#it’s not that I’ve never felt worse in my life it’s the overwhelming conviction that it was always bad & will never get better

[newnamesamecharlotte]

The tricky thing with my depression is that when I have a depressive episode, I am convinced that I was never happy in my life, that all the times in the past I thought I was happy, I just lied to myself… and at the same time I’m convinced that it will never get better, that I will always be that unhappy…. And this feeling is so overwhelmingly convincing that the voice of reason pales in comparison…

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1

This is my first time publishing any of my reader insert work so don’t be too hard on me. Y/N is a psych student that needs a favor and asks her therapist for help. Lmk if you want to see more.

It was an unmistakable conflict of interest, your relationship with Hannibal. He was your therapist, your mentor, your partner, and many years your senior to boot. You recognized this monumental power imbalance. You put on a façade of embarrassment for the people who expected it; people whose proclivities were done in the shadows and therefore easier to get away with. Why should you be expected to rationalize your loving, mutually beneficial relationship to a person who regularly cheats on her boyfriend?

You'd dated men your own age before, and without fail, you always found yourself waiting for them to grow up. Hannibal made you feel comfortable. Both emotionally and physically. You had a side of his bed and a spot in his arms to fall asleep in every night. Given the choice, you could truthfully say you'd never want to leave his arms.

Like many unlikely relationships, it didn’t start out in the most romantic of ways. Clutching your laptop under your raincoat, you hesitated knocking. Your therapist had, of course, seen you at your lowest points and was sworn to secrecy, but this was a low you didn’t want even him to see. Standing outside of his home, in the so-incredibly-not-business-hours dead of night with mascara running down your face. 

You finally worked up the nerve to knock, telling yourself that he was probably asleep and wouldn’t hear you. This rationalization fell apart when the interior light turned on and the door unlocked. Although you’d been seeing Dr. Lecter for quite a while, his presence never failed to intimidate you. Now it was even worse. His severe expression was fixated on you as he silently awaited an explanation. 

“Dr. Lecter...” You lowered your head and fumbled with your computer. You made a point to kiss your last shreds of dignity goodbye before you opened your mouth again. “...could I please borrow a book?” 

Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes. “I take it by the hour, this is an urgent matter, Miss [L/N]?”

“My midterm. It’s due in...” You glanced at your watch. “Eight hours.” 

“Well you don’t have a moment to waste, now do you?” Dr. Lecter said, a slight upturn in his voice connoting amusement. “Come in. Let’s find you that book.” 

You felt your muscles relax as he stepped aside to let you in. The house was spacious. Much too large for one person. That was really the only thing you could bring yourself to notice before he shut the door behind you. 

“Now what is this all-important book of yours called?” He asked, pulling your raincoat from your shoulders like he always did. 

“It’s called Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism.” You explained, tucking your computer under your arm. “By Robert Jay Lifton.” 

“You’re in luck, Miss [L/N].” His thin lips turned up into a smile. “I have a copy from my own years as a student.”

You breathed an audible sigh of relief. You tensed your muscles and held in your excitement at the prospect of something finally going according to plan, even if that plan was your third or fourth backup.

You followed him into his office, which reminded you more of Belle’s library than any workspace you’d ever encountered. He must have had thousands of books in this room alone.

“It’s a fascinating read, but not one you could finish in eight hours.” Dr. Lecter's voice echoed from somewhere in the office, getting lost in the books. “Even for the most ravenous of psychology students, of which I know you to be.” 

"Hardly." You muttered under your breath. "If that were the case, I wouldn't be begging for help at 2am before the final paper is due."

"Procrastination is only human, my dear." He assured you, his voice drawing closer. "It's common in those with deep-rooted insecurities about their competency."

"Now that sounds more like me." You joked, leaning back on your heels. "Should you really be trying to validate my bad habits? I feel like that's counterproductive."

"Scolding you would be more counterproductive." He corrected. "You've been scolded many times before and you continue your bad habits. Only when we get to the root of your behavior can you begin to reverse it."

He emerged from the bookshelves and handed you a beat-up copy of Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, which you graciously accepted. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter.” You said, placing your hand over your heart. "I owe you my life."

"I'd hardly equate your life to a used book, Miss [L/N]." Dr. Lecter said. "I feel like, as your therapist, we should talk about why you do."

You looked away, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe sometime in daylight. I've taken up enough of your time as it is. I'll get out of your hair now."

"It would take you more time to get back to your dorm that you could use writing." He said, matter-of-factually. "Write your paper in my office."

You looked at him in disbelief. Your judgment was clouded with energy drinks and desperation. So your usual self-sacrificing polite denial was steamrolled by a very enthusiastic acceptance. "I would be forever indebted to you, Dr. Lecter."

"Miss [L/N]," Dr. Lecter cut in. "You're a student, you need to study."

You didn’t really remember a lot of what happened after you wrapped your arms around his waist, too overwhelmed with gratitude to think if an embrace was even appropriate. It was the middle of the night, so you had an excuse if he shoved you off him. But surprisingly, he didn’t. 

You broke the embrace and gathered up your book and computer. “Seriously, I owe you big time for this. You’re really saving my life here.” 

“Go write your paper, [F/N].” He ordered. “We can discuss why you conflate your academics and your life during our next appointment. For now, make yourself at home.”

And that you did. Dr. Lecter retired back to bed and you spent a solid four hours typing away. An antique grandfather clock kept count for you. When you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, you sent the paper off to your professor, editing be damned. You let sleep compel you, comforted by the fact that you didn't have to think about your paper for at least another week before the grading period was over. 

Dr. Lecter’s desk was the most comfortable surface in the world to you that night, because you slept for six hours with only your arms as a pillow. It was the first rest your body had gotten in quite some time. You were gently coaxed awake by the smell of something delicious. 

You followed the smell into a kitchen that could rival those of Michelin-starred restaurants. Dr. Lecter was hard at work, cooking something that enticed your nose. He cracked an egg and looked up at you. “Good morning, Miss [L/N].”

“I’m sorry.” You said, shaking your head shamefully. 

“For?” He asked, fixing his attention back on his recipe.

“Falling asleep.” You dropped your shoulders.

“I told you to make yourself at home, did I not?” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. This time, he sounded like he was actually going to scold you. “Tell me, do you sleep at your desk at home?” 

“I try not to.” You answer with a shrug. 

“But when you feel yourself falling asleep, you usually put yourself to bed, right?” He continued.

You started to feel a bit stupid. “...yeah.” 

He poked at some sausage links in a frying pan, letting out a sizzle. “You could have taken the couch.”

“I guess I was just too sleepy to think of that.” You explained, preparing to be psychoanalyzed no matter what you said.

“No, you were just too polite to push the imagined boundaries of my invitation.” He concluded, busying his hands with plating whatever it was he was making. His tone was comfortingly familiar. “Miss [L/N], don’t sacrifice your comfort for what you think I perceive to be rude. If I found you rude, you’d know it.”

"I'm sorry." You repeated.

"Don't apologize." He said, reaching for the pepper mill. "I know your anxiety disorder makes you feel like you are a burden. I assure you, you are not. I want you to know for next time that the couch is open. Or you could take the guest bedroom."

You stopped yourself before you could apologize again. You momentarily pondered what he had to say before uttering a quiet but convicted "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Dr. Lecter slid a plate across the table in your direction. "Eat, my dear."

You didn't need to be told twice. You usually didn’t care for sausage, but reconsidered when you took a bite. The meat was so flavorful and rich, a little noise of delight escaped your lips.

Dr. Lecter smiled, your little moan sending his ego through the roof. “You like it?” 

“It’s delicious.” You put your fork down, your face flush with embarrassment. “Way better than the food at the dining hall.” 

“Miss [L/N],” Dr. Lecter began, putting an extra sausage link on your plate. “If you find yourself in need of psychology texts, I’d be happy to extend my invitation indefinitely.” 

You nearly choked on your eggs. “On god?” 

“Given that you arrive sometime before midnight and perhaps call ahead, yes.” He answered. “Your studies are your life and breath, after all. You would find yourself very accommodated to here.”

This time, you'd really take him up on his offer.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Thorin x Reader- One Foot in Front of the Other

Hellooooo! I was wondering if you could write a Thorin X Reader where it’s on the road or in Erebor. The reader suffers from an anxiety attack so Thorin calms her down and helps her go to sleep? @thethorinoakenshieldsimp

warning: it was 4am when I wrote this and I didnt proofread

It was a perfect storm that brought you to your knees. Half of the company had been injured in a sudden attack by a single orc who had been scouting the area on his warg. You had all been caught unaware and by the time any of you had reached for your weapons it was too late for the fight to be swift and clean. Bombur had a wound that ran the entire length of his calf, Nori had a dent in his forehead that was bleeding into his eyes, two of Oin's fingers had been broken and worst of all Thorin had been rendered unconscious by a foul hit to the back of his head that required stitches.

Each look of shock and howl of pain had made your legs turn to jelly and the blood in your veins churn slowly as you froze up. Your hand had still been hovering just above the hilt of your dagger, still sheathed, as your friends-- your family-- fought for their lives. It wasn't the first time, yet it was the first time that your hesitance had resulted in bloodshed.

The chaos that day was enough that no one seemed to notice the pallid cast to your teary eyes or the quivering of your bottom lip. The dwarves, wizard, and hobbit who you had spent weeks with were made of something stronger as they forgot of the attack the moment they were stitched up and found another place to set up camp.

You were grateful that your emotions escaped the scrutiny of your dearest friends as you all gathered around a fire that night. The warmth of the flames were beginning to become too much as you all just sat. Weren't they concerned? What if you were to be attacked again? What if Thorin- what if anyone you cared for- befell a fate more terrible than a wound that could be stitched up?

They have nothing to fear, they are warriors. You are the fool who hesitated. If they are to die it will be because of your mistakes.

Suddenly, you couldn't take in a full breath of air.

You would blame the choked gasp that escaped you instead on the smoke rising from the fire as you stood abruptly, hands squeezed into fists. Your nails were biting into your palms and it was all you could do to ground yourself as you took shaky steps away from the fire.

"I'll be back!" You tried to inform everyone but your voice came out quiet and trembling. Only Thorin caught your words, having been seated a foot away from you on his bedroll. He gave a sharp nod and you stumbled over every step you took until the laughter and conversation of your friends had faded into a muted buzz. The fire was a speck when you looked behind you.

You fell to your knees in the high grass, dew seeping into the knees of your trousers. You took a deep inhale, held it for three seconds-- one... two...three...-- and attempted to exhale at a similar pace. You couldn't fall apart, not when there were people counting on you.

Go ahead, fall apart. They know when the time comes you won't be of any use. Thorin knows that you can not be depended upon.

Your own thoughts were a hard right hook to your fragile state and you dug your palms into your eyes to hold back tears. "I've got to get out of here,"

"Do you truly mean such words?"

You froze in place, once again rendered immovable by an ambush. You had certainly not expected anyone to follow after you, let alone the holder of your heart and the source of your courage on the roughest of days.

"I-I... Thorin what are you doing here?" You offered lamely, trying to coax your body into moving. You tried to stand but you were feeling such whiplash that instead you stayed on the grass, choosing to face Thorin despite the redness of your cheeks and the glassiness of your eyes.

"You seem....unwell,"

The dwarf before you seemed uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the dark landscape spread out around you all. The two of you had this clearing all to yourself, your company tucked into the trees; eating rabbit stew and laughing. It seemed Thorin would be much happier in their company. Your head began to spin again but locked onto the only possibility. He must be here to reprimand you.

"It wont happen again, I promise!" You hurried to say but you felt fear well up in the pit of your stomach. What if it did happen again? "I froze and that is unacceptable but I need to see this through Thorin, I need to be here," Even if it's as a shield, I can be of use.

Thorin's gruff features warped into a mix of understanding and confusion. Your fearless leader knelt in the grass, so near that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. If you reached out you could touch his chest, tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, hold his hand. It would never be welcome, but you longed to prove yourself to Thorin and to win his heart.

"I merely mean to say that you seem bothered from today's events," Thorin supplied and you pressed your lips into a thin line to keep from rambling all of your overwhelming thoughts and apologies.

"You are a brilliant and necessary member of this company Y/N. What occurred today was my fault alone. If I'd only anticipated..." Thorin's eyes were distant, a thunder cloud darkening his features. "You could have been injured or worse today and I understand if you are questioning my abilities as the head of this company. I vow to you that I will be more cautious from now-"

Your eyes felt as if they were bulging from their sockets, your shock at Thorin becoming shy and uncertain in front of you made your heart swell with affection and your belly burn with the need to protect him. You were terrified of being a useless body on this adventure when Thorin seemed to have the same damning beliefs occasionally.

"I will follow you anywhere you go, Thorin Oakenshield, I trust you with my life, and would protect you with it as well," You spoke quickly, that need to comfort him encouraging you to take his hand. It wasn't as if you had never touched the dwarf before, you knew that his hands were calloused and worn with work and battle but also gentle and steady. Yet, you were bewildered at the butterflies in your stomach that erupted at the simple gesture.

Thorin was seemingly taken aback by the conviction in your previously tremoring voice because he looked at you with saucers for eyes and that stormy grey brightened. You dropped his hand.

"I know you will, mudùmel,"His nickname for you familiar in all but definition. You wished he would give you relief and help you understand but no one seemed eager to tell on Thorin. You hoped it was nothing too cruel. He didn't seem to be the type of dwarf to mock those he led to battle however, so you held some hope it was fond.

"But I can see the toll that our journey has taken on your mind. I too have collapsed under the weight of freezing in battle and the consequences that followed have never left my mind. You were not at fault and I hate to see the torment in your eyes."

"Thorin, what if-"

"No," He sighed softly. "Please do not venture down roads that are better left untraveled. I have unending faith in you, Y/N. You belong here and I will stand for no one, not even yourself, questioning that. All I can ask of you is that you keep taking one step in front of the other and that you never doubt your place in this company."

The world had stopped spinning long ago, your breath returned to a rhythmic inhale and exhale as Thorin picked at the jagged pieces of your mind and then smoothed them over. Your feelings weren't going to vanish but you did feel a spark of pride in yourself-- Thorin surely lending you some of his own pride in you.

"Thank you," Your gratitude was clear on your face and you prayed that Thorin would not look deeper and see the love you held for him. For now, gratitude and respect would be all that was between you two and it was all you needed.

"Come," Thorin offered his hand as he stood, accepting your thanks. "We belong with the rest of our company,"

As you walked side by side with Thorin, taking one step in front of the other, you became synchronized with the dwarf beside you and the steady strides you took to the camp helped kick away the last tendrils of worry and self doubt that had been so violently plaguing you before.

Thorin didn't drop your hand until Kili sent him a questioning look with a waggle of his eyebrows.

There were many things to be frightened of in this world, and many of those things were far beyond your control but, with Thorin ahead of you, it wouldn't be hard to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

[kirumod]

hello!! could i request headcanons for a gender neutral reader who is very energetic and optimistic, sort of like tenko, who is dating kirumi and wants to show her that her needs matter too? thanks so much in advance, have a wonderful day! your writing is amazing.

i appreciate getting requests with kirumi. as you may have guessed, she is very dear to my heart, so thank you for sending a request with her!

thank you so much for your kind words, anon! i loved writing this, it was very fun. it turned out to be very fluffy and cute. i hope you like it<3

The contrast between you and Kirumi is quite noticeable, and most are surprised to know that you are dating. Your optimism overshadows Kirumi's more realistic view on life— and pessimistic view regarding herself & her needs.

You recall the beginning of your relationship being quite dreary for you and exhausting for Kirumi. You used to compare talking with Kirumi to operating a machine; taking everything you say as a command. It was awkward at times, and 'conversations' often turned into one-sided chatter where your vitality outweighed her rigidity. You could not fathom why she seemingly had no concern for her own wants and needs, and you had to fight the impulse to ask her such a personal question. Despite this, you held immense respect for her steadfast conviction & unwavering resolve.

As for her, she was dazed by your relentless energy and occasionally found herself at a loss for words. Of course, she remained dignified and did not turn down your 'requests for conversation' as she put it, unless she had a crucial matter she needed to attend to. You were always one to initiate any interaction, but that is not to say that she disliked talking to you. Conversely, she admired your persistent positivity & incessant idealism, and as trust and understanding between you grew, she began prying about your attitude with curiosity and appreciation.

