#i wish i could run away to somewhere i don't have to constantly keep my guard up

[anyasathenaeum]

Our Father, Who Art In Heaven (98!WW X Reader Smut)

A/N: Hey everybody, I'm baaaaack! It's been a bit of a stressful and busy time, but hopefully you guys can enjoy this. I actually wrote this piece well over a year ago privately (for my dearest and best friend, @vanille-sweet, who has kindly granted me permission to alter and share this work so you can all enjoy it!). Literally nobody asked for this but here, have it anyways. I went with 98!WW here. Please be nice. Warnings: MINORS DNI!, AFAB!Reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), sacrilege (y'all get nasty in a church), oral (female receiving), P in V sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), a tiny hint of exhibitionism towards the end, WW has a thing for being called "Father" (does that count as a daddy kink?...), no established relationship

Time on the road was wearing you down.

Slowly but surely, you felt your resilience and your drive to continue beginning to die out. Everything was becoming too much for you to handle. From the chaos of being around Vash, all the people hunting him down and, by extension, you and the others, to just constantly moving from town to town, you found yourself exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, you were drained.

What you hadn't expected was to find solace and a moment of peace in a place you had only stepped foot into maybe once before - a church. It was nothing special - no beautiful stained glass windows, no huge arches, no beautiful, expensive chandeliers. Just a small building with an alter, a confessional, and a bunch of small, wooden pews for those wishing to pray in this tiny town.

You now found yourself sitting in one of those pews, entirely alone in the whole building, left to be with your thoughts and emotions and try to sort yourself out. You sighed heavily, resting your head on the pew in front of you, shutting your eyes tightly as your exhaustion coursed through you.

"Hey, pretty lady, whatcha doing here in the house of the Lord?"

The sudden voice scared the crap out of you, causing you to yelp and jump straight out of your skin, turning to see Wolfwood standing there, smiling coolly as if he hadn't just scared you.

"Oh, Wolfwood, it's just you. You startled me," You replied, letting out a deep breath and lean back against the pew where you were sitting, your gaze going straight up to the ceiling as you answered him, "I'm just... thinking."

Wolfwood didn't say anything as he approached you, sitting directly next to you in the same pew. Once he had been seated, he spoke softly.

"Thinking about what? You don't look too happy, I gotta say. It's not a good look on you, (Y/N)."

You just scoffed and shot him a look, "That's rich, coming from you, Mr. Preacher Man."

That drew a chuckle from the priest, who brought his arm around your shoulders and drew you in close to him, bringing a blush you hoped he wouldn't see to your cheeks.

"Seriously, (Y/N). What's on your mind?"

He spoke softer, his voice gentler than before. Wolfwood always surprised you with how kind he could be - you never anticipated it, for some reason. But right now, you didn't mind one bit. It felt nice, having just one person there with you right now, and Wolfwood seemed like the perfect person to talk to about your troubles.

"I just..." You sighed out, "I'm struggling to keep going on. Constantly being on the run is starting to drain me. I wish I could just... stay somewhere for a little. Forget about life for a moment. You know?"

Wolfwood was smiling down at you softly as you spoke, nodding his head in understanding, "Yeah, I get it. It's a lot. But you're strong, pretty lady. Don't doubt that for a second."

You felt your blush darkening as you looked away from him for a moment, quietly mumbling "Thanks, Wolfwood" in return.

Of course, though, Wolfwood noticed your blush and tilted your head towards him, his fingers under your jaw firm in their motion but somehow still gentle. You felt your heart rate hit the roof as you looked up at him - he was exceptionally handsome. You always knew as much, but now... it felt like you were really seeing him for the first time. His dark skin, his eyes, his curved nose, his muscled figure, his dark hair, everything was suddenly hitting you all at once and the thoughts going through your mind were bordering on unholy for being in such a holy place.

"Ya know... you're pretty much in confessional right now, pretty lady. Got any sins you wanna get off your chest?"

Wolfwood's tone was sultry and gently teasing, his dark eyes scanning your face for signs of a reaction to his comment. You, however, took this as a challenge and decided not to make it easy for him.

"My sins are all I have left in my life, Father," You replied, your own tone dropping and silky smooth as you answered, "I have nothing but my sins to hold onto."

You could see Wolfwood's face changing colour at your answer, and you could see him swallowing hard as he processed your tone and your words. You had succeeded in flustering the priest back just as he had flustered you, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest.

After a few moments, Wolfwood had recovered and immediately took it one step further, bringing his face down close to yours. So close that you could feel his breath fanning across your skin as he spoke.

"Then... why don't I give you something else to hold onto?"

Your eyes widened at what he was insinuating - he couldn't possibly be serious. Could he?

"My, my, Wolfwood... are you suggesting what I think you are? And in a church, no less?"

Your tone was teasing, but you genuinely wanted to know if Wolfwood was seriously asking you if you wanted to sleep with him in a church. You knew that if Wolfwood was even the slightest bit serious in his teasing, you would accept without hesitation. It had been forever since you'd had sex with anybody, and the last time it had been some random stranger in a one-night stand. But Wolfwood... that would be sex to remember.

Wolfwood grinned cheekily at you, bringing himself closer until his lips were mere centimeters away from yours, "What's the point of absolving people of sin if they have no sins to absolve, eh, pretty lady? Makes my job more interesting."

"Oh, so I'm just a job to you, then?" You snapped at him - there was no way you were gonna let him get away with this.

You weren't making it easy for him to get into your pants, regardless of how badly you wanted it. You stood up, scoffing as you walked past him and begun walking towards the alter of the church, pretending to be upset with him to get him riled up.

"Hey, wait, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That's not what I meant, I just-" Wolfwood was explaining as he followed you up to where you stood at the front of the church, "I just meant-"

You couldn't keep it in any longer, bursting into laughter at his attempts to fix the "damage" he had done. The look of confusion and disbelief on his face was worth it, causing you to laugh harder.

"Oh, Wolfwood! Your face!" You were laughing hysterically, almost doubling over from laughing as you heard him grumbling under his breath. Once you recovered from your laughing fit, you turned to Wolfwood and walked up to him, getting all up in his personal space the way he had done with you earlier.

"So... Father... you gonna punish me for my sins?"

Your tone was sultry and silky again, low and seductive as your breath ghosted over his skin. You could see the goosebumps raising across Wolfwood's skin at your words, and you knew then and there you had him hook, line and sinker.

Sure enough, without saying another word, Wolfwood was pressing you up against the wall near the alter of the church, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, messy, heated kiss. You could feel every muscled plane of Wolfwood's body pressing against yours, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you kissed him back hungrily.

"God..."

The whisper that escaped Wolfwood was breathless, as if the kiss and the taste and feeling of you had knocked the wind straight out of him. You just smirked up at him, panting slightly.

"I thought you weren't supposed to use the Lord's name in vain, Father."

The growl that left Wolfwood's throat was beyond primal, and you soon found yourself with his lips pressed against yours once more, his tongue soon exploring your mouth as yours explored his, relishing his taste and the feeling of him against you. His leg nudged yours apart, and you let out a stifled moan into his mouth as his thigh brushed against your clothed core, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"N-Nicholas," You moaned out, panting more heavily than before, struggling to find words as you felt his thigh continuing to brush against your core.

The smirk on Wolfwood's face was large, and it only grew as he brought his hand down to wrestle your pants off, revealing your underwear and the extremely noticeable wet spot forming on them from your arousal.

"Well, well, well, pretty lady," Wolfwood growled, "Seems somebody's enjoying herself."

"More," You moaned out, not caring of the location anymore - you wanted Wolfwood and you wanted him now, "More, Nicholas, please, more."

"Shhh, (Y/N). Don't you know patience is a virtue?" Wolfwood teased you gently, his fingers beginning to rub circles over your clit through your underwear, drawing more beautiful moans out of you.

"S-Sorry, Father," You replied, a small smile appearing on your lips as a groan escaped from Wolfwood as you spoke the word "Father" - it confirmed your suspicions that Wolfwood got turned on being called as such.

"Good girl," Wolfwood praised you, before kneeling down in front of you.

He slowly but surely pulled your underwear down and off of your body, before lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over his shoulder, raising your leg slightly and exposing your pussy to him, dripping wet from his touch and his taste and his words. The moan Wolfwood let out at the sight of your pussy had you blushing, and then you suddenly heard him mumbling something lowly. It took you a few moments to realize that he was praying.

"N-Nick?" You whined, shifting slightly as you desperately wanted him to touch you, even if only for half a second, but Wolfwood just continued praying until you were whining more and more. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard Wolfwood mumble "Amen", signaling he was done praying.

"What was that?" You asked, looking down at him, your face flushed red as you gazed at the man who was level with your pussy.

A devilishly charming smile appeared on his face as he replied simply, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world, "I was saying grace and giving thanks for the meal I'm about to have."

Your expression became one of confusion, but before you could understand what Wolfwood had meant, Wolfwood leaned forward and immediately begin to eat you out like a starved man.

You almost shrieked at how amazing it felt, your hands burying themselves in the priest's dark hair as he continued to lick your pussy, alternating between licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue. You had all but lost the ability to form coherent words, the only thing leaving you being moans, high-pitched whines, whimpers and Wolfwood's name on repeat.

"God, (Y/N), you taste incredible," Wolfwood moaned into your pussy, causing your cheeks to heat up and a particularly loud moan to slip from your lips.

You couldn't say anything in response, only bucking your hips so that Wolfwood could fuck you with his tongue a bit deeper, and suck on your clit just a touch harder.

The pressure within you was building, the coil of pleasure tightening more and more until you were right near the edge. As if reading your body and your thoughts, Wolfwood continued to eat you out but then slipped one of his fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry out. The sudden intrusion was welcomed, with you bucking your hips more as you chased your high, moaning louder and louder. Then, to your surprise, you felt Wolfwood moving his finger within you in a "come-hither" motion, grazing over that spongy spot inside you perfectly until you cried out and the coil of pleasure suddenly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves, over and over.

Wolfwood didn't move from your pussy, continuing to lick you and eat you out until you were completely down from your orgasm. When he finally withdrew, he was smirking widely, your slick all over his lips and chin, even as he pressed forward and kissed you, causing you to moan loudly as your tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. You don't know how, but this man, this priest, was making you feel better than anybody else ever had.

You simply continued to kiss Wolfwood passionately, your hands coming down to fumble with his belt, all but ripping it open and pulling his pants down enough so that you could palm his rock-hard cock. You gasped slightly at the feeling of Wolfwood, and you realized that this man was BIG. You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks turning a bright red as you spoke up softly.

"Nicholas, a-are you sure you're gonna... fit?"

The smile on Wolfwood's face was big, and you could hear him chuckle as he leaned in for another passionate kiss.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I think we got you well prepared to take it."

With that, Wolfwood pressed you back into the wall, lifting your leg into the crook of his elbow, stretching you open a bit more so that he could glide his cock over your pussy, letting out a moan as he watched and felt his cock brush against your slick, soft skin. If it was up to him, Wolfwood would've already been fucking you hard. But he knew this was the first time you two were together like this, so he should play nice.

"God, I've wanted you for so long, sweetheart."

You almost missed his words, your eyes widening at the priest's confession, your mind wandering away from the feeling of his cock against your pussy for a moment as you processed that. You just smirked in reply.

"Well, now you have me. Make it good, Wolfwood, and I'll consider doing this with you again."

Not needing to be issued the challenge twice, Wolfwood immediately adjusted himself so that his cockhead caught on your entrance, and in one slow, steady thrust, sheathed himself completely within you.

The cry of his name that left your throat as he did so would forever be engraved in Wolfwood's mind, and it would be something he'd strive to hear again and again for every day for the rest of his life. The feeling of your warm, tight walls clenching down around him was SO much better than he'd envisioned all those times he'd touched himself to the thought of fucking you. This was incomparable.

"O-Oh, God, (Y/N)..."

The broken moan that slipped from Wolfwood's lips made you clench tighter around him, pulling another moan from him in return. He was already so stupidly close to cumming, it was unbelievable. Just the feeling of sliding into you and feeling you around him was enough to get him close to the edge.

On your end, the sting of the stretch of Wolfwood entering you surprised you, causing you to hiss a bit at the feeling - he really was big. You hadn't ever been stretched as much during sex as you were being right now, and it was enough for you to know that you'd definitely want to fuck Wolfwood again and again and again. He just made you feel so full. It was incredible, feeling him pressed up inside you, his cock pressing on all the right places just sitting within you, not even moving yet.

"I-" You hiccupped, trying hard to form words, "You can move, now."

