare a glance back as the spot he was once in washes away, hiding any evidence of him.

[fittlebottom]

I know I just posted about pip but back when I was waiting for my contacts to come in I was like very blind for a day or two. And during that time I only drew once. No joke this drawing, if you can even call it one, has taken over my life. I've thought about it everyday for almost a month straight.

Washing the dishes? Where the geese at. Folding laundry? Where the geese at. Trying to read? Where the geese at. Trying to draw? At least one Where the geese at clone made. I have had to stop during multiple conversations with friends and family to hold back a giggle if I'm even remotely reminded of this fucking image. When I drew it originally I genuinely thought I was the funniest person on the face of the planet and everyone else, every comic every comedian, would need to pack up and go back to Alaska. The worst part about it to me is that no one else gets it. It's a fucking inside joke with MYSELF. You know how the trolls guy when he got arrested said under his breathe "this is gonna ruin the tour..." quite literally I have done that so many times but with "where the geese at". I was giving my grandmother a pity visit because she's senile now and acts like she's still in the '60s. We were looking at a physical map and she said something along the lines of "where is *insert place from my county*" . I, without thinking, whispered under my breathe "where the geese at." And her, being the Christian woman she is, thought I was chanting the devils incantations. And now for the next 2 Sundays I have to go to church with her. ALL BECAUSE OF WHERE THE GEESE AT. PIP BERNADOTTE YOUVE RUINED MY LIFE I AM DONE FOR. Genuinely I feel as if I can't draw anymore because all I want to do is where the geese at. I feel like I'm being brainwashed by this fucking drawing. I'm not a religious person but I think I've been possessed by an evil spirit that just wants to make me miserable. I took a break from drawing for a few weeks after finishing a piece that left me very burnt out. You wanna know what brought me back? What motivated me to open up my program? I was going through where the geese at withdrawals. I only came back because I was getting angry at the fact I hadn't drawn where the geese at in days. I am addicted to this drawing like it's black tar heroin. Where the geese at has rotted my brain to the point of no return. It's only been a month of its life and so far it has only made mine worse and worse. I eat, sleep, breathe where the geese at. I feel the need to use my own tears as paint and draw where the geese at all over my metal enclosure. I see him everywhere I go. Thinking about it and writing this all out has made my face flush red with rage maybe? Frustration? Geese withdrawals? Lord please save me from this curse I cannot live like this.

I feel really bad if anyone reads this at all. I have no hellsing friends so I haven't been able to mourn my loss of sanity with context to anyone. I am very truly deeply sorry for anyone who reads my rants of a madman my dehydrated dying words.

Where the geese at amiright folks? I'll be here all night.

[tyfinn]

Walking away from toxic mother update...

TW: Toxic parenting, walking away from family

I just feel the need to talk about what happened this week. For those who know, and for those who don't, this post is for me. I don't expect anyone to read it, and I'm not looking for validation or anything... More under the cut

So back in August, I had my last phone conversation with my mother, with whom I have had a very contentious relationship for years. Many years. And that particular August Sunday, I decided it was finally enough.

Two weeks later she tried contacting me on my wedding anniversary. I did not respond.

To be honest, I don't remember if she tried to get in touch with me after that. My sister did, telling me she is in the middle and wanted to know if I was really done, and she just needed to know so that she could tell our mother. She also wanted to know what she did that was so bad.

Here is the funny thing. I mentioned many times how we have the same argument all the time, nothing changes, and she has no interest in my life. I told my sister that for my mental health, I needed to walk away.

October: we are hit by 2 back to back hurricanes. My mother reached out, saying I don't have to talk to her, but let her know I was ok. I did.

Thanksgiving I received at least 3 FB messages. I did not read any of them.

Christmas Eve, I received a text from her while I was at work. I did not read it. On my way home, I called my best friend, who knows everything. I asked her what I should do. There were days the guilt would get to me, but then I thought back to every time I reached out, things still did not change. She suggested I block her. I had not done that yet.