Every so often, you'd notice her neglecting even basic necessities such as eating in favor of taking care of others. Serving people overpowered her desires— or was it that serving people was her one desire? You found that difficult to believe. Either way, Kirumi was neglecting herself, and that bothered you. You weren't sure why you cared so much, and gradually, you found your thoughts preoccupied wondering about Kirumi.

True to your honest nature, you didn't attempt to hide your interest in Kirumi. You showed it with questions of concern such as "have you had lunch yet?" and "did you sleep well last night?", purposely phrased as questions instead of requests.

Then, the simple questions turned into lovingly made lunch boxes, walking through dimly lit streets, whispering good night wishes... You were a bit embarrassed by how attached you were to her, and spent many restless nights doubting that she felt the same. Hoping that she felt the same.

You remember the start of your relationship.

During a dinner with Kirumi in your house, you held back discomfort as Kirumi began cleaning up— something that you've begrudgingly grown used to. Ignoring her utterances that assured you she could take care of it, you followed her to the kitchen and waited for her to set down the platters she had. You watched her as she turned to you and felt your stomach turn over itself. Her confident gaze had wavered into a blank, soulless expression, and her upright posture trembled.

Then she collapsed. All your logic was muddied with dread, but you pushed through your clouded cognition and clutched Kirumi before her frail body fell to the ground. With no hint of hesitation in your actions, you carried her to bed and helped her with a glass of water followed by something sweet, concern evident from your sweating hands.

Thankfully, her condition improved soon after. She had been exhausted from countless days of overworking with very little sleep; you were grateful that nothing worse happened. That didn't stop you from sporadically scolding her with quick, jumbled sentences that stopped making sense at some point.

Kirumi stopped your erratic rambling to reassure you that all is well, but your worry only intensified. You subdued for a moment to wrap your hands around hers. Holding her breath, Kirumi waited for you to continue your scolding, startled to hear your next words spoken delicately yet desperately. "Please... Look after yourself,"

"You don't realize how much you mean to me– and how much you matter. You're important, Kirumi, not just to me or to your clients," you faltered for a bit before focusing your eyes on hers, "I hope you don't take this as a request. Because it's not! I just– I just want you to value yourself. You... Your needs are more essential than everything else– than everyone else." You continue staring into her bewildered eyes, stuttering more than ever before as you watch her. "So, please..."

Silence falls over the room, and you begin to let go of her hands. Before you can, though, she reaches out and holds your face in her palms, smiling as tears formed in her eyes. For once, Kirumi was at a loss for words, unable to do anything but try to keep her weak smile. You pull her head over your shoulder, wrapping yourself around her in a tight embrace, and her façade drops as she sobs.

Undignified, unseemly, inelegant- those were all words that could describe how she felt about herself in that moment. But she couldn't bring herself to stop, comforted by your warm affection & love.

After an eternity in your compassionate embrace, Kirumi leans back and speaks. "Thank you," she says, "S/O.. There is nothing I can say that may remain true to just how grateful I am to you. Your kindness, your affection, warmth... I am undeserving, S/O."

"I have avoided my feelings for so long, in fear of them becoming a hindrance to you or to my services. But, if I wish to honor your wishes..." she halts, before continuing with a genuine — and breathtaking — smile, "... If I wish to honor my wishes, I must be honest with you."

"I love you, S/O All this time, you've tried to care for me, concerned with my wellbeing, whilst treating me with kindness I've never felt before," she wipes her tears before continuing, "How could I not be infatuated with you?" she quietly chuckles.

It's your turn to hold her face between your arms, grinning and laughing. Kirumi is stunned, unsure whether or not she had said something wrong, but her worries fade when you lean into her and plant a soft kiss on her lips.

With your enthusiasm shining through stronger than ever, you call out, "I love you too! I love you so, so much! More than you can ever imagine! I love you, I love you, I love you!" It almost sounds like a spell, a declaration of your unending love, more fervent than any optimism could ever be; more passionate than any desire.

Overwhelmed by your intensity, she fell wordless again, but not before returning your kiss with one of her own; one that whispered all the love she could not describe, one that screamed her devotion and adoration like no words ever could.

Her resolute devotion and your paralyzing fervor were one, stemming from a fondness that would endure to become an eternal love.

You were not so different, after all.

[bridgyrose]

I’m in a Christmasy mood. How about a “it’s a wonderful life” inspired au?

This one is a bit longer, so its going to have a read more so Im not making a huge ass post on everyone's tumblr

Ruby sighed as she looked out to Atlas, the city burning as grimm flooded the streets, reminding her of what happened at Beacon. She got up and started walking back to her friends, their plan to take down the whale not going as planned. Everything had gone wrong. Her trying to use her eyes, Winter taking the bomb into the creature, Yang going off alone to find Oscar… the whole thing was a mess. She tended to the wounds of her friends, shaking slightly. “None of this would’ve happened if I wasnt a silver eyed warrior…”

“Is that what you really think?”

Ruby quickly drew her scythe, looking around. “Who said that?” 

A woman with brown hair appeared in front of her, smiling. “Do you really think your life would be better without your silver eyes?” 

“Who are you?” 

The woman walked closer. “My name is Amber. And I’m here to show you what would’ve happened had you not had your silver eyes.” 

Ruby put her scythe away. “And how, exactly, are you going to show that to me?” 

Amber approached Ruby and put a hand on her shoulder, using a gift of the gods to show Ruby what could’ve been. 

Ruby felt a bit disoriented as everything shifted around them, the city of Atlas changing to Vale, back to the dust robbery she stopped. She looked around, hesitating for a moment. “Why are we here? I stopped this from happening.” 

“You did, when you had silver eyes. Instead, now that you dont…”

Ruby watched as her own visage was tossed through a window, struggling to keep hold of her own weapon as a few thugs all jumped her. 

“Your uncle didnt teach you how to fight. Your father tried to keep you from being a huntress. But you still wanted to be one, teaching yourself and trying to prove yourself. You ended up here one night and once the robbery started, you tried to teach them a lesson, instead learning one yourself.” Amber waved her hand, forwarding to the aftermath of the fight. 

Ruby watched as her old home appeared, watching herself struggle to get inside, wheelchair bound with a broken leg and arm. “So I didnt get into Beacon. That still doesnt change much-”

“But it changed everything.” 

Ruby watched as clouds of mist swirled around them, bringing them to Beacon. She watched as Yang, Blake, and Weiss were still on a team together, along with Jaune. 

Amber sighed. “This team was never functional without you. Weiss ended up being the leader, mocking faunus for who they were. Blake will eventually get tired of it and run away. Jaune and Yang will try to get Weiss to go find her, but she’ll insist they’re better off without her.” She waved her hand again, forwarding through the events until they saw the docks. “When Blake ran to try to prove her own innocence, things took a turn for the worse. Without you meeting Penny and making friends with her, the White Fang outnumbered her and Sun.” 

Ruby watched helplessly as Blake and Sun were beat and left for dead by the sheer numbers of White Fang. As the cops arrived, they took Blake and Sun into custody, arresting them for trying to steal dust. “But they were innocent. Why dont they see that?” 

“Without you, Penny, Weiss and Yang showing up, many of the White Fang got away, helping those that couldnt and leaving Blake and Sun to take the blame for the gunfire and the missing dust.”

“But then… that means they would get expelled, right?”

“They’ll get lucky and Ozpin will vouch for them being hunters in training. But this breaks Blake. She will never learn to trust her team, going after the White Fang alone and ultimately putting herself in danger.” 

Ruby sighed and looked away. “O-okay, so things dont end up going well for Blake. What about Weiss? I’m sure she’s happier without me.” 

Amber moved them along to the Fall of Beacon. “Through the school year, Weiss stays bitter and angry, blaming Blake for everything that happened. Including when Beacon fell.”

Ruby watched her school burn again, but this time, things were different. More students laid dead from the grimm that started overwhelming them. More grimm poured through Vale, the Breach never happened, allowing grimm to pour in right into the heart of Vale, destroying everything and rushing up to the school. The wyvern grimm could be seen flying high above, raining more goo down and creating more grimm. 

Amber started walking forward, showing Ruby Weiss. “When the fall of Beacon happened, Weiss stayed for as long as she could to defend the school Right up until her father dragged her home.” She waved her hand again, showing Weiss in her bedroom at home, bottles of wine laying near her. “She did her best to try to keep her father from getting under her skin, doing what it took for her to be the best heiress she could be for her company. Unfortunately, it wasnt enough for her. Without anyone to lean on, without friends who cared about her that she could think about, the stress became too much. It didnt take long for her to start following in her mother’s footsteps.” 

Ruby slowly walked up to Weiss, watching her. “But.. she had her team-” 

“She never did.” 

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “But Yang and Jaune. They would’ve tried to help her, right? They could’ve kept her from going down this path.” 

Amber slowly shook her head. “They tried. And they failed.”

“She could’ve gone to Atlas Academy. That was always an option for her.” 

“And her father wouldnt hear it. Even Ironwood’s influence couldnt help her.” 

Ruby sighed. “O-okay, what about JNPR. T-they were better off, right?” 

Amber smirked a bit and showed Shade Academy to Ruby. 

Ruby hesitated for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. “I… I dont understand. Why would they come here?”

“Without you, they didnt have the conviction to go after Cinder. They stuck around Beacon for a while, trying to help with the clean up. Once it became clear what they were doing wasnt making a difference, they made their way to Shade with CFVY. Which reminds me…” The visage of Shade disappeared, showing the ruins of Haven. 

Ruby stood there, eyes wide at what she was seeing. “Haven… it’s all gone... “ 

“Since you never brought anyone to Haven, the White Fang succeeded in destroying it.” 

Ruby thought for a moment. “But Blake came around last time with other faunus from Menagerie. What happened to them?”

Amber sighed. “A-are you sure you really want to see this?” 

“I have to know what prevented Blake! That cant be my fault!” 

Amber waved her hand once more, showing Blake with Adam, donning the White Fang gear again. “As I said before, she learned not to trust humans. When she went off on her own to try to stop the white fang, things didnt go as they did before. Adam threatened her family and gave her a choice: join him again, or watch her family suffer because of her. With no one else to turn to, she chose to join up with Adam once more, being with the White Fang again. She led the White Fang’s assault on Haven, making sure nothing was left standing.” 

Ruby took a few deep breaths, taking everything. “So… without me… Weiss and Blake both fell back into their old lives? But… I couldn’t have made that much of a difference on them. What about Yang? Surely things ended up differently with her.”

Amber made one last gesture, taking Ruby to the Branwen tribe. 

Ruby walked around, looking for Yang, stopping when she found her. “No…” 

“I’m afraid so.” Amber walked up behind Ruby. “Raven told her about everything that was going to happen during the fall of Beacon. Yang didnt believe her at first. But after everything happened, after losing her team and believing Blake to be dead, she went off to find Raven to join her tribe.” 

Ruby sighed and sat down. “All of my friends, my team…”

Amber put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “And now for one last thing for you to see.” 

Ruby was about to ask until her vision went black. When she opened her eyes, she saw her own reflection staring back at her in the mirror. She hesitated for a moment once she saw blue eyes staring back at her. She took a moment to walk around the dark house, hearing her dad down stairs. She rushed down to him, stopping for a moment. “D-dad?”

Tai turned to look at her, clearly broken up about Yang leaving. “Oh, Ruby… it’s just you.” 

Ruby slowly walked to him and hugged him. “Are you okay?”

Tai hugged her back. “I’m fine sweetie. I was thinking about Yang and hoping she was okay.” 

“W-we could go after her-” 

“No. You’re going to stay right here. I’m not going to lose you too. I’ve already lost your mother, Yang, and Raven. I refuse to let you go.”

Ruby hesitated. “I… I can fight-”

“I said no. If anything, go take Zwei for a walk. But stay close. With the grimm crawling all around Vale, I cant risk you getting hurt too.” 

Ruby sighed and went to find Zwei, not believing what she was seeing. Everything just seemed… wrong. She went outside and looked up to the sky. “Okay Amber. I… I see your point. I… I want to go back now. Please.” 

Amber appeared before Ruby one last time. “Now do you see why you having silver eyes was never a bad thing? Ozpin may have only allowed you to join Beacon early because of them, but without that, you never would’ve made the impact on others as you have now.” 

“I’m… understanding that now.”

Amber smiled a bit as a flash of light appeared behind her. 

Ruby covered her eyes, feeling like she was blinded. Once the light died down, she looked around at her friends again, sighing in relief. She gently started changing Weiss’s bandages, thankful to have her team back. 

[inspirationdivine]

Shadows of the Heart || Morgan and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @mor-beck-more-problems, @inspirationdivine Summary: Lydia and Morgan discuss Remmy and life, until their summer day walk is interrupted by something terrible Warnings: Gore,  reference to vomit

There was a delicate pleasure in these summer evenings, where the sun still hung in the sky even so late in the day. The last weeks had been tiring, but ultimately rewarding, with the vampire dealt with and Remmy now safe. Lydia saw in them all the scars of that week, but also a lightness to them that she hadn’t seen in a month, since that wretched collar had appeared on their neck. Lydia’s ankle bounced under her when she saw Morgan approach. Standing up from the weather-worn bench, she smiled at the zombie. So much had changed since the last time they’d met. “Lovely of you to meet me. How are you, my dear?”

Morgan hadn’t guessed that Lydia would ever look at her so warmly and neither would she have figured that she would reach to hug the fae as if she were a friend of her own. At least, not this soon. But there was comfort in the other woman's arms and Morgan was ready to take as much of that as she could. “Better, I guess,” she sighed. “I stopped by the bakery for snacks. I probably should’ve asked what you like, but then it would’ve spoiled the whole part where it was a surprise so, uh, anyway--” She held out the small paper bag. “I hope you like cream puffs. There’s also those um, tiny french sandwich things they pipe with meringue? Seemed kinda like a safe bet.” Starting to feel awkward at her own eagerness (What was she trying to prove anyway? Didn’t they understand each other better by now?) Morgan stuffed her hands in her skirt pockets. “It’s good to see you too, you know, after everything. It still doesn’t feel like it’s over, but at least we’re, I don’t know, still alive to keep at it? Is that an awful thing to say when you’ve caused the deaths of a few people?”

“Oh, you wonderful person,” Lydia grinned, taking a proffered cream puff from the brown bag. “I do love to indulge in human food from time to time.” Which, Of course, unable to taste it Morgan wouldn’t. “This is very kind of you, what a lovely treat.” She didn’t think much of it, but Morgan seemed to briefly look uncomfortable, as if Lydia might have snapped at her for it. Lydia took a small bite of the cream puff as Morgan talked, and swallowed it with a small frown. “No, I don’t think it’s an awful thing to be glad that you’re alive. Death is a tragedy, but so is what was happening to Remmy.”

Morgan began to relax, pleased with her success. “Lucky guess,” she said. “We can take them on our walk with us, if you want?” In spite of Lydia’s strange but serene presence, Morgan was restless. It was harder than usual to slow down and be still. The impulse to run still burned in her muscles even if there was no longer any curse to escape or spectres chasing her on the horizon. “And, you know, you do have a point. That place was...awful. I saw one of the fights, the way people cheered for the destruction, for their...pain. I don’t understand how anyone could work there willingly, behind the scenes, guarding their...I don’t even want to guess what they called them. But it doesn’t feel like it’s really been balanced, you know?”

“That would be lovely,” Lydia agreed, falling in step beside Morgan, who had much more energy than Lydia felt in herself. The zombie was distinctly restless, and while Lydia was hardly at peace with the events of the last weeks, her manner was to internalise such things so deep that they might never erupt from her chest. It was the only way to cope with the hearts of two to four other humans alongside her own. “It was nightmarish. There can be an art to the act of war and battle, but I did not see it in there.” She chuckled, but the sound was twisted with a deep sadness. “Somehow, that sounds like a very spellcaster thing to ask. Don’t go looking for balance, Morgan, there is none. “

Morgan sighed and gave Lydia an apologetic smile. “I guess I’m still struggling to let go of being a witch. But in my defense, it was everything I was, my whole being. In school I had science club and student government and magic lessons. I double majored in college for magic. I made all my life choices around my curse, I moved around on my own for research, including here, and I--stupidly human or not, I was raised to think that there was some kind of sense to everything if you could look wide enough. And when I tapped into the universe for my magic I actually believed it sometimes. I thought all the lopsidedness in my life was because of my curse, but here we are, and I just don’t see any-- sorry.” Morgan deflated, finally gaining sense of her rant. The days had been strenuous and when she wasn’t picking apart the things she’d done or trying her damnedest to forget them, she was seeing Coraline’s body in the alley. “I don’t mean to be all…” She gestured helplessly. “It’s already been a week, and I saw something...so awful the other day. Which is part of why I was so ready and relieved to meet up in the first place! But--” But that dead girl, dead nix. What if it had been Mina instead of Coraline? “I’m just making a mess. Still. Sorry. Um, tell me what’s been going on with you. It must be a relief to have Remmy back, right?”