Wolfwood was now the one unable to speak, taking a moment before nodding and pulling himself out of you slowly before thrusting back into you hard. Immediately you moaned, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him down so you could kiss him. You and Wolfwood were moaning into each other's mouths as he fucked you at the alter of the church, with you begging him to move faster, thrust harder as that familiar coil of pleasure began to build within you again, faster than ever before.

"F-Father, I- I'm gonna-" You stuttered, your voice high-pitched and breathless as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you out over and over, brushing over that spot deep inside you that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Cum for me, (Y/N), cum for me," Wolfwood growled, his hands grabbing your ass with a grip tight enough that you were sure he'd bruise you and slamming your hips forward in time with his thrusts, somehow going even deeper than he was going before.

Just feeling him grip you and manhandle you like that and hearing him growl alongside all the other sensations raging through your body immediately brought you straight over the edge, you crying out Wolfwood's name over and over as you came again, clenching down on him harder than ever before, milking his cock as you came on him.

That feeling of you squeezing him harder, your walls fluttering on his cock brought Wolfwood to the brink in an instant, another broken moan escaping his lips as he thrusted into you a few final times, "I'm cumming, oh, God, (Y/N), I'm cumming!"

You felt Wolfwood thrust into you one final time, all the way to the hilt and a warm feeling bloomed within your abdomen, signaling that Wolfwood had made good on his promise, cumming deep inside you. Both of you were panting hard as he let your leg down, his cock slipping from within you, both of you letting out a moan as he did so.

"O-Oh, my God..." You panted, your legs shaking as you looked at the priest, your eyes shining from the afterglow of your orgasm, "Nicholas, th-that was amazing..."

Wolfwood simply grinned at you as if he hadn't just fucked you better than any other man had before, before pulling his pants back up and getting himself more cleaned up. As you went to put your underwear back on, Wolfwood reached out and slapped your wrist.

"Ah, ah, ah. Leave those off."

You just gave him a confused look as he began to walk towards the entrance of the church, calling out, "What, why? Wolfwood, I can't walk back to the inn with no underwear on."

The priest smirked as he answered, "Yes, you can. Because I hope to sin with you again tonight the minute we get back to the inn. What do you think about that?"

You let out a small laugh, your pussy clenching at the thought of Wolfwood fucking you again tonight, and you could feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to trickle down your thighs. Regardless, you began to follow Wolfwood out of the church, heading back to the inn.

"I think I'm gonna have to actually go to confessional after all this."

And you couldn't have been happier.

[tenthcrowley]

Show: Doctor Who

Character: Tenth Doctor

Reader: Gender not specified

Summary: More and more questions without answers started to rise. Neither of you know exactly what to do next or even how, but you're sure you need answers.

The Prologue. [...] Chapter Three. | Chapter Four |

DREAMING

Chapter Four

The Doctor starts to walk around the TARDIS control room, he looks like he's thinking too many things at once. You don't blame him, you don't even know what to think anymore. It feels like your brain is working so much that it's completely blank.

"Do you think that I brought you here?" You ask him with concern. How in the world could you do that? I mean, there's no logical explanation. Well, the Doctor being there is enough to stop thinking logically.

He looks at you and gets closer. He's frowning and you're trying to, somehow, read his mind or something.

"I'm not sure how I can explain this. Travelling to another universe just by thought?" And he's talking to himself now. Typical. You just stand there and watch him think to himself, silently, which is rare of him.

"Let's say you brought me here, somehow. What else were you imagining? Because if you pulled me to your universe, what or who else can you bring here?" The question puts you off. You know you're very imaginative, you're constantly daydreaming about impossible things and your favourite characters or worlds you wish you could live in.

You don't know how to answer him. Yes, it is simple to answer but at the same time you don exactly know how to do so. It's confusing to understand a mind of your own especially when you're living in a situation like this one. Sci-fi in real life? How's that possible? It's not!

"I.. I pictured you here, right?" You suddenly walk out of the TARDIS to your flat. You look at the blue box from where you stood when it first appeared. The Doctor follows you, a little confused but intrigued. "I imagine myself living in other worlds mostly, never characters or other worlds in mine. But this time, I pictured you here." The doctor seems to have some sort of revelation. He gets it now.

"You said 'mostly'. Do you imagine other things here? Like you did with me?"

"Yes! Oh God. This is bad, this is really bad." You start walking around your flat, grabbing your head and thinking about all the damage you could do to your own universe. The things you imagine could actually appear and be real. It sounds great maybe, but it certainly won't be.

"Stop! Stop thinking!" The Doctor runs towards you and grabs you by the shoulders. "I don't know what you're... creating up there, don't tell me it could make it worse. But if you keep going, you could bring more stuff into your universe and it could collapse."

You knew that pretty well, you've watched the episodes. But still, being told that by The Doctor, It's different. This is real, it's happening, it's not your imagination this time. Well kind of involved.

"I just can't not think about it! if you tell me to not think about it, I will think about it!" You cried out and then sighed frustratedly. Everything is just so confusing and you feel lost, very lost. Now you have more questions than answers.

You looked at the Doctor and then at the TARDIS. Everything you've wished for, everything you've dreamed of was right there in front of you. Well, the TARDIS wasn't working but if you both manage to somehow fix it, you could just ask the Doctor to take you. You have hopes which win over every single bad thought you could have that is just mostly reality. Still, another universe, you know the problems of that.

"My TARDIS started to malfunction before landing here." His sudden break of silence brings you back to reality. You listen as he looks away, thinking. "If you think that the TARDIS works or... or if you think about me travelling somewhere else, it might work."

You think about it, now he'd be right. That could actually work since you're using the (non)logic of the facts. And you want to just make him happy and put him back where he came from, however it's nice to be with him and share moments with a character you only saw fictionally until now. It's like a vivid dream, a literal dream came true and now you have to let go forever basically. You never knew you could do this until this very moment and you already had to stop. But you think and you think about the possibilities of everything, of all the questions, of what can be done and what can't, on what it's true and what's not.

But the Doctor is there looking at you with puppy eyes, one could say. You can tell by his eyes only he misses his home, his universe, his own planets and he's afraid. Because it's what he knows and travelling around the multiverse never occurs to him because he knows the risks. It just wasn't possible. But it is, now.

But again, so many questions unanswered and you just have to let him go?

"How... how can I do this? Why?" Your voice breaks the silence this time. Your brain is just filled with questions and possible answers and so, so much curiosity. "You're fictional for me, why did I bring you here? How can I possibly do that? You have a TARDIS, and you don't even do it! How can I by just pure thought?"

And you know the Doctor is irresistible for the unknown yet to explore.

"...How?"

[sleepyjaneart]

WWE!Epic the Musical headcanon

Ever since I found this musical out back in July and Jorge's inspiration on fighting games, I've been nursing this idea for WWE headcanons and I need somewhere to vomit all my thoughts out. I have a couple of sketches and references and I'm putting it all under a readmore cause it might be long.

So this all started with Ruthlessness being an absolute BANGER and I love all the animatics that came of it! But I noticed that, in all of them, their Poseidon was always so ANGRY (which, duh) but I also interpreted that Poseidon was also having some vicious fun in a "watch this, I'm about to make this guy's life miserable lol" kinda way. Also, the chorus right at the start chanting Poseidon's name felt so much like one of those super dramatic, fireworks and crowd yelling, WWE entrances that my mind couldn't help but run with the idea.

(this is where I should clarify that I have never watched WWE or wrestling in any form in my life, though it has always looked fascinating to me. I am only going by what I know from cultural osmosis and it would be so cool if people more savvy could add in their ideas to this)

And as much as I wish I could say "I'll just make my own animatic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ" the fact is that those are incredibly hard to do and I barely draw nowadays so... long text post it is!

So, I'm still playing around with Poseidon's design but I would like to keep it pretty simple. He's one of the major gods with some pretty straightforward domains, so he doesn't need a whole lot to show that he's lord of the seas and earthshaker. I like the idea that the lower in the god ladder it goes, the more work the godlings have to put to make their domain idea come across. Also, with this being WWE inspired, the outfits will look a bit more modern (picking Jorge's idea of more modern = more magical/god-like) but I also don't want them to look too out of place when facing mortals.

Taking inspiration from wrestlers like Mark Henry or athletes like Eddie Hall (especially the latter), I'm imagining a thickset, heavyweight fighter that looks like he could tap earth or water and it would send everything shaking.

The entire song is him talking shit at Odysseus so we need some Randy Savage vibes in there; maybe a big flashy coat and sunglasses to start when he first calls out Odysseus. Also, this immediately comes to mind at that part:

OHH-DYSSEUS OF ITHACAAA!

Do you know who I am?

And thinking of backgrounds and chorus; this is when the laestrygonians gather too so we would put them up as the audience to watch and cheer for their favourite champion and Poseidon is just constantly rilling them up.

He hurt MY SON! And what do we do to those who disrespect us!? (crowd boos)

(Polyphemus would be there with a "Poseidon is my dad" shirt, of course)

During the "POSEIDON!" chorus at the start, it would also be when the stage would be set: giant pillars raising from the water, connecting together to form a fighting ring, the crowd all gathered around it on the bay. A path also shaping towards the ring from where Poseidon stands as he struts through, waving his arms and hyping the crowd, listening in to the noise.

He doesn't even enter the ring right away, he just saunters around it. The first part is a one sided conversation that he's putting up more for the crowd than to Odysseus, him and his crew small and trapped in the middle of this bewildering scene. Eventually he enters and just knocks them around. These mortals are pathetic but they need to be made an example of and the crowd is eating it up.

And then at the "The line between naivete and hopefullness..." is when Poseidon allows some seriousness in as he's climbing up to one of the posts to then jump off for an elbow drop as he whispers "DIE".

And just when he thinks he's saving the best for last, he gets blown back against the chords, and sees Odysseus speeding out of the arena and out of sight. He leans back on the chords, anger and frustration through a smile.

Remember me...

Anyway it's 2am and while I have other characters I'd like to headcanon here, I'm tired and for all I know people think i'm insane for this. This idea bug wouldn't leave me alone and I hope putting it out there will help put it to rest. So If you read all this, thank you!!

[nellie-elizabeth]

Doctor Who: Dot and Bubble (14x05)

Wow, holy shit. This season keeps getting better and better.

Cons:

I really only have one tiny complaint, and it's that I wish the walking thing had been done a little differently? I think, allegorically, the idea that they all need arrows and instruction to be able to walk around when they have their bubbles up all the time is a good idea. Like, often when I'm driving somewhere I should know how to get to on my own, I still pull up the map on my phone just as an extra sense of security, or because I never bothered to fully memorize which side street to turn down or what have you. So it makes sense on that level. But the part where Lindy is literally running into poles and desks and stuff read as a little too ridiculous. I wish it had been a little less literal? Like what if instead of running into stuff, it's that Lindy is overwhelmed by the variety of things she's looking at around her, constantly distracted and overwhelmed, and she needs to mutter instructions to herself in order to force herself to walk, and she still takes the sharp 90 degree turns everywhere because that's what she's used to. And then when faced with a monster right in front of her that's blocking her most natural path towards the exit, she freezes up and can't figure out how to make herself find an alternative route right away. That would work better than the scene where she's literally just running into a pole multiple times.

Pros:

But honestly! What a fucking stunning episode, with one of the best... I guess you could say, "twists", of any Doctor Who episode I can ever remember seeing. I'm not talking about the computers turning on the citizens of Finetime, I'm not talking about the home-world being taken over and not coming back to save everyone. I'm talking about Lindy and the others rejecting the Doctor's help at the end of the episode. That scene is an all time classic, instantly, I just know it.

But first let's back up and talk about Lindy as a character. I think this episode hinges on the way she toes the line the whole episode - you don't understand at first if Lindy is an example of her society, the same as everyone else, or if there's something special about her. Is she an exception to some rule, or just a coincidental POV character? She's terrified, but she tries her best - I was moved by the moments when she realizes how truly helpless she is without the bubble and cries out "I'm so stupid!" You feel a certain sense of connection with her utter helplessness and fear. She's so coddled, so trapped in her bubble, literally, that everything new and scary seems hostile to her.

So... she can be forgiven for not instantly trusting the Doctor and Ruby, right? Right? I mean, they're strangers who came out of nowhere, and she has no idea what's going on. She's just a girl in a socially dystopian scenario where everyone's so addicted to their phones that they've shut out the rest of the world, and she needs help!

That's layer one to what's going on here.

