#ive been taking lessons for almost 2 years now

[justgleekout]

I JUST PASSED MY DRIVING TEST!!!!

Watch out world!! 🚙💨

[vanishingcherry]

Hey Leah, hope you’re doing good. If you’re taking requests, please could I get either Charles or Lando x fem reader. I had a really shitty day and my friends seem really distant and I feel super sad. Thank you x

PIANO LESSONS

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: heyy! im so sorry about your day... i hope you're feeling better now 🥰. im sorry its a bit late, ive just been in a writing slump and didn't have anything finished. ive had this in my drafts for a while tho so here you go!

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

It was summer break, which meant Charles was home for over 2 weeks and you had him all to yourself. Granted, you did have days in which you would go out with family and friends, but it was a manner of speaking. It meant that you would be together almost 24/7 for days at a time, something rare in his career.

That was why the two of you had pre-decided to make the most of it. Charles felt guilty sometimes, about not being, in his words, the boyfriend you deserved. Although you had told him multiple times that he was perfect, he held on to that insecurity, which is why you went along with everything he planned, knowing that all he wanted to do was spend time with you.

You could honestly say you had been on more dates in the last week than you had so far in the year. There were the simple dinner dates, movie dates, hiking dates and also the more unique ones, such as the one that ended with, for some reason, throwing paint on each other.

But with all that, there were also the more quiet days. The days in which the two of you would stay in your apartment all day long. Those were your favourite days. There was something special about being able to wake up late, not having to worry about work or some sort of event.

"Have you been awake a while?" you whisper, shifting so that you would be closer to him, tucking your head under his own as he continues to run his fingers through your hair.

"Ouais." he murmurs. Yeah. "Mais c'est bien. I like looking at you."

It was another one of these days, and you were coming back from the kitchen with a snack when you heard the soft notes of the piano. Smiling, you switched off your phone and walked into the makeshift studio you and Charles had converted a guest bedroom into.

He had taken piano lessons during quarantine, and you had never been happier with his decision. There would be times in which you would come home from work, the sound of music immediately putting you in a state of relaxation.

You stand in the doorway, watching as his fingers dance across the keys. A few minutes later, when he stops playing, you walk over and sit next to him.

"What piece was that?" you ask softly, not wanting to speak too loud. You rest your head on his shoulder, offering him a chip from your bowl.

"Did you like it?" he replies, answering with a question of his own.

"Yeah, it was beautiful. I loved it."

"It's mine. I made it." he admits sheepishly. "I was just trying something out."

"REALLY? Oh my god, amour!" Your eyes widen at his words, head turning towards him in disbelief.

"Yeah. You actually like it?"

"Yes, of course! Oh my god, bebe. How did you- I'm so proud."

He shyly smiles at your praise, before piping up. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Your song?" you ask, clearly excited.

"Well" he starts. "Maybe not my song right now, but I can teach you an easier song... and then we can work up to my song?"

"Ouais! I can't believe I never thought of that before."

He smiles at your enthusiasm before wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He then gently takes your hands, placing them on the keys, keeping his fingers over your own. He looks at your expressing for a few seconds, unable to stop the smile from creeping on his face as he realises just how special you are.

"You press this finger and this finger at the same time, and hold it for a second" he directs, after shaking his head to focus, pressing down on the right keys.

You follow his directions, going over ever note a few times before moving on. He was patient, overly so, helping you with the biggest grin as you ask him to repeat the last few steps.

Before you knew it, it had been over an hour, and you had learnt quite a bit of what Charles was teaching you. At this point, both of your attention spans were low, and there wasn't a lot of playing going on. Rather, it was you trying to get through the last few notes before a break while Charles lightly tickled your sides, proving to be an annoyingly cute distraction.

"I think I'm done for today" you sigh, shifting slightly to rest your back against Charles.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm tired." you say.

He nods sympathetically before standing up and pulling on your hands to make you do the same.

"You go to bed and put something on the TV, okay? I'll make dinner and be there soon."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to help?"

"It's just pasta" he replies, shrugging and lightly pushing you in the direction of the bedroom.

"Okay... but I want mine al dente", you emphasize. "Not croccante"

liked by arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari and 309,857 others

yourusername thanks for the piano lesson @.charlesleclerc

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charlesfan oh to have charles as a piano teacher

scuderiaferrari couple goals

ynfan AUS23 yn's pov when

charlesleclerc of course ❤️... same time tomorrow?

↳ yourusername i'd love to

[carmenpeach]

hm okay something thats been on my mind for like over a year now. sometime last year? or maybe closer to almost 2 years(!?) i started taking antipsychotics cause i just couldnt stand the paranoia anymore it had been ruining my life and i just could not function as a person and i was sick of the daily panic attacks. but like i thought "if i dont like how this makes me feel, i can stop and just go back to being crazy" and obviously i wasnt enjoying it- mostly it made me feel really numb to enjoyment and i found that my special interests were just becoming background noise for me at most and it was really hard like i didnt wanna draw or even play games it was like "wake up go to work come home smoke weed go to bed repeat"

and it was like my stuffed animals quit feeling like sentient and started to feel like just objects and it made me feel sick. like my toys had always been alive in a way and then suddenly they werent, but thats definitly not the reason i was so distressed being sane, since i know that special objects are bound to over the years not feel like friends etc etc <- mentally ill whatever. it was like there was a sudden wash of clarity over me and i hated it.

like it was like i was split in two in a way, and this is the part thats hard to explain unless you personally know the feeling. a lot of schizophrenic people have this feeling of like another person/ self residing in the back of the head or spine. and it gives this sense of paranoia, of being over your shoulders or under your skin just beneath you. and until a few years ago i didnt know this was something other people felt sometimes, and it was terrifying just feeling this entity of sorts possessing me in a way. i had felt it ever since i was a kid (maybe 9? for sure became a hard issue by the time i was 12 though so you know. early schizophrenia if not life long) but i never mentioned it to anyone for a variety of reasons, primarily because there was this feeling that if i outwardly acknowledged it, then it would know that i knew about it, and it would get me. whether that was killing me, torturing me, pulling me into another dimension, or taking over my body. and after 2 decades it just became part of my every day life, this thing within me that would always look for an opportunity to torment me in some unknown but inhumane way. and it was just this all consuming feeling, even feeling its thoughts inside my head, and not being sure where i ended and it began, and i accepted it as just a part of me for better or for worse.

and so starting antipychotics, they did their job and i felt "normal" and i was sleeping regularily for the first time in my life (would lay awake for hours and hours ever sinde like idk 3rd grade. 5 hours a night max usually and then that was plagued by nightmares. and of course the constant hallucinations and delusions in the meantime made sleep even harder) and i even felt less of that endless anger inside of me. and i hated it. it was like after being on it for idk maybe 2 weeks or a month or something i just suddenly in the day felt this clarity wash over me and just like that, the spine creature was gone. it was quiet upstairs. and ive felt hollow ever since. i quit the medication not long after but ive felt the same. its like it got mad at me and left to teach me a lesson for trying to toy with it. and ive been a half human ever since. its spacious in my body and in my mind, used to holding two people and now its just one. and ive spent so much time trying to induce epiosdes and just hoping(?) it comes back, but it hasnt.