Lydia couldn’t do much but listen, nodding as Morgan vented. Her head just tilted in more concern. “I think it’s… natural, to want to find a fairness or balance of sorts, especially for everyone who isn’t fae. I don’t think you need to apologise for that. To us, the world is chaos, and sometimes it is… easier to remember that, than wish for something to repay it.” There was something more, and Lydia almost asked what, when Morgan sharply changed conversational directional. “Oh, um, alright. It is such a relief to have them back. I’m keeping the fridge stocked, they look so… underfed, but they’ve been doing better than I’ve seen them in a while. Aside from that, things have been good. A vampire was giving me serious trouble but I’ve promise bound him into finding his true love, which is a delightful twist of irony considering he doesn’t have a soul.”

“That’s good. We’ve been talking too, and I think things are getting better, and we all just probably need more time but that’s just--stars, that’s so good to hear.” Morgan managed a small laugh of admiration at the rest of Lydia’s escapades. “You know what, that is some amazing folkloric justice,” she said. “It kind of sounds like order to me. Maybe not human order, but putting some asshole in check with part of their own assholery is kind of brilliant. And, you know, I’m trying to reconcile the overwhelming amount of caos with everything I’ve known before and all, but, yaknow, witch justice kinda goes that way sometimes too.” She then grimaced at her own comment. Witch justice was supposed to work that way, giving people their due, what they’d earned, for better or for worse. “Not that witches always play by the rules they should,” she added, grumbling. “Is that what fae do when someone does something horrible to them in the supernatural world? Trick them? Make them pay somehow?”

"I'm glad they have you, whatever the future looks like." Lydia said softly, pressing her lips together in a grim smile. "Is it not? I was ever so proud when I came up with it," Lydia replied with a small laugh. While she listened, Lydia had to admit that the intricacies of witch magic didn't much interest her. Morgan was not a Spellcaster anymore. "No one plays by all the rules they should." Lydia tilted her head, thinking over the question as they passed a crowing Raven. "Not necessarily. The trickery  is a bonus, and a protective measure in equal parts. If the vampire left me alone I would not actively seek justice or balance." Lydia replied. 

Morgan considered this. It sounded more than fair, even accommodating, but it wouldn’t help her in the face of this killer. Her brow furrowed with thought as they walked until finally, “Lydia, what would you to someone who had killed another fae? And I don’t mean like what Remmy did, but something cruel. Torture. Something with the worst of intentions?”

“What a strange question,” Lydia replied, stopping in her tracks and turning to the other woman, frowning, clicking her nails against her thumb. “Why would you ask that?” She looked around, to the trees in the deep park, heavy with birds chirping their summer melodies, and pixies most would never even notice unless they were looking for them. “I know what I would wish to do, but Morgan, that doesn’t mean I’m capable of it. I’m not a violent person, nor do I think I ever could be. Not to mention, attracting the attention of hunters and spellcasters is not something I can easily risk. I have set bounties in the past, but that is the most of it.”

“Fine, okay, but what if you didn’t have to be the one to do it?” Morgan persisted. “If it didn’t have to come back on you, which, for the record, is my preference too, what should happen to someone who would do that, who would just take—” In the middle of their talk, Morgan hadn’t noticed their path, veering away from people and closer towards the tight, shadowy clusters of trees and bushes. She had not noticed the faint hint of death in the air either, not until she stopped. Her first thought was that it couldn’t be. If going out with Deirdre had taught her anything, it was that there was always some dead bird or squirrel to be found if you only knew where to look. But as Morgan scanned their surroundings, the ample cover for a stashed body, she couldn’t help but wonder. She sniffed the air, searching for the direction it was coming from, and started walking. Please, please be some stupid felled bird. 

“If I were to have my way, every last hunter would be dead,” Lydia replied darkly. “Every single one of them.” It wasn’t what she’d expected to discuss today, which was perhaps why she spoke so venemously, with convictions she’d spent a lifetime developing. At first, she didn’t catch the distant look to Morgan’s expression. “Why do you ask?” She asked again. “Morgan, is everything alright with Deirdre?” But Morgan wasn’t paying attention to Lydia, she was off walking, sniffing the air, as Lydia’s own chest began to ring a little. 

“Trust me, if someone had hurt Deirdre, I wouldn’t be asking for help in hypotheticals,” Morgan muttered. And it wasn’t a hunter, a fact that still made her head spin. She followed the pull of hunger until it was unmistakable. It brought her all the way to a copse of young oaks and bushes in need of trimming. This far at the edge of the park, whoever tended them had probably thought no one would notice. Morgan stood and waited to know what to do. She had to know. She also, depending on what she found, needed to not snack on a random body. But it was just a bird. Or a fox. Maybe some very random very human arm. Or one of those weird hands with eyeballs in them. Fuck it. Morgan peeled back the leaves and-- “No. Oh no.” It wasn’t a trick of her mind. Not an overreaction. She didn’t know what it was, but the bashed skull and the bloody stumps where something had grown from the head were enough to know the answer was not human. Morgan didn’t stop moving. She continued to stagger forward, clutching her stomach, until she tripped on a root and fell to her knees. She curled her fingers deep into the dirt, grimacing as she fought herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry…”

“Morgan? Morgan, you need to get away from the body. Please, Morgan, get away from the body.” Lydia felt bile rising in her throat along with the pitch of her voice, quickly stepping away from Morgan and the body both, trembling with fear. She had heard of this part. The human body never could fully handle the magic that had made them into something else. The human mind could only be reinforced so much, but it was not made to cope with being supernatural. The final outcome? That horrifying loss of control that Morgan seemed to teeter on the edge of as she collapsed, clutching her belly. Lydia needed to be ready to run, to try to outrun something like a mindless zombie. Her voice went shrill. “Morgan! Please, pull yourself together!”

“I’m trying!” Morgan screeched. She crawled further away, dumping her bag on the ground once again and ripping open her safety snacks with her teeth before stuffing a paprika dusted heart into her mouth. “It’s...not...a hunter,” she said, still chewing. She stuffed another one, trying to think about how rabbit hearts prepped the right way reminded her of those fruit  gummies with syrupy juice in the middle. She popped another one in her mouth. Raw really was best. “If it’s the same...as what I saw the other day...it’s something else.” She choked on her food, trembling. “What do you see? How...how bad is it?”

Lydia kept backing away, her heart hammering in her chest. There were trees she could fly into, or if she ran and screamed she might find some hapless human male willing to protect her, especially if she spat in his face. She flinched as Morgan screeched at her, hopping even further back as Morgan tore into her back and pulled raw flesh from her bag. Lydia cautiously snuck around her, gagging as her stomach tried to bring up the cream puff she’d been eating earlier. She knelt, carefully, next to the wispy corpse, her nose pinched. Blood had soaked the grass, but it was long dried. It wasn’t Felix, and it wasn’t Morelia, but Lydia the more Lydia looked, the less sure she was of all of that. “How can you possibly know this isn’t a hunter? This is what they do! They cut off the antlers for trophies or money!” Lydia’s voice cracked, tears prickling at her eyes. “Oh, this poor soul.”

“I--I don’t! I’m just guessing! I can’t even look! But if it’s the same...if the iron is…” Morgan struggled to string the words together. “If it looks like it’s part of the skin…” She stuffed an eye into her mouth and chewed furiously. “It’s what I was trying to tell you. A nix...I found her a few days ago...but I brought her to someone...and it was alchemy.” The word still burned in her mouth. She wasn’t sure which outcome she hoped for, one monster or two. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference, either way, two people had been killed in awful, terrifying ways. And for what? “What do you see, Lydia?”

“What do you mean if the iron is part of the skin? Warden’s skins can become iron!” Lydia replied, her voice still shrill as she blinked away tears, looking over the battered, ruined corpse. The beautiful light that should once have shone in those eyes, forever extinguished. “A nix? Morgan, what do you mean, alchemy?” The more she looked, though, the more the wispy shadows gave way to glinting iron, to burns so deep they were bloody. Lydia was going to throw up. “Morgan, I need- I need a moment. Just… stay away.” There was no way knowing whether this lampade was part of any Aos Sí, what dialect they spoke, but in America, English was the safest bet. If their soul was listening, they needed to understand. 

“May you rest quiet in the Whispering Grounds.” Lydia murmured, holding the lampade’s cold, stiff hand. She spoke in a strange lilt, words practiced over centuries to guide fae spirits past the ghostly form and into their thereafter. She moved her hand to the lampade’s lips. “You have kept all your words and promises to life alike. I relinquish you from what binds you to this world. Move forward, safely, knowing that you will lie with your brethren and your family will always have a home to turn to.” Her hand moved to his chest. “May your body fill with magic threads and the mushrooms dissolve the order of your body into chaos anew. They will create life from it, and the autumn equinox will be used to celebrate you. May your soul rest where you most wish it. You are relinquished from everything. Rest easy.” Lydia leant over the body, and pressed to their forehead a small kiss. “Taisteal sábháilte isteach san oíche.” Travel safe into the night.

Morgan groaned with frustration. “I mean someone tortured a fae with alchemy! And she died! And if it’s the same asshole---urrgh!” She couldn’t do anything like this, and she’d barely been able to talk about it with Lydia before they’d found the body. She staggered further away, where the park ended and the ground became rocky and dry. She heard, faintly, the murmurs of funeral rites for the body. She dragged herself a little further, feeling that it wasn’t something the was meant to be a part of, and did not stop until the smell of death grew fainter and her stomach began to relax. Morgan folded herself up tight and buried her head against her knees while she waited for Lydia to come find her. 

Lydia knelt by the body a moment longer, before slowly pushing herself upright, and walking nervously back to the zombie waiting at a distance. She did not try to hide the multitude of tear streaks on her cheeks, wearing them as proud as a crown. Morgan was curled up in a small ball, and with a deep breath Lydia knelt beside her, putting her arm over the younger woman’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmured, and hoped Morgan knew she didn’t say those words lightly. “I want… I want to get them to a real resting place. Can you help me carry them?” Lydia pressed her wobbling lips together, looking back at the wispy body. There was more of that body that was worth it for scavengers to harvest. Whoever that person was, they needed to rest where no spellcaster was welcome. The light would be right in an hour or two. They just needed a mirror. Lydia’s eyes glistened with angry tears. Even if it wasn’t a hunter, it was still a filthy human that had done this. “Then, after, Morgan, please tell me everything.”

[thestoryofhiccstrid]

HICCSTRID ONE SHOT: NIGHTMARES

So today is a very very special day!! Indeed, it's the birthday of my bestie @foreverandalwayshttyd , and I wanted to write you a little something sweetie ♡ I really hope you will like it, even though it will never be as good as I wish it could since you deserve the very best! Love you lot, you make me the happiest and I'm beyond grateful to have you! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY GIRLIE!!! I WISH YOU A YEAR FULL OF HAPPINESS, UNFORGETTABLE MEMORIES AND LOVE <3

Now, as for the context, it's taking place in rtte, after season 3 episode 5 :) I'm so sorry for all the mistakes I've made (hopefully not too much!!) Enjoy :D

☆☆☆☆☆

Astrid couldn't stop turning around in her bed, and her hut had never seemed so nerve-wracking and scary. There was sweat dripping on her forehead and her temples. It seemed to her that the bedroom was burning and that she couldn't do anything to make it stop, to put an end to this agonizing heat.

Her heart was racing, as if he was threatening to get out of her rib cage at any moment. Her headache and her arms shaking did not help to realise her overwhelming urge to find a normal breathing again and a less blurred view. She just could't focus on anything else than herself on the brink of death.

She was about to cry, and she hated that. Indeed, she couldn't cry just because of a nightmare! She was a strong and fierce girl, undoubtedly fearless! She was Astrid Hofferson for Thor's sake!

Well, even if she was repeating to herself this anchored thought of her, her shivers wouldn't stop, just like her heart pounding. It looked so true, she could feel the huge pain of the Scourge of Odin all over again, and it was simply so exhausting.

Suddenly, she heard someone knocking on her door boldly.

_ "Astrid, you forgot your knives on the table of the central pavilion. I ... I wanted to give them back to you... Can I come in?"

She immediately recognized the familiar nasally voice of Hiccup that she liked more than she would admit, always shy about her increasing feelings for him that were quite scaring her about how deep they were, and the last thing that she wanted was him seeing her being a total mess.

Since he didn't get any reply, he soon started to worry and decided to knock again, the want to make sure that she was okay devouring him.

But still, no reply at all.

_ "Astrid? Astrid! Are you okay?" he said, his voice full of concern for the girl that, only a week ago, caused him the fear of his life, but also the same girl that was always the main character of his craziest dreams (that may or may not include a passionate and all so desired kiss), since... well... since as long as he could remember.

_ "Yes, don't... don't worry Hiccup, I will take them tomorrow. But thanks."

She felt so guilty about not opening her front door to her... best friend? That was what he was to her, right? Or maybe more? No, what was she thinking about! And even if she had developed feelings for him, which is clearly not the case, would it be mutual?

She didn't know anymore... Another thing she wants to figure out, since there were so many different feelings rushing in her heart at the same time whenever his cute face full of freckles was in front of her. And his bright emerald eyes, those that looks at her like nobody else do, and that definitely were her weakness. She could litteraly get lost into them.

She thought for so long that he was just her best friend and nothing more than the guy who share with her the taste for adventure, the guy that completely changed her opinion about dragons and war, the guy the most awkward yet cute she ever met, the guy the most caring and protective and faithful to his convictions, and attractive...

By Odin! Did she just admit to herself that she found him attractive? Her?? And meaned every word she said, if not more???

She was so not the type of girl paying attention and importance about looks, but she had to admit that Hiccup was no longer a pretty boy with a sweet smile. No, he was so much more than that.

She just didn't want to put words on it, so afraid that it might reveal her obvious feelings for him, her uncontrollable want to be with him, to make him understand how much he means to her, how much she couldn't picture herself waking up without seeing his usual grin with his adorable crooked teeths, or his excitement about a new exploration that obviously imply rescuing dragons (and she wouldn't want it any other way).

How much she couldn't imagine doing any mission without him, get some sleep without saying him goodnight, eating if she was not sitting on her usual chair because then she would have to deal with the twins stealing her food or worse, having Snotlout teasing her about how she can't live without him.

How much she cherishes every single thing that makes him him.

She didn't know how long she had been lost in her thoughts, but she was unquestionably really shocked to hear him again, testifying that he was still here and that he won't give up. Why she's not even surprised? He's definitely stubborn when he wants to, and she also deeply love that part of him. As most as she find his determination heartwarming, her flushed cheeks and her dilated pupils clearly don't want to confront his gaze, not now!

_ "Astrid, I don't want to appear intrusive or anything, but I feel like you was trying to avoid me today... Did I do something wrong? If it's the case, I'm so sorry! You know I'm here for you and that you can tell me anything and... yeah I really hope you're okay after everything you've been through this past few months. I... I miss spending time with you..."

That was it. She couldn't take it anymore. She let hot tears rolling down along her blushing cheeks, trying her best to choke her sobs. She felt so weak, so vulnerable, so fragile at this very moment.

And him, he was so nice to her, so receptive at any move she make, at any tone of voice she use. He was always there for her, exactly like he said, making sure she feels alright, happy and surrounded, offering her all the support she could wish for and even more than that.

And her? What did she do? What did she do to deserve this amount of goodwill and kindness and this unstinting support ? Was she really losing her self-confidence?

She obviously didn't wanted to be an emotional wreck. She had to believe that those horrible nightmares will come to an end with all her might!

Thus, she wiped her tears with determination and decided that the bravest thing that she could do right now was to open the door to him. After all, if there is someone in this world that won't judge anyone, it's him for sure.