But underneath that layer, you start to notice other things pretty early on. We learn about Finetime, we learn that it's a place that only the most elite people send their children to work. We learn eventually that the very computer program running their lives has started to get sick of them and has decided to exterminate them due to the... inanity, the intolerable repetitiveness, of their pointless, vapid lives. This isn't a situation where everyone in the world is like these people. This is a situation where the wealthiest and most privileged have literally cut themselves off from experiencing anything outside of what they know, and it's a look at the reinforcement of certain beliefs that exist in that society, due to the extreme level of shelter these people are subjected to.

The way that privilege operates within the episode is also subtly and effectively condemnatory to the viewer, or at least to this viewer, in a way that really worked. I did note the whiteness of this world, specifically the white, blonde, stereotypically attractive, thin, able-bodied woman serving as our protagonist. She seemed to represent a type of person; she stands in for a type of ignorance and privilege that we recognize in our own world. But when that moment came at the end where Lindy and the other survivors reject the Doctor's help? You bet your ass I was scouring the background of the scene, searching for any people of color in the shot. I didn't find any. And yeah, it hadn't occurred to me that all the faces we see in Lindy's friend group, all the people we see in this whole world, were white - a white majority is burned into our brains as a default, it's what I, a white person myself, am accustomed to seeing on the screen.

I think the reason the scene at the end is going to stick in people's heads is because it's not a metaphorical bigotry the Doctor suffers in this moment. It's actual, it's in your face. These people aren't "symbolically" bigoted of the Doctor's otherness, they're literally just racists. They're fucking racists. And Lindy never was special - she only lasted as long as she did because her last name starts with a letter later on in the alphabet. She is utterly typical of the people in this world, and this world is a world of white supremacy, and that's all there is to it.

Ncuti Gatwa's performance of outrage and grief was absolutely stunning. I saw one reviewer talk about how it makes sense that the Doctor being Black hasn't been addressed on screen yet, as it would be a pretty wretched look for the show to cast this actor in the role and then have the character immediately suffer racism because of it. But at the same time, it should be addressed in some way, and here's the way in which it finally is. I was also moved by Ruby's silent grief. For the treatment of her friend, but also for the way in which something so evil and stupid and pointless is going to result in all these young people probably dying in the forest, all because they couldn't look past their ingrained prejudices to accept help from someone they deemed their inferior. Gatwa screams and laughs and it's clear that he's feeling so many things, such helplessness and bewilderment and frustration. I don't know how much the show will go into this, but it would be so interesting to have the character reflect on this moment where he realizes something completely arbitrary and out of his control actually has an impact on his ability to do his job well. The character has been a white man a bunch of times in a row, then a white woman, and now a Black man. The mind fuck of having direct evidence of how the world's prejudices work in all ways big and small... what an interesting avenue for the show to explore.

I should also bring up Ricky September, legend, gone too soon from this world, shoulda joined the Doctor and Ruby in the TARDIS and had a threesome with them, tbh. I love what this character represents. At first, he seems like the ultimate symbol of this vapid, image-obsessed, bubbled society, as he's shown mugging the camera singing twinkly little songs and being a sex object for his followers. But then we meet him, and he's a genuinely nice, thoughtful person who does his best to help Lindy. We learn that it's possible to live a life using the bubble for work and then logging off, learning more about the world through history instead of constantly partying and getting caught up in the moment. This story isn't really one about "kids these days on their phones with the TikToks and the blah blah blah." It's more about being entrenched in a loop, stuck with your head in the sand. And Ricky is someone who proves that there is a way to operate outside of that system. He's not necessarily a paragon of anti-racist virtue, but he's a dude who at least has taken some steps to push back against that automatic entrenchment, proving that such a thing can be done, even given the social pressures to sink into the reinforced bubble of prejudice. I also loved Ruby and the Doctor both having a crush on him.

And I love how his character winds up, a turning point where we're starting to realize that Lindy might not actually be redeemable as someone we need to be rooting for. Her sacrifice of her celebrity crush to the killer Dot was brutal, and it feels like such a good appetizer for the final scene of the episode, as the twist comes fully into play.

I think that without that final reveal at the end, this would still have been a good episode of Doctor Who. But with it, it's an all-time great episode. God, I already feel like I want to do a re-watch just to catch more of the build to that moment. I hope that next week we get more time with the Doctor, as we've had two Doctor-lite episodes in a row. But seriously - this season just keeps getting better and better as it goes.

10/10

[missbabyjay]

What Is This? - Joel Miller x F Reader

TLOU SPOILERS!

MASTERLIST - CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MORE!

HI! This takes place in my own made up dimension lol. I followed parts of the actual show, and then completely disregarded other parts. I plan on leaving Bill and Frank in, but I wasn't sure about Tess (no hate to her character). This is sorta self-indulgent so I hope you enjoy anyway! I think I might make a part two but I need to know what y'all think :)

I'd also like to point out that I am just becoming familiar with Joel. I would like to keep him rough around the edge, but I think there's truly a sweet person under there and I need some fluffier stuff with him. I'm seeing way too many pieces where Joel is next level crazy. So this is for my fluff lovers.

Warnings/Content: Mature, Swearing, Angst, injury, the tiniest bit of fluff

Summary: You and Joel don't particularly enjoy each other, but with the shared responsibility of Ellie you're stuck together - being forced to address whatever weird thing there is between you two.

Word Count: 2K

. . .

You had been working alongside Joel for the past two years. You had met through Tess, doing odd jobs for her. Joel never seemed to trust you, although he never really trusted anyone. He didn’t enjoy your attitude, and found you to be sloppy at your job. The two of you were similar in one way; you had enough of the corrupt shit occurring in the QZ. You wanted to get away, you craved freedom - even if that meant living among the infected. You craved life outside of the walls… away from FEDRA.

Besides that, you and Joel butt heads like two mountain goats; fighting for dominance in the partnership you shared. You both had cold, yet overpowering personalities. Your morals were long gone. You both had an incredible amount of trauma constantly sitting on your shoulders, making the linger of tension much stronger between you two.

You insisted that you’d be able to handle yourself outside of the walls. You had experienced life among the ruined world before making it to Boston… how did he figure you ended up there anyway? The only reason you agreed to transporting Ellie was in hopes of finding new life, somewhere far away from the Boston QZ. With or without Joel, you didn’t care. In fact, you could say you were using him as leverage to get out of here - he knew the secret ways out, where to go when you reached the open world outside of the large, consuming and towering walls that encapsulated you within the fucked up corrupt society you lived in.

It had been a tense few days since you left the QZ. Plans changed and you were left with the responsibility of Ellie; something neither you or Joel really wanted. You trudged your feet forward, following behind the two. You knew there were a few places that Joel stashed extra items, making you hopeful for a pit stop. Your legs ached, sending shooting pains to your feet. Each step you took forward made you wince with pain… this sort of trek was easier before you got comfortable with your sedentary life within the QZ.

“We’re gonna stop right up here, stay back… I’m gonna check inside,” Joel instructed you and Ellie. 

You sighed, sending a gentle smile to Ellie who reciprocated. You appreciated Ellie’s attitude. She didn’t really have much of a filter and she stood up for herself; respectable for a fourteen year old, you thought to yourself. You wished you were the same way when you were fourteen. You will never forget being that age; that was the year the outbreak began.

As always, you didn’t listen to Joel. You proceeded forward causing him to let out a low, powerful, “No.” To which you responded by rolling your eyes.

The two of you followed behind Joel, and when you entered the building you were met with a run down gas station. Yet the ravaged sight was genuinely nostalgic to you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a gas station. Your brain flooded back to pre-apocalyptic life, a time where life was enjoyable; renting a movie, grabbing a slushy, indulging in some candy. Your hands glided along the dust covered shelves as you walked down the aisle. Ellie wandered off while Joel searched for his stash.

“So what’s your plan, old man?” You muttered to Joel as he continued trying to retrace his steps.

“Why’s it matter to you? Thought you could handle this on your own,” he grunted.

You continued tracing shapes and drawing in the dust, dragging your feet along. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”

Joel stopped, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You continued stalking the aisles, but now you were staring into Joel’s eyes. He looked angry, a look that was quite familiar to you.

“I know you don’t even want me here. I don’t even want to be here with you. I’m sure there’s better people out there anyway,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes sarcastically.

Joel stopped his scattered movements to face you, quickly removing the space between the two of you.

His hand forcefully made its way to your delicate neck, pushing you against the end cap of the aisle. Your eyes widened as you gasped for air, “Look girl, you know you wouldn’t survive out there without me. And after losing Tess? I’m not losing you either.”

Joel stared into your eyes, into your soul. Your neck gulped under the strong grip of his hand - you struggled to gasp, your lungs were begging for air. He finally let go, causing you to intake a deep breath, trying to find the words, but instead tears began to well and you hurried out of the busted gas station.

Joel knew he fucked up. He didn’t know what came over him, but he couldn’t lose you or Ellie. Not necessarily out of love, but for the sake of his own ego, and guilt. Joel couldn’t handle anymore of that.

“Ellie!” He yelled out, searching for her in the building.

She slowly slid around the corner of the small office space, “What the fuck was that dude?”

Joel shook his head, “Let’s go. Now.” He demanded.

To Ellie’s surprise Joel ran out of the building. She quickly followed behind.

. . .

Your heart was racing as your chest expanded and closed in at a rapid pace. You tripped on a large tree chunk, leaving you sprawled on the ground. You pushed yourself to stand with the limited energy you had left. Your hands held you up as you used your knees for support, trying to not put too much pressure on your weak and injured foot. You attempted to get ahold of your breathing; the tears still falling down your dirtied face like a waterfall.

You didn’t understand… he cared about you?

The way he treated you since the beginning just didn’t match up with his words. What kind of game was he playing? He would throw cold, intimidating bitterness towards you for any small mistake. He didn't hesitate to put you in your place, and never paid you any attention that wasn't direly necessary.

You didn’t remember what it felt like to be cared about. You always ran from affection… even before the apocalypse.

You heard your name being called from afar, awakening your fight or flight to kick in - you wanted to run, as far as you could, but your body couldn’t withstand anymore; your legs continued to ache, your ankle was agonizing and your lungs felt like they were filled with blood. You were far more out of shape than you thought, leaving your inner weakness to overtake you. 

You decided to let the universe decide your destiny - you laid on the ground and waited, like bait. Either for Joel to find you, or an infected.

Your eyes wandered above you. You soaked in the leafy green trees towering over you. The sounds of nature filling your ears. The warm wind blowing against your rough skin. The earth below you felt cool and comforting. Your breathing began to slow and you found your eyes becoming heavy. As much as you wanted to fight it, you let them close and soon you were met with a hazy half-ass slumber - the best you could get in an apocalypse.

. . .

Joel felt panic wash over him. He just told you he couldn’t lose you, and yet here he was searching for you. “Where could she be?” he questioned as he began to feel that all too familiar feeling - guilt.

Ellie joined him in calling your name. She felt nervous too. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Joel after losing another person. His bitterness made this journey much harder, a journey she didn’t choose to be on.

Joel stopped dead in his tracks, and reached his arm out to stop Ellie from proceeding. He slowly raised his gun, and cautiously began walking forward, taking small, quiet steps in order to avoid creating too much noise. He didn’t have much ammo left and he had to make the most of it.

He saw a body laying in the middle of the path, could it be an infected? Or just a dead body? His heart dropped when he noticed it was you; eyes closed, body limp. His mind wandered to the worst possible place.

“Y/N!” He shook you lightly, cautiously, unsure of the situation. Just hopeful that you were okay. He saw your chest rising, indicating you were well alive. He soaked in the view of your face; your parted chapped lips, the delicate crows feet nestled beside your eyes, the dirt that laid on your face - that still looked so soft to him.

. . .

Your peaceful slumber was broken as your body was gently shook. You bolted up - defencive being the first thing you felt anytime you woke from sleep. “Y/N, woah girl it’s just me, Joel” his voice cooed, bringing you back to reality as he rubbed your arm.

“Oh, you,” fell out of your lips sarcastically, brushing Joel off as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to feel his touch - you didn’t know how to process his touch. Joel made you want to feel cared for again, maybe.

“I’m just uh- gonna go like 10 feet over there and let you two figure out whatever this is…” Ellie announced, awkwardly making her way over to a nearby tree where she could prop herself against, somewhat comfortably, while being able to protect her back.

You both eyed Ellie as she walked, both knowing she was your responsibility to protect, but also knowing the two of you had to figure out whatever fucked up situation this was.

You began to massage your ankle, wincing in pain. Fuck, what did I do. Joel looked down over you, concern and anger were plastered on his face.

“Why the fuck did you run Y/N? What is wrong with you? I said you couldn’t handle being alone and here I fucking find you… asleep in the middle of a forest… so vulnerable,” he exclaimed, aggressively grabbing your arm to pull you to your feet.