its like im being forced to live as a human when im not. "being human" is this like aspect ive always struggled with, like im not gonna go into it but ive been forced to live as a non human my whole life, and every time i start to feel that feeling of "maybe i could be a person" something fucking outlandish happens and kicks me back down. i feel like a cartoon character the way everything is such a "yeah this sort of shit would happen to me" moments all the time. and like in a weird way, i always had this "evidence" i was a non human, with this otherworldly thing living inside of me and it was me.

for a long time i thought of it as the "original" me before all the events in my life forced me to create a new version of myself, and that it hated me. like i was one person ripped in two, and the part you have now (carmen) is the "active" "half" but its only half of a full person. but the other half certainly wasnt a person either. ive had many theories of what it is/ was, but knew i would never know, all i knew was that i could never acknowledge it. and its funny cause knowing that "its just schizophrenia" doesnt ease that feeling. its hard to explain. but what im getting at is that ive spent the last two years learning to navigate myself as only a fraction of what i was before.

its interesting cause i wouldnt say the insanity is gone, every now and then paranoia rears its head and certain topics that would make me have an episode will still freak me out. but i can walk past mirrors now (mirrors were always a 100% episode inducing thing) and i still sleep regularily and ive been eating stable too. but its still with this feeling of hollowness. im used to there being two people inside my body and now its just one, and its too spacious and its almost like i get lost in there. only one set of thoughts in my head, only one person looking through my eyes, only one person controlling my arms. i always felt like an alien and thought i always would. and i found great joy in embracing my schizophrenia rather than hiding it as some terrible secret. and it was the best thing i ever did for myself, was finally being open about my psychosis. ive made so many meaningful connections to other psychotic people, and im so happy ive met ppl that helped me understand myself and that im not the only one that feels this, and also that ive helped other people realize their own psychosis too.

i thought i could play pretend at being a normal person and go back to myself if i didnt like it, but i ended up staying this way. i know its not impossible for that feeling to come back maybe, but my god its horrifying to lose it the way i did. it feels only the more recent months ive started to adapt to being the only me in my body, and to feel like i could maybe be human too. yeah it was scary, but on the other hand now its kind of lonely in a really weird way, and not something i thought was possible either, i can still feel the impression where it was even as it fills in with my own shape now.

[destinygoldenstar]

Total Drama Danganronpa Island Chapter 4 Deadly Life Spoilers:

Tw: I talk about suicide and cancel culture in the story

I myself have never experienced having suicidal thoughts. The only time I can recall where I came close was getting braces. Yeah. So you can imagine the research I had to do, especially since in this very fic, I’ve been pretty dismissive of mental illnesses and disorders. That I apologize for and hope I can do better.

This was something I felt more than anything, I CANNOT dismiss this, nor can I sugarcoat it. I have to be as respectful to it as possible, and actively discourage the idea. Never know if there’s a crippled person out there that sees your work and takes it to heart. (That’s a nightmare for me. To have something I made be responsible for someone’s death)

I have a romantic partner with chronic illnesses for almost ten years now, and still no cure. Multiple times, they’ve shared to me their suicidal thoughts, thoughts that made me scared of losing them. They’re still alive, and they say over and over again it’s because of me.

I’m someone who has a hard time talking coherently. That’s why my social media presence is mostly text. So Bridgette’s speech here, I personally see it as me talking to the people struggling to find something to live for and never give up even where there’s literally no hope left. There’s always something, even when you don’t see it at the moment. Someone to love, someone who loves you, a book you like, a show you like, nice walks, whatever. There’s something. You can’t experience those good things if you’re dead.

There’s also some cancel culture commentary here. Everyone’s a part of it whether we consciously know it or not. It’s really sad.

I cant count how many times Ive said something whether in real life or online and I become self-conscious whenever someone has a certain response. One wrong word and a whole group of people can hate you. That’s all it takes.

In the realm of fame, either you’re a role model or you’re a disgrace. Nothing in between.

Total Drama isn’t any different from this subject matter with Gwen in particular. Something I feel a lot if people overlook.

There are some cases where it’s lies and the person is innocent, you may find a few examples of such, and that's just heartbreaking.

But what happens when you ACTUALLY screw up? Make a mistake? Make a fool out of yourself? Like humans do? (I.e, Gwen) Cancel Culture tells you you’re therefore an awful person with no redeeming qualities, and that one mistake suddenly becomes your whole life. It’s heartbreaking especially when the cancelled person WANTS to own up and be better, but the people just don’t have it.

Then there's the other side of cancel culture, which many famous people, such as Chris, use to defend TRULY terrible people and say the world is in the wrong.

Either way, Gwen was treated like dirt and sent to suffer for an old mistake, for so long until she lost hope altogether and bailed on fighting. The others could've helped her, but only Duncan took the time to consider helping, and he tried to commit suicide... so what other influence was there for Gwen in a world where she really needed a friend?

Does this mean the other campers are entirely to blame? No. But there is a lesson for them to learn here about empathy and redemption as a concept. Them hating her is understandable if you the audience want to see it as understandable reasons to hate Gwen, but did they go about it the right way? No.

Gwen Ellis is nothing short of a tragedy and a cautionary tale of a minor being a victim of cancel culture.

And the surviving campers want to make sure that her fate never happens to anybody else ever again.

And in case you’re wondering why Bridgette is the one who gave the eulogy, when Duncan and Courtney were right there, 1) Neither were very mentally stable at the time 2) Bridgette is one of the hosts with who WAS Geoff (And is now Leshawna. Platonically.), so she has the experience to give speeches like this in front of people. That and she has the calm agency to be mature about the situation, especially how she, more than anyone, feels like she HAS to own up to her mistake of being a part of the fuel that lead to the death of this girl.

And she didn't have to do that, and no one would blame her. Gwen killed Geoff, forced to or not, and Bridgette was understandably upset and could still hold that grudge even after Gwen's death, and no one would blame her. But the fact that she took ownership after realizing what's happened says a lot about her as a person.

[jupitercl0uds]

sudden wave of misery ruins everything take a vent about ballet lessons

lately ive been missing taking ballet lessons and wish i kept doing it. i dunno why, i just do. back when i was 3-6, i did jazz, then tap, then ballet every wednesday. i kinda hated it, but i didn't really have a choice, and i enjoyed it enough to not want to quit.

in february, we'd do a show and that was always fun. i then would hate march, when we'd do rewards night. i only ever went to 2 rewards nights and i hated both and almost cried at both. the first year, i got 1 reward: participation. the second, i got 'most improved'. i was miserable when my friend amber was sat there with 3 different trophies and going up for more, meanwhile i was still yet to get mine. she even complained about it to me.

i could never dance like everyone else. i could never smile like everyone else. i could never do good like everyone else, but god i wanted to. i tried and tried and tried and nothing worked.

when i was 7, we moved house and i didnt like any of the local dance groups. i wanted to go to my old one, and that was a 4 hour drive away, if you're really lucky with traffic. so, i quit.

as i said, i've been missing ballet since, but particularly now. now, when my motor skills are at an all time low besides fine motor skills. now, when i pass by the local dance shop and look at the pointe shoes and this 1 fabulous tutu. and i want to go back. i want to do tap again. i want to do jazz. i even want to do ballet, which was my least favourite of the three. and i can't

one of my plans is to join a rowing club in sixth form. one of the things my town is known for is having a fairly important river running right through it, surrounding the town centre. i really enjoyed rowing the last time i did it, and i certainly enjoy rowing machines, so yeah, that makes sense

but rowing isnt dance and that's what i want to do.