So, on Christmas morning, I read through the messages. They started out angry, comparing me to my paternal grandmother, things I have heard before. And then she told me how she was not giving up on me, I am still her daughter. I pulled out my books on toxic parenting and read the chapter about walking away, and how sometimes that was the only solution. I tried having a "tea party" relationship. It does not work for me. I do not have time in my life for a superficial mother-daughter relationship. I do not want to spend time with people who do not want to get to know me.

I blocked her, and I have to tell you I had one of the best Christmases in years. I felt no guilt. I did not feel bad. I enjoyed the day.

Yesterday, my brother posted on FB aimed at me, but not mentioning me by name. He has also had a difficult relationship with our mother. It basically said, how our mother gave us life, we may not always get along or agree with each other, but the unconditional love will always be there. Also, that I may think my life is better without her, but in reality my life is sad and lonely. I have hurt her deeply.

Here's the thing. I have not felt love in years. My life is better without her. My life is far from sad and lonely. To quote Nick Nelson from Heartstopper Season 2 Episode 7: I like my life. I like who I am.

Also, from the same episode, this time from Charlie: I will not be ambushed into forgiving you.

Why does she find the need for me to respond now? I just can't.

I blocked my brother, sister, and other members from my family last night.

This morning, I received a text from my sister, needing to know what happened. I do not owe her an explanation. She feels stuck in the middle trying to fix this. She can't fix this, and I didn't ask her to. I responded I was at work, and I would respond this evening or tomorrow, but I really don't know what else I can say. She responded by saying she got her answer, and she is done.

I figured it would be a matter of time before my brother and sister would not want to talk to me anymore. I accepted that fact back in August.

I've said it before, as horrible as it sounds, I feel nothing towards them. We never had a "normal family dynamic."

It was not the way I wanted to end 2024, but I am happy to be starting 2025 on a clean slate.

I know, deep down, I have made the right decision to walk away. I have worked very hard figuring out who I am these last couple of years, and the people who have helped me the most (besides my husband) have been my found family because my real family has never been there.

It's okay to walk away. It's okay to look out for yourself. You do not need to stay in a situation that only hurts you. You do not need to surround yourself with people you have nothing in common with, just because you are family.

It's okay to walk away.

[bunnyscar]

Dreaming

Jeff woke to the sound of heavy breathing above him. Glowing golden eyes stared down hungrily at him, their intense gaze boring into his soul. Hot breath tickled his neck, sharp fangs glittering below the golden eyes. It was the stuff of nightmares. But it was not a nightmare.

“Alan?” Jeff said cautiously, slowly reaching over and turning on the lamp that stood on his bedside table. Alan was perched on the side of the bed, quite close to Jeff’s head, staring at him. Now that the light shone on him, his eyes looked more normal, and his teeth were only showing because he was yawning. He looked almost comical with his bed head and the rubber ducky pajamas Jeff’s sister Tessa had bought him.

“What’s wrong? Why did you come in here?” Jeff asked, stifling a yawn. Glancing at the digital clock on his table, he saw it was only 3 a.m.

“You were making noise,” Alan said flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry if that woke you. I guess I must have had a dream and grunted in my sleep. I don’t remember the dream though.” Jeff paused, then said slowly, “Did I really grunt that loudly for you to hear it?”

Alan shifted and looked away. “I was awake anyway. And the house is quiet.”

“You couldn’t sleep?”

“Bad dreams,” Alan muttered, glaring at the floor.

Jeff asked gently, “Do you want to sit up together and color for a bit?” Alan nodded slowly. Jeff grabbed their coloring books and pencils, and soon they were sitting cross-legged together on the bed, coloring away in peaceful silence.

Alan hadn’t been much in Jeff’s room, despite having lived with him and Tessa now for several months. It was rather odd to see him sitting on Jeff’s bed, hunched over a coloring book with a very serious face, as if making the dog in the picture red was the most important thing he’d ever done. Jeff smiled to himself. There were many good memories in this room: the faded pink blanket that had belonged to his grandmother and was the only reminder he had of her; the picture of his grandfather that stood like a sentinel above his desk, surveying the room with a discerning gaze; and the paper cranes that Tessa had made him with on his tenth birthday. Glancing down at the coloring page in his hands, Jeff knew he would have another memory to keep now. A memory of spending time in the middle of the night with a good friend.