_ "Hi Hiccup! Don't you worry, you didn't do anything wrong, like at all! Hum... Well... it's not you that have to apologize... I mean, I don't know where I would be without you... you litteraly saved my life and I can't think of a way to thank you enough, to repay you... I am so sorry, I didn't wanted to hurt you!!!"

And with that confession out of her chest, quiet sobs returned in spite of herself.

Instinctively, he pulled her against his chest, wrapped his arms around her waist and cradled her delicately while drawing gentle circles in the small of her back.

She immediately relaxed and put her head in the crook of his neck, taking the time to breathe his woody scent, which reminds her so much of the forge and all the hours of work he spends inside. Everything became more peaceful and bearable. It was as if this place in the hollow of his arms was meant for her. It felt like home. The precise place where she can be herself, and she was definitely overwhelmed by love right now.

She opened her eyes and dared maintaining his gaze but what she found was no longer determination. It was without a doubt hesitation.

_ "What is it? Are you feeling uncomfortable about this?"

_ "What? No! No, no, no, no, no! It's just... argh!"

_ "It's just what?", she replied, squeezing his hand in order to encourage him to continue.

_ "Forget it, it's not that important anyway", he answered, trying to avoid her gaze.

_ "What happened to you?"

_ "What are you saying?"

_ "We promised to always tell each other the truth!"

_ "Are you telling me that I'm lying to you?! Seriously Astrid?!"

_ "Up to you to convince me otherwise!"

_ "Is it the lack of sleep that makes you say things like that?"

_ "WHAT?? Say that again to see!!!"

_ "I'm just saying that I'm not hiding anything from you Astrid! But what about you, huh? You haven't told me anything lately!"

_ "Okay, well, what do you want to know?!"

_ "I don't know! How are you feeling, why are you avoiding me, how do you manage to make me feel so insecure about our friendship..."

_ "Our friendship? You question our bond?!"

_ "NO! OF COURSE NOT! It's still not my fault if everything you do makes me doubt!"

_ "I don't follow you... doubts about what??"

_ "About us!! I... urgh! I just... I just... let me show you"

Without another word, he crushed his lips againt her own, and both of their hearts skipped a beat. He said he wanted to show her, that's what he will do. He cupped both of her cheeks, leaned a little more and tilted his head a little for having a better angle to take control.

Her lips were so soft, so perfect, so addictive! He felt like he was in heaven. He took the time to memorize every new sensation, every little sigh and moan, exploring every inch of her divine lips who had become in a quarter of a second his favorite place of all time, as if they were meant to be pressed against him own.

Paying attention of any possible sign of reluctance, he definitely felt more alive than ever when she answered fervently, wrapping her arms against his neck, which send shivers along his spine and made him groan of pleasure.

She even intensified the kiss, brushing her lips against his own languorously while mobilizing an infinite tenderness at each new meeting, full of anticipation.

They kissed with passion until they were forced to part to catch their breath, which they did grudgingly.

He scanned her face and found an Astrid grinning from ear to ear, with cheeks flushed red and pupils blacker than ever. As for him, his blissful smile and the soft tingling on his lips were the proof that he only wanted one thing: repeat this delightful moment as many times as she would allow him.

_ "This sounds kinda familiar" she said, her eyes sparkling and focused on his reaction.

_ "I think I'm definitely more comfortable when I directly show you what I mean. Note that this time I didn't throw you on a branch" he admitted with a teasing smile.

_ "I think so too, and I appreciate it, really", she confirmed, letting out a chuckle that made his heart melt instantly. He wished he could hear her laugh on repeat.

_ "I'm so sorry Astrid, I feel so dumb to have waited this long! I was so scared about losing you, I- I..."

_ "Shhh.. that was amazing! You are amazing Hiccup, and if there is someone who must apologize, it's really me! Wanting to repress my feelings was propably the worst idea I ever have! The only thing holding me back was the fear of ruining our friendship, and I would never have forgiven myself if that had happened! But I definitely want to be more for you" she confessed, eyes filled with hope.

_ "And I definitely want you to be your boyfriend, you insomniac", which earned him a light punch in the shoulder, but it was all worth it because what followed made him feel high, as if he was able to touch the sky, and this time, Toothless wasn't there to make fun of him (but he'll catch up eventually).

[legitlaur]

Golden Hour 7 // p.p

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

word count: 1.4k

Summary: Peter finally tells you the truth about everything and you have to decide what to do about your ‘evil’ boyfriend. also this is the last part

master list for golden hour

“My boyfriend is not evil,” you told Peter for the 5th time that day. Running his hands through his hair Peter sighed, “What will it take for you to believe me?” “Evidence.” He wasn’t sure how to get evidence without bringing you on one of his trips to investigate. He couldn’t do that without guaranteeing you wouldn’t get hurt. You saw the confusion in his expressions, “Film it on your phone.”

Nursing his juice box, he nodded, only removing his lips from the plastic yellow straw for a few moments at a time, “I mean. Ok, yeah? That’ll work,” he sipped some more, “I guess.” “I suggest we make a bet if Jonah isn’t evil,” you lifted your index finger in the air, “Which he isn’t by the way. Then you have to take me to a movie and dinner.” “Isn’t that a date?” The potato chips in his mouth muffled his voice. You shook your head, “Not if I have a boyfriend, who isn’t evil.” “Fair point,” he swallowed, “If Jonah is a bad guy then you have to do the rest of the photography project by yourself.” You thought for a moment, really just to add to the moment. “Ok, Parker it's a deal.” You offered your hand, he shook it powerfully. Peter knew he was right, he’d been watching Jonah and his father David long before you and him started dating. Richardson Science and Technology had been supplying drug lords and other misfits, Peter would have to deal with later on. Knowing Tony, he went straight to the source the owner of RST. When you started dating Jonah things changed, Peter had to rethink his approach, then you found out about him being Spiderman. He didn’t want to blindside you so he did the only thing he could think of. Tell you. Putting his mask on Peter swung through the city until he reached RST headquarters. The building was a copy of Stark Industries, but Mr. Stark knew how to put a flare on the exterior of a building, David Richardson did not. The bleak building did have skylights, very beneficial for Spiderman to do some snooping. Using his sticky fingers he lifted the glass and slid into the building, but remained on the ceiling. “I don’t understand.” The sound of Jonah’s voice filled Peter with worry. His father’s deeper voice followed, “You don’t have to understand, this is important and you will do as your told.” “Of course,” his voice was shaky. As Peter listened in on the conversation he pulled out his phone to record. He almost felt like a spy, like he was on a secret mission. Then he remembered he was because he’s Spiderman.   Jonah and his dad pulled some weapons out and continued their discussion, with the solid five minutes of footage, Peter prayed it would be enough to convince you. As much as he wanted you to know, he didn’t want to see you hurt. He almost didn’t want to show you the footage, but he knew he needed too. You received a text from Peter telling you to meet him in the library before school. Your heart sunk, he got footage of Jonah. You got ready slowly, taking more time than normal for everything, even putting on your coat. Once you were out the door you knew it was inevitable, Peter would show you the evidence soon enough. As you walked to the subway you began wondering if Peter had it out for Jonah,  there was a reason why he didn’t like your boyfriend. Afterall he could arrest David, his father and not Jonah, keeping him in your life. As you exited the subway, the reason Peter didn’t like Jonah became apparent. As if on cue you bumped into the curly-haired boy. Before he could say anything you blurted, “Do you like me?” You caught him off guard, “What?” rubbing the back of his neck he kept looking at the ground, “I- wait, what are you talking about?” “Peter,” you ran your hand up and down his arm trying to calm him down, “It’s ok, you can tell me.” His blush moved from his cheeks to the rest of his face, “It doesn’t matter, you’ve got a boyfriend.” Your brow furrowed, “I thought you said he was evil?” His eyes widened, “He is, look” he pulled his phone and handed it to you, “I took this last night.” You held your breath while watching the video, Peter was right. Jonah was selling illegal weapons to bad people. You felt that burning feeling in the back of your throat, the tears would follow, “I-I think I’ll skip first. You go on without me.” Peter took your hand, “No way, look I do like you. That's not why I did this though, but it is why I’m not going to leave you when you’re in this state. Where do you want to go.” Wiping the tears off your cheek, you chuckled, “I knew it.” “Shut up.” “I’m sorry, umm. Can we go somewhere warm?”  You shivered. He nodded, “Come with me.” You weren’t sure what to feel, your best friend had a crush on you, but he was also going to turn in your boyfriend. You would need to break up with Jonah but after his arrest. You didn’t want him to run because he got an idea. Then there was the issue of Peter, you never pinned him for the kind of boy who would have a crush on you. Then again crime fighters and criminals cleary were the only people interested in you. “Come in through here.” Peters's voice brought you back to reality, you noticed how close he had pulled you to him. Looking up you realized you were at Stark Industries, “Peter are we seriously going to work? I know you said you’re busy with your internship and everything, but really?” You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Peter laughed, “Mr. Stark helps me out, he's kind of like my mentor will all this Spiderman stuff. The,” he let go of you to use air quotes, “internship is what I say because I’m always so busy with Spiderman stuff.” “So what are we doing here?” You asked through snuffles. Peter led you to an elevator, “Mr. Stark likes to help me when I call things in, so we gotta go show him the video. But first, we are going to talk in my room.” You stopped asking questions, your head was already spinning. Once you were in the room, Peter sat cross-legged across from you, “Please know that I’ve been watching the Richardsons for months, then when you got involved with him, well things got complicated.” “Especially because I found out you’re Spiderman.” You giggled. Peter's heart sunk, you were the most beautiful girl he knew. Somehow you were managing to laugh and smile through everything. He forced a smile, “Definitely. Things progressed fast, they were dealing with more dangerous criminals and I was trying to find evidence. Mr. Stark likes lots of evidence before calling in the Feds.” He gripped your hands tightly, “I almost didn’t tell you, I didn’t want you to ever find out. But I knew Jonah was going to get arrested sooner or later, and I wanted you to hear it from someone that you care about. Not on the radio or news.” You were crying, but it wasn’t overwhelming tears. You didn’t even know what to say. The trial was finally happening, thanks to Mr. Stark you and Peter were able to go to the courthouse and watch it all first hand. Peter being the precious boyfriend, held your hand the whole time. He was the one that got you in this situation, but he also got you out of it. You were heartbroken for quite some time after finding out your boyfriend was a criminal, but Peter helped you through it all. He explained everything that Jonah had done, the even worse things his father had done. You felt so used and mortified that you were once associated with such a disgusting family. You got closer and his feelings grew as yours were beginning. The trial wasn’t announced until three months after everything happened. Three months of crazy, when Jonah was finally convicted and sentenced to 10-15 years you almost smiled. It wasn’t until his father's sentence: incarceration for life, that you felt at peace.

taglist: @irxnspxder @sassybisquit @laurrenhawker @silver-winter-wolf @jackiehollanderr

a/n: thanks for sticking with me on this fic, it was my first one i posted on tumblr so thats cool. umm yeah sorry if you don’t like the ending I’m not going to lie i kinda rushed it because im just done with the story, but thank you for reading

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “A Vision in a Dream: Chapter 4 - Ramping Up the Possibilities”

Summary: Struggling songwriter Blaine Anderson is trapped in a dull job writing jingles while trying to compose the one song that will help him break into the music business. He's on the verge of giving up when a chance encounter in a local park changes everything ... and nearly gives him a concussion.

Notes: So, yeah, this is the story I wrote for the @klainesummerchallenge 2016. Better late than never. This chapter written for the prompt 'outdoor sporting event'.

Read on AO3.

Blaine skates through the park, gliding leisurely along, the sun setting champagne gold behind him as he contemplates the many conundrums he currently finds himself in. He’d been ecstatic not too long ago talking to Will, full of plans and first steps and bullet points and goals. But now, rolling down the jogging trail through the trees, he feels stuck again – more so than he had before.

And to be honest, he’s getting tired of the frequency in which this happens to him.

When he’d first offered to help Will bring music back to Lima, the man had shot him down, repetitively and sincerely. Will wasn’t looking for Blaine to convince him. As wistful as he was over the prospects of getting the carnival up and running again, the music festival back on, he’d come to terms with losing it a long time ago.

“That’s very generous of you,” he’d said, “but you can’t. It’s impossible. I’ve been trying for years!”

But in contrast, the man’s eyes had shone with so much excitement, so much hope, Blaine continued to insist, swearing up and down that he would do it with or without Will’s help, until the poor, overwhelmed man couldn’t possibly say no.

And he didn’t. Because Blaine had convinced him. Thoroughly. He had faith in Blaine’s conviction.

Hurrah.

With that accomplished, Blaine felt the rest would simply fall into place. It was a done deal in his mind since convincing Will had to be the biggest hurdle to this whole undertaking, right?

Turns out … not exactly.

Actually, not at all.

Because at that point, he hadn’t properly factored Sue Sylvester into the equation. He’d kind of forgotten about her in his zeal to sway Will Schuester, caught up in the moment when he should have taken a few steps back and done his research first, seen if this thing he wanted had any real chance of happening.

Seen why it had been so difficult for Will Schuester when the man had been elbows deep in it for most of his adult life.

There was always the possibility that the woman in question was dead. In that case, dealing with her estate shouldn’t be too difficult. He couldn’t imagine too many lawyers would want to hold on to a dead woman’s grudge for long.

Blaine had had no idea what he was getting himself into.

As soon as Blaine and Will parted ways, Blaine found himself a park bench, pulled out his phone, and started Googling Sue Sylvester. Luckily, information about her wasn’t difficult to find. Articles regarding Sue seemed to fall into two categories – articles written about her by credible journalists, and vanity pieces written by the woman herself. By her own accounts, she was an actress, a model, a TV commentator, and she’d single-handedly put cheerleading on the map.

He couldn’t find any credible sources to back those claims up.

But the non-biased articles he read were damning.

Enough that he seriously considered going straight home, packing his things, and taking the first flight he could to Bali.

The more he researched Sue Sylvester, the more he realized the true extent of Will’s dilemma. Sue wasn’t just a bitter woman with an ax to grind. She was downright vindictive. Slashing tires and filling gas tanks with sugar were the tamest of her many infractions. She’d been known to break into people’s apartments and urinate in their hair products. The high school she’d worked at? She terrorized the children who went there, putting dirt in their lockers and throwing sticks at them for no reason. She forced the girls on her squad to stuff their bras with silicone breast enhancers, then made them pull them out and slap themselves with them when she needed a chuckle. She’d even stolen one poor family’s Christmas tree and presents Seussian Grinch style. How a woman with her track record for petty crimes and child abuse could go on to become a member of Congress …

… actually, that was the only thing about her resume that made any sense.

As far as the carnival was concerned, she hadn’t simply scrapped it, she’d purchased the rights to it – the name, the amphitheater, the land, even the concept. Plus, she didn’t seem to have any weaknesses. That’s not to say that no one had dirt on her – they obviously did. She just didn’t care.

To make matters worse, the woman was still very much alive (evidenced by several recent editorials published in the Lima Gazette regarding defunding PBS because the shows on it could be categorized as ‘hate speech’) so bypassing her and dealing with her estate isn’t an option.

Lawyers can be reasonable. Money and PR can grease a lot of wheels.

Heartless old hags bent on decades of sadistic revenge? Not so much.

If he’s going to get the carnival – and thus, the music festival - up and running again, he’s going to need to convince her.

And this is where Blaine shudders.

Because those articles, and the pictures they paint, have Blaine believing Will is right.

They’ve failed even before they’ve begun.

He loses himself in the run around of that thinking, not even noticing when the sun drops down below the horizon and the street lamps pop on down the trail. Nor does he notice the streak of gold zipping behind him, cutting the course through the trees with a stifled giggle.

It’s long past twilight by the time Blaine reaches the skate ramps at the far end of the park. Though much of the park itself is dim, this end is so flooded with light, it seems like daytime over here. At least a dozen kids are there on skates, boards, and scooters, practicing tricks and showing off for their friends. They congregate mostly at the steeper ramps. Blaine weeds his way through them to reach the flat area his skating instructor told him would be a good place to practice. It’s sunken, accessible by a gentle incline, perfect for beginners, which is probably why it’s empty now, with the more accomplished skaters (every one of them between the ages of eight and fourteen) over on the opposite side.