[orimuraa]

OMG FAMILY TIMEEEEE whats up whats up whats uppp

OKOK SO.... my dad left when i was 3 months old, mom is from nicaragua and my bio dad is from honduras, i have 4 sisters (2 from my bio dad past woman (never met them) and 2 from my moms past man) I have a niece named aria and , i started to write poems after i found my grandmas old poems (no one knows this besides the people of tumblr 🙂) im currently a 9th grader, i have broken my leg twice (same DAMN LEG) and broken my arm once, i reallllly like cars, my step dad is a mechanic so i come over to check stuff out and learn more abt them, when im older i either wanna be a f1 racer or a dancer (maybe a writer) i have been to 3 elementarys, almost joined the cheer team till i found out how much the outfits cost ($1000 FOR A DAMN FIT?!?) started dance around 8years old, i live in the GHETTOOOOOOOO ratatatataaa (if you dont know what im talking abt ima kms) my mom is a nurse, im christian, started listening to kpop 2018 (fun fact, first song i listened to was ddu du ddu du) and thats basically my life story!!! hbu?!

woah, family bonding is so deep. (dw i knew what you were talking abt for the raatattatataa) but wow! ty for sharing ^^ okay here we go:

both my parents are korean and i can speak some rusty korean but it absolutely sucks. i have an older brother in senior year of hs. im also a 9th grader rn and i have never broken a bone (knock on wood). ive been a dancer for literally ever i also take vocal lessons and i love art! my parents are both doctors and i have a pet dog and a chinchilla <3 i rlly like to crochet and cook! i started stanning kpop in 2015 cuz of my older cousins and the first group i ever fully stanned was seventeen! ive been stanning enha since i-l*nd so ive been riki's girl since day 1 💪 ive dyed my hair 9 times and it probably hates me by now :D i also have a toshiba brand microwave. that's kinda it...ngl my life is quite boring :/

i felt our bond grow so much right there 😏

[i-eat-nail-polish]

Hi friends. Back from my forgetfulness of this app but I have another entry since this has become a public diary.

While this upcoming election is another life or death race, in both age and policies, I want everyone to think about something, and there are a few parts to this thought exercise.

The overarching message is, no matter the outcome, I’m not moving from the US no matter how bad it gets.

1: Our world is so connected

This seems obvious but let’s break this down. Throughout the Palestinian genocide, I and many many many others have learned about Palestinian culture, history, and small things like daily life and food. Ive also learned more about other Arab nation’s customs and cultures. The one thing I hear throughout my timeline is the sentiment of “this is my home.” It goes beyond, “this building is where I live and is my address,” it’s “this is a core part of my world.” I keep this statement close to me because I feel the same way. America is not a great country with many things wrong with it, but it’s still my home with all of my friends and family. The state that I live in is a huge part of my world that I’ve grown to love. I am very thankful I’m in a state that has my basic rights at the forefront of its policies, but I understand many states don’t. I’ll get into this later. The point is, I will take the lessons I’ve learned from listening to Palestinians and apply them to my community no matter the outcome. As Mansour said in his posts “we remain steadfast.”

2: we are stronger together

In real life, I am a working drag queen. Last year, it was really scary with the drag bans trying to be passed in the many state governments. I knew entertainers that were in Tennessee and Florida (the worst affected) and almost lost their income. However, during that pride, you could feel that energy of resistance that pride was built off of. Both entertainers and audience reignited that flame of disruption and stuck it to the public that this was not a popular policy and that we love drag. This signals to me that even a year later, as every single drag bill was struck down, that we are stronger and capable of accomplishing change together. We are still fighting against the transphobic policies that did get passed in places like Ohio and florida, and while maybe our government is ignoring us, the public understands that this is not a popular policy and that is as equally important. We as queer people are a strong and resilient community. We will make it together.

So why do I say this?

I hear a sentiment floating around again of “if trump gets elected I’m leaving the country.” Let me emphasis: It is up to you to decide what you need to be safe. I don’t want to shame people for fleeing for a multitude of reasons for safety. Im saying this out of a disappointment of those saying it in a defeating, giving up tone. I’ll say it, many cis gay men say it in this tone and it makes me upset because is this not your home? Are we not your family? I can tell you now that no matter what the election is and what happens, I’m going to stay here and fight for my queer family because this is my home. I’ve lived here for 20 years and I’m just now starting to live life. I can tell you I have found my queer family FINALLY after waiting for so long and I would never give up on them. I don’t like this attitude of giving up because the odds seem stacked against us. Failure is an option and we do have to be prepared for what happens next, NOT a give up and move scenario. That leaves everyone who cannot afford to leave in the dust and every little bit matters.

Please consider this, your family, your queer family, and your home the next time you feel like this is a lost cause scenario. We are strong as a community. We’ve been through some horrible shit and we will go through more, but we will do it together and come out stronger. Don’t you ever forget that.

[nyaqtn]

(∪｡∪)｡｡｡zzZ 18/4/2024; [5:16 pm]

im in my visual merchendising class right now and i have nothing to do... okay i wont lie , i have something to do but i dont want to do anything.. so :3 here i am !!!

i still have seven hours of school ahead of me... TT

at least im not toooo tempted to spend time outside, its raining and im glad im cozy and inside ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩)

after school, ill have to study ..i have a test tomorrow .. and im not prepared tooo well..sooo ill prepare today!!

i have three hours of politics class today.. idk how im gonna survive.. i need fun online games to play.. in order to pass time...aaaa..... theres tons of exams coming up and just thinking about it bores me ...i just want to have fuunnn and spend time outsideeee ..

i used to play the guitar.. almost every other day!! as i used to go to a music school, i got weekly lessons there and i even played electic guitar/bass in a band !! i really really reeaallyyy miss it soooo much.. playing the e-guitar for me is something like.. i guess you could call it a 'lost passion' ?? if that makes sense (´-﹏-；) it was something that kept me going and i really miss having enough time to practise TT i wish i could just pick up lessons again and have a fixed spot reserved for playing ... but with the amounts of schoolwork i have .. its not happening anytime soon.. ive been wanting to continue guitar lessons for 2 years now .. i even had a teacher pick out at some point but.. im just scared it will ruin the fun i have playing and turn it into a chore rather than a hobby ... lets just see where life takes me for now ヾ(･ω･`;)ﾉ

update: its some hours later now !!!! im in the train on my way back home hihi

currently listening to my j-pop playlist :3 i LOVVE riding the train/bus, listening to music and writing - i used to write poems on my way home from school.. maybe ill pick that up again aswell!!

i got my hair done yesterday and im not sure what to think of it yet.. im sure ill like it eventually.. it just has yet to grow on me..

i really want to try long but REALLY REALLY layered hair.. i wish i could get my hair to grow faster but ! i guess waiting teaches me patience ≖‿≖

ive been obsessed with croissants recently. my brother told me he likes to dip his into pistachio yoghurt .. i want to try so badly... ohmagooddbds.... i tried a crookie (croissant stuffed with cookie dough) today.. it was SO yummy ...

could continue writing for hours but i think ill use this motivation for some schoolwork TT

[highpriestess-stuff]