“Jeff,” Alan suddenly spoke, bringing Jeff out of his thoughts. “Do you...ever have nightmares?”

“Hmm, I don’t have them so much now, but I used to have several when I was younger. Things like monsters chasing me, or sometimes I would dream that I was all alone in a labyrinth and couldn’t get out.”

Alan tapped his pencil against the page he was working on, his brow creasing slightly with unease. “Nightmares...make you afraid, don’t they? That’s what you call that emotion?”

Jeff nodded. Alan’s tapping became faster. “I had a nightmare,” he murmured. “I was running from something, and I had to get away before time was up. There was someone with me. But then I couldn’t run anymore. And there was blood, blood everywhere. Blood pooling on the floor because the other person was dead. Blood coming from me. Blood….but I was terrified by it. In the dream, I was scared of the blood.”

Alan looked up at Jeff then, and the hollow look in his eyes broke Jeff’s heart. Alan knew little about emotions or how to express them, and often he had only one facial expression, a fierce, angry look. But now his eyes were full of horror, of dark despair and fear. If there had been any emotion Jeff did not wish Alan knew, it was this terror.

“Jeff, I was scared of the blood. As a vampire and a monster, I’m always attracted to blood. It makes me go crazy. But in the dream, I was repulsed and horrified by it. Which can only mean—I was human in my dream.” Dead silence filled the room for a moment, Jeff processing what Alan had just revealed. Taking a deep breath, Alan said shakily, “I hate this dream, I hate feeling so scared. But I also don’t want this dream to go away, because—it’s the only way I can be human.”

“Then, why don’t we give you a new dream, one where you can still be human but not scared,” Jeff said slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s something my grandfather told me to do when I was scared at night. If I had a bad dream or kept seeing things in the dark, he told me to make up stories about the scary things and change them into not-so-scary things. For example, that wardrobe,” he pointed to a wooden closet in the corner, “used to scare me all the time because of the shapes the wood grain makes. In the dark, I thought they were monsters that would come get me when I fell asleep. I started telling myself, though, that they were fairies, and they would come take me to dream land where we would play soccer and have parties all night long. Once I started thinking about that, I’d fall asleep before I knew it.”

Alan stared thoughtfully at the ground, a slight frown on his face. “I guess it might be kind of cheesy, but it worked for me,” Jeff said apologetically.

“Thanks, I’ll try it,” Alan said slowly.

“And if you ever need to get up and color with me, don’t worry about waking me. I’m always happy to stay up with you,” Jeff offered.

For a few nights after that, Alan did come in and ask to color with Jeff. But slowly, he came less, and he seemed to be sleeping better. It wasn’t until a week later that Jeff realized how effective his advice had been.

He walked into the kitchen one morning to find Alan sitting at the table, Tessa leaning over his shoulder and exclaiming over something. Looking up as Jeff came in, Tessa said eagerly, “Hey, hey, come look at this! Alan drew something completely original!” Jeff walked over curiously. Alan was an excellent artist, but so far he had only copied other artwork, not drawn anything that he himself had imagined.

Though some of the lines were shakier than in his other pictures, this picture was still quite good. It showed two boys, one grey and one brown-haired, and they were drawing a big picture of Clifford the Big Red Dog on the ground. The boys were smiling at each other, hands poised with chalk to continue drawing. They were smiling. Alan was smiling in this picture. For Jeff was sure that the two boys were meant to be him and Alan.

“Alan, is this…”Jeff started to say.

“It’s thanks to you, Jeff,” Alan said gruffly, not looking at him, but Jeff could tell he was happy. Jeff gazed at the picture again and smiled. Even if Alan could not smile yet in real life, there would come a day when he could smile. When this picture would not be just a dream, but a reality.

Previous ||

P.S. just a little fangirling over my own characters:

Alan puts Clifford in his picture because he likes children's books. Though he looks like he's sixteen, he's really only a few years old since he was created in a lab. Even though he can read higher level books and understand them for the most part, he enjoys children's books more because they are simpler.

[impromptu-sketches]

Jinx chapter 37 spoilers & more predictions!!

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I have many many thoughts about how the rest of Jinx might play out!