Blaine steps onto the ramp cautiously. It’s not steep, but he’s sure he could still pick up a decent amount of speed and hurt himself if he’s not too careful. He holds onto the railing as he goes, lowering himself down in sections. But before he reaches the bottom, he’s cut off by a familiar looking man with eyes blue as the sea, and hair that seems to defy gravity, leaving a streak of gold behind him wherever he goes.

Stunned by the man’s sudden appearance, Blaine lets go of the railing. He grabs it again quickly when he rolls a foot down the ramp. “You!”

“Me,” Kurt says, doing a lazy, inside edge spread eagle - a move that, while elegant, also showcases his strong thighs and his tight rear. Blaine does his best not to stare, not just because it would be rude, but because Kurt hasn’t taken his eyes off him, watching him like a hawk with those baby blues that never seem to stop smiling, as if Blaine struggling in rollerblades has become his new favorite form of entertainment.

Even though his cheeks burn from the attention, Blaine braves a bit more speed, managing to get to the bottom and stop without spinning out, flying backwards, and landing on his tailbone … the way he may or may not have done earlier.

“You’re getting better,” Kurt comments. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” Blaine’s voice wobbles, one kind word away from exploding at Kurt’s unexpected praise. “Do you come here often?”

“A-ha. I can practice my skating here.” Kurt transitions smoothly to an outside edge spread eagle, leaning back on his blades, face tilted to the sky, a position which not only shows off his legs again, but something else entirely, and Blaine almost falls without making a single move. “It’s usually pretty empty so no one bothers me.”

“You must live around here,” Blaine proffers, fishing for clues as to where in the world this gorgeous man keeps springing up from.

“Occasionally.”

“Occasionally? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m here today, but who knows about tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Blaine’s heart sinks, thinking that Kurt might disappear tomorrow and he’d never see him again. But as that hasn’t happened yet, he shoves it from his mind. “Why did you kiss me the other day?”

Kurt shrugs. “Because I wanted to. Why? Didn’t you like it?” The next time Blaine sees Kurt’s face, he’s pouting, but not all that convincingly with the smile in his eyes.

“I---I didn’t say that.” A small shock leaps in Blaine’s stomach remembering Kurt’s lips touching his. It doesn’t feel like a simple memory. His lips sizzle as it passes through his brain. “I just … do I know you?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“I don’t think I do.” Blaine starts to glide, following Kurt as he meanders around in lazy eights to continue the conversation. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before, and I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right. And that’s another thing - how come we keep meeting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Out of the blue.”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“It seems like more than just luck to me.”

“You’re right.” Kurt chuckles. “Someone must be setting us up.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you know?” Kurt winks, confusing Blaine until he catches the implication.

“You think … me?”

“Possibly. I mean, you’re always here.”

“True …” Blaine no longer struggles to keep up, skating like a natural since he’s no longer overthinking it “… but I’ve been coming here for ages and I’ve never seen you, so wouldn’t that mean you’re the one setting us up?”

“I guess …” Kurt changes directions, almost colliding into Blaine when he does, frowning playfully when Blaine manages to hop out of the way. “But I think I’d know if I was, so my vote’s still on you. Yup. You’re doing all this.”

“You’re … you’re right.” Blaine follows Kurt as he ventures into an area that’s darker than the rest, shrouded by the shadows thrown by the overhanging lip of the wall blocking the light of the street lamp. He plays along, willing to agree with anything as long as he gets to continue this conversation. “That must mean I want to see you again.”

“Do you?” The farther Kurt goes, the darker their surroundings become, only the brightness of Kurt’s clothes and the glimmer in his eyes visible. “Want to see me again?”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Absolutely. I would love to see you again!”

“Why?”

“I want to get to know you. I find you fascinating.”

“What do I do that fascinates you?”

“Well, for one thing, you don’t stand still long enough for us to have a conversation!” The words fly out of Blaine’s mouth before he has the time to consider whether or not they sound offensive. They do to his ears. And by the way Kurt’s back goes rigid, he can only imagine he thinks so, too. Blaine holds his breath, begging with his brain for Kurt not to skate off in a huff, but he circles back around, eyes pointed thoughtfully toward the sky.

“Hmmm … you may have a point.” Kurt puts one foot behind him, leaning on the edge of his wheels and slowing to a stop. “There. I’ve stopped. Now, what do you want to know?”

“Who are you?” Blaine asks breathlessly.

“I told you. I’m Kurt.”

“Do you have a last name?”

For the first time since they met, the smile in Kurt’s eyes extinguishes slightly. “No. But it wouldn’t make a difference if I did.”

“What do you do?”

“I skate.”

“I mean, for a living?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t?”

“I don’t do anything for a living. The universe pretty much takes care of me. And in turn, I take care of other people.”

“Other people?” Blaine’s brow furrows. “Like who? Are you a nurse or something?”

The amused expression returns full force to Kurt’s face. “Do you need me to fit into some sort of box or something?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“Can I ask you a question, Blaine?”

“Of course! Anything!”

Kurt leans forward till he’s only a breath away. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes!” Blaine answers too quickly, but he can’t take for granted that, for once, Kurt is standing still, has been standing still for a full three minutes so far.

Which makes his chances of getting another kiss good.

“Wow!” Kurt laughs. “You didn’t even have to think about that, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. Because I have been thinking about it. For a while. And anything I can do to make it happen … anything … I will.” Blaine glances at Kurt’s lips, desperate to kiss him, to relive the excitement, the rush from before.

Kurt licks his lips, staring so deeply into Blaine’s eyes, Blaine feels like he’s falling, his feet floating in the air as he dives into the sea that is Kurt’s eyes. But Blaine also sees fire there, traces of that molten light that follows Kurt around everywhere he goes. It swirls and dances, wrapping around Blaine like a lasso and setting him gently back to earth. Kurt pulls back, inching away from Blaine’s untouched lips, and smiles. “That’s good to know,” he whispers. He sidesteps Blaine, and skates away into the shadows.

“Wait!” Blaine shoots out after him, but before he knows it, the world becomes pitch black. Blaine’s eyes scan the dark, hoping against hope that Kurt is hiding somewhere, teasing Blaine some more. But Blaine feels the truth deep within his chest.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Kurt is gone.

[elejah-verse]

Dreams Of Love/2

Fanfiction

Part 2/2

Sidney x Charlotte

Sanditon

🌺

a/n: thank you so much for all your likes and comments, and for reading. 😘❤️

It’s a tad bit of angsty, but a promise of grand HEA!

Part 1 link 

💝💕🌹

The next morning

Sidney woke up rubbing his face evoking the moments of the night before.

Flashback

"Rum!" - Sidney said to the pub landlord.

As the man served him the drink, Sidney looked at it as if it was a demon calling him to go back, take the plunge through the gates of Hell. 

But why? Why embrace the darkness again? A voice in his head, the angelic voice of Charlotte whispered. Because.Sidney muttered in a low voice.

Because what? The voice said. Sidney took a deep mental breath. Because I am a damaged man. I have nothing ti give her, really.

You will give up without even trying? I thought you were a man of strong conviction?!

I was. I am not anymore. She is in fact better off without me. Sidney picked the jug with the rum.

Sidney now got up with a small huff, steadying himself. His head was banging. The rum. Undertow. Once again, you let yourself fall. But why do you believe that you cannot be happy. Why?

The knock at the door, brushed away the struggle in his heavy head.

“Who is it?”

“Tom.”

“Come in.”- Sidney said getting up.

Entering the room and closing the door behind him, Tom looked at his brother with a face laced with pained worry.

“Sidney - what - I do not understand- if Babbington didn’t fetch me last night - what is going on with you? Yesterday, you were full of life. You-”

“I just - it will not happen again. I am sorry if I have embarrassed you. Did Mary - I will apologize to her.”

“She is gravely worried. Just like me.”- Tom said.

“Did - anyone else see me - ?”

“If you are referring to Miss Lambe and Charlotte - No. They were asleep. And we made sure that Joseph and Alice don’t say anything. What has triggered this? Why would you drink yourself to oblivion?”

Sidney gulped a little, looking at his brother with deep regret in his eyes for his behaviour. But he remained silent. 

Tom nodded a little, understanding that Sidney was not ready to talk about it. 

“I am going away.”- Sidney then said-”Can you please send Alice up to help me pack?”

“Right.”- Tom said and now giving his brother another deep look of sadness and worry mixed, went out of the room. 

Clenching his fists, Sidney’s whole being wanted to scream. Flashing back again to the night before.

Flashback

“You should stop, man!”- Lord Babbington now took the bottle of rum from Sidney.

“Give me the drink back!”- Sidney demanded. 

“No. Enough! I do not understand what has brought this on? You said that you and Eliza are done. It is buried. Gone for good?”

“It is not Eliza.”- Sidney said wanting to grab the bottle of his friend and confidante.

“What else then? Who else - could make you relapse so badly?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Give me the rum!”- Sidney demanded.

“I will not. You had enough - Let me take you home.”

“Home? Where exactly?”

“Stop this, Sidney. Did you not talk of settling back here. New dreams of the future.”

“Dreams - future”- Sidney huffed sarcastically in his drunken stupor. 

“Yes, dreams of a new beginning. Dreams of love - Miss Haywood - I didn’t want to mention it - but at the dance in London - I do believe that Miss Haywood has feeling for you -”

“Feelings for me? Oh, Babbington - you could not be further from - huh - she is marrying another man!”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes - I heard her myself. And - I don’t blame her. I would run away from me as fast as I could. Give me that bottle back!”- Sidney now grabbed the bottle off Lord Babbington.

Sidney now splashed his face with the ice cold water. Drying it away, he looked out into the garden where Tom’s children were playing.

I was a ghost Halted and fled Kneeling There of the heart God undertow Feeling

In the dining room, Charlotte stayed behind with Mary. Taking a sip of the tea, she now said-

“I really don’t want to - uhm- but is everything all right? Is Sidn- Mr Parker all right? He is not ill, is he?”

“No. He is just - he caught a cold. If you will excuse me my dear, I have to see to the children.” Mary put a small reassuring smile on and left the room. 

Charlotte sighed a little, dismissing her thoughts that something much worse was in the matter. But her heart could not be convinced and now left the room, to search for answers.

🎩🌂

Some time later

Sidney knocked a little at the door of the drawing room and stepping in he said-

“Miss Haywood”

“Mr Parker”- Charlotte said and stood up.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”- Sidney then said.

“Goodbye? Oh- Mary said that you are - you are leaving? But you said that you will personally overlook the works on the building for the rowing club?”

“I think that Mr Stringer is very capable of completing job and I am sure you will help him with it immensely.”- Sidney said. 

“Me? I don’t- ”

“I - wish you all the best. I hope you will be very happy.”

“Excuse me- I don’t quite understand. Two days ago you were so very excited about the plans and you pledged that you will give Tom, Mr Stringer a hand with the Sanditon development and now you - what? Decided that it is not for you anymore? I thought you cared about us, Tom, Mary, Sanditon?!”- Charlotte breathed in, disappointment and hurt seeping from her eyes.

“I do.”- Sidney now said feeling his heart coming apart, continuing in a slow whisper-”More than you know.”

“So why are you leaving? This doesn’t make sense?”

“Goodbye”- Sidney now said and turned away.

“Coward!”- Charlotte burst out in anger suddenly overwhelming her.

The word hit him like a lightning bolt and he turned around, looking at her wide-eyed.

“What did you call me?”

“I am sorry - but I - I know that there is a lot of work ahead of us and we still don’t have sufficient funds to execute the whole development and it is not going to be easy. I thought that you are a man of your word. A man that does not give up easily. The man, who single-handedly dealt with Georgiana’s kidnappers. The man that I come to admire so greatly. The man I -”

“The man you - ?”

Charlotte swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding violently in her chest, wanting to burst out.

“The man I fell in love with.” - Charlotte stated boldly.

Cut me like a rose Turn me like a beast Hold me on the floor Heavy like the force between us

Sidney gulped in surprise, looking at her now with eyes gleaming softly.

“I thought you - and Stringer - aren’t you engaged to Mr Stringer?”

“What? No!”- Charlotte muttered and then quickly resumed-”Oh - How do you - “

“I - overheard the servants talking - so you are not engaged to Mr Stringer?”

“No.”- Charlotte said.

Sidney now smiled, his heart jumping up with relief, stepping towards her, taking her hands in his.

Charlotte shook her head a bit, now looking at Sidney’s hands gently squeezing them and then at him.

“I fell in love with you, too.”- Sidney now said.

“You’re in love with me, too?”

���Yes. I am in love with you! And - yesterday I wanted to - but then I heard that you were engaged and I -”

“You decided to leave”- Charlotte concluded.

“I could not bear looking you and him together. My heart could not take it.”- Sidney admitted. 

“Oh, Sidney”

“Charlotte - I -” - Sidney started and now knelt down on one knee, still holding her hands in his -”Will you do me the honour of accepting to be my wife?”

“Yes! I will! Yes!”- Charlotte exclaimed smiling broadly. 

Standing up, gazing down in her eyes for a second, Sidney cupped her face gently, and as his lips now captured hers, she felt like she was walking on air. His mouth was warm, the caress of his lips softer than she ever could have imagined. It was magic. Magic that banished all the demons of the past, bringing a light crashing in, never to be broken, sealing all the dreams of love till the end of time.

[zforzarina]

Calling All Cars || Discord Thread

FEATURING: Zarina and Roger ( @rogerhq )

RATING: G

BRIEF SUMMARY: This is what happens after someone in a relationship says “we need to talk”. Also, if you know the song Calling All Cars by Senses Fail, then you probably know where this thread is going.

ZARINA: It had been almost a week since Zarina had had a proper night's sleep. She would toss and turn at night, trying to find that sense of peace and comfort that sleeping next to Roger used to bring her; but even if it was still there and even though she still liked being around him, her joy was markedly overshadowed by the anxiety weighing on her chest. And she hated herself a little bit for feeling that way, because she knew that she loved him and she really, really wanted to be happy. There was just a part of her that wasn't.

She had spent the past couple of days working through how she was going to bring it up and what she was going to say. But even if she was as prepared as she possibly could be, that still didn't stop Zarina from feeling a cocktail of emotions that ranged from nervousness, to guilt, to sorrow, as she walked into the room. "Hey," she started, clearing her throat. "We need to talk."

ROGER: Roger has been at work. He had one of those days where he felt like perhaps things could have gone a little better for him, it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t the best either still haven’t Cruella’s latest encounter replay in his head as he locked up for the night.

He drove a familiar route to a place he knew all too well feeling rather comfortable with just coming into her place like he almost did during the weeks heading into the kitchen to grab a drink in one of his Batman cups heading her voice and hearing the emotions that came with it; “sure-...” though he had an idea this wasn’t going to be a good thing and his anxiety sparked up within him remembering a time when he opened his door to police officers.

ZARINA: There was a part of Zarina who really wanted to back out of her own decision. Who wanted to change her mind, say 'never mind, it's nothing', walk up and kiss him and ask him what he wanted to eat for dinner. The problem wasn't that she didn't love him and that she didn't want to be with him because she knew that she did both of those things. The problem was that she that she had gotten carried away with her emotions, and now that they had been together for a while and settled into a routine with each other, she'd realised that it was all a little bit too much for her. And she was starting to panic about that.

"I want you to know that this isn't because of you," she started, before shaking her head to herself. "Well, it is a little bit because of you, but it's not only because of you. It's because of me too. I... I'm sure there's some girl out there who would love this, all of this, but I'm just... I'm just not like that. I can't... I can't do this. It's too much. It's too fast. I'm not ready."

ROGER: Up until this point Roger had thought that everything was all good. He had gotten himself with Zarina where he went to work, come home - home being her place - and would chill with her but he subconsciously knew that something like this would happen at some point. He didn’t know why, perhaps it was because he was always aware that it was harder for her to deal and process things and that was okay because he had been there. He had been in that place before.

Taking her hands he held them in hers as he looked down for a moment before looking at her “you don’t have to explain babe. I understand. I do and on a personal level because where you are right now is why I broke up with my last girlfriend. I just want you to know that I am going to be okay. Like you don’t have to worry about me okay? I support your decision and your words and if you ever need a friend I will be here for you because even though you need time and space which is completely understandable I still want to have you in my life you know?”