So my day started out well i started with self love affirmations which ive been doing for the past 2 days starting off with a spiritual bath and i must admit it has mad quite a difference im excited to see how this will help me i didnt realise how much i truly needed self love i honestly thought i was such a confident person but im starting to realize how harsh iand negative i can be and im starting to see exactly why all these bitches are jealous of me especially the ones that i work with ive never really had a hard time with making friends but ever since me & T broke but damn did it do a number on me.. Getting cheated the first time was just traumatic & left me with anxiety but having such a strong support system and going to the gym almost like everday and letting it out really helped but this break up just left me completely distraught and just made me not want to live life anymore and isolate myself & i didnt realize how it was affecting all my relationships with my friends my family and co workers like damn this narcissistic gas lighting bitch sucked my fucking soul like end all be all and not a single person there to pick up my pieces my like damn had to get myself out of this shit and i feel powerful as fuck never will i let anyone tear me down like that again LESSON LEARNT: Never settle for less. Took 2 years of my life to realize that but hey it coulda been worse.. still trying to see the positivity in this lol coulda gotten married to this bitch ass but thank god he really had to take me off this path this person refused to understand me & the lesson i learnt was that im not for everybody i am simply a Diving Feminine and we aint for everybody if people dont get u then dont waste your time arguing or explaining yourself cause the right people to get you like how did i become so lost and desperate? i just really wanted him to see me for me i just really wanted to make my family happy .. & he wanted to make his the only difference was im not what his family wanted and u know what thats their loss because as soon as i came out i was told i was going to be a motherfuckin champion it truly is his loss lol he fucked up big time and his family is a peice of shit if they really loved him they would want him to be happy but i guess whats what he deserves OH WELL now i see why they dont want the best for him he deserves exactly that shit even the lord dont want the best for him but me i am truly blessed and protected so thank you Jesus!

Going thru that experience really left me feeling emptier then even it felt like people could also see right thru me it left my fuckin boundaries all over the place i allowed people to step all over me cause i constantly thought i was the problem but now im starting to see i was never the problem its this cruel ass world no matter how nice u are to people or how much u just want to help them because u truly see what the can become and u see their potential it doesnt mean that their going to follow that exact path that u want for them it means giving up control letting people have their own experiences and im just trying to be comfortable with that like hey you wanna go fuck up your life go ahead like who am i to control u not like i got super powers cause if i did bruh. People are wylin & then godforbid i wanna do something for myself then they got a problem like what? are yall on. For example Victoria shes so far up my ass but yet cant even be there for me when i need her like bitch step aside and all day at work today she was so sad like what are u sad for... what happend to that advice that u give everytime "Dont Care" like lets see u do that now you dumbass u look fuckin stupid i have completely lost my respect for her like she looks for pathetic how dare she tell me not to care when i share my feelings with her like hows that going for you? keep ur bitch ass advice to yourself the only reason i ever listened to her was cause i actually respected her i thought she was someone i wanted to be like fuck no! i am so much better then her im better then any of these people how dare they show my any fuckin attitude ever like put some motherfuckin respect on my name or get the fuck out of my face and my energy aura cause i aint for everybody you wanna be around me? show some fuckin respect or get the fuck out because i value myself and my opinions and i can find people who do do i dont need you bitch ass people clearly YOU NEED ME like these people need to realise they need me at the end of the day so show respect or get the fuck out. Even will came in with some wack ass attitude but the second i refused to acknowledge him this nigga really started sucking my dick like are you for real why do i need to be rude like is that what turns you people on like is this why im working in this type of environment to learn that i just need to stay away from people who dont respect my energy why because you people cant do the work and become great like me??? ive done the work ive done the time ive earned to be where the fuck i am and if maybe yall put in the work you guys would be on my level but u aint thats why you bitches are so fuckin miserable and just focused on me unfortunatly thats what comes with the fame and i aint leveling down for no fucking body i came a long fuckin way and i deserve this shit put my crown on again & im knock it off * & this bitch shan like i thought she was the nicest girl ever bitch HAD the audacity to show me attitude like girl do u know who ur dealing with ur 20 nothing its actually cute and laughable because she looks like that character from ice age she thinks shes really doing something i cant with these hoes thinking they affect like.. like bruh this is my partime job lol this is your lifetimes career ofcourse u going to be mad lol stay mad cause what im winning? so u think showing me attitude gonna do something um no it just shows me that ur a terrible person ur disgusting and fuckin ugly i was just being nice and now that youve shown ur true colors i no longer need to loook go crawl back in ur dark cave u hoeeeeeeeeeee.. anyways ill be back for more updates byeeee

[ryuuthefluffybunny]

helloo :o im reviving my tumblr after years of inactivity because whyyy not ive been wanting an outlet to do tarot readings and im pursing a written format because videos are just not the vibe rn >.> so here goes 

*~some shadow work that would be beneficial for you~*

 theres going to be 2 piles to choose from and I’m using the hermetic tarot. I’m initially pulling three cards for wants, needs, and desires(one of my favorite simple spreads for myself, my go to) and then some motivational cards for closing advice. 

♡ Pile 1 ♡

Wants: Nine of Pentacles

Needs: The Empress

Desires: The Emperor

what i see is that you have a strong desire to see the seeds you have sewn in the past finally bear you fruit. you feel you have waited a long time to the point where you feel like ripping them while they are unripe. your lack of control in this process makes you feel anxious and powerless, causing you to double down acting extremely controlling and insensitive. it could be that money is a tender spot for you, perhaps you’ve experienced periods in your life where you had very little and you DID have to rip it from the tree early just to make ends meet and sustain yourself. you have both the emperor and the empress, representing a power and self mastery that is unrivaled in the entire tarot. yet your past hinders you from seeing this, or maybe even accepting it. a part of you feels unable to cope with this current waiting period because it could have cost you so much in the past. but now is different, you have grown so exponentially as a person and its time for you to truly embrace this. you ARE in control of your life, so you don’t need to overexert your power onto things, trying to rush against time. let this period of waiting be a lesson to you, to show you that good things DO come to people who wait. you have watered this plant every day so diligently. it is time for you to wait for the plant to do the work too, seeing how equal give and exchange with the world can bring you even more beautiful, fruitful results than you could have ever imagined. 

motivational cards: “I believe in you”, “Happiness blooms from within”

there is a need to work on the way you think about yourself. you lack a self belief to the point where it clouds your vision of the present. some good exercises for you would be to ground yourself when you are feeling powerless or even down and insecure. acknowledge the things you have achieved. maybe the voice in your head will tell you your achievements are small and insignificant, but this is not true. take the time to see how the ways you have progressed as a person have helped you in your life, to bring you to the point you are today. and remember that success is not defined by numbers-- money or followers or anything of that sort. success is progressing positively, even a little. when you first plant a seed, the first sprout is such an exciting and successful moment! and most importantly, you can never get to the flower if you don't get a sprout!

if you are interested in doing something more physical, there was a strong theme of growing plants here, and i would say that watering a plant everyday(literally) and meditating on how slowly but steadily it grows would help you build trust with the idea of equal give and take. you are the type to kick yourself for not doing enough, even when you're doing way tooo much. remind yourself as much as you can, you are enough! believe in the work you do and it will take you far on the path of prosperity and self love. good luck! ♡