First, I think Dan will be too sick to be able to help Jaekyung with his jinx before the match and Jaekyung will lose. And I think it's obvious to all of us that he'll blame Dan for it.

(Side note: if that happens I'm so curious if Jaekyung will try to find someone else last minute. I said to my bf, 'is he going to try to fuck Potato?!' I don't really see that happening though. And I don't think he'll try to find a stranger because they're in a foreign country and it's just too risky)

Some different scenarios/predictions in my head:

It's still possible that after losing the fight and going back to South Korea, Dan's grandmother passes away. And through that, Jaekyung continues to treat him terribly and it becomes too much for Dan and he leaves. To me, 1/5. Not very likely.

Jaekyung will blame Dan so much so that he'll fire him and kick him out of his place. I didn't really think this would happen at first, but if there's no other giant event (like Dan's grandmother dying) that makes Dan angry enough to leave, Jaekyung has to be the one to end things. I don't think it'll be Dan to walk away because 1. the debt 2. he'll feel really bad that he wasn't able to help with the jinx and feel even more awful that Jaekyung lost. He'll also blame himself. And overall Dan wants to support Jaekyung. So there's no reason he would leave him unless he got angry enough. Likelihood 3/5.

If Jaekyung fires Dan, maybe (because we know the entire team and coaches love Dan) the team will disagree with Jaekyung's decision (and they don't know about the jinx and their relationship/feelings) and walk away with Dan or just tell Jaekyung he's wrong. Either way, I think Jaekyung will stand behind his decision. So he may have a team that's upset with him or no team at all. 3/5.

Jaekyung loses and fires Dan, the team does nothing because they have no choice. There's a time skip with Jaekyung and Dan apart. 2/5, I think the team would at least try to convince Jaekyung that he was wrong to fire Dan.

Jaekyung loses the match and gets injured badly - either his shoulder or another injury - and he still blames Dan and fires him. But now he has to stop training to recover. 4/5. I think this is the most likely.

Like I said at the beginning of Jinx in a previous post, I HOPE that Jaekyung hits rock bottom. Hard. Then does some serious self reflection and realizes all of his mistakes and apologizes to Dan. Basically becomes a new man.

BUT the major thing to me is Dan's grandmother, because we know she's his #1 priority.

So, if Dan's grandmother passing away isn't part of them separating (which right now seems like it's not going to the case), I think it will be the reason they see each other again.

We know that Jaekyung seems to have a soft spot for her. He visited her in the hospital, chatted with her, and left a great impression. He didn't have to do -any- of that. But he did.

So, if after Dan's fired or they're separated for whatever reason, Jaekyung might seek Dan out to comfort him after he hears his grandmother passed away. Assuming there's at least a little time skip and he's done all of his self reflection beforehand. I think he'll secretly pay for a beautiful funeral or at least show up to pay his respects.

I'm also curious (worried) what would happen if Jaekyung doesn't fire Dan. Would he just abuse him more? Treat him so bad that Dan leaves him?? As always, I'm worried for Dan.

[malulls]

Happy birthday, love

Manorian roommates au

Masterlist

Manon opened her eyes. And regretted it. She had only needed to be awake for seconds, and before she could try to not think about it, the date seemed to lodge like a stone right over her head. Making it pretty clear that it didn't matter that it was almost half the day already, there were still fourteen more hours to endure and ignoring it was not an option.

As soon as she left the bathroom she went straight to the kitchen, to the cabinet where she and Dorian kept alcohol to decide how badly this was going to start. Asterin had already texted her, and as grateful as she was for her cousin, who always found a way to come up with a cupcake or a cookie with a candle even when she was too small to be able to do that, she had no mind to deal with that now. Dorian was already awake, leaning against the counter with a mug that she bet was full of tea.

— Good morning, sleeping beauty.

— Good morning. — she murmured, moving toward the cabinet. Dorian simply slid in front of her.

— No.

— What the hell do you mean with no?

Manon crossed her arms. Dorian knew how her birthday was a day that brought nothing but bad things, and how she dealt with it. He had seen her doing it for three years, promising to keep an eye on her even if he didn't know why. Now that he knew what made her so upset sometimes, he was smart enough to link one thing to another, but there was no way she would talk about it on that day. If he wanted to make her angry she would fight him without a second thought.