You resisted, but his power was all too much for you to fight against. The weight of yourself bearing on your ankle made it difficult for you to stand. You shrugged your shoulders. You weren’t sure exactly why you ran. Joel’s words made you feel something that you didn’t want to feel. You didn’t want a connection to anyone. You knew this sort of life meant relying on yourself and only yourself, and Joel was making that difficult.

You looked up to meet Joel's brown eyes. His dusted face looked concerned, not angry, for once. “Look, what you said… I'm not used to people saying that kinda shit to me. It’s hard to hear that someone doesn’t want me dead, I usually assume the opposite considering no one really cares about other people in this world,” you muttered out, struggling to keep contact with Joel's gaze.

Your body tensed as you were suddenly pulled into Joel's embrace. It wasn’t necessarily loving, but it felt protective. “Well I do care. I’m not gonna lose you. You may annoy the shit out of me but my world would be too quiet without your bitching,” he whispered into your ear. Sure, the words weren’t romantic or anything, but you knew Joel was being genuine. 

You pushed Joel away, “Okay,” you grunted, sending him a feeble smile through your pursed lips. “I’m gonna need you to tape me up. I fucked up my ankle earlier,” you lamented. 

Joel shook his head, “Of course you did. Here, sit back down,” he glowered. He called over Ellie to assist him and the two managed to tape your ankle making you able to lazily follow behind them as you continued your journey. 

“Where to?” you questioned, not sure what kind of answer you’d receive.

“Bill and Franks,” Joel muttered, waving you over to come closer to him. “Get on my back, you shouldn’t walk on that ankle of yours,” he insisted. You obliged, you’d be crazy to turn down his offer. Your ankle was throbbing and you could use a break considering you still had a few hours of your hike to get through.

As Joel readjusted you on his back your body became quite comfortable. You nuzzled your chin in between his shoulder and neck, embracing his warmth and surprisingly nodding off into a light snooze. 

[rosanna-writer]

Fictional (2/3)

HUGE thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing another ACOTAR writing circle! This is my first time writing Nessian, part two of the fic started by @mercarimari. I was so excited to continue a story that was already DELIGHTFULLY meta; you can find part one here, and mine is under the cut.

Summary: Nesta has always hidden herself in books. Most if not all of her real life relationships had ended in fire and chaos. She was an expert in self destruction after all. But when a birthday gift from her sister brings a touch of magic to the world, and a piece of fiction into her reality--- Could things really change for the better? 

No. Absolutely not. There was no way this stranger really was a man who'd just stepped out of a book, even if he did know her name. That was beyond absurd—Nesta thought she should have been worried someone had spiked her drink if she'd actually thought he could be a fictional character come to life.

"Do I know you?" she said.

Even though her tone was cold enough to freeze the surface of the sun, the man just kept grinning at her. "I think you know exactly who I am. Does Nesta Archeron's Unlikely Night ring a bell?"

The fact that he knew her name and the title of the book Elain had given her should have sent her running. He had to be some kind of stalker, one who might have gone through her things.

But he was also the most attractive man in this bar by a mile, and Nesta wouldn't be here if her sense of self-preservation was fully intact.

"Then cut the crap and tell me who you are and what you want from me."

That smile of his faltered for just a second. "Nes, it's Cassian. Do— Do you not know who I am?"

"If you are who I think you are, then I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation."

Nesta wasn't sure what she expected, but not for him to laugh or the way the sound of it warmed her. There was no mocking edge to it, and she found herself wanting to hear it again.

"That makes two of us."

Nesta stared at him over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched. "Does it?"

"Yes. I've spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get back home," he said, raking a hand through his long hair. If he wasn't really a book character come to life, he was certainly insane, but a traitorous part of Nesta wished it was her hand doing that, just so she could see if his hair was as soft as it looked.

"Home?"

He gave her a look as if to say that she knew exactly what he meant, as preposterous as it was that his home could actually be the pages of a book. Nesta opened her mouth to say something in response, but the sharp sound of microphone feedback cut her off.

Whatever terrible local band was playing at the bar that night was about to begin their set.

"We should move this conversation somewhere a bit quieter," Nesta said, then cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She hadn't intended for it to sound like such a come-on.

Cassian smiled at her again, and there was a hunger in his eyes that Nesta was all too familiar with. And well, hadn't she come here to find a bastard who'd look at her just like that?

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you, Nes? I didn't take you for that kind of girl."

Nesta scowled as she reached for her purse to pay the tab. Her voice was low and dangerous as she hissed, "You don't know a single thing about me."

When she was finished, Cassian left the bar with her. Nesta half-expected to feel a possessive hand on the exposed skin of her back, but Cassian just walked beside her, keeping a respectful distance. The only thing she felt was the cold night air.

Nesta led the way to a park a couple of blocks away, somewhere they could sit and talk without having to shout. For a long moment, the only sound was her heels clicking against the pavement. But when it was clear Cassian seemed intent on following her lead, she said, "You owe me an explanation. Start explaining, then."

Cassian ran his hand through his hair again, something that she remembered him constantly doing throughout the book. To Nesta, it had been a clear sign the book needed a better editor—the author had the same three overused gestures the characters made constantly.

"To be honest, that's what I was hoping you could help with. Everything back home was normal, but when I woke up this morning, I knew I wasn't there. Something brought me here," Cassian said.

He paused as they waited for a light to change, but Nesta didn't say anything, just crossed her arms. Even if what Cassian was saying was true (which she doubted), there was nothing she could help with.

"Everything was just so much more…vivid. I knew I had to be in the real world. And since the other Nesta—my Nesta—was based on someone real, I figured my best bet was to try and find you," Cassian continued.

Nesta couldn't hold back a sneer at the mention of the version of her that existed in the book. Cassian had probably been expecting someone sweet, friendly, and shy—not a shark out for blood at a dive bar.

At least he'd been nice enough not to voice his disappointment. It was better treatment than she deserved.

"And now what?" Nesta said, sinking down onto the nearest bench as they arrived at the park. This late, it was mostly deserted. Other than a few other couples out for a stroll and a man walking his dog, they were alone. "I don't have anything for you."

Cassian sighed. "I don't know. Could I at least see the book? Obviously, I know the plot, but I've actually never seen the cover."

That, at least, she could do for him. Nesta hadn't bothered to take the book out of her bag before she'd left for the bar, so she pulled it out and handed it to him. At the sight of the cover—a stock photo of a muscular, shirtless man—Cassian grimaced.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he said.

"Looks like it."

It was a shame they were out in public because Nesta would have liked nothing more than to get his shirt off to compare. It was clear Cassian was muscular under the jean jacket he was wearing, but Nesta wanted to see for herself. As baffling as this all was, the man was still gorgeous.

As Cassian flipped through the pages and skimmed, Nesta took the opportunity to ogle him a bit. That strong jawline just begged for her to run a finger from one end to the other, and this close, she could spot the green flecks in his hazel eyes.

She watched as his grimace became more pronounced the more he read. Eventually, he shut the book with a shake of his head. "Damn Nes," he said, "I didn't realize the writing was so bad. That smut is…." He trailed off as if he didn't have a word to describe it.

Privately, Nesta agreed, though she'd never admit that anywhere there was even the slightest chance that it might get back to Elain. Her sister wasn't a big reader, and the gift was thoughtful, in a way.

Instead, she just said coolly, "The book didn't mention anything about you reading smut. What made you such an expert?"

Cassian shrugged. "You get curious about what's going on in the other books in your genre, and I'm not as much of a meathead as I look."

"Tell me the last five books you read," Nesta commanded, the challenge clear in her voice.

Cassian listed them off without hesitation, and when he was done, Nesta had to admit to herself that he really was just as much of a romance reader as her. It caught her off-guard—she was used to being mocked for it, especially by men. But the jibes about too-perfect shirtless men and velvet-wrapped steel never came.

Instead, she found herself swapping recommendations with a man who'd stepped out of a book, but the most unbelievable part was how well their tastes aligned. They shared some favorite authors, re-read the same scenes over and over, and got irritated by the same tired tropes and turns of phrase.

But as the night dragged on and the temperature dropped, Nesta started to shiver in her short, open-backed dress. She put on a brave face, even as her teeth chattered.

Cassian pulled his jacket off and handed it to her. Nesta didn't take it. "Are you familiar with the saying 'a ho doesn't get cold'?" she said.

"It's yours if you want it," Cassian said, dropping the jacket in her lap. It was still warm from the heat of him. "But at least let me get you home safe."

If he wanted to go back to her place and fuck her, Nesta wished he'd just be honest about it. Keeping her out of the cold, making sure she got home safely—it was the kind of care she didn't deserve. Maybe he didn't realize that.

"I can get home on my own," she said, tossing the jacket back at him. Cassian snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the face.

"You can," he said, "but you don't have to. And I want to know you're alright. It's late."

He just seemed so genuine; Nesta didn't know what to make of it. Everything about him was so unlike the men who just wanted her for a quick fuck.

She sighed. "Alright. Come home with me, then."

Cassian's shoulders slumped in relief as Nesta called a cab. Once they were up and moving, she warmed up a little bit. Cassian walked next to her, hands in his pockets.

"You're so different from her," he said, half to himself.

Nesta had no idea who he could possibly be talking about. "Her?" "The Nesta I know from the book. "

"I'm sure you want to get back to her," Nesta said, crossing her arms. She braced herself for a mention of how much he missed the sweet, shy girl from the book.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night. "Not really," he said. "Not after meeting you. Sure, you've got some rough edges she doesn't, but that makes you real. Nothing compares to that."

Nesta didn't know what to say. Cassian was looking at her with a little bit of awe, and no one ever looked at her like that. For once, she was too thrown off to find the words for a typical bitter reply.

Before she really understood what she was doing, Nesta was reaching for his face and pulling it down to hers. Cassian's lips were just as soft as the book as described, and the kiss was gentle.

But Nesta Archeron didn't do gentle.

She slid her hands back from his face, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled just a bit. For half a second, she thought he might yelp and step back, but it just seemed to draw him in more. The hands that had settled on her hips pulled them closer, so her body was flush with his. As Cassian's tongue swept into her mouth, Nesta decided she could stay here forever.

But a sharp honk from the taxi they hadn't noticed arrived jolted them back to reality. "You're staying the night," Nesta declared as she opened the car door.

Cassian didn't argue, though he had the good sense not to mention just yet that he was already considering ways he could stay for a hell of a lot longer than just the night.

[1realityjones1]

A little vent post:

I don't know if I've ever truly felt like this before in my life. I know the emotion I'm plagued with, the tightness in my chest that restricts my breathing. Dread, the utter fear of something you can't run away from. The fear of something persistent that haunts you day and night.

I feel as though I walk through a warehouse in the black darkness of night. There is no light to look towards, no guide to light my way on the right path through my life. I grasp towards phantoms and figments of the imagination, of hope, in the void and hope to find something concrete. I hope to finally grab on to something that may put me onto a desirable path.

The things I used to hold onto are fading and crumbling apart. My family is breaking, dying. My home is disappearing, I must find somewhere else to lay my head in peace. I'm the rope in a tug-of-war, my family tugging one of my arms and my friends tugging my other. My family is pulling me further as they have more strings to tie me down with, but my friends know to grab my heart and hold tight. It feels impossible to live with my family without my heart, and yet itbis equally impossible for the heart to live without the body.

The struggle to hold my head above the waves of events has been the struggle of my life, and I've been barely keeping my nose out of the depths for years.

I hadn't struggled for most of my life. I had known where to go and what to aim for. I never thought to look into it, never thought to look past the pretty colours of the painting of my imagined future as a child and see the trials I'd have to complete before I could experience what the art depicted. When one looks at art, they see wishes. They see the rose-tinted photograph, even if the photograph is of the heinous. Sometimes, I think the art that hides the horrible is worse than than the art that shows it proudly.

I wish I had been taught better. Not that anyone in my life that had taught me did poorly. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I was the one that should have done better. A good student asks questions, they understand the art themselves and understand the background of the image. They understand without being told to understand. I shrugged and told myself and others I understood even when I didn't so I wouldn't take time from others nor would I lose my own time.

I regret much in my life. I regret not asking more questions, not taking the initiative in so many things and allowing so many opportunities slip through the fingers like quicksilver. I made so many choices that hurt others just because those around me made those very same choices. I regret losing contact with friends, I regret the time I spent with them. I regret how I tried to help others when they told me not to help, where I ended up causing problems for everyone around me instead of doing any good.