♡ Pile 2 ♡

Wants: Seven of Cups

Needs: Four of Swords

Desires: King of Pentacles

this pile has a LOT of options in some area of your life, the word i am getting is opportunities. you are currently in this state of overthinking almost constantly. you feel you have to make a decision on what you are going to do/where you are going to go ASAP or shit will hit the fan and all hell will break loose. yet in all this thinking and forcing yourself to try and make a decision, you just fall deeper and deeper into a pit of confusion. your energy is just charging ahead aggressively, and there is a vibe that you are running from the past. sitting at this giant multi-fork in the road is making you feel extremely unstable. its like you are on a bike and you are trying to stand still with both your feet up, you feel like you will fall sideways into the ground. or that you are driving and at a stop sign and scared someone will pull up behind you while you don't know where to turn yet! but the reality of this situation is that rushing is not going to help you, even though this is going to make you soooo anxious. its time to step off the bike, and park on the side of the road. you have decisions to make and that's no simple task. there is this constant energy that you are looking behind you, that you don't want something to catch up because you wont be safe. like you have to go as far away as possible. its possible there are some things that have happened in your past that you felt controlled your life and there were all these rules set in place and now that you are finally gone from it you don't want to fall back in. the truth is you have left that situation in the dust! but it has left your sense of safety damaged as well as your ability to make decisions for yourself. decisions were made for you. you didn't choose, things were chosen for you. being in a cage became comfortable. the eyes that watched you so constantly made you feel safe. what you want is to feel independent, and free. but the first step to doing so is realizing that these feelings of the past are unhealthy, and weren’t meant for you forever. you feel paranoid now because its time for change, and that is never comfortable. you are a powerful and self sufficient being who IS ready to do whatever you want! and that means taking the time to ask yourself, “what do i really want?” what have you been denying yourself? do you feel like you are incapable? just plain bad so there is no point in trying? because that is what holds you back from identifying your true desires. you ARE capable, and its time you washed away any feelings from the past that tell you otherwise. 

motivational card: “Say yes to new adventures!”

the reality is that whatever choice you make is the right one for you. it might sound unrealistic, sure, but you live and you learn, and you have a lot of both to do! you don't need to feel rushed to make a decision because one might disappear either. if you don't catch it in time, it wasn’t meant to be, and that's okay! there is no one right decision that will make your life amazing. your life is a culmination of all the decisions you make, big and small. its absolutely ok to jump into things that make you excited, whether or not you are familiar with them. but most importantly, you have to take the time to see yourself for who you truly are and what you truly like. 

some exercises that would really help you are for one: napping-- and to extend off that, taking a couple minutes(or even seconds if you cant go for minutes yet) to close your eyes and let your body relax. listen to the sounds around you, and know you are safe to be who you want to be. finding places that bring you peace could be an adventure in itself. :3 when you find things you consider yourself to be bad at, pursue them wholeheartedly instead! if there are things you dont feel allowed to do, ~JUST DO IT~ you are allowed to explore and experiment with yourself, so find every mental chain you can and break them, one by one. and dont feel stressed if you cant finish this task quickly, its not easy at all. for some it can last a lifetime, but that is what it is all about. we live, we learn, and most importantly we find things that give us joy! so live your life to the fullest, walk where you please, hell, run if you want to. your life is for you and no one else. ♡

[wizkiddx]

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now. 

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too. 

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy. 

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English. 

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response  Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke. 

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that. 

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her. 

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest. 

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over. 

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language. 

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak. 

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing. 

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly. 

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors. 

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest. 

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay. 

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together. 

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions. 

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately. 

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes. 

“I hate you, you know that right?” 

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it. 

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.” 

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction. 

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat. 

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed  his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees. 

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips. 

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous. 

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

[glass-expanse]

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!

I've been 19 for a week and a day now and everything is going so much better than it was before.

All of May and June, I was deep in the trenches of depression and suicidal ideation. My 19th birthday, the evil voices were abruptly and miraculously gone. I had spent the day before stressed over scheduling an wanting to die and I broke down and just sobbed to God and told Him I couldn't fight for my life anymore and that He would have to fight for me. Just like Psalm 40 says, He heard my cry for help, He brought me up from the desolate pit, He took me out of the muddy clay, and now He is being faithful to set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure. I certainly wasn't good at waiting patiently, but His mercy is more than my failings!

By His grace, I have taken on the challenge to get back into the Word. I started studying Psalm 103 today and it's every reminder that I needed for the past several months. My relationship with God, while still weak after battling depression, hasn't had the chance to be strengthened like this in months.

A little over a year ago, I got sicker than I have ever been in my whole life. I had Covid and Heatstroke at the same time. I started manifesting symptoms of Covid on my 18th birthday-- I was extremely exhausted and blamed it on stress and the hard job I had splitting myself between camp riding lessons, farm riding lessons, trail rides, camp events, and my camp cabin. Sunday I came to the staff meeting at 0 energy level. Monday I was so depressed and felt so ill that I had to skip catching. I slept through breakfast. It was supposed to rain, but instead the entire farm was choked by a thick glistening haze of humidity. Because of the rain prediction, I had on a long sleeve (light colored) shirt.

I was so weak I couldn't project my voice and had to thrust my assistant into the thick of learning how to explain concepts in the order I gave them to him. Water cups came and I sank to me knees. I had to get through my trail ride-- it was my first chance to ride a horse I'd had my eye on for so long. 17 hands tall. 5 years old. I trust him with my life. Because I white knuckled that saddle horn for dear life, praying I wouldn't pass out. I was too week to even telephone directions for a crooked saddle up the line.

Halfway through, I feel like I need a sub. Call my assistant who is leading. He says hang in there, we're almost back. I cling to consciousness. One of my best friends sees that I'm pale and out of it, springs off the manure spreader tractor, fixes my student's saddle, and leads me in by the reins.

After a chiropractor appointment I guzzled water and powerade all afternoon and talk to my fellow on the phone. I didn't feel any better by dinner so I went to the nurse. Fever. Sick. I drive home in a daze and lie in bed for the next week, too weak to even stand in the shower.

For this past year, I have suffered from fatigue, heat sensitivity, and as time went on, serious pain in every single major joint and bone of my body save my skull. Shoulders, elbows, wrists, forearms, upper arms, back, hips, femurs, knees, shins, ankles, feet, hands... You name it, any physical activity made it hurt.

I couldn't do anything I loved to do. I couldn't even work a 16 hour workweek without being totally sapped each day. things only seemed to get worse, especially as warm weather returned. I had finally given up after two weeks of a diet that only made things worse.

And then, I took a course of iv*rm*ctin. Just a children's course. During the course, I still had pain... But after... It was gone! Praise God! The first improvement I had seen in a year of taking tests, seeing doctors, taking supplements, changing diets, trying rest, trying working, trying everything short of steroids. Finally, finally! I have improved!

And today, today has been so exciting! I spent 2+ hours in direct sunlight... carried two water buckets... cut and arranged not one but TWO full size bouquets... picked berries... measured and remeasured a 60x48 area... mucked out the chicken coop a bit... planked for 30 seconds... and walked a ton. And then, after that, I didn't go inside! I stayed on the porch in part sun part shade until 6:00 or so just talking with company we had over! Staying outside in 90 degree heat! Me! Indefinitely! With no issue!

I'm sore... but in my muscles. I'm tired... but I don't feel the endless black maw of fatigue. And the sun burned my face and arms but it didn't feel like it was hitting me like a mallet anymore. I'm still working on water intake, but. This. Is. Phenomenal. Praise God for His healing!