— I mean that there are years I've been watching you losing consciousness and today I'm not letting it.

The fucking audacity.

— And since when do you let me do anything?

He smiled, though she was almost groaning.

— Just change your clothes. As beautiful as you look in your gown, I don't think it's going to work where we're going.

She clenched her wrists. He noticed and wisely moved his body a bit away.

— The last thing I need is more reasons to feel like shit.

Dorian's smile faded and he set the mug on the counter, then took her clenched fists and ran his thumbs gently over her fingers until she opened her hands.

— I don't want to make you feel bad, witchling. I just want you to have fun, to distract your mind. If you're really feeling bad, we will come home and you can go into the worst possible alcoholic coma, I'll be here to keep you from dying. I always do it.

She knew he would. Damn Dorian for making her anger go away, the one she had learned to use as a shield to hide the scared, lonely little girl that seemed to never leave her. Now there was only an annoying need to hug him and ask him to just hold her until the day was over.

Distract her mind. It wasn't the first time Manon had wondered if the way she handled her birthday wasn't somehow letting her grandmother continue to have power over her. But it was never enough to make her act differently. She looked down at Dorian's fingers, still playing distractedly with hers.

She was going to regret that. Definitely.

— Fine. — she whispered, and his face was as surprised as she felt for agreeing.

— What?

— I said fine, and you have two minutes to get me to the car before I change my mind.

Manon had barely spoken, and a huge smile broke out on his face seconds before he tipped the rest of the tea in his mouth and pointed to their rooms.

— Then go change your clothes. Let's go.

—

Manon looked at the console for what seemed like the tenth time in thirty seconds. They had been traveling in Dorian's car for more than forty minutes now, and he still insisted on not telling her where to.

— Dorian?

— Hm?

— Are you kidnapping me?

He chuckled.

— We live in the same house.

— You have a point.

She leaned her head against the wall, already feeling regret. Why didn't she stay at home?

— Hey, no dismay — Dorian said as if he had read her mind — I promise that we can go wherever you want, even if it will make me scream like a baby.

That made her raise her head.

— What do you mean?

He didn't answer. But the car made a curve, and when it finished he smiled and pointed to her right. Further down, the road became a high white bridge, right above what she knew was the Istros river. But what caught her attention was what lay behind the bridge, in the middle of nothing but grass and a few buildings. She saw the Ferris Wheel first, then one of the highest roller coasters she had ever seen. As the car approached, they could see the entire length of the park, already crowded at that hour.

— You brought me to Lunathion? — she looked at the size of the roller coaster again, and what he said about screaming made sense

— Don't make that face, we both know how much you like a dose of adrenaline.

Okay, he was right. There was no way she could say she didn't.

— Low blow — Manon muttered. — How many gold bars did the ticket cost?

He looked actually offended.

— No way you're paying for your birthday present. Forget it.

— You're not going to fucking-

— Oh, I've already done it. Deal with it.

She held back the urge to punch him as they pulled into the parking lot. But as they entered, Manon thought maybe she was delirious, because her concern suddenly seemed to mix with excitement.

—

Lunathion looked like a huge party in the form of a park. It was divided in three parts that Manon knew shone in neon lights at night. The water part in blue, the extreme part in purple, and the central part in red. The Ferris Wheel was the exception, in golden lighting.

They walked in, and she grabbed him by the hand, before she could think better of it. Damn it. This was something they were doing quite often now, and she just wanted, needed, to understand what was going on between them, what it meant.

She led him to the Luna roller coaster, the one they saw from the road, her hand no longer so firmly around his.

— We're going on this. — she said, hoping he hadn't noticed whatever weird thing that had just happened.

— I'd rather go into this. — He turned her chin and pointed to a toy a few meters away with three pink clouds where children who couldn't be older than five were playing.

She chuckled. It felt a little weird.

— Fuck you. But we can go on something lighter, so you can prepare your psychology.

Dorian smiled. He liked adrenaline too, but definitely not as much as her.

— Deal.