I'm in a hall of mirrors. Constantly looking for an escape, yet finding only memories of misdeeds, mistakes, and moments I wish to return to. I look to my left and see myself as a bully, making fun of someone simply trying to fit in. I wish I hadn't fit in so well by being a bully. I look to my right and see myself saying horrible things to people that cared about me and loved me just so that I could be what I believed others wanted me to be. I look behind and see myself as a child pretending I am a super hero saving the damsel in distress in a small home with warm sunlight that never felt too small and still feels perfect. I look forward and see someone. They are my height, my weight, my shape, they have my face, my body, my hands, my scars. They are me, yet they are not at the same time. I walk forward, I do not want to walk to the left or right again. I cannot turn around and go back, I fear I will never be able to leave the paintings of the past.

I like video games because most of them have a way point. A candle in that dark warehouse. They are paintings I can physically interact with, paintings I can choose to understand or not as long as I enjoy experiencing them. I can learn from them, I can learn from the others telling their stories and painting the pictures. I have always wanted to be the painter. I have always wanted to draw a picture for an audience to understand or not, to try to teach them and show the mistakes I made and prevent someone from becoming me.

My father spoke about many things, as many intelligent people with little outlets for their genius do. He once told me he didn't want me to be like him, he wanted me to be better. His bar was not difficult to pass. He was an alcoholic and a chain smoker, I am not. I am better. He wanted to be a writer as a child, and he always encouraged me to embrace what I loved, my creativity. He was always supportive. Would he be supportive of other things if he were still alive? Would he be proud I'm taking the steps to become the writer he never was? I do not know. I doubt he'd support my identity, but I cannot see him being unsupportive.

I know I want others to be better than me. I don't want anyone to struggle like I have, and I realize I've been blessed by not being a poor child. I never had to receive hand me downs from family to even have anything to wear. I never had to struggle for dinner or breakfast or lunch. I never went hungry. I have it better than most, yet I feel the contrary. I hate that feeling.

I am running around in circles in my words and thoughts. I am reaching towards phantoms of my past and figments of hopes and dreams. I'm trying to find something to follow, and the things I'm finding are just memories leading me in circles. I'll find a memory of my father and it will lead me through the maze of mirrors again. I will take a left, a right, I'll turn around and go forward. I will latch on to one phantom and let it go just to chase another figment right before I get to something. I don't know what that something is. Is it the painful series of images of my father's conditions in the last few years of his life? Or is it flashes of happiness of my father, my mother, and I happy and enjoying each other's company. I don't know. I'll eventually go down those vortexes again, and again, and again. I will always find myself in that maze of mirrors of my mind, hoping to find a candle to use in the dark warehouse. I continue to search, even now as I write. I hope that perhaps I have found my candle.

TLDR: I don't know if I'd consider this a poem, but this is just me trying to figure my thoughts out. I have a lot going on, and I feel so overwhelmed. I'm hoping that I can keep my thoughts focused and deliberate if I write them down.

[puppygirlsounding]

I realized the other day that lately I've stopped making my little journal posts on here. At first I think I tried to convince myself it was just life getting to me and not having the time to stop and process my feelings. I realized now that it was mainly me running away from my feelings, even though no one but me reads these I felt irrationally worried in disappointing someone by posting about slipping back into my depression. It was just hard to admit that I slid back down the proverbial slope after the first major progress I'd had in my adult life. I started questioning all my recent choices and things got really vile. I managed to not let it get as bad as it was before, but a lot of awful thoughts still run around my head. I just wish I could completely scrub out the inside of my dome at times. I mean I guess I wouldn't really be me anymore, but maybe if I was wiped completely clean like total amnesia I might be able to treat myself properly. I haven't regressed back to the constant self hate or anything, but the fact the suicidal thoughts have cropped back up makes me uneasy. It's just so easy to think about when things go wrong, like I'm keeping it on backup. I don't want to be like this all time, some coward with cyanide pill locked and loaded for a bad day. I want to be able to express myself, and figure out my gender identity. The one that hurts most though is my self image. I can finally look at my own face without disassociating, but my weight seemingly will never stop bothering me. I hate how you can completely break down and understand you own failures of internal logic, but no matter how much I appreciate, am attracted to, or get gender feelings from other fat people I can never seem to apply even a shred of that to myself. It's fundamentally corrupted somewhere and I can't seem to fish it out, I keep telling myself to try and reach on here for help, but I'm too afraid of rejection. I'm constantly paralyzed in fear that if I start to try and express my feminine side or do anything to stray from my normal default shlubby guy looks that ill just be branded as a desperate neckbeard. I thought I could do this only a little over a month ago, but now I feel so vulnerable. My brain is screaming for attention, affection, and affirmation from someone. While all I want is to be able to give that to myself. I'm already 25 and I haven't had a single healthy relationship, so I don't want to rely on someone who could just up and leave me like everyone else has. I don't even know if I want to continue to try and salvage the friendships I have right now. The only people I have left in my life are a friend I'm almost certain is already on track for ditching me because of how high maintenance I am, a coworker friend I never get to see, and my boss who I have to maintain a set distance from to not interfere with work. Right now I'm writing this when I need to be showering for work tomorrow. I'm so tired. My heart feels so heavy. Why can't I stop feeling like a burden

Forget what I said before, can someone just fall into my life like some shlocky romance, if I don't get an outlet for my love soon it might just kill me

Help

[warishaaa]

My hands smell of metal by the end of most days, gripping heated iron rods and handles, anything that could be clutched on moving vehicles to stop myself from falling like it's the only thing to hold on to, left in this lifetime when i am as fallen as the pen i dropped in a class and never found it again.

The lines of my palm have collapsed like a punctured tire in the middle of an isolated path, it's always covered in ripped paint and sweat and inkblots.

Most nights i lay keeping my phone aside and fold myself into the tiniest i could, to feel like a toddler who would be picked up by their mother and receive gentle pats to go back to sleep bcz sleep is the unfaithful friend that leaves at the first peck of problems.

Dark circles settle under my eyes like diminishing red sun sets at the horizon and fallen leaves settle on the path to which its life belonged and it feels like although I am running, i don't have a map to follow. I am running in circles.

I like to shower in warm water on most Summers, not too hot but not cold either to let the warmth sink in from the pores of my body to make for the hugs i never got but craved, because I have a habit of craving things i constantly run away from. I run away from people I want to hold for a life time, places i imagine my grave to be.

Sometimes i feel misplaced, like a feather on hands that work with metals and silk on the body of those who are used to covering it with thorns.

like a palm tree in desert standing alone, and the only star in a cloudy night peeking from the gaps watching the dampness the storm left.

It is a fleeting moment i lived but never could make sense of.Like i should have been happy but i was not.I should have felt accompanied but i know i felt lonely. I exchanged words but every word was forced, and i smiled too but that's how i learned all curves are a part of a sphere and what follows next is a downward curve.

I want to paint tulips with blue skies, and homes coloured in warmer tints, yellow butterflies flying and touching everything in their vicinity like a priest blessing every person who stops at his gate.

The wild flowers blooming the same all day, untouched and safe because of the power they carry and caterpillars crawling over the branches of mango trees on less raging summers.

I often think about jasmines covering wet roads on silver nights, smashed and smudged still smelling sweet as heaven and cold breeze brushing all stands of my hair on my sweaty scalp because my anxiety often drips like a leaking faucet.

For once i want this place to smell like coffee and cookies early in the morning though I'm not much of a coffee consumer. And I want this place to not sound like gods personal portal brimming with complaints of water drops near the sink too close to the tv remote to the remorse of a mother grieving the death of her kid from several years who has learnt to live alone.

Occasionally I want to be the kid i saw who would demand to picked up by the same person who made him cry, because when someone we love hurts us, we demand love. It's your responsibility to heal what you harm, to mend what you break. Atleast that's how it was once.

I wish I could demand the love people forgot, like i demand my food to be less spicy and juices extra sweet.

In this life i have learned to romanticise catastrophe. I get attracted to broken people like bugs get attracted to light, because somewhere i want our brokenness to be friends.

There's something beautiful about that vulnerability you see, a broken mirror shines brighter and becomes capable of making multiple images.But i often forget broken people have broken parts like the broken mirror which has sharp edges that could slit your palm without remorse. It is like hope hanging by a string, but when the string is almost touched one realises it was just a Mirage.

They are like those paintings in museums preserved to be seen from a distance because i have Felt my defences crawling at the first step headed beyond the red line.

But on days like these i want to be held and loved in a way which is expressed enough to echo in the maze of my mind

I want to be wrapped and repeatedly said i am enough, and i am loved and that they care about me that they will stay with me

I want to be served food cooked specially for me and I want someone to cut my fruits and serve me, forcing me to eat for the sake of nutrients and refrigerate it to increase the probability of me finishing it, i want to be kissed on the forehead, and have someone brush my hair, I want someone to pass me their handkerchief and soak the mess out of my face, On days like these i don't want to feel lonely, you know.

I want someone to hold my hands show me the way out of this chaos and clean my mess teaching me how to do that for the next time like my mother would often arrange my wardrobe when i drowned in all the clothes i took out and forgot to fold and keep it back.

On days like these i just want to be hugged, hugged in a way i could rely on those arms to always be this warm and want all other nonsense of this world to take a break.

My words escape my walls like a balloon overfilled with water which splashes all around and i almost dread the day i wrote something for the first time back when i was 8 years old. My English teacher had asked me to write about my favourite sport. I still remember I wrote about badminton not because it was my fav sport but because that was the only sport i knew about. Since then i flood words everywhere like that's the most important task.

[simplelittlesongs]

It weighs me down. I can't move, I can't think, I can't speak, I can't eat... My existence is constantly screaming, my thoughts keep going and the memories and words haunt me every living hr with every breath I breathe. I can't run. I can't hide. Where would I go? I'm stuck in this body, I'm here but somewhere else, I'm somewhere else but I'm always here. I lost it along time ago; not ever knowing what "it" truly was.. I will never gain the thing/s I want, need and crave to be alive; to exist and experience existence to the fullest because I have no idea what that consists of and how to achieve"it"... It's dark and it keeps getting darker. It rains and it keeps pouring and it has never stopped. It will never stop. People say "be happy", "things will change', "this won't be forever"... I wish it were true but it's so dark and I have no source of light and I don't know how to be happy. I wish everything would just stop, I wish everything would just be fucking quiet and I could be at peace.. Depression digs deep. It eats away at everything that is "you" (if you knew who "you" were to begin with) leaving nothing but emptiness, doubt, pain and every shitty feeling that you can and can't feel, speaking words without meaning and being at a loss to express the numbness and confusion that goes on in the sickness. Will it ever end? Depression; it's more than feelings, thoughts and words, it runs deep and kills you before you enter the grave and I will never be able to fully express properly the devastation and gravity of the sadness and pain that burdens my soul and the way it taunts me and laughs in my face.

Depression... What a damn shame.

[jakesmashly]

See lately i've been drifting away, with nightmares a bunch of demons in a fiery place

I try to keep all the fakes and haters out of my face, i know that i'm a good dude i feel like such a disgrace

And sometimes i just want to keel over and die, don't let it show too much in public but i'm dying inside

I wonder when i'm in the car if this will be my last ride i feel like

Running far away and finding somewhere to hidе

In reality i'm miserable likе most of the time but i keep pushing because i want to hit the point where i shine

I want to find myself a woman that i want to hold and call mine.. they get to know me then they leave me at the drop of a dime

And it hurts, realistically what hurts me the worst

People really only like me 'cause the sound of my verse

I'm badly wounded on the inside and i need me a nurse, see i done felt like this forever and it feels like a curse

A lot of people come around and really think that they know me, i smile all the time but they don't know that it's phony

The groupies always telling me they wish they could blow me

But that ain't what i want so i just keep being lonely and i.... am really fucked up in the head, i couldn't think of a better way for it to be said

I wasn't joking and if you heard me say that i wish that i was dead, but i don't want to go to hell 'cause i put one in my head

With that said keep it honest in the future i might

I'm sick of living in this darkness always searching for light

It's like the good and evil inside of me just constantly fight

I fill myself with drugs and alcohol to get through the night

And in reality i live my life with so much pain, since all my people passed away this shit just ain't been the same

A lot of folks i keep around think that this life is a game

My body's filled with so much hatred really i'm just ashamed

In my brain a lot of days i just don't know what to do

My question is how would you feel if all these thoughts were in you

When people never understood all of the hell you been through

So when they're mad or get depressed they come and throw it on you, it happens every single day and i just feel so weak

Like my emotions could explode because they're close to their peak

I sit and listen quietly and try not to make a peep, but in my head i'm freaking out and i'm just ready to tweak

I hate to say it but i'm honest. this is how i feel

I know a lot will probably hate me because i'm keeping it real

I'm like a fish that just got hooked i'm trying to fight with the reel

Only human so i had to come and tell you the deal, until today a lot of people didn't know that i'm stressed

They have a misconception that i have an "s" on my chest, i try to keep it positive and always hope for the best, but if you take a look inside you'll see i'm super depressed

It's been a while now that i just chose to keep this hidden

I did a lot of stupid shit that i wish that i didn't

It's been a shitty fucked up road that i've sat and just ridden

A lot of people probably hope that it's a joke and i'm kiddin'

But to be truthful there's a lot of times i just wanna cry, i feel like life is such a hassle i just wish i would die

I sit and think of shit that happens to me wondering why, that's probably the biggest reason why i keep getting high

It's all day and all night and all year that i struggle, with all this shit that's in my head that i just sit and i juggle

I sit and wait for other pieces of my life to just crumble

It's like i'm trapped inside my head and i can't get out of the rubble, and realistically i know this sounds so bad

See i can't help that every day that i'm awake that i'm sad, i sit and dwell cause growing up i really hated my dad

But in reality i'm thankful for the mother i had

See i was raised inside a christian home

It's really crazy that it's daily that i'm in the corner holding my phone

Contemplating thinking should i put a slug in my dome, or pray to god for all these demons to just leave me alone

I sit and wonder how my life's gonna end

I'm like a monster in a world that's full of angels i'm just trying to blend

And even though these people say that they're my friend

I understand that they just want what they can get and that it's really pretend

My whole life i've had a hatred for people

It fucking blows my mind that people can't just treat others with equal, and even though i sit at church while i pray in the steeple

I've always had a little feeling that everybody is evil

That's just life in the way i perceive

I stoop and think about my kin that passed away and take a second to grieve

And even though at times i wish i could leave

It's in my head then i should take a sec to chill and take a second to breathe, but all i feel is the hate

I pray to god everybody relates, and as i sit and get baked trying to maintain my faith i pray to god everybody relates.....