What's next? Well, I'm praying over my plans. What I would like to do is this. Help instruct camp lessons for the final month of camp. Then after that get a job at a flower shop as the working students return to school. And while I do that, continue to build back into riding and instructing by forging a connection with a new barn where I can be mentored as an instructor. Then this fall, attend a CHA clinic to become an officially certified instructor. And someday soon as I grow in these areas, find myself a couple roommates and buy myself a project horse to expand my marketable skills.

How can you be praying? Well, my largest request would be for patience. I have been so impatient for the past year. I know I tend to be impatient with my body, my abilities, and my goals. So while I can taste the future now, I know thag I still have to be gentle with my body as it returns to being a properly usable meatsuit lol. Also wisdom, that I would know the difference between creating my own doors and going through open ones. For humility, that I may submit my heart, mind, life, plans, and freedom fully to God. That He would make His will for my life clear and that I would have the humility to accept that. For boldness, that I would seek out wise counsel rather than avoiding it out of fear.

Blessed be the name of the Lord... the trials of the past year are yielding fruit, driving me closer to God, helping me support others... This is only the beginning. Even if my health stays here forever, even if it gets worse again, I know God still has a purpose for me and that He's not done with me yet. He can do anything. His will shall come through in my life, He'll make sure of it. I may not know for certain what the next step is, but I know that God is there and I have to take the responsibility to learn His Word so that I may discern the path ahead.

Jesus loves me so much. He gave mercy to Peter, who denied Him thrice over. He has given mercy to me. No matter how far I wander, I know I am in the hand of the most high God of heaven and earth, and I know that nothing can take me away from that, not even myself! My hope is in the sanctified of Christ, that I will continue to grow closer to God despite any setbacks.

Soli Deo Gloria

[redrose-arrow]

hi Duncan x halt anon here and you have NO IDEA what you’ve just unleashed (IVE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT THESE TWO FOR SO LONGN) but you said to go ahead and I will until it gets annoying!!!

ANYWAY so these two are...pretty different, right. But in the books Duncan lets Halt get away with a LOT and genuinely values him & Halt does have at minimum SOME respect for Duncan, bc I don’t think Duncan would tolerate just straight-up disrespect, but their dynamic is “very good friends friends who’ll tease/bully each other” more so than “loyal follower & royal leader”. SO what I’m thinking: after Crowley & Halt rescue him from the castle & they’re on their way to the tournament, Duncan realizes Halt is That Guy From The Ball That Duncan Totally Wasn’t Crushing On From Afar, and he’s like....BUT THEY SAID YOU WERE DEAD so Halt yanks him aside while Crowley’s distracted and is like “SHUT UP ILL TELL YOU LATER.” Duncan won’t tell Crowley or the others even if Halt doesn’t wanna explain but he IS very confused & Halt knows he won’t stop pestering him for an explanation...So he tells Duncan the story, late one night by the campfire, when Crowley is fast asleep. Halt keeps his voice low and he’s kinda reluctant to tell it at first but he gets through it, tells Duncan all about how his own brother resented him for being heir to a throne he never wanted in the first place, how he saw Ferris change and become more distant and manipulative over the years, how he witnessed firsthand how power could corrupt a man (and has the scars to prove it). Duncan asks about his parents, because surely they would’ve recognized the attempts on his life? “They fought too much to notice,” Halt says dismissively. “Even if they didn’t, I was hardly the son they would’ve wanted on the throne—Ferris was more charismatic, more amiable. I was the firstborn but he was their favourite, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to ruin that for them.” And he talks, eventually, about his little sister Caitlyn; the only one who saw what was going on and believed him when he told her, fever-ridden and delirious from a batch of “spoiled shrimp”, that Ferris was trying to kill him. The words come easier when Halt talks about Caitlyn and there’s something like a smile curled on his lips, and Duncan’s heart sorta skips a beat in his chest because Oh Right, I Used To Have A Crush On This Guy And It Turns Out I Still Kinda Do!!!! And then Halt talks about how Pritchard found him and how his mentor is the only one besides his terrible family who knows the truth about him & why he left, and maybe he doesn’t say it outright but he 100% implies that Pritchard is just so important to him. Like “father that I’ve never had, except I did have a father but he sucked and Pritchard was just so much kinder & better” kind of important

I took the liberty of copy-pasting your second ask so that no one else has to wait for the rest :)

"part 2 bc that was getting long,,,, ANYWAY, so Duncan and Halt stay up a bit longer talking—they move away from Ferris’ assassination attempts and just chat about other stuff for a bit. Duncan enjoys having another person to relate to abt the tediousness & honestly? the loneliness of royal life, and Halt honestly doesn’t expect to enjoy talking to someone else this much. The only other person he’s really connected to since coming to Araluen is Crowley, but Crowley is just enough of a bastard for Halt to tolerate (and maybe even like), so it’s a surprise that the other person he can connect with is a straight-laced prince. Also Duncan’s basically like “okay so this guy is an (ex?) crown prince, he’s INSANELY skilled & actually very funny in a deadpan, sarcastic way, AND he’s helping me take back my kingdom from an evil baron....yeah I can get behind this”. So yadda yadda they get through the confrontation with Morgarath at the tournament, and, true to his word, Duncan doesn’t tell any of the others about Halt’s background. At the end of the book when Pritchard is murdered, Duncan hears about it from Baron Arald and he’s like....oh, shit. He tracks down Halt and Crowley, both of whom are appropriately enraged and grieving, and makes proper funeral arrangements for Pritchard & allows them some time off to process their grief. Afterwards he goes to Halt privately, bc now he’s the only one who knows abt Halt’s childhood & he knows Halt lost more than a dear mentor—and Halt’s in his cabin being very short-tempered and snappy with him but Duncan just sits and waits. And eventually the anger kinda drains out of Halt, and he sits down at the table w Duncan and over ale they share stories about man who’d been like a father to Halt; Duncan didn’t know him all that well, but Pritchard had been around the castle enough when Duncan was a child for him to remember some of the chaos the man had caused. Halt tells a tale or two of his own and explains, a lottttt later when he’s drunker than he should be in front of the almost-king, that Pritchard had saved his life—they’d met while Halt was still at the castle and Pritchard had taught him how to swim some months before Ferris tried to drown him. But it was more than that, Halt tells him, it was so much more than that. Pritchard had been a safe haven, had given him refuge, had given him hope when he needed it most. And now he was gone and Halt was just..... he doesn’t finish the sentence but Duncan nods and says “I know”. Because yeah, he does know. And they sit in silence for a while longer, not as an (almost) King and Ranger but as two men who know what it’s like to be alone.

And now they don’t have to be!!! AND THIS ONLY COVERED THE FIRST TEY BOOK I have,,,, so many more things to say about these two but I THINK this has gotten long enough so 💀 I’ll leave this here. Ty for listening to my rant abt medieval middle-aged gays :D (also disclaimer: at this point, I think Duncan would be more or less the only one with some developing romantic feelings. But then again this only covers the first book, so Halt’s own revelation would come later)"

ANON YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

Their dynamic is indeed just that. Duncan recognising him out of the blue and Halt having to physically shut him up? Legendary. Duncan feeling his crush return? Amazing.

I never thought about Duncan and Halt relating about royal life but it makes so much sense??? especially just talking about the lessons and the trouble having friends etc etc. The resulting whole no-longer-alone thing has me *this* close to tears. Duncan then tracking down Halt -- he 11/10 w o u l d. Halt being angry and then just almost sobbing while Duncan has no idea wtf he should do but the fact that he's there and he's listening means everything to Halt.