—

The sun began to set as the roller coaster train slowly rolled along after the last lap on Luna. Dorian's head fell on Manon's shoulder, exhausted from screaming.

— I'll never — he said, panting. — never do that again.

Manon laughed. Really laughed.

— Too much for you, princeling?

He grunted, but ended up laughing too.

— Remind me why I like you so much.

Manon's smile faded. She knew he was joking, there was a playful smile on his face, but... Dorian dragged her out of home and made her smile all day. When he convinced her, against everything that made sense, to go on a water toy in the middle of the fucking winter, from where she came back all soaked while he was practically dry. When he insisted on winning something for her, a black stuffed dragon that was her new keychain, when he yelled much more than he was actually feeling afraid just to make her laugh.

Why he liked her so much?

She let her head fall on his. She had no idea, but she was grateful for that.

—

The lights of Lunathion were finally glowing in the evening and were beautiful from the Ferris Wheel view, giving a calm yet lively air to the park, as if the night was just beginning.

Manon was looking through the windows of the cabin, that soft smile Dorian loved painted on her face. Before he could stop himself, he slipped an arm around her waist. He didn't expect her to come closer, and rest her head on his shoulder.

— We can buy something strong before we get home, so you won't have to end the wine. — he said, breaking the quietness.

— I don't want it.

Surprise made his heart thunder in his chest.

— Seriously?

She lifted her face, and her eyes seemed to gleam with a dozen suns.

— Thank you. Really. The few times I've had fun on my birthday were years ago.

Dorian removed a few strands of hair from her face, his heart clenching for whatever had driven her to this, but also looking as if it would burst out of his chest at knowing that he was able to make her happy.

— Happy birthday, witchling. — It was the first time since they'd met he said that to her.

Her smile slowly disappeared, and he could swear that, just for a second, her gaze drifted to his mouth, making him very aware of how close they were. He lowered his fingers, but instead of taking them away he moved them to the back of her head, his breathing quickening when she didn't pull away. Dorian ran his fingertips along her hair, Manon leaned her face, up — closer to him.

And before either of them could do anything, a siren began to sound and the cabin doors opened. They both blinked, as if coming out of a trance. He hadn't realized that they had started moving again, and apparently neither had she. The two of them parted, coming back to reality abruptly as they left the cabin.

Despite the interruption and without realizing it, holding hands.

—

Manon turned off the bathroom lights, ready to finally fall into bed. As soon as they left the Ferris Wheel, they also left Lunathion. After some discussion, they agreed that she would drive back home. Dorian had passed out after five minutes on the road, which made her smile when she woke him up. It took him a few seconds to realize that they were already home, so he smiled at her. "As I said, I was perfectly able to drive."

He had showered first while she answered some messages from Elide, Sorrel, Vesta and Asterin, the last one promising that she would try to see her in the following week. And of course she couldn't help demanding a full report of the day and pointing out how much Dorian must be in love with her to do that, and that she was glad Manon had him.

Bullshit.

Manon slowly entered the room, closing the door softly.

— Awake?

— I don't know why you still ask. — Dorian said as she lay down beside him. — I always wait for you.

Truth.

— I think I'll sleep for another twelve hours. — she sighed. He reached out and pulled her to him.

— I guess I could stay in bed with you half the day.

Her heart raced, and she wondered when she had become such an idiot. She had had confused feelings all day, especially after what had happened, or not happened, on the Ferris wheel. The way he was looking at her was... Anyway, if Dorian kept saying those things she would probably go crazy.

His voice was so hoarse with sleep that she couldn't tell if the usual mocking tone was there.

— Are you talking in your sleep, princeling?

— No?

His arm relaxed around her waist, and he murmured a good night before falling asleep. Though the hazy thoughts were trying to enter her mind again, she was thankfully too exhausted for that. Besides, Manon had always been a master at ignoring her feelings.

— Good night, Dorian.