He was going to lie and say that this didn’t affect him because break ups affected every one but the fact that he understood the situation from another point of view made it easier for him to process the emotions and come to term with them understanding that he was going to be okay and that perhaps even though there was going to be a moment where he was sad, it wouldn’t be for long.

ZARINA: Zarina kept her gaze fixed on the floor, not wanting to look up at him to see how he was reacting to her words, but also not wanting him to see the look on her face in case he could sense her determination wavering. She didn't want to hurt him, and there was a part of her that didn't want to give up the safety and comfort that she had found with him. On a good day, when Roger came home and they curled up on the sofa together, she felt mostly content and at peace with her life. On a bad day, and she'd had mostly bad days lately, she felt like the walls were closing in on her because it was all happening too quickly.

"I---I want to explain," she continued, letting him take her hands but still continuing to stare at the floor. "I want you to understand that there's a part of me that wants to want this. Because I love you, and I want to be what you need, and I want this to be what I need, but it just... It's just not. And I don't know why. I wish that I knew why, because then I could explain myself better, but I can't."

Taking a deep breath, Zarina finally looked up at him, trying her best to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes. Sometimes she felt like she had cried more in the time that she had known Roger than she had in the five years before that. But she supposed that that's what happened when someone came in to you life and actually made you feel things. "I want us to be friends too," she agreed, offering him a small, sad smile. "I don't... I don't want to not have you in my life."

ROGER: Roger wasn't completely numb to the situation but right now everything had come to a shock to him because even though he knew to a degree that perhaps this conversation might come up, he didn't think it would be when he had gotten home from work - there was really no easy way to time a break up - and right now all he was doing was trying to a) hold it together for Zarina and b) processing his emotions because even though he did feel sad, he didn't know how to emote it right now.

Roger allowed Zarina to explain herself and it wasn't completely unexpected, he knew her reasons and he understood them to a personal level, she needed to step away for a bit and that was something that people needed from time to time; was he going to miss kissing her, being in her company and having sex with her? Absolutely but did he also want her to get the time she needed and desired? Yes of course.

"Zarina, I want you to know that-... I am not going to stop you, you don't need to explain yourself with me and even though we part ways, you are always going to be someone I am going to forever be in love with. Not just because of the sex but because who you are as a person, I don't think you give yourself enough credit and if this is what you think you need then I want this for you too. I have always been supportive of the things you want and need to do and this isn't going to be any different. The main thing that I want now is for you to be happy not just for me but for yourself too" and he really did mean that.

ZARINA: He was taking it so well and being so understanding, and Zarina couldn't decide whether that made her feel better or worse about it. Probably both. On some level, she felt like it would have been easier to handle if he had gotten upset or argued with her, because then she would have been able to argue back, and that would have given her something different to focus on other than the heaviness in her heart and the tears in her eyes. But now, she found herself overwhelmed by how deeply and profoundly sad she was about all of this. Out of all of her emotions, sadness was the one that she hated experiencing the most.

"I want you to be happy too," she replied, dropping her gaze to their hands as she slowly rubbed her thumb against his skin. "You deserve that. You deserve to be with someone who wants what you want, who can love with the same intensity, and conviction, and commitment that you can. I'm just... I'm just not that person. I'm not like that. I wanted to be, and I tried, I really tried, but I just... I can't. That's not who I am." Honestly, she wasn't sure that she was the kind of person whom happiness was in the cards for at all, but she chose not to voice that thought. It wasn't his problem anymore.

ROGER: On the fore front he was taking it well and inside he was as well probably only for this moment but there would be a time where it hit him and hit him hard and that's when it would all come crushing down, probably on the way home and for several days if not weeks after that but he would be okay and that was the main thing he would need to focus on now because this wasn't the first break up he had gone through but it was the first fresh wound he had since his parents had died so it was about combatting that and making sure he kept himself above water.

"I will be happy, it may not be right away but I will be-... I've always found happiness in the smallest of things and places so you don't need to worry about me" his heart hurt and it was starting to sink in right about now how different things would be with him but he tried to keep it together for her; "I just want you to know - and I respect your opinion on yourself - but you were enough for me, and I feel like even though you did struggle with some things, the intensity of love was never an issue for me but at the same time-... I respect and admire you trying and attempting to make this work and at the end of the day sometimes two people meet and can be together but just aren't suited for each other and that's okay" he was saying that more to soothe himself then her, the more he said it the more he tried to force himself to believe it. "I'm going to be okay Zarina-... I may hurt for a little bit but I will be okay. I promise" trying to give her a tiny smile to reassure her

ZARINA: Zarina couldn't help but wonder if he should respect and admire her for trying. She had known from the start that she didn't do relationships, and she had broken all of her rules for him anyway; because she had been too infatuated with him to care, and too reluctant to hurt him to remember that she had those rules for a reason. If she had just stuck to her guns, they wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. She wouldn't have to stand in front of him in the condo that they had basically shared for the past month and wonder what kind of person would lead someone on the way that she had.

Looking up, she nodded and returned his smile to the best of her ability, letting out a soft laughter as if to break the tension in the room before reaching forward to pull him into a tight embrace. She held him close to her, burying her face against him and focusing all of her energy on not audibly sobbing as the tears finally started rolling down her cheeks, and the reality of the situation started properly sinking in for her. "You're one of the best people I know," she mumbled into him. "You're going to find someone amazing who's going to be perfect for you. I know you will."

ROGER: Roger was saving all of the visions he could by just looking at her face, allowing his eyes to imprint as much of her as he could into his brain before she went away for however long she needed to be - he didn 't know what the future held for them as the future was an every changing and unpredicting force but he had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing her any time soon and that for him was a hard pill to swallow considering he had seen her almost every day for the last couple of months they had dated.

"I may but you will always be at the top of all of my lists-... no matter who I meet, or who I fall for, it's always going to be you who I was, am and forever will be taken by" and he meant that, as his arms wrapped around her waist, chin tucked into that favourite place of his as his eyes filled with salty tears that he really hated were coming to blur his vision right now but it was something he wasn't ashamed of, because emotions were what made a person and created and morphed them into who they were; "I'm gonna get going-...Leave you to your thoughts" pulling apart slowly pressing his lips together needing to get out of there before he fell completely to pieces and make her feel bad for what she had to do.

ZARINA: Zarina didn't want him to pull away yet, and she didn't really want him to leave yet either, but she also knew that she couldn't exactly ask him to stay. She hadn't been through a proper breakup before, but she was relatively certain that asking your ex-boyfriend to keep you company after you broke up with him because you were sad and didn't want to be alone was not the right thing to do. He probably needed his space as much as she did, and she needed to respect that decision as much as he was respecting hers.

"Okay," she replied simply, nodding as she took a step back from him. "I... Uhm, I can drop your stuff off at the store if you want. Or you can come by and pick it up. I don't really mind. It's up to you. Whatever... Whatever works best for you." It felt extremely strange to discuss logistics at a time like this, but it was something that did need to be discussed at some point, and it gave her something concrete to focus on that was not her own emotions.

ROGER: Roger wanted to stay, he really did but he knew that if he did he wouldn't leave and he knew that the longer he stayed there the more he would broke down and that wouldn't be better for either of them. He felt like it was best to leave because then he can grieve in his own company without making those around him suffer any more then he needed too but also because if he stayed-... he would try and change her mind and that would go against everything he just said previously about understanding and supporting

"Sure, I mean whatever if comfortable for you, I personally think it would be best if perhaps I sent Pree or Porter around to collect it - not because I don't want to see you but more because-... if I did-..." he wouldn't be able to control himself and again it would go back on everything and anything that happened today, he just wanted to be able to stay true to what Zarina wanted and had said and seeing the woman he loved when he was ready to break up with her wouldn't be the best for him-... "I'll just send him around" a small smile on his face as he stood up, placing a small kiss on her  cheek.

ZARINA: Zarina nodded, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the fact that she probably wouldn't get to see Roger for a while, even if only briefly to give him his things back. But she knew that he was right, of course. It would probably be better if Pree or Porter came around to get them instead. For second, she contemplated filling in the implication that he left hanging in the air when his words trailed off, but she quickly decided that it would probably be best for both of them if it was left unsaid. There was no need to make this any harder than it had to be.

Closing her eyes, she let him kiss her on the cheek before slowing opening her eyes to look at him again. "Sure, just let me know when he's stopping by and I'll make sure to be here to let him in," she promised, not quite sure what to do with herself now that the conversation was coming to an end and he would be walking out the door any second. "I... Take care of yourself, Roger. I'll see you around."

ROGER: Roger so badly wanted to see Zarina for a million times over after this had occurred but he knew in order to give Zarina what she wanted which was to give them space and to be friends then he needed to distance himself because he couldn't trust himself to not fall back into old routines if he were to see her face again and even if he thought he could get her to do that too, it wouldn't be right of him; he wouldn't be respectful of her wishes and that wasn't the kind of guy he was

"I'll text you-... if that's okay to do so" he didn't think it would be a problem but still Roger was a man of consent and he wanted to at least hear her say it was okay just in the case that she wanted to space them out completely, it was always nice to be asked them just assumed; "I'll see you around too Z, and I just want to say before I go-... even if you don't see me for a little while, it's not because of you-... Okay?" opening the door to look at her one last time before walking out of her apartment, the door closing before he allowed the tears to fall from his eyes onto his cheeks

[dreamercail]

nanowrimo musings 2.0

so like five years ago I did a little nanowrimo retrospective where I talked a little bit about each story I wrote and what I thought about it. I’ve been thinking of doing another one while also avoiding other responsibilities so join me on this walk down memory lane:

PUTTING UNDER CUT CUZ IT’S A LOT OF WORDS WHOOPS

Silicon (2009) - Oh geez, I hate to even count this one, but it was my first ever nano attempt so I gotta. A story about Theresa Lee, a girl who unknowingly is an android (closer to a cyborg?), and the team running the experiment. I don’t even think I made it to 10,000 words. Features: first attempts at an intergenerational friendship and an interesting framing device. I don’t think I’ve opened the file in at least 10 years. This is probably for the better.

Relapse of Vernadora (2010) - my first NaNo win! Originally started off steampunk inspired but I have no idea what the final product was (there were airships?? and that was really it). A story about a half dozen Chosen Ones™️ who represent ~elemental abilities~ and they have to...save the country they’re in?? Because it happens every couple hundred years?? I don’t really know. Featuring: a fun first half of interconnecting stories and dialogue that sounds like bad anime fan fiction. Overall a yikes from me but I still love Chira Chronum as a character and will until I die.

Colossal (2011) - I will always label this one as the most read amongst people I know. It’s a pretty simple story about a group of teenagers who can see giants and have to go on a road trip to stop the guy who’s bringing them back from the dead. Featuring: a literal ripped from tv tropes 5 man band set up and entirely okay if not weak narration. In the end it’s hard for me to go back to and read because I’ve gotten a lot better but I’m still proud of it. Also the five main teens have such a special place in my heart and I’ll probably never be fully done with them. Also I think my only nano with a sequel?? (that took me like six years to write lmao)

Extinction Could be a Lot Worse (2012) - 300 years after global cataclysm, and humans have become a minority, giving rise to insect- and fish-humanoid hybrids known as Entosaps and Aquacrans. Arata is a kid with a guitar looking for one of the last major human settlements on earth. Featuring: half baked concepts, heavy handed and misguided messages about racism, and one actually decent speech at the end. Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh I’ve never felt great about this one. It didn’t take me long after writing it to realize my messaging was super mixed and not as woke as I thought. Also like a few super problematic parts that make me cringe hard. Not the worst thing ever but not one I go back to.

How to be an Urban Legend (2013) - oh thank god the streak of straight protagonists has been broken. A really fun deuteragonist set up! Aliya is a party girl in need of a job. Morse is a down on her luck, awkward girl with a penchant for local urban legends. Each encounter Mackenzie Fylan, an urban legend known as a parsinct, a person who goes through overwhelming tragedy and emerges with supernatural abilities, and chaotic teleporter. Through a series of events the two girls uncover some peculiar goings ons in the basement of their office building. Featuring: a plot where like not a ton happens and a fun chapter naming convention. In the grand scheme of things an entirely okay story. Not a story with a ton of stakes but it marked a turning point in my writing as far as description writing and narration go. Aliya and Morse are an unstable couple, but I think I take a little too much joy in their dysfunction.

Scribed. (2014) - Most famous for not being finished, rip. In a world where writers are assigned particular individuals to “scribe” their lives, Ariel Hess accidentally discovers he’s being written about by the inexperienced scribe, Maiara Snow. It would’ve been a fun kind of breakdown and commentary on the stories we consume and the protagonists we choose to write about but it never quite made it off the ground (partially due to life being a lot that year). Featuring: really not much but some fun with style/formatting.

The Incredibly Consequential Life of Charlie Zappala (2016) - After having to skip 2015, this was a fun one to write. Also, chaotic cuz I dallied the first half of the month then ended up writing like 22k in 6 days. Charlie is a disillusioned 20-something who always thought they were made for something greater until real life came and beat them with a stick. That is, until an interdimensional elf herald pops out of their refrigerator and claims they’re the Chosen One. From there Charlie has to balance the world of their dreams with the world they know and figure out which is really meant for them. Featuring: first nonbinary protagonist and a whole lot of swearing. Charlie as a character is such an outlet for a lot of processing of what it means to be an adult in this day and age. I love them a lot. Of course, in the manic way the story was written the pacing is wonk and needs some work before it’s the best it can be. Also the only nanowrimo (save the unfinished ones) that never got a proper edit.

a.u. (2017) - HEY DID I MENTION THIS ONE WON AN AWARD. I’m sure I have. To go from no one reading my stories to now thousands of folks having checked this one out is A Lot but also probably one of the coolest things to ever happen to me. Damian is a fresh out of college fuck boy, Alexander is a hipster barista. They meet in a coffee shop, we all know what happens then, right? If by that you meant that a mysterious earthquake comes every morning to the coffee shop and leaves the two with the only memories of it happening, then yes, we all know what happens. A story meant to be an exploration of fan fiction tropes and AUs, but also with an underlying message of what it means to find yourself when the world around you is constantly changing (#kidswhomovedalotproblems). Very admittedly nervous that I was gonna come across as fetishizing mlm relationships just by nature exploring the typical “””””BL plot””””” so that’s probably what’s stopped me from out right asking people I know to read it haha. Featuring: boys kissing and some actually damn good analogies that I have yet to replicate. Did I mention it won an award? And currently has 30k reads?? Anyway read it online. No shame.

Road to Arcadia (2018) - Boy does this one have my whole heart. Set in a very nearby future (about 30 years) in a world where we did jack shit about climate change (so like current trajectory), Kai Gilling sets off to the desert to look for something better. On the way he encounters a pair of siblings and a woman who says she has a map to Arcadia, an urban legend rumored to be the only city thriving during these hellish times. Cue: desert road trip story. I’d been wanting to write a desert road trip story for ages and the route the characters follow is nearly identical to one my dad and I took on a road trip the preceding summer, so it all came together. Featuring: a main cast where none of the characters are cis/het and Jeep Wranglers. The letters Kai writes back home have some of my favorite writing and some raw emotion and thoughts from me. It’s not perfect in its execution and it doesn’t have the playfulness that a.u. has, but it’s really special to me. Also available online! (not as many reads tho working on that one)

EXCAVATOR: Tales from the Twelve Vessels (2019) - Probably my first real big step into hardcore sci-fi and another deuteragonist tale. In the future, out in the deep recesses of space, flies the jaundian coalition, a group of twelve spaceships housing orphaned races from across the universe, most notably the sapiens (ya humans) and the nkrey (kinda like a mix between grey aliens and high elves). The story follows Meera, a wide-eyed Idealist looking to work planetside and Sauk, a convicted criminal who would like to do not that. Shenanigans ensue. It’s definitely out of my comfort zone to write something in a world so unfamiliar and it was hard to do a nanowrimo story when half the time needed was for world building. Also still not fully finished to this day. I got the 50k but still have a lot left to write in terms of plot. Featuring: ALIENS and sassy teammates. One that I probably won’t know how to feel about until at least another year or so.

Thanks so much for reading!! And oh man I’m only scraping the surface of a lot of this. If you ever wanna know one thing I could talk forever about it’s my stories and characters.

[clairekatswritingcorner]

As You Wish

Word Count: 1,223

Summary: In the aftermath of a devastating clash, the only thing on either of your minds is to just make it back into one another’s arms.