Anon, I have absolute 0 regrets unleashing this. Awfully bold of you to assume that it'll get annoying. You fully got me now, I'm shipping them hard. I'm invested. Please do elaborate whenever you wish. I will gladly listen to more rants about medieval middle-aged gays. Go ahead.

[bbysamu]

It Ain’t Me - Part III 

Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you ; AKAASHI Keiji x you

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,024 

Warning: mentions of alcohol and drinking

Now Playing: It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez

✎ Preview: A few months have passed since your breakup. Kuroo is trying to clean up his act, but news of you might just have him scrambling back to the club. 

Ch. I

Ch. II

Ch. III

Ch. IV

Ch. V

Epilogue

a/n: no underage drinking please, don’t hinder your brain growth. Sorry to my fellow Akaashi simps, this one doesn’t feature much fluff with him, but I promise the next one will. 

It’s been approximately 8 months since your breakup. “7 new voicemails” your phone reads. 

“Y/N please just listen to---” deleted. 

“babe I promis---” deleted. 

“I'm begging you please just hear---” deleted. 

“Can we please just sit down and talk about this? I can’t do this anymore Y/N. I was so fricken stupid I don’t know what I was thinking. Please come back to my life. please....” deleted. 

“I know it’s been 8 months and 2 days and 3 hours since you left my life and Y/n...I'm dying....” deleted. 

“I’ve changed...I haven't had a drop of alcohol since you left. Let me show you I've changed.” deleted 

“Do you still love me? because I will always love you.” 

You don’t love him anymore, but for some reason, you just couldn’t press the delete button. 

“You look terrible”, Kenma stated, barely sparing a glance at his best friend. 

“I feel terrible. Scratch that. I feel something worse than terrible. I’d rather she scream at me and hit me than this radio silence.” 

Kenma looks up sympathetically from his phone before shaking his head. 

“you deserve it.” 

Kuroo looks at Kenma, “I know, but couldn’t you at least sugarcoat it?” 

“Y/N is a great girl and she’s my friend too, so no. Plus I want you to learn your lesson.” 

Kuroo sighs, “I already have. I’ve been trying to call her everyday for the past eight months, leaving her at least twenty voicemails a day.” 

“stalker alert.” 

Kuroo glares at Kenma, “I don’t know what I was thinking. If I could I'd take it all back.” 

“You can’t, so you need to think about how you can move on and stop bothering Y/N. You know how she is once she’s made up her mind.” Kenma looks Kuroo straight in the eye, “she’s not coming back this time.” 

Kuroo sighs, deep down he knew Kenma was right, but he refuses to let you go so easily. 

“I’m going to find her right now.” 

Kenma widens his eyes in shock, “no Kuroo--” 

He sighs, the empty room quiet again with the absence of his best friend. 

Kuroo knew it was a bad idea but he found himself in front of your company. It was almost lunch, so he knew you’d be walking out those double doors soon. 

His breath hitches as soon as he caught sight of you. You look so beautiful in your white blouse and pencil skirt, perfectly curled waves tousled by the spring breeze. 

Kuroo stops in his track as soon as your eyes meet. HIs handsome face flinches as he sees the pain in your eyes and the scowl on your face. 

“What are you doing here.” you asked, deadpanned. 

“I just wanted to talk. Please Y/N.” Kuroo asks, looking at you shyly. 

You look at his face, the noticeable dark shadows under his eyes and kicked yourself for softening. 

“Fine. What do you want Kuroo?” you sighed.  

Kuroo lights up at the chance. “I am really really sorry. I’m a changed person Y/N. Ever since that day I’ve cleaned up my act. I haven’t had a single drop of alcohol and I haven’t been to the club since. I haven’t even been with anyone, you can ask Kenma because I’ve been staying at his.” 

He looks at you apprehensively before continuing, “Y/N, I’ve reflected a lot about our relationship these past few months. I can’t fall asleep at night knowing how much I’ve hurt you and how I've hurt us. I want nothing more than to go back in time and beat myself up. We’ve been together for almost a decade. Can you give us another chance?” 

You’ve dreamed about this moment times and times before. But things were different now that your heart has been mended by another. 

“Kuroo I don’t think that’s possible.” 

He knew this was coming, but he was still surprised by the tears pricking his eyes. 

“Please Y/N. Don’t answer so quickly. Is this really the end for us?” 

“I--” 

Your conversation was cut short by the familiar voice of someone shouting your name. 

Both you and Kuroo whipped your head around to see Akaashi running up to you. 

Kuroo didn’t miss the way your eyes softened at the sight of Akaashi and the small smile on your face. 

He suddenly understood the reason for your rejection. 

“Akaashi huh?” Kuroo hated the venom in his voice, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

You narrowed your eyes at the accusation in his voice, “What about Akaashi, Kuroo?” 

“What? Did almost ten years of relationship mean nothing to you? How are you able to move on so quickly after not even a year?” Kuroo couldn’t stop himself, “gosh Y/N. I would’ve never taken you for such a slut.” 

You stared at him and gasped, mind boggled at his response “what did you just say?” 

“I said what I said.” Kuroo looked at you in the eyes, a thousand regrets in his heart.

Akaashi was at your side, trying to pull you back as you screamed at Kuroo. 

“are you insane Kuroo?! You’re trying to blame me?! For the record who was the one who cheated and destroyed our relationship?” 

You pushed a finger into his chest, he winced, “that's right it was you!”

“I moved on fair and square. You’re the one who destroyed our relationship and don’t you dare try to come and destroy my new one too.”

You pulled your arm out of Akaashi’s grasp. 

“Stop contacting her. I’m warning you Kuroo. If I see you around her one more time, I’m calling the police on you.” 

“shut up.” 

Kuroo hated the way Akaashi was looking at him. He’d rather it be a look of hate or anger, anything other than pity. 

Akaashi chases after you, leaving Kuroo standing there, watching you being comforted by your new lover. 

“whatever. Her loss.” Kuroo turned around angrily on his heels and went back to his apartment. 

♫ Who's gonna rock you When the sun won't let you sleep? Who's waking up to drive you home When you're drunk and all alone? It ain’t me ♫

At exactly 11 pm, Kuroo Tetsurou made his grand comeback to the club, a shot of whiskey in hand, his arms around another as he pushes the image of you and Akaashi out of his mind. 

Taglist: @aonenthusiast​, @mango-smoothies​, @sukunas-lady​, @donutwithinadonut​, @akaashiwife​, @mellowknightcolorfarm​ 

Join My Taglist!