—————————————

Taglist

@strawberries-and-reveries @zoyalovesbooks @notyournymphetish @ladybookstan @witching-by-the-willow @celestialams @rubyriveraqueen @bookishwitchling @gwynkyrie @whoever-you-choose-to-love

[okcomputeroknotok19972017]

to start, i know that psychiatric diagnoses are not exact -- they're our best label for treating clusters of symptoms that tend to go together, but the borders get very fuzzy and they mesh and meld together and every person's experience and exact combination of neuroses is different. listing out all of the potential mental illnesses and developmental differences i have been variously diagnosed with makes me sound ridiculous to many people, like i'm collecting labels for the fun of it: major depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, inattentive ADHD, autism, possibly bipolar ... it all really comes down to being a generally neurotic and obsessive person, prone to bouts of suicidal depression and social isolation. i just call myself an eccentric.

psychiatry is strange. i was evaluated for ADHD but my case was 'subclinical' because i wasn't struggling enough academically at the very moment i was evaluated. i'm personally not interested in being evaluated for autism because as likely as it may be, i don't have a comorbid intellectual or cognitive disability that impairs my functioning and being treated for my other mental health issues would probably do more for my social difficulties than anything else. i know i'll never stop having circumscribed interests or feeling fundamentally different from other people, but when i don't feel so sad i get along better. i sometimes explain to people that i'm very likely autistic and they forgive/stop making fun of some of my strange tendencies, but that's about as far as that label takes me. i definitely have OCD and that's one label that i find extremely fitting. my therapist and i have talked extensively about it and done some acceptance therapy, i wasn't ever clinically evaluated but she was the first one to bring it up as a very obvious struggle of mine and understanding myself as obsessive-compulsive has helped me a lot.

i wouldn't normally be so worried about untangling the differences between three very similar mental illnesses given the fuzzy boundaries, but the question of if i have bipolar disorder has really been nagging at me -- mostly because my symptoms make me want to kill myself. bipolar disorder runs in my family and i've been questioning for about two years now if i've got bipolar ii or cyclothymia or if my frequent depressive episodes are just being exacerbated by my OCD and that neuroticism and urgent panic is similar to what would be known as hypomania. getting this figured out matters to me because finding the right combination of therapy and medication that is usually used to treat these symptoms would really help me. i'll say that lamotrigine/lamictal, commonly prescribed for bipolar patients, has been the single most helpful medication i've ever been on. if i weren't on it, i would be a wreck.

hmm. i'm not asking any commenters to armchair diagnose me, i guess i'm just thinking out loud. i'm not really sure how to broach the topic of bipolar with my psych or my therapist without setting off "google doctor" alarm bells ... and i have to admit, i'm worried that people will look at me differently with that label attached. i'm used to my OCD being misunderstood and stigmatized but people usually have a better understanding of it after i explain what it's really like, but bipolar is extremely stigmatized. i'll see it listed as a severe mental illness (and i suppose it is, but i still get that defense "hey! you don't know what it's like!" sort of reaction to it), most people are scared of it or hateful towards it, and i guess there's a kernel of truth to it somewhere. my grandmother had a pretty acute case. she was a very complicated person, and she really hurt some people. lithium helped her. it helped my mom's major depression, too. i'm scared that i am going to hurt people. sometimes i feel so angry that i want to hit something, i want to make someone else feel as bad as i do, sometimes i feel so desperately lonely and terrified that i cling onto people like they're the only thing keeping me afloat. ultimately i'm far too nervous and passive to do much of anything and i'm very good at holding in my most extreme emotions, but i fear it leeches out of me. i break everything i touch. i don't want to break people.

i look up things like "bipolar celebrities" to make myself feel better and like there is hope, and all the lists are the same: this person killed themself, this person killed themself, this person did something awful and lives in disgrace, this person killed themself, this person killed themself, this person killed themself ... so far it's not done much to soothe my nerves. i guess carrie fisher did alright for herself though, yea?

... i don't want to be my grandmother. i don't want my neuroticism and irrational emotions to be taken out on the people i love, taken out on anyone, really. world's longest sigh. i'll get shit figured out eventually. my recently upped dosage of lamotrigine should keep me afloat for a while. i'm gonna play minecraft now

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

Things are not okay.

Some things that are okay:

-was able to get a somewhat decent deal with my credit card to bring down the interest rate and monthly payments

-my Christmas rover sit cancelled last minute, but I was able to fill the spots thankfully

-I’m not homeless?