[the-roots-that-bind]

I just wish they could stop treating me this unfairly. Whatever happened to showing others basic human decency? I've tried so hard to love them, but all they do is put me down and judging me for things I haven't said or done. They even judge my compassion.

[yanderelovlies]

Hiiii, My first time asking here, but here a idea. A Jack vs Bo kinda senario! Like if they were both physical and could physically interact with one another, And how the mc handle having two yanderes following them around.

The amazing art in the middle was done by @alizera62quartz please go check out their art I love it so much.

Oh! Welcome Anon! Happy to have you! Also I've been thinking about this cause I want to make a mini series out of this. Cause your girl just can't choose one yandere 💅✨️

🔪THIS FIC IS 18+ AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED 🔪

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The situation you found yourself in was easy to deal with at first. When Bo and Jack started arguing with one another about your attention you could easily separate the two. (Usually by picking up Bo and putting him in a separate room somewhere.). However, now that Bo finally has his physical form thanks to your kindness it was like the two were constantly fighting. 

Jack didn't like Bo, not for a single minute. He was trying to take away HIS sunshine. Bo acted like he had some sort of wolfy claim on you just because you bought his little game device. Stupid Mutt.

Bo HATED Jack since the moment he met him. He knew Jack was what stood in front of him and had his puppy for himself. Jack always tries to leave him out of every outing trying to keep you to himself. Bo is gonna teach this clown that he isn't an Alpha to be messed with. Or so he thought till they both found out the hard way that they would kill each other. Fucking clown.

Yes, they have tried to fight it out physically and though they feel each hit, bite, and nasty word they can't die just wish they were by the end of it. 

Though when they aren't fighting they constantly surveillance you. When you go to work Jack keeps an eye on you to make sure people like Nick don't come around you again. While Bo watches and interacts with you in public to let everyone know you're taken. In a way, this is how they get along in the beginning. They agree to set aside differences for your safety. You are after all the reason they are fighting in the first place. 

Please for the love of everything make a schedule or get a bed big enough for the three of you. I mean unless you prefer constant brutal fucking, biting, and marking from the two trying to show the other up. Bo is the worst out of the two honestly especially since he likes to fuck in his beast form which runs strictly on emotions.

Though it will be a very rocky beginning for all of you, eventually their bickering will die down and they will only verbally fight when they think you aren't listening. They co-exist in an "I accept you're here to stay, but one wrong move and I will find a way to get rid of you." way. 

Bonus that I wasn't sure where to put it: 

The three of you were sitting on the couch. You leaned with your back to Jack's side, and Bo lay on top of you swatting away at Jack's hand that seemed ever closer to your breast. When your phone began to ring. Wanting to find an excuse to get up and stretch you signaled for Bo to get up, and when he did you left for your shared room in the back to take the call. 

"Y-Y/n?" Well, now you wish you hadn't. 

Ian waited patiently for your response, but when he was met with silence he continued. 

"Y-you probably didn't mean to pick up again...b-but I'm glad you did!.... I just want to talk to you."

It had been a good 20 minutes, and you still haven't come back. Are you okay?? Did you get hurt?? 

Bo began to get anxious. So against Jack's president "Just give them time"s Bo got up and made his way to your room hoping to see you okay.

The closer he got the more he could hear sniffles and another man's voice on the other side of the door. He got as close to the door as he could trying to catch the conversation, but only got the tail end of it as you threw your phone somewhere to the side and cries became slightly louder.

The sound of your tears was torture to Bo, so in a fit of emotions, he frantically opened the door and wasted no time taking you in his arms. 

"What's wrong puppy? What happened? Who hurt you?" 

Afraid of what Jack might want to do already you tried not to say anything to Bo, but it seems Jack had other plans

Jack stood in the doorway arms crossed as he held an expression that can only be described as a mix of anger and sympathy.

"It was Ian…..wasn't it…?"

Bo's head quickly turned to Jack curious but alarmed by the new name 

"Who is Ian?" You looked over to Jack with pleading eyes, but he simply shook his head.

"Their obsessed cheating ex" you could feel Bo's grip tighten around you as the words left Jack's mouth. 

"And you answered his call?!" Bo was angry. You could hear it in his voice as he growled and looked down at you. 

You tried to shrink into yourself, but Bo's iron grip made it impossible. "I-I didn't know…..I just answered…" 

The silence hung heavy in the air as both men tried to gather their thoughts. It was obvious Ian still had a grip on you. It was also obvious what needs to be done.

Sharing a look both men nodded before Bo's grip on you loosened. 

"I'm sorry puppy I just worry about you." He nuzzles his face into your neck peppering little kisses. "I don't like seeing you cry."

You let out quiet giggles at the ticklish feeling while leaning more into Bo. "I know….I'm sorry both of you. I should have paid more attention. " 

You looked over to Jack holding your hand out to him. Jack visibly softened as he walked over, taking your hand, kneeling, and placing your palm on his face. 

"It's okay sunshine. We still love you." 

You smiled relaxing against Bo. They always knew how to make you feel better. Closing your eyes you could help but smile at how lucky you felt.

That night however the hunt was on.

[magicisinbooks]

The Ballad of Never After - chapter 4

I saw some pages of tbona were posted but not a full chapter 4. Don't know if this is the whole chapter but here's what I could find.

4

Evangeline’s mother, Liana, used to wake up every morning before sunrise. She’d put on a pretty flowered robe that Evangeline always thought of as romantic. Then she’d tiptoe delicately down the stairs and quietly slip into the study, where she would sit beside the crackling fireplace and read.

Liana Fox believed in starting the day with a story.

When Evangeline had been little, she would often wake up early as well. Not wanting to miss out on any of the magic with which her mother always seemed to be surrounded, Evangeline would follow her to the study, then curl up in her lap and promptly fall back to sleep.

Eventually, Evangeline grew too old for laps, but she also became better at staying awake. And so her mother began to read her stories out loud. Some tales were brief, while others took days or weeks to get through. One book—a great tome etched in gold foil that came all the way from the Southern Isles—took an entire six months to read. And when Liana reached the last page of every story, she never said, The end. Instead, she always turned to Evangeline and asked, What do you suppose happens next?

They live happily ever after, Evangeline usually proclaimed. Most characters, she believed, deserved it after all they’d been through.

Her mother, however, felt differently. She believed most characters would stay happy for now, but not forever. Then she’d point out things that would certainly work to wreak havoc in their future—the apprentice to the villain who was still alive, the evil stepsister who’d been forgiven but was still out there somewhere waiting to attack once more, the wish that had come true but wasn’t quite paid for, the seed that had been planted but had yet to grow.

So, you think they’re all doomed? Evangeline would ask.

Then her mother would smile, sweet and warm as fresh sugar pie. Not at all, my precious girl. I think there’s a happy ending for everyone. But I don’t think these endings always follow the last page of a book, or that everyone is guaranteed to find their happily ever after. Happy endings can be caught, but they are difficult to hold on to. They are dreams that want to escape the night. They are treasure with wings. They are wild, feral, reckless things that need to be constantly chased, or they will certainly run away.

Evangeline had not wanted to believe her mother then, but she believed her now.

Evangeline swore she could hear the pitter-patter of her happy ending running further away from her as she exited LaLa’s flat.

She wanted to chase after it, but for a moment, she just stood there breathing in the cold Northern air and wishing she could curl up on her mother’s lap once more. She still missed her fiercely. She wondered what her mother would have said she should do.

Evangeline had vowed to never open the Valory Arch for Jacks, but LaLa’s words were making her question herself. The Valory does not hold what you think. If I were you, I would open the arch.

It seemed clear to Evangeline that her friend must have believed the version of the story that said the Valory was a magical treasure chest. But even treasures could be dangerous.

And what if LaLa was wrong? There were others, like Apollo’s brother, Tiberius, who had been so determined to keep the Valory Arch locked they’d tried to kill Evangeline—Tiberius had actually tried twice! But did Tiberius even know what hid on the other side of the arch, or did he just fear it because he chose to believe the version of the story that said it contained an abomination?

Evangeline should have probably been afraid as well, but if she was being honest with herself, it was no longer the unknown contents of the Valory that most frightened her. It was the idea of partnering with Jacks to save Apollo.

Evangeline couldn’t and wouldn’t do that again.

She had never kissed the Prince of Hearts, but she had learned that his bargains were much like his fatal kiss—magical and utterly destructive. She’d make a deal with almost anyone else before entering into another partnership with him.

“Any luck?” Havelock asked when they were safely in the carriage.

Evangeline shook her head. “Maybe we should reconsider telling the new heir about Apollo’s condition to buy us more time to search for a cure. If half the stories about Lucien are true, he may wait to take Apollo’s place as prince.”

Havelock snorted. “No one is as good as they make this Lucien sound. If we tell him the truth, at best he’ll lock Apollo away for his safety and you’ll never see him again. At worst—and far more likely—the new heir will have Apollo killed quietly, and then he’ll do the same to you.”

Evangeline wanted to argue. But she feared Havelock was right. The only certain way to save Apollo was to find a way to wake him up before tomorrow.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. There was no clock in the carriage, but Evangeline could hear time slipping away. Or maybe Time was friends with Jacks and it was taunting her, too.

Wolf Hall, famed royal castle of the Magnificent North, looked part fairytale, part fortress, as if the first king and queen of the North had not agreed on what it should be.

There was a great deal of heavy protective stone, but there were also decorative paints that brightened the doorways, and some of the stones on the ground had intricate carvings of plants and flowers along with reminders of what they were for:

Pegasus Clover—for forgetting

Angelweed—for a good night’s sleep

Gray Silkweed—for sorrow

Spirit Hibiscus—for mourning

Unicorn Holly—for celebrating

Winterberries—for welcoming

When Evangeline had left the castle that morning, boughs of gray silkweed and bouquets of spirit hibiscus had been everywhere, but now they’d been replaced with bright red wreaths of unicorn holly.

Evangeline’s stomach dropped at the sight of it. In the Magnificent North, mourning ended as soon as a new heir was officially named, which was supposed to happen the following day. Although from the altered state of Wolf Hall, it almost felt as if the new heir had already taken Apollo’s place.

Evangeline heard minstrels singing of Lucien the Great, and the servants had done away with their black mourning outfits, replacing them with crisp white aprons. A few maids around Evangeline’s age had festive winterberry sprigs in their braids and color on their cheeks and lips. And all of them seemed to be whispering:

“I’ve heard he’s young.…”

“I’ve heard he’s tall.…”

“I’ve heard he’s handsomer than Prince Apollo!”

Evangeline’s stomach cramped into tighter knots with every word. She knew she couldn’t fault these young men and women—people needed reasons to celebrate. Mourning was important, but it couldn’t go on forever.

She just wished she had more time. At least there was still one day left before Lucien actually arrived, even if that didn’t feel like nearly enough.