*Author’s Note*: Another simple Lotor x reader, one I’ve had on the backburner forever lol. Whatever kind of nightmare transpired is up to you, I just wanted to write some sweet angst/comfort because it’s one of my favorite scenarios to work with. Reader is gender neutral (or at least I hope I managed to make things that way) but sorry for the overly sappy dialogue lol, that’s another one of my vices. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Sprinting across the dusty, barren terrain, lungs heaving and legs pumping as hard as they could, you just wanted to reach him. To dive into his embrace, to feel the warm, comforting sensation of his arms around you. When you were with him, you were safe. When you were with him, you were loved. You hoped he knew how much you returned those sentiments, how large of a space he’d come to occupy in your heart. Right now, you were lucky that you were still able to breathe at all, that your limbs responded to your wordless will. Separated by means beyond your control, you hadn’t even known whether or not you’d be able to see him again. But you knew that you wanted to, that you had to. If nothing else, you had to tell him you loved him one last time.

“(Y/n!)” his voice was clear but a little tremored, projected across the short distance you were both trying so desperately to close between you. In a perfect world he would have preferred to have kept you out of harm’s way, to have held you back in his arms before you even had a chance to think about facing anything on your own. He hadn’t been able to prevent you from becoming a target, to save you from being forced into the midst of yet another of his petty squabbles. He considered most of them to be so trivial, so mundane, but if something happened to threaten your life and wellbeing, there was nothing insignificant about it.

Diving into his arms, he cradled you close without a second thought. Limbs locking around you like unbreakable chains, he relished in the sensation of your weight against him, the relief of your presence finally being reunited with his own. He kissed your head and squeezed your torso and uttered fragments of apologies and thanks into your hair. He was trembling slightly, and you felt yourself start to take after his involuntary reaction. The reality of the situation you’d just managed to escape washing over you, the wave of overwhelming emotions that you’d just barely been keeping at bay was almost enough to drown you. Fittingly enough, you felt tears start to bud in the corners of your eyes, and valiantly fought to hold yourself together just a bit longer.

There’s no point in upsetting him more. You didn’t want to do that, no, now wasn’t the time to make things worse. On the contrary, you were safe and sound and reunited; the two of you should have been celebrating, relieved, reveling in your triumph. It appeared that Lotor wasn’t interested in trying to keep up fake pretenses, though; the gentle trickle of a tear across your skin caught your attention. You knew it wasn’t one of your own, so that could only mean—

“Hey, why are you crying?” You pulled back as much as you could, craning your neck to get a clearer view of his face. “It’s okay now, really. I’m okay now. Are you hurt, did something else happen?”

“I’m sorry.” His broken whisper was enough to shatter your heart, and you weren’t sure how you were still managing to hang on to your composure. “I’m sorry for all of this. For not being able to stop it, not being able to do something sooner—”

“You did enough,” your own voice was a tad unstable, fingers curling against the back of his battered armor. “You did more than enough; you came for me. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. I just want to…stay here with you a little longer. And I never want to get separated from you like that again.”

One or two more tears escaped his eyes, staining his cheeks with glistening trails that you may have found beautiful if you had the opportunity to admire them out of context. But they were the product of his pain, the result of a feeling of failure and remorse that made your heart twist and flip with sympathy. His expression was fixed in a melancholy daze, and you knew you never wanted to see such a sad sight grace his features ever again. Bowing your head, you nestled closer to him, somehow managing to cling to him even tighter than before. Maybe if he could just feel you that much more, if he could shift his focus to you that much more, he could finally be spared the punishment of having to endure any more of this self-imposed suffering.  

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” This time his words were even harder to make out, but your proximity just barely enabled you to comprehend them. “You don’t know how much you mean to me. No matter how many times I tell you, or what I do to show it, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make you truly understand the depth of my love for you.”

“Listen to you, sounding all tortured and dramatic,” you tried to make your tone as lighthearted as possible, but it was apparently impossible to remove every trace of uncertainty. “There’s nothing you need to worry about. Nothing else you need to lament. I’m here now, I’m right in front of you, safe in your arms. I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want me here, I’ll do whatever it takes to stay.”

“You shouldn’t have to do anything,” Lotor rebuffed, tightening his hold on you once again. “I don’t want my love to be a burden, something you have to actively fight for—”

“It’s not,” your sharp words cut the air as you wrangled the conviction to put your foot down. He could hear the shakiness in your voice, falling silent until you were finished. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen all the time; it was a fluke. I’m going to do my best to make sure it never happens again. And you’re not a burden. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You’ve given me a new life, a life I can look forward to, a life that I love…but there’s nothing I love about it more than getting to be with you. Getting to love you. So please, just for right now, that’s all I want to do.”

A heaviness hung in the silence your impassioned speech left behind, and you had a suspicion that it was because he wanted to say more. How much longer did he want to argue his case, when was he going to take the hint that your mind wasn’t going to be swayed? He exhaled long and deep, and you took it as a sign that you could finally relax. You’d disarmed him, it seemed, or at least that’s what you hoped. You were tired, and he must have been, too…it’d been a busy day, the kind of day neither of you wanted to have to face again.

“As you wish.” Tender words nested in your ears, and a warmth flickered in your chest like a delicate flame. Maybe now things would finally start to improve. Maybe now the two of you could put all this unpleasantness behind you, if only just for the rest of the day. Either way, you’d be facing tomorrow together, so you’d be prepared no matter what came to be.

[a-book-dragon]

A Valvert fic

Ok.. This piece was quite hard. Please, I BEG YOU, don’t judge my style, English is not my native language though  I try to improve every day by reading other people’s works. I write a lot better in my own, Bulgarian.

This is a Post-Seine fic; the characters areValjean, Javert, Cosette and Marius. I label it as fix-fic, a little fluff, a little hurt and comfort, much shipping.

There is no explicit violence or sex here. Only a kissing scene (my first one, wohoo!). So I would rate it “teen and up”.

It’s also the first gay relationship I’ve written (yay for awkward, hot, virgin, probably asexual, but defintely romantic old gay dudes!).

"He isn´t here... how strange", Jean Valjean thought to himself. He quickly got out, just in time to see a shadow disappear behind the corner. The man followed it carefully. He was dirty, exhausted and overwhelmed of all the emotions and dangers of the day, but he suspected that Javert was going to call reinforcements, arrest him and probably attack his home. He didn't care about himself, but Cosette, Toussaint and the rest of the inhabitants were also there. And he knew what Javert was capable of to fulfill the law.

Jean followed him to the bridge. There the other man stared in the river for a long time, entered the police office, went out again (alone, thanks God)! After staring in the river again, Javert suddenly stepped on the guardrail and jumped.

Jean Valjean was puzzled and shocked. But without hesitation, he ran under the bridge. If he jumped right from it, he would collapse hitting in the cold water. The man took off his coat and shoes and dove into the river. In the first moment he felt like all his blood vessels, muscles and bones were frozen. His heart started pumping and he had trouble breathing even before gulping water. It was a torture for his body to hold his head above the lightning-fast waves, let alone save another person.

When he had almost lost hope, Valjean noticed a big black thing (Javert!), grabbed him by the hand, summoned all of his strength and pulled him out of the whirlpool that was about to suck him in the deep. Luckily, he was near the other side of the river and in a desperate attempt caught at a stone of the bridge and climbed on hard ground, dragging the body of Javert. For a long moment, Valjean was just sitting there, coughing loads of water and thanking God, just like he had done earlier this long, long night.

It took him some time to remember that he had a dying man next to him and hurried to do CPR and loosen his clothes. Javert was still alive and breating, so Jean put his own coat on him, lifted him and headed home. All the hospitals were closed at the time, so he decided to bring him to his home. He also had to decide how to explain Cosette the unfortunate event.

"Cosette... I have no choice, I'll reunite her with that guy, Marius. I hope she won't forget me, a miserable man, whom she calls Father without him deserving it...".

These sad thoughts were interrupted by something even more depressing - the weight of the unconscious Javert and his own body, which already refused to function. Gosh, was he tired of carrying fainted guys around. The night wind was biting him, as he was soaked with water. Gladly, they were at the front door of his home. After stumbling against the door, forgetting to open it in the first moment, Valjean brought the body upstairs, entered his apartament silently and put Javert on his bed. He changed him in his own old clothes and put all the blankets he found over him. Then he made a big fire in the fireplace and moved the bed near it.

All of a sudden, he started trembling uncontrollably and collapsed on the ground, almost unconscious. He could only pull the carpet and wrap himself with it before he fell in a dreamless sleep.

…

- Papa! PAPA! - Cosette woke him up, banging on the door.

Gosh. He needed several seconds to remove the carpet, get off the floor (what was he doing there?) and hurry to open the door.

- Cosette, don't enter! - he shouted, got out and slammed it.

- Papa, you never oversleep and always look preppy - the girl, stylish even in her everyday dress, looked critically at the creased and still wet clothes her dad had slept in. – What’s up?

- Umm honey, I had lots of work to do and fell asleep in my chair. And my room is a mess...

- Shall I call Toussaint?

- No, no, I'll sort it out. – the old man cringed. – Isn't it time for you two to do the groceries? By the way, I assure you Marius is now safe in his home, though he has a serious injury. He will be very thankful if you sew some bandage for him.

- Oh yes! Can’t wait to help Marius! First gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, dear monsieur!

He smiled. He used to call her "dear mademoiselle" when she was young to boost her confidence when the girls in the convent bullied her for being ugly. He never understood them. His daughter was the most beautiful girl in the world!

"I'm really getting old, I shouldn't get lost in memories", when Valjean made sure the women were gone, he returned to his room. He was glad to see that Javert was better and his breathing and heartbeat were back to normal. Jean removed all the sharp objects from his sight (the man had tried to commit suicide, after all).

…

Javert opened his eyes while the other man was sitting on his chair with a book to fill his time waiting for him to wake up.

- What? Where am I? - he looked around in confusion.

Valjean peered above the book.

- Ah, at last! You are awake. Do you need anything?

- AAAARGHHHHHHH! - Javert tried to escape, but fell onto the floor, groaning in pain. He lifted his eyes, full of more hate than fear. - JEAN VALJEAN! I only wanted to die, but you´re here to torture me again!

- Stop. - Valjean said firmly, forcing him to go back to bed. - You will hurt yourself.

- Why would you even care - Javert hummed, letting Valjean put him in bed because he had no strength to do anything else. - In your eyes, I shall be a criminal. Like you were in mine.

- Were... well, I'm happy you won't arrest me. – Jean replied with a grin. – And whatever you’ve done, you’re a human in trouble. Isn't it enough? I was actually ready to get arrested. It was your right.

- First, I’m not a “human in trouble”. I am – was – completely capable, it was you who were creating me trouble. Second, stop pretending to be so freaking pure and shaming my own selfish ass! I refuse to talk to a weird person like you. Just give me a knife, ok? Or better, a gun.

- I have a better idea. – Valjean rolled his eyes. – Going to prepare some tea and food. Then I’ll decide what to do with you and how to explain Cosette everything.

- Just throw me in the river, where you took me from.

- I don’t think to do that. All lives are important and no matter if you see the meaning of yours, it has one. God has created humans like that.

- Except your life, right? You threw yourself in a river for a person who WANTED to die, you fake righteous shit with no self-respect!

Javert had no idea what he was saying - he had seen Jean doing lots of crazy and risky things, but he never could've known how the former convict’s memory always turned back to the person he was once. Back then, he was ready to kill, rape, steal, hurt, lie... And what he did was unforgivable. He totally deserved rotting in jail, but he would be more useful raising Cosette, helping the poor and saving people's lives. He hoped to wash away his crimes that way. But he knew he never could.

- You have no answer, your “morals” are so shallow!- Javert turned to the other side.

“Said the one who attempted to end his life because his value system failed him”, Valjean did his best to keep this to himself.

- Oh, I'm such an idiot! The food! – he facepalmed instead, ran to the kitchen and quickly prepared some sandwiches and tea. Brought them to Javert who reluctantly accepted to eat a bit.

Just after that Cosette and Toussaint returned with grocery baskets.

- Umm… I have to tell you what happened last night - Jean said to them after opening the door. – I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk. Then I saw a man in the river, near its side – he had probably fallen of some bridge. I took him here, he’s in my room and will probably stay there for some time before I take him to the hospital. Any objections?

- Of course not, papa! – Cosette smiled. – It’s great that you helped a person!

- He saved me – the girl jumped out of fright, hearing a hoarse voice. – This bastard risked his miserable life to take me out of the river.

Cosette, outraged (in the convent where she had grown saying words like “bastard” was a major sin), stormed into Valjean’s room where Javert was lying.

- How dare you insult my father? If what you’re saying is true, you better be thankful! He has always deserved better than he received, don’t make things worse!

- Young lady, you make me want to end my life even more – Javert rolled his eyes. – Could you please shut up and go play with your dolls?

- Javert, stop. – Valjean interfered, hiding his clenched fists in the pockets of his coat. – My daughter Cosette just loves me too much, she has done you no wrong.

- What an amusing couple are you two! I just have to insult one of you in front of the other and see when I’ll get killed.

- Well, you’re also much more amusing after “falling” in a river. You probably discovered your sense of humor there – Valjean knew this was passive-aggressive, but when it was about Cosette…

- Do you know each other from before? – the girl raised her eyebrow in suspicion.

- We were… coworkers once – this wasn’t a lie, right? When he was Monsieur Madeleine, Javert was his subordinate.

- Whatever, losers. Just let me sleep now. – Javert, who already didn’t care about his pride, image, laws and even life, now had let all his anger and frustration out in the form of sarcasm. Or at least Jean Valjean thought so.

- Geez, papa. I would punch this man, if he wasn’t sick.

- Annoying coworkers, they are everywhere – Jean shrugged.

- By the way, I’m going to prepare some bandage for Marius!

- I’m happy… You will see him soon – her dad had many feelings thinking of this particular moment, but happiness wasn’t one of them.

- Ok, see you at breakfast! – The teenager stormed to her room.

Jean used his time to call a doctor, who took Javert to the hospital. No more sarcasm! But at times he checked how the other man was going, despite of being physically and emotionally busy around Cosette and the wedding preparation.

SOME MONTHS LATER...

Jean Valjean turned back home, sat in his chair and desperatelly covered his face with hands. He wanted to cry, but had no more tears left. Every sign for Marius that he shall leave them alone, every "Mr. Jean" from his dear child Cosette, every refusal for any affection from him... it was killing him. He was doing it to himself, he knew. But who needed him, an old criminal, anymore? He had done his job. And deserved nothing else.

He felt an almost physical pain. The end was near... Then he heard loud banging on the door.

- Enter! - Valjean said.

And they entered. First - Cosette, then - Marius (both handcuffed) and lastly - Javert!

- What is the meaning of that? - Valjean felt as if he was dreaming.

- Papa! - Cosette started jumping around him like a girl. That long-forgotten word soothed the wounds of the old man's soul - You know what happened? Inspector Javert helped us research who had saved him, interrogated my terrible "keeper" Thénardier and all the evidences point to you! Now, inspector, can you remove the handcuffs so I can hug my father?

Javert did it with something that looked like a slight smile. Cosette didn’t seem to hate him anymore.

- Accept my apologies. You're a hero, Mr. Valjean - Marius was all red. – If only I could repay you…

- No problems! You're like my own son - Valjean said sincerely and tears filled his eyes. He was overwhelmed by emotion and unable for stopping them running down his cheeks.

- Oh, Papa! So glad we learned it now! - Cosette noticed them and hugged him. - Sorry for causing you so much pain! You stupid man! You should have told us the whole truth!

- One more month without you would kill him – Marius agreed.

- In reality, he caused the pain to himself, right? - Javert, who was just watching the scene up to now, interrupted them. – This is dumb, because “All lives are important. No matter if you see the meaning of yours, it has one.”

- You're right. I shall forget the past. Thank you, thank you very much! - Valjean stood up and shook Javert’s hand so tightly that he almost broke it.

- No porblems... friend - this word was new for Javert and he stumbled a little. He left the happy family in the room with a little smirk on his face. His first happy smile from years.

2 MONTHS LATER…

In the next 2 months, Javert had been visiting their house so often that he became a part of the family. A quiet and strict part, but still a part. Him and Jean Valjean had long conversations about politics, sociology, economy and law. For Valjean’s surprise, non-fanatic and non-suicidal Javert was a trustworthy and interesting person.