Things that are not okay are under the cut

I feel really trapped in my living and financial situation. We looked at rent again, and studios are going for about 1100$. Not worth it but we’re gonna have to figure out how to make it work.

The roommates have been fighting really bad again and my PTSD isn’t having a good moment. I feel frustrated and stupid because I know it’s not happening to me, but it’s triggering all the memories and feelings of things that did happen to me in the last.

And I’m angry because I escaped that situation 5 years ago now. And every time I think I’ve lost the weight of it, I find out it’s just been buried.

Last night, I just kept thinking about how my ex’s grandmother must have felt living with us. If she felt as annoyed or scared or sad as I do in this situation. And I feel immensely terrible for putting her in that spot. But it also wasn’t entirely on me.

I thought to myself now, what am I feeling? Because I’ve been snapping at M all day today and he isn’t doing anything wrong. I KNOW he isn’t my ex husband and i KNOW this isn’t the same situation, but my body feels so panicked and scared and unsafe. I don’t know how to relax myself. I’m not doing okay.

We almost had to find a hotel last night because they were screaming so loud. The not-friend-roommate slammed her door so hard the house shook. She does that a lot. Things fall off the wall and break. I don’t feel safe.

So I’m trying to figure out what I’m feeling and why I’m acting out at M when their fights have (relatively) nothing to do with us. (I’m sure we are a stressor tho). And I think my body is just stuck, or maybe my brain. I don’t know. Logically, I know where I am, emotionally, I may as well still be in the past.

The memories make me feel so angry and so sad that I allowed those things to happen to me. But it’s in the past, so why can’t I let it go?

In therapy, we talked a lot about healing my inner child. But I think moments like these it’s about healing the parts of me that were abused. And I don’t know how to do that.

I thought writing this out would be helpful but I don’t think it was.

[evanisalittlelost]

It's been one of those days.

I kinda had an episode last night, and I'm still recovering from it. Sometimes, I feel like I can't function by myself. Which is part of the reason I moved back in with Dad. Well, that and when he was gone, I was an absolute mess. I did not leave the shop for weeks after I met Nero for the first time. Anyway, I'm still... broken.

This time of year absolutely sucks for me. I know I mentioned that in another post, but I have to talk about these things in bits and pieces. It's not easy to explain what I went through as a child. The bullying was only a small part of my problems. My grandparents (Mom's parents) did not really love me. They tolerated me at best. My grandmother was worse than my grandfather. To this day, I still refer to them as 'the Mafia' because, at one point, they came to try and get me back.

Yeah... you can just imagine the field day my Dad had with them. Especially when he had Morrison go through all the trouble of forging my birth certificate and identification records to keep me out of their hands. The Mafia had the absolute nerve to come to Devil May Cry and slap a warrant for Dad's arrest on his desk. WITH police in tow.

Oh yeah. He was pissed.

This was about a year after the realized I was still alive. They told everyone that I had dragged off by an animal out in the forest, which is why they never recovered my 'body' and were so heartbroken about it. Then they had people watching my Dad the whole time.

Apparently, I was going to inherit their money or something like that. I don't care to know the full details. Not important anyway. But it's the abuse that I went through growing up in that mansion that I can't get over. I wasn't physically abused, I was emotionally abused and treated as Mom's pet.

I'll make it clear that Mom did not treat me like that at all. She was the only person who really loved me, but they tried to keep us separated as much as possible. The Mafia is exactly what they sound like.

I almost drowned under their watch and they didn't do shit about it.

I'm getting angry just thinking about it. The worst part is up until I turned 18, they still got their lawyer to send a letter to my Dad every year about how they could pursue him for legal charges. He pinned the letters up on the wall and used them to play a really fun game of darts. We don't get letters anymore, but I did hear that the Mafia has lost quite a bit of money in a bad investment.

Karma is a bitch.

Still, this is just one of the many problems I'm dealing with emotionally. The good thing is that I am in the right place with the right people. I have a family that really loves me. They aren't all blood relation, but they are my family.

Okay, I've made myself cry. I'm gonna stop here before I have another episode and this has gone on entirely to long.

Thanks for reading 😊

I'm gonna go make some hot chocolate and watch anime with Dad now.