Evangeline took a shuddering breath as the hallway she and Havelock traveled grew dimmer and cooler. Moments later, they reached the splintered trapdoor that would lead them to Apollo.

It always unnerved Evangeline that the door wasn’t directly watched by a guard, but leaving a lone soldier in the middle of an empty hall seemed too suspicious. Instead, a trusted member of the royal guard waited in the room at the bottom of the stairs.

The small, hidden chamber was nicer than the first time she’d visited. Evangeline didn’t know if Apollo was aware of his surroundings. But just in case he was, she’d asked his guards to bring some life into the little room. The cold floors were covered with thick burgundy carpets, paintings of vibrant forest scenes hung from the stone walls, and a raised four-poster bed with velvet drapes had been brought in.

She would have liked for Apollo to be in his own bedchamber, where a fire could chase away the cold and windows could be cracked when the air grew stale. But as Havelock had reminded her, it was too risky.

At the bottom of the stairs, the waiting guard greeted Evangeline with a bow and then spoke quietly to Havelock, giving her privacy as she approached her prince.

Butterflies moved in her chest. She hoped things would be different today, but thus far her prince appeared exactly the same.

Apollo lay motionless, looking like the ending of a tragic Northern ballad. His heart beat so slowly, and his olive skin was cool to the touch. His brown eyes were open, but his once smoldering gaze was entirely lifeless, flat and vacant as pieces of sea glass.

She leaned closer and smoothed the waves of dark hair from his brow, wishing with her whole heart that he would stir or blink or breathe. She just wanted a small sign that he would return to life. “In your letter, you promised you would always try. Please try to come back to me,” she whispered, tilting her face toward his.

She didn’t enjoy touching him when he was so lifeless. But Evangeline remembered that when she’d been stone, she’d desperately longed for another person’s touch. Which was one thing she could give Apollo.

She cupped his waxy cheek and pressed a kiss to his unmoving lips. His mouth was soft, but it tasted wrong, like unhappy endings and hexes, and, as always, he didn’t stir.

“I don’t understand why you do this every day.” Jacks’s indolent voi

ce carried through the chamber.

Evangeline felt it rush over her skin, a slow fire that made the broken heart scar on her wrist burn like a brand. She tried to ignore both the scar and Jacks. She tried not to turn, not to look or acknowledge his appearance, but it probably would seem more suspect if she continued to kiss Apollo’s unmoving lips.

Slowly, she straightened, pretending that every inch of her skin wasn’t prickling like her scar as Jacks swaggered forward.

He was dressed with more care than usual. A series of silver links secured the midnight-blue cape at his shoulders. His velvet doublet was the same deep blue, save for the smoke-gray embroidery that matched his fitted trousers, which were tucked neatly into polished leather boots.

She shot a look past him, toward Havelock and the other guard at the foot of the stairs, but they were doing nothing. Jacks must have magicked them. Most people believed that the Prince of Hearts’ only power was his deadly kiss, but Jacks also possessed the ability to turn humans into puppets at his will. His Fately power was more limited in the North, but he could still control the emotions and hearts of several humans at a time.

Thankfully, these powers didn’t allow him to control Evangeline. He’d tried before, but she had simply heard his thoughts. He could also hear her thoughts if she projected them. But sharing her thoughts with Jacks was not something Evangeline desired to do right now.

“Do you kiss the prince because you actually enjoy it?” Jacks asked. “Or is it because you honestly think it will magically revive him?”

“Maybe I do it because I know it will annoy you,” Evangeline answered archly.

Jacks flashed a smile that was far more wicked than welcoming. “Glad to know you’re thinking about me when you kiss your husband.”

Heat flushed her cheeks. “I’m not thinking nice things.”

“Even better.” His eyes sparked, gem-sharp blue with threads of silver, and far too pretty to belong to such a monster. Monsters were supposed to look like … monsters, not like Jacks.

“Did you come here just to irritate me?”

Jacks sighed, slow and dramatic. “I’m not your enemy, Little Fox. I know you’re still angry with me, but you’ve always known what I am. I never tried to pretend otherwise, you just let yourself believe I was something I’m not.” His eyes turned metallic and utterly unfeeling. “I’m not your friend. I’m not some human boy who will tell you pretty lies or bring you flowers or gift you jewels.”

“I never thought you were,” she said. But perhaps a small part of her had. She hadn’t imagined that he’d bring her flowers or presents, but she had started to think of him as a friend. A mistake she would never make again.

“Why are you here?” Evangeline asked.

“To remind you that you can easily save him.” Jacks casually shoved his hands in his pockets, as if making another deal with him would be as simple as giving a baker some coins for a bit of bread.

Perhaps, at first, it would seem that way. If she told Jacks she’d open the Valory Arch, Apollo would wake tonight. There would be no more worries about this new heir. But Jacks would still be there—he’d be there until he found the missing arch stones. And Evangeline needed Jacks gone, perhaps as much as she needed to wake her prince. As long as Jacks was in her life, he would continue to ruin it.

She’d been trying to find a cure for Apollo, but maybe what she really needed was to find a way to get rid of Jacks.

“The answer is no, and it will always be no.”

Jacks crossed his arms and leaned against the bedpost. “If you really think that, then you lack imagination.”

Evangeline bristled. “I do not lack imagination. I merely possess determination.”

“So do I.” Jacks’s eyes flickered with something malevolent. “This is your last chance to change your mind.”

“Or what?” Evangeline asked.

“You’ll really start to hate me.”

“Perhaps I look forward to hating you.”

The corner of Jacks’s poisonous mouth twitched as if the idea vaguely entertained him. Then a clock chimed somewhere above. Seven loud strikes.

“Tick-tock, Little Fox. I was trying to be kind by giving you time to consider the offer I made in the library, but I’m tired of waiting. You have until tonight to change your mind.”

She tried to ignore the twist in her gut. If putting Apollo in a state of suspended sleep was Jacks’s kind way of trying to persuade her, she dreaded what else he might do after tonight. And yet she still couldn’t imagine that partnering with him again would leave her better off.

She turned to leave.

A hand gripped her wrist.

“Jacks—”

But the hand holding her didn’t belong to Jacks.

His skin was cool and marble smooth. The hand that had grabbed her burned.

Apollo?

Evangeline turned back to her prince, excitement surging through her. He was—

Wrong.

Moments ago, his eyes had been dull as sea glass, but now they glowed red, like burning rubies and curses.

Evangeline whirled on Jacks—or she tried to. It was difficult to move with Apollo’s hand iron tight around her wrist.

She glowered at Jacks. “I thought you were giving me the rest of the night?”

“I didn’t do this.” His gaze shot from the prince’s glowing red eyes to Evangeline’s captured wrist.

She tried to pull free, but Apollo’s fingers dug in with more force.

She tugged harder.

He squeezed tighter, painfully tight, making her yelp as she yanked against him.

His eyes still glowed that awful red, but he didn’t appear awake—he seemed possessed, or perhaps desperately fighting to wake up.

Her chest tightened with panic. “Apollo—”

“He can’t hear you.” Jacks pulled out a dagger with a shining black blade.

“What—”

“He’s going to break your bones!” Jacks slashed Apollo’s hand with the knife.

Blood spattered her skirts as the prince dropped her wrist and the red disappeared from his eyes.

[sadlysoulx]

Haikyuu characters thinking you want to break up with them

part 1 (Atsumu& Sakusa)

Heyyyoo~ I'm sorry I haven't post in a while school's bad and it managed to get into my nerves without me going to the place itself plus i have now wifi so I have to connect to my dad's data☹️ Thanks for 33 followers😭💖!! Especially to my friend Mocha berry who supported me :)

Would be doing Tsukishima and Ushijima in part 2 ;)

⚠️Warning⚠️: swearing, not proofread

ATSUMU

"I really have enough!" Atsumu banged his fist down the table, making you flinch and take a step backwards.

"You are so fucking dramatic," he pointed at your shivering figure.

"I'm dramatic?" You asked hysterically. "I'm the ones who's dramatic?" You asked again, glaring back at Atsumu. "Open your eyes, 'tsumu! You're the one who made this into a bigger issue!"

"Me?!" Atsumu screamed back, finally making your tears fall down. "Y/N! If you weren't do clingy, this wouldn't happen!"

"Its not my fault that my boyfriend doesn't have time for me!" You fisted your hands.

"And this is fucking why I regretted to ask you to be my s/o!"

You stopped. Brain stopped functioning as you slowly let his words sink in, and to your despair, he didnt stop there.

"If you weren't my s/o, I would have a free life without you whining around like a kid," Atsumu was still shaking from anger.

"I would have the best life without you," he muttered.

More tears flowed down on your face.

"Fine!" You walked out the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, making sure you bang the door open.

You grabbed your bag and began stuffing down your clothes.

You heard loud and fast footsteps and in the corner of your eye, you saw Atsumu standing and peeking in the door, regret filled his eyes.

"Y/N—"

"If your not contented with me," you began as you take another bag and filled it with toiletries. "Then find another s/o, I wouldn't mind,"

You swung your bag over your shoulder and quickly breezed past him out the door.

"Y-Y/N!" 

Tears prick your eye since again as you quickly fumbled with your house keys and shakily tried to shove the the keys into the keyhole.

Atsumu grabbed your arm, trying to pull you to his chest.

"Y/N! Babe—"

"Don't fucking call me Babe!" You turned to him, new fresh batch of angry tears flowing down your cheeks. "Save that for your new s/o!"

You could see Atsumu's eyes turn glassy, his bottom lip trembling.

You successfully unlock the main door and you walked out of your apartment, striding down the hallway and waiting for the elevator.

Atsumu quickly followed you to turn annoyance, sniffles escaping his trembling lips constantly.

You hated seeing him hurt, especially if your the one who cause it. Imagining him with another person left a sour taste in your mouth.

But now that Atsumu said that he wished he wasn't your s/o, you knew that it wouldn't be long for him to find a new someone— if ever the both of you really make things over.

You distracted yourself by looking up the escalating red digital numbers that was labeled up the elevator doors.

In the corner of your eye, you see Atsumu opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something but he couldn't. His hands hesitantly trying to reach out for you, his head hung low, tears dripping out of his red eyes pitifully.

The elevator doors finally opened and that's when Atsumu find his courage to talk to you.

"Y-you're really gonna leave me, aren't you?" He whispered softly, only loud enough for you to hear.

You stopped your attempt to walk in the elevator and stare aimlessly somewhere.

His sniffles and hiccups were getting worst. He was obviously trying to stop himself for crying.

You watch as the elevator doors close infront of you.

Turning to him, you saw his huge mascular figure shaking violently and his head still hung low.

"You are, aren't you?" He asked shakily again.

You dropped your bags and threw yourself to him, hugging him tightly.

He finally broke down, loud sobs echoing the empty hallway and hugging you back tightly.

"I'm never gonna leave you, 'Tsumu," You sobbed into his chest. "Never. . . I can't do that, I love you so much,"

"I'm so sorry, baby. . ." Atsumu sobbed into your hair. "Shit. . . I'm so sorry. . . I- I didn't mean what I said, I would never replace you– Fuck! Please forgive me baby. . ."

You let out a watery sob.

"H-hey, it's fine 'Tsumu." You looked up at his slightly swollen and wet but dreamy eyes. "I'm sorry for being dramatic," you giggled slightly.

He wiped your tears.

"It's fine baby," He smiled at you through his teary eyes, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I love you. . ."

"I love you more,"

He smiled, his eyes suddenly lighten up more.

"Hey, I found a really good movie in Netflix! It's a horror movie, let's watch it together!" He smiled down at you, gripping your hands.

"Okay! Let's watch it tonight!" you smiled up at him.

He smiled wider and cupped your cheeks, leaning down to kiss you.

Sakusa

Sakusa groaned. He stood up straight and made the mop lean towards the wall.

He scanned the living room all sparkling clean. Walking towards the couch, he plopped himself down, sighing in relief.

Sakusa having a bad day is an understatement.

The weather is bad, rainy and muddy outside, making their volleyball practice get cancelled for their own safety. Just today, when he woke up, he found that you weren't around. Sakusa had no idea where you went and it angers him that you didn't let him know. He waited for you and he spent his time cleaning the house and yet it has been an hour since you left.

And he hadn't have his breakfast and it made him more grumpier and more icy than ever.

Sakusa stood up and was about to go to the kitchen to eat on his own when the door opened, revealing you in muddy clothes.

"Hi babe!" You softly chuckled before breaking out in to a harsh and loud cough.

Sakusa flinched at that.

He observed you as you drop the plastic bags filled with what he assumed groceries.

He watched as you slowly walk into the living room, leaving a disgusting trail of wet puddles and mud.