As for Cosette and Marius, they were still living their love bliss and were adorable in their naivety. The old men were often joking about them – good-intentionally, of course.

One evening, when everybody else was sleeping, they were sitting on the balcony, snacking on fruits, wine (and, of course, bread) and having a conversation about the smallest details of their past.

- Amongst the criminals, I was constantly beaten, because they hated my attitude. Once I scolded them to the police and then couldn’t move one week – Javert gulped a big mouthful of wine. – And the decent citizens never paid attention to me, for them I was no more important than a stray dog.

- Sounds terrible – Valjean shook his head and tapped Javert’s shoulder.

- Sorry, you don’t have to listen to my self – pity. I think I’m drunk…

- But you just drank one glass – Jean laughed.

- I have never drank. Probably once… I don’t remember. And what about you, Mr. Righteous? – Javert laughed hoarsely.

- I had to drink all the winters in prison, otherwise I would freeze.

- Really sorry for causing this to you…

- No problems. Now it’s time for you to go home.

- You’re right – Javert lifted himself from the chair, but staggered and convulsively caught to his friend’s collar to not fall on the ground. His breath stopped. Jean looked surprised – but not unpleasantly.

Heat raised to Javert’s head. He leaned forward until their faces were centimeters close. Jean Valjean was blushing hard and his heartbeat could be heard from a meter away. He hesitantly lifted his hand and ran his fingertips up to Javert´s neck. His hand was fiery hot, but it sent shivers down the other man´s spine. Then Valjean stood on his toes, being too short to do otherwise, and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Javert was hanging there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, grasping for air. Suddenly he grabbed a handful of Jean´s hair and pulled him into a passionate, devouring kiss.

The men didn´t realize how their hands twitched together.

A/N –  Though society back then wasn’t tolerant to LGBT people, it was no problem for Jean Valjean and Javert, because they acted like friends or soulmates, loving and respecting each other most of the time, as most old, long-married happy couples do. Their time for mad, perfect love had already passed. Though Cosette suspected something, she just nodded and smiled, happy for her father.

[therealangelicaschuyler-blog]

Why I perform

I have some pretty heavy things to get off my chest. This is long, and I don’t know if anyone will read this or care, but it’s something I need to say, so please bear with me.

It’s been two months since I’ve been in a show, six months since I’ve been in a show that made me happy, and over a year since I’ve been in a show that made me feel completely fulfilled.

I’m in the fall of my senior year of high school. I’m at a significant crossroads in my life, a time when I finally have the opportunity to make decisions for the career I want to have and the life I want to live. I’ve been preparing for years, getting ready to run while being confined to a crawl. So why is it that now, as the race is about to begin, I feel paralyzed?

Maybe part of it is that unlike before, I no longer know which direction to run in. Until about six months ago, I knew which college I wanted to attend and the exact steps I would have to take. Then, I experienced an identity crisis like nothing I’d ever felt before. I awakened, in a sense, to a feeling like the world I’d been raised in was a lie. I lost faith in the religion that my self-image, my worldview, my entire future had been predicated upon.

While this finally allowed me to escape from my psychological restraints and opened up a whole world of possibilities, it took away every source of comfort and stability I had to rely on: the support of my family, trust in the path I was on, and my entire sense of self-worth. The understanding that those things were all an illusion anyway, that I have found the truth, doesn’t take away from the overwhelming sense of loneliness, depression, worthlessness. It doesn’t make me feel any less lost.

So, with the foundation of my entire identity stripped away, I’m forced to sort through the rubble and search for a place to begin. Luckily for me, I still have something I can count on: I love theatre, and I love storytelling. It’s who I am. If you were to look at my soul, you’d see all the stories that have spoken to me in the past. That’s what initially brought me to the conclusion that acting was my calling in life, that I wanted to pursue musical theatre in college and beyond.

However, without the spiritual conviction I once had that everything would fall into place, I now find myself paralyzed with fear and self-doubt. I look at my limited experiences with theatre and wonder if I’ll ever be good enough to make a career doing what I love, when few directors have ever seen any real potential in me. I fear that in the professional world, I’d just fade into obscurity. Worst of all, as my current depressive episode and overwhelming anxiety keep me from sending in my college applications, I wonder if I’ll ever be strong enough to do what it takes to succeed, or if my mental illness will render me forever incapable of following through.

As my future suddenly seems so unclear, I’m faced with doubts that I should still pursue theatre. Ultimately, it is still my dream. There’s little else I can imagine ever making me happy. I still notice how empty and unbalanced my life feels when I’m not actively engaged in theatre. However, I’m suddenly swarmed by fears of a life worse than one of mere complacency, unhappiness, lack of artistic fulfillment. I fear remaining forever dependent on others. I fear forever feeling like maybe if I just worked harder and gave more, then I would finally be enough—as past directors have made me feel. But the absolute worst, deepest, most horrifying fear that pervades me is that perhaps I don’t have anything special to offer. That as much as I love and need theatre, it has no need for me. That no director will ever see anything in me and give me a chance to show the world, because maybe there’s just nothing to see.

Tonight, as I was contemplating this fear, I was revisiting my past experiences with theatre. I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of the ensemble in many shows with different schools and community groups. I’ve competed in thespian conferences and received high marks. I’ve even performed in the pilot amateur production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame at the International Thespian Festival as a member of the ensemble, an experience that I’ll never forget. However, there’s still never been anything that sets me apart from the crowd as a performer. In the professional world, where everyone in the audition room is talented enough to do the job well, actors have to have something special to set them apart, or they’ll remain unemployed.

While desperately scouring my memories for any indication that my fears aren’t right, I remembered an experience I had at a two-week theatre camp last summer. That camp was perhaps one of the harshest experiences I’ve ever had with how it tore down my self-confidence, for many reasons. It was my first time working with college professors on a production—at the school I had long thought I wanted to go to—and I was disheartened by how little any of them noticed me. In the production and all throughout camp, I never got any chance to show them what I was capable of.

But one night at camp, there was a talent show. None of the directors or anyone influential were there—just the campers and counselors—and I was feeling pretty disheartened at camp, but I decided to enter it anyway. I chose to perform “With You” from Ghost, a heart-wrenching song in which Molly grieves Sam’s death. I was nervous because it’s a hard song to act, but I was desperate to prove to myself that I had what it takes. So, when the time came, I got up in front of my peers, and I bared my heart and soul to them. I pulled on my own past experiences and let go of all the insecurity and hurt I had been feeling. For three minutes, I became Molly and poured everything I had into telling her story.

When the audience stood up and applauded, I dragged my emotional walls back up. I simulaneously felt proud of my performance and too emotionally drained to be happy about it. After the show, I thanked everyone who complimented me and told me that I made them cry. I guess it’s a mark of success if an actor can make an audience feel that deeply, but I still felt hollow as my friends gushed about how “amazing” I was.

Later that night, however, as one of my roommates was giving me her glowing review, I burst into tears I hadn’t thought I had left. This girl had seemed so bubbly and friendly and outgoing, and in my current state of depression and low self-esteem, I had initially misjudged her as fake, something extremely off-putting to someone like me who prizes authenticity. But after a very technical analysis of my performance, she choked up and gushed that it was like I had reached into my chest, tore out my heart, and held it out for everyone to see, demanding that they watch it bleed and pulse and begging them to accept it as is. She expressed admiration and envy that I had the ability to be so raw, so unashamed to show everyone my scars, so unafraid to wear my heart on my sleeve and give everyone the chance to break it.

With nothing left to cling to, I’m grateful once again to her kind words for reminding me that I have something worth seeing, even if it seems to be buried deep within, even if no one can see it at the time. I’ll now move forward with the understanding that yes, maybe I’ll never get the chance to share it...but knowing that it’s there is motivation enough for me to keep trying.

Because I don’t want to be emotionally distant and jaded. I want to be the kind of person that wears her heart on her sleeve. I want to be an example to the world that being broken can be beautiful. I want to use my talents to make someone feel like it’s okay not to be okay and not to hide your pain from the world.

I want to love myself and inspire others to do the same.

[astorytellerforthatgirl]

Who is Maine Mendoza for this Storyteller?

Maine is just a simple celebrity for me as I watched her first in July of 2015. Few months after that, I started venturing in my inconsistent freelance career. I’m a home-based content writer submitting my outputs through email or uploading in a Wordpress admin account. I’ll make sure at 12:00, I have to watch Eat Bulaga to have a glimpse of her. As the days passed by, I just find myself laughing and smiling at the slapstick comedy and funny antics of her silent character relying on Dubsmash.

I did not know it was a point of no return of my fangirling on Maine.

Being in a fandom is not new to me. I was an active UAAP vball fan before to the point I would even watch highschool vball games to know who are the prized bluechip recruits all UAAP teams want to have in their program. I made my Twitter account almost a decade ago to follow the Gosiengfiao sisters (Alodia and Ashley) to interact with them via tweets. Also, through Twitter and other socmed sites, I got to be in a fangroup of Pinay American Idol finalist Thia Megia and saw her in person. Through social media too, I met other fans of our Olympian Yan Lariba and met her in a friendly encounter.

I know the good side and also the bad side of fangirling. I’ve been into useless arguments with online trolls and I admit their words get to me…until I just learned to be indifferent and not mind it at all. Then here comes Maine. I was hesitant to be a vocal fan because of her immense popularity but again she just have that “something” in her that I want to root for.

I started profiling Maine like how I used to in the other celebrities I look up to her public accounts like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Ask.fm and lastly her blog….

MAY BLOG SI MAINE!!!

MGA KAPITBAHAY MAY BLOG SI MAINE!!!

Yes, I was surprised to know she has a blog!! My writer heart is leaping with joy!! That was the conviction I told myself it would be easier to fangirl for her since writing is my core and passion.

I started following her and knowing more about her like how she is close to her family, the rumors she went to PBB Auditions, and her other past Youtube uploaded videos. But I was still a silent fan back then since I am clueless how to handle a barrage of comments from other fans once I begin to be vocal. I am happy as a silent fan until the inevitable thing happened…

Maine released her Open Letter in November 26, 2017.

Yes, I won’t forget how I cried after reading it and not enjoying the ice cream I am eating on a Sunday afternoon. I began to connect the dots. I wanted to hate some people and wish them to have double, triple the pains of whatever Maine felt. I do want to start expressing my support for her to prove there are still like me…”isa sa sampu” fans of Maine.

The problem though is I am still at a down moment by that time. I failed to handle the pressure of a teaching career. I love the kids inside the classroom but the paperworks overwhelmed me. Attendance, quizzes, understanding the lesson plan, submitting other requirement, etc---those did not fare good for me. I just realized I only want to be with the kids even if I am with them 6-7 hours straight, I don’t get tired at all. I found out I like to be a public speaker but I cannot cope up with the tremendous responsibilities of the teacher.

Being an overthinker, I felt I failed again not myself but my family and everyone who believed in me. I was down for months and clueless what to do next. I even think if there would still be a company or business owner who would take risk with me seeing my resume with months of no work as I rested after resigning from the teaching post.

I thought of how I am a burden again and have no direction in my career, whereas my batchmates might already be settling down with their partners, finishing their master’s degree, or exploring more of what they can do abroad. There I was, clueless and do not know again where to start. I am just thankful I have a supportive family and set of friends who waited until I got tired of being afraid and overthinking.

There were even days I wish I can just sleep forever and not wake up to those clueless and empty days again. I was also telling God that time I wish I was the one He took instead of my papa who passed away in 2007 due to an illness. Because my papa would be able to help my family instead of my inconsistency, fears, and overthinking. I was in that bargaining stage and I am too blinded, hurt, and tired to see my own worth and potential.

In those dark times, I would pray for a direction…for an enlightenment. Angels in the form of my friends and my family gave me words to fight back. It was enough to hold on….until I saw an excerpt from Maine’s book through an online article of cosmo.ph promoting her book:

“Things may go from bad to worse and you might feel like it’s never going to change, but believe me when I say it will get better. Everything will be all right, I promise you. We may have our own different battles, but remember there is only one God. He is always looking down on us wherever we go and whatever obstacle we face. You may currently be in a lot of pain, but you never know what God has in store for your future.

Marami pang magagandang bagay ang mangyayari sa buhay mo. Magtiwala ka. Kapit lang, laban lang.

P.S.  If you are looking for a sign on whether you should still hold on or give up, this is it. Hold on tight, my dear. Don't you ever give up; never ever give up. “

I cried and smiled after reading it. “Ikaw talaga Lord ha, si Maine pa pinadala Mo rin para sabihin kaya ko pa.” The darker those moments are for me, the brighter are all the Bearers of Light shone in my life. I begin to see more how my mama is patient with me, how my brothers would ask what do I want to eat or where do I want to go, friends who would tell me they will meet me anywhere I wish to be…and that excerpt from Maine’s book.

So I told myself: May laban pa ako. Isang subok pa.

It took me until January to gather all my guts. I started editing my resume. I came back to my freelancing career by looking for homebased jobs. It was also the time I just thought of blogging for Maine. I was still doubting if I am ready to be a vocal fan…but I know in my heart if God is telling me to do something even if I am still scared or doubtful of it.

I posted my first entry about Maine on this tumblr account. What comes next are series of unexpected blessings coming in my way…I did not look for them but the opportunities found me instead. Here are some of them:

(a)    Got a DM asking if I can write for Clairedelfinmedia.com after they read my blog about Maine and Nadine parallelisms

(b)   Got invited twice to Maine’s bday party by generous fans. First is when I told her she is a Bearer of Light and we are her 10th heartbeat in the #EnchantressMaine23. Second is when I co-host in the #DearMaine bday event.

(c)    An anonymous fan who works abroad gifted me a Microsoft Surface Tablet just because she is thankful for my support for Maine.

(d)   Meeting some fans who are as level-headed and as classy like Maine I felt I attended a business conference instead of a fan event.

(e)   Getting back on my feet again to find the direction in my career.

Also, I am grateful my mama is a silent fan of Maine. You see, I am already in my late 20s but she treats me like a pre-teen kid and I find it difficult to ask permission to go to different places and stay late. Kung pwede 6pm sa bahay na ako at may number si mama ng lahat ng kasama ko para mapanatag siya. So I was surprised it was easy for me to ask permission going to Maine’s bday event even if I come home late at evening. As my mama said, “May swerteng dala sayo si Maine, puntahan mo lang pag meron.”

Of course, going back to my freelance career is not as smooth as what I expected. Rejections and no follow-up interviews came, some would even ask me to stop writing for them and they would just pay me for the weeks I wrote, or I have already written an article then suddenly my contact person said the client forgot to ask for the specific writer and that isn’t me.  

It was still difficult but I am grateful to find this new courage, thanks to God’s constant faithfulness in my life and to all my Bearers of Light. In 2018 too, I found CCF, a Christian church whom I am comfortable with in sharing my flaws and mistakes. They focus more on God’s grace, justice, and mercy for everyone than other close-minded religious people or groups who condemn sinners.

Thanks to Maine too, I started to try new things which I still hesitated before. I remembered reading her IG post on her skydiving experience. She encouraged us to try things out even if we are still scared. In 2018, I tried acting workshop and auditioned in a production house for a voice-over artist. I even tried if I could be a female reporter in an FM station. Although these things haven’t yet prospered for me, I am happy to try it out and see what else I can try aside from writing.

At present, I invested in a copywriting module and joined an uplifting and supportive Filipino community of freelance copywriters in a Facebook group. I am determined to venture into copywriting because it is parallel to my passion in storytelling and writing. The process of improving myself excites me.  I am a homebased content writer (as of this time) who still have a lowpay rate but I am enjoying the flexibility of my time. Plus, the company I work for recently gave me incentives and gift certificates.

Going back to one of the dark times in my life and just want to give up, God sent His angels in different forms to remind me I still have to fulfill His purpose, His story, and His plans in my life. He intended to break my heart and dreams so He can form it with a new one. In those times, God chose Maine too to tell me I can and I will be able to do it with God’s help.

This is just a fraction of what Maine did for me. I am more than thankful and will always support her even in the future that she is a private citizen and enjoys that under-the-radar life away from the fame and attention of public.

Salamat talaga Maine sa lahat lahat! 

Bearer of Light, please keep on radiating! 

God rewarded your sacrifices and good heart.

Embrace the genuine happiness you have now.