Sakusa clicked his tounge.

"Y/N!" He frowned as you stopped in the middle of the living room, looking up at him. "I just mopped up the floor!"

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

"Save it Y/N. . ." He clicked his tongue in annoyance once more, picking up the mop again. You knew he was mad, and you tried not to worsen the mood more. "Look what you did!"

"Babe. . . I'm really—"

"I said save it!" He raised his voice higher making you shut up. "Where are you from?"

"I went to the grocery—"

"We still had a lot of food!" Sakusa pointed the way to the kitchen, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

"No, there isn't—"

"Shut up okay?!" Sakusa banged the mop on the floor harshly, you flinched. Tears threatened you.

He wasn't always like this and if he ever is, it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Sakusa run his hands through hair, tugging it stressfully.

"Go to the bathroom and clean yourself!"

You slowly slumped across the living room in the way to the bath.

"If you want to be part of this household, then make yourself useful. . ."

You turned around just as he finished whispering those words.

"What?"

Sakusa turned to you.

"I said 'If you—'"

You laughed, humorlessly.

"So you're saying I'm not useful?" You voice cracked with sadness.

Sakusa only stared at you with his stoic expression.

"That I'm worthless?" You pointed to yourself.

Sakusa frowned. "I didn't say that—"

"But you're making it sound like that!" You raised your voice, running your hands through your damp hair angrily and in stress.

"You're the one who's making it mean like that!" Sakusa exclaimed, slightly shaking from anger.

"I am your fucking s/o! And you have the audacity to insult me!"

Both of you argued on and on, the clock ticking away, voices getting louder than the last. You don't know when would this end and how.

Both of you were stubborn, both doesn't want to lose from the other.

Until, Sakusa had enough. He swiped the things away from the coffee table, making the fragile things on it shatter loudly, triggering the tears that sat on the edge of your eyes and fall down your cheeks.

"Would you shut it?!" Sakusa's cheeks glowed red.

"You're not telling me what to do!" You shouted back.

"You are so fucking stubborn!" His voice trembled. "You know what? I regretted to be with you!" He screamed shakily, pointing at your smaller figure.

Tears flowed down your cheeks more. You stepped up to him, you didn't care if you're still damp with rain.

"And you know what? I did too," you spat the words with venom and you saw Sakusa softened, guilt immediately swan in his eyes.

You immediately walked to the main door and Sakusa immediately followed, trying to string his sentence but it all ended up with a stutter mess.

"Y/N!" He called as you banged the main door close, you walked out the glass doors and you were immediately met with heavy rain pouring down your back harshly.

You didn't know where to go and you panicked when you hear Sakusa running to you from behind.

"Y/N!"

You tried to run away but he gripped your wrist, making you turn to him.

"Y/N. . . Please. . . please. . ." He grabbed your hands and clasped his huge hands around yours, looking at you with pleading eyes. "I didn't mean—"

You sobbed.

"Maybe it's better if you find someone new. . ." You tried to pry your hands away from his, in which you successfully did due to him staring at you in shock.

"What? No! I won't replace you!" He shook his head, making his now curly hair sway along with him.

He paused, guilt swimming at the pit of his stomach and his lungs, making it hard to think and breath.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

You looked up at him and you immediately spoke.

"I—"

"No,no,no,no," he chanted, tears swelling his own eyes. He held your hand as he let out a sob that he tried to keep in.

He knelt down still clasping your hands, looking up at you. Sakusa broke down, sniffles, hiccups and sobs escaping his trembling lips.

"No,no,no, please don't break up with me," he cried.

You cried with him as you knelt down beside your lovely boyfriend.

"Please don't, Y/N. . . I- I can do anything! Just forgive and stay with me—"

You peck his lips, making him shut up.

"I won't break up with you, silly boy," you went to his chest as he hugged you right, both of you crying hard and not really caring of you're out in the rain.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"I'm sorry too," he sobbed back.

You pulled back and wiped his tears, and he did the same, which was useless since the rain was still drenching you both.

"Let's dance in the rain?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him as you let out a distorted laugh since your throat is still sore.

"That only happened in cringy romantic movies," he let out a watery laugh of his own.

Nevertheless, you both stood back on your feet and danced in the rain.

Whew! That was a trip, my finger really said ✨No✨ when I wanted to make another angst for an another character.

Thanks for reading this blog and likes and reblogs are appreciated ;)

I hope my likes won't go down for not posting in a while :(

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[nameless-ken]

Henry Cavill Series - Part Five

Summary: You never imagined falling in love would be the scariest but easiest thing for you to do. Especially when it came to him.

Warnings: so much fluff & angst

Words: 1.8K

Request open

Masterlist

I want to be the best thing in your life.

Henry wakes up to his head pounding against his skull. He groans knowing he shouldn't have drank so much last night. He presses the palms of his hands to his eye as the sun pours in through the curtains. He turns his back to the bright light and slowly opens his eyes to the empty side of the bed. He reaches his hand over to the bedside table where a piece of paper is standing up with his name on it. 

Good morning H, 

Set out some painkillers and water for you cause I know you'll need it. I'm out at the grocery store. 

Be back soon! Y/N.

Henry smiles to himself and runs a hand through his hair. He sits up in bed, grabbing the medicine and glass of water, swallowing the two pills. He wishes he could have woken up with Y/N beside him. He would always wake up before her whenever they’d fall asleep after school. It was his favorite time to admire her. 

Last night he met with the owner of a fitness gym and he really liked it. He made sure to get answers for his boss in London but got along with the power so well, he invited Henry out for drinks. After that meeting, Henry could really see himself living and working in New York. He’d get to see Y/N more. Yesterday when Y/N told him she was a reason for him to stay, he almost quit his job right then and there but that’s now how real life works. 

Y/N’s comment has him thinking of how he really feels about her. He’s not sure what he is feeling but he knows he can’t live without her in his life. 

After a shower, Henry walks downstairs with just a towel around his waist in search of some food. He walks in noticing you have gotten back and is putting the groceries away. He leans against the entryway of the kitchen and crosses his arms. He watches as you try your best to put something on the top shelf in a cabinet.

"Need help?" You turn your head and drop what’s in your hand. You quickly look away from him as walks over, picking up what you dropped on the floor. Henry reaches over you and sets it on the top shelf.

"There you go." He smiles down at you. You feel hotness rise up your chest to your cheeks. Henry steps back and leans against the counter as you keep your back to him, continuing to put things away.

"How's your head feeling?" You clear your throat, trying your best to not sound flustered. 

"Better thanks to you." Henry smirks, eyeing your reaction. 

"Have a nice shower?" You retort. 

"It was lovely." 

"Do you usually walk around in just a towel after?" 

"No, I usually walk around naked." Henry knows what he is doing but can’t help but love the reactions you give him. 

"Well, in my house clothes are required." You turn around with arms crossed, squinting your eyes slightly trying to act serious. Henry walks closer to you and leans down to whisper in your ear. 

"I'm sure you'd be more comfortable without them." Henry watches your body tense up. "But for you, I guess I'll go put some on." He laughs and walks to your room. 

After Henry comes back down fully dressed, you hand him a plate with a sandwich on it. He leans down and kisses your cheek as a thank you. He can’t help but constantly make you feel flustered. He leans against the counter as you sit on top of it, enjoying lunch together. 

"So, I was thinking tomorrow, you know before you start your new job, I could take you somewhere to celebrate." Henry mentions.

"You don't have to." 

"I want to."

"Only if it's nothing fancy." 

"Deal." Henry winks at you and you smile in return. 

The rest of the day is spent with Henry and you working on your couch. He has emails and meetings with his boss while you have some pre-work paperwork and emails being sent out. You’ve felt Henry look at you a few times but don’t let him know you know. 

Being here right now has your mind racing with all kinds of thoughts about your future. You’re so excited about your new job but are scared about getting older and where your life is headed. You slam your laptop shut, feeling a headache starting to form. You get up from the couch and walk over to the big bay window, watching the rain pour down outside. 

"What's wrong?" Henry sounds behind you. You bite your lip not knowing how to respond

"Y/N?" He says quietly, walking to stand next to you. "You can tell me anything.”

"Do you think I’m making a mistake?” You blurt out. 

"Mistake? About what?" 

"I feel like I'm making the wrong decision. About everything." You admit, not truly understanding what’s going on inside your head. 

"You're just overthinking it." He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. 

"You're probably right. It's just ever since my parents died and I graduated college, I've felt lost. Like something is missing in my life and I can't figure out what it is." 

"What do you think you're missing?" 

"A lot. I honestly don't know. There's just something that I know in my heart is wrong or not where it's supposed to be." 

"Y/N, you are the strongest person I know. The most independent, talented, bravest, kindest person. Those are just a few words to describe you. You inspire me to be better." Henry compliments. You turn fully to look at him.

"But you weren't there. After everything happened with my parents the only person I wanted was you. Before you left for London, do you remember what you told me?" 

"That I would always be there for you. No matter what." He gulps down the shame.

"But you weren't. Every time I was sitting alone in my room, crying for someone to hug me and comfort me, you never came. I'm realizing now that my tears weren't only from the loss of my parents, but also from the loss of you. You caused me more pain and tears than my own parents' death and I can't understand why. So, when you said you'd always be there for me, did you forget that you can't protect me from yourself?" 

Henry stands there in shock, not knowing what to say or what to do in this moment. He knows he can’t say anything to fix what happened but he wants to. He wants to give you everything in the world because you deserve it.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I-."

"Don't. You don't need to say anything.” You interrupt him, walking away. 

"Y/N, wait." He grabs your arm to pull you back. Your eyes meet his and he sees the tears welling up.

"Y/N, I know I can't make up for those years that we lost together, but I will try my hardest to fill the rest of them with so much happiness and excitement and love. You deserve nothing less. I wish I could give you so much more, but I can't, and I guess that's why I've always been so distant when it came to you. I can't give you what you want.” Heny spills his confession, trying to get his words together. "I feel like ever since we've reconnected, I've tried to get closer to you, but you always shy away from me. Why is that?" 

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Henry challenges you.

"I guess my problem is that I'm scared. I'm scared of getting too attached again. Giving someone the power to control me. To end my whole world whenever they feel like it." You admit the deepest secret hidden in your heart. 

"Am I close?" Henry brings his hand up to wipe the tears that have fallen down your cheek. 

"Too."

“Henry, I said nothing fancy!” You exclaim as you both arrive at the celebratory dinner he planned for you. 

“It’s not that fancy.” He remarks, pulling you by your hand inside. 

“Hi, name please.” One of the greeters asks. 

“Cavill.” 

“Alright, follow me.” The guy leads you to a booth near the far end of the restaurant. Henry pulls out your chair and you smile as you sit down and Henry sits in his chair. The guy hands you the menus and tells you the waiter will be right with you. 

“Order whatever you want. It’s on me.” Henry opens his menu, surveying the options. 

“I can’t believe you did this. You know I would be fine with a damn McDonalds happy meal.” You argue. 

“I know you would but you also deserve nights like these.” He looks at you over the menu.

“I appreciate what you’re doing Henry. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I want you to enjoy this moment.” Henry waves the waiter over and orders a bottle of white wine and you choose your food. The waiter leaves and you can’t help but just stare at Henry. You’ve come to realize how gorgeous he’s still is after all these years. It’s almost unfair that he’s only gotten better looking. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Your eyes meet his but you look away, face flushed from being caught. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything. Always.” Henry leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, eyes burning holes into your skin from his intense gaze. 

“What do you see when you look at me?” 

Henry ponders for a moment as the waiter appears, pouring the wine in each of your glasses. The waiter eventually leaves and Henry reaches over, taking your hand in his as he looks into your eyes again. 

"I see a beautiful woman with a strong, soft heart but a corrupted mind." Your eyebrows scrunch together slightly as he continues. "Thoughts and ideas damaged by broken promises and lies. Sad memories floating around and taking over all the happy ones. I see a girl whose mind is constantly battling with her heart because her heart chooses to feel what her mind chooses to ignore."

You feel your throat close up and swallow a lump back, trying your hardest not to burst into tears. He is the only person who has ever understood you. Every thought and every emotion. You don’t even have to say anything but he already knows. 

"Please don't leave me again." You plead, gripping his hand in yours. 

"I'll always come back to you, my angel." Henry brings your hand up to his lips, laying a kiss on top and along your knuckles. “I want this to be the best chapter of your life. I want you to relish this moment and hold it close. I want you to take every risk and every chance at success and happiness that comes your way. I don’t know anyone else who deserves it more.” 

At that moment, you realized, you want to spend the rest of your life with him because he is the best thing in your life.

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