[clavis-baby]

The (possible) Downfall of Obey Me

5-16-21 (when writing this the event toys out)

(Tbh this post is just be trying to be naïve towards Solomare and at ever aspectthat I mention you have every single right to be upset and mad)

Okay so it’s no secret that Obey me is making bank and is very very obviously trying to make us money on the game with even trying to make us spend money with original stuff that was free to now secretly changing some mechanics behind our back

Here’s a post by @thalfox https://thalfox.tumblr.com/post/653994972840919040/i-just-noticed-a-little-bit-ago-that-the-barbatos that dose a really good job at explaining everything that has changed

(also this isn’t a hate thing fox has actually done a great work explaining everything to good detail of what has changed)

With all the changes I don’t think that it’s shocking to say that players are leavening the fandom because of many reasons to the games getting stupidly harder to even the game development

This is just a heads up this in no way is a post saying “hey this is why you shouldn’t feel this way” I kinda just wanted to see from a business standpoint and be naïve of what’s happening you have every reason to be mad at Solomare because even me I’ve been playing sense week 2 of game released and I’m only on lesson 42 every counter argument that I’m going to make I have complained about at some point

Arguments

(P.s grammar is really bad it’s sort of turned into more of a rant I wrote this at 5 am without any sleep so sorry)

1. Obey me is marketed as a free to play game

First there are many reasons people are mad this main thing that I hear about is from a lot of people is that is a “free game” which lets be honest is ridiculously hard

But still it is still essentially a “free to play game” I personally feel like the main prolog is lessons 1-20 to introduce all the characters to understand and getting the just on how to play the game

Okay and now here’s where I sort of stand with obey me, the gatcha rates are kinda ridiculously lucky when you play for the first week you luck is so amazing and is in my experience with gatchas the best luck I have ever seen for games so it’s not really hard collecting the cards

Now are they the best absolutely no, this I feel like is where you might have to spend money unless they up the skills on the Nightmare A

But what Obey me is technically trying to do is obviously making you pay by releasing your favorite demon card every 2 week which…aren’t essential they are really just hoping that you love your main demon enough to pay

With the high increase on the gatcha rate there really isn’t a pity unless you count the card pieces (but I’m not going to count that because you are more likely to roll your UR before completing the pieces)

Now after lesson 20 once the huge break I feel like Obey me almost expecting the players to keep logging in any doing jobs and some players did do that and boy did it pay off

But those players have not needed to spend a single dollar and are all caught up

Now for everyone else who didn’t the game was so difficult it’s unimaginable and because for that a whole lot of players left the game and personally I don’t blame them because of how much impact the next lessons were

Now sort of like Mystic Messenger you really just have to grind you ass off log in everyday and do JOBS :D and grind but as hard and long as it is you are still able to be a f2p but where obey me fails is that when grinding Mystic Messenger grinding was a lot more fun for me it took about a whole year to just get 550 hourglasses even when I purchased and same with Genshin Inpact it takes a while but with obey me there isn’t really anything else to do once you get to a certain point which I think obey me really lacks and could be part of a reason why people left. Grinding just is not fun (now I do think that on a phone there is so much you can do with a app game but I feel like there could be a bit more they could do)

Personally I’m just going to come out and say it don’t spend your money for one UR card for your favorite demon it’s really not worth it now im one of those Mammon stans but if I ever wanted a specific card for instance the Mammon bunny card when it first came out I wanted it so badly and didn’t get it but I also knew there would eventually be a revival so I saved and did not spend any DV(demon vouchers) until the revival

The events

Some people complain about getting the cards in the events onestly for me this one kinda makes a bit of sense I noticed the first change when the Vampire even came out and how it wasn’t as easy to get the second card but if you think of it it makes sence why

When the first event came out (Santa event) you only had to collect about 30,000 gingerbread compared to the 100,000 in event today but when the first event came out no one was at high enough levels for the AP required and you would every day when times rest to gain gingerbread as well as there was only one part to the story so when people kept leveling up their AP Obey Me had to higher the bar so it wouldn’t be so easy to get all these cards and have a actual reward system but eventually they also added another story lesson starting at the Ruri Chan event

Second thing about the events is that one there started just getting plain out boring.

When lesson 20 finished and we were all waiting for season 2 I was still loving in everyday and logging in at 12 and 8 for the free 30 AP because I didn’t know what else to and would participate in the event but eventually what I think that all otome games that have constant events like Ikemen Vampire and Ikemen Revolution they just start getting repetitive and getting real boring so I stoped playing until there was something more interesting

The last thing that some people complain about the events is that you can’t keep up with the story and the events now I can’t find it but I believe that @0beyme said something about the events a long time ago about how you have to pick between the event and moving through the main story which I kinda think isn’t really the games fault and more just a discussion on maybe missing a event

Add ons

Okay so they did this from day 1 you spend a certain amount of Devil point that you guaranteed don’t have and get out a card

Now this is just spelling out a disaster

Yeah so for the first Charge Mission is when you log in which everyone had but essentially what they want you to do is spend $100 on a game that you just logged into and never experienced or played I don’t really understand what they were even thinking with that but it must’ve worked for them to keep doing them

The second time they did it was when the break was over and season 2 came out and they celebrated by doing another charge mission which was the Lucifer and Simon card which would cost again $100 again I really don’t understand what they were thinking

And now this is I believe the fourth time they have done this for the 1.5 anniversary where they know that Mammon is obviously a favorite for many Obey Me players and where smart to put it on the really stupid charge mission but the difference is, is that instead of it costing $100 it would cost almost $200(same with Levi’s) for one thing I don’t understand

But one thing that you do have to remember is is that this isn’t apart of the main gameplay it really just is a mini game if you would even call it that of dress up and optimization so still I guess would be just a add on that has no effect on the actual story and game so you could I guess still call it a f2p game with really really stupidly high priced add ons

VIP

Umm so I am the first one to call myself out I have bought the VIP package first when season 2 happened and I knew how much I loved the game so personally it was worth it to me to support the developers and gain something out of it

Now I haven’t really seen much complaints on the VIP because people more use it as a “hey the game is impossible with out VIP” but the people who say this ive noticed never bought it

For $9.99 each month it is 100%

IT IS NOT WORTH IT!!! Out of everything you get which honestly isn’t much you get some extra free space in jobs and really that’s it and if you choose to use all your job slots for the highest paying you get around 30,500 about a 10,000 difference not really worth it in my opinion

With VIP you also get other things like higher chance of gifts from Jobs which you will not notice one bit, and +20 AP (which if you play the events is sort of useful) as well as extra packages exclusive to VIPs so after paying $9.99 per month you also get more things to buy and that’s about it for VIP now if you really want to get more grim just use your AP and spend it of normal lessons you will get more AP that way

The Story and Kids

This could be all me just complaining and a theory by I wanted to include it anyway

Obviously many people are not even caught up or even playing but as more lessons went on the less interesting the story became to me I don’t know if it’s a me thing but season one was absolutely amazing the once season two came out it was good but not anywhere as good and one

One reason why I think that it to me became almost bland is the amount of kids that is on the app and how sensitive people were if anything bad happens

It’s no secret that the Japanese versions a lot more non-kid friendly for hell’s sake the characters don’t even swear as well as all the colors I feel like to a American audience bright colors is usually marketed towards kids but in other countriesI think many understand that that is not always the case for instance a lot of people will thing in America that anime is all for kids but I mean look at Attack on Titan or Tokyo Ghoul you would not let kids watch that of literal people getting brutally murdered you just don’t see things like that in the West where something looking kid friendly could also be very adult like

Also wtf dose this in the App Store say +12 with Ikemen Vampire and a lot of other games if you have a game rated +17 then there will be a actual pop up that says something along the lines of how “thier could be violence acts and sexual act are you sure you want to instal”

Now the story I’ve seen people point this out but there isn’t really much character development for instance Beel he dose not have a actual personality his personality (fight me on this one) all you really know about him is that he likes food and his family now I could be wrong cuz I’m on lesson 42 but still not much and this is kinda with all the characters except the special ones where the devs really favor and love for story

Some one mentioned how the developers hold back a lot which I agree with 100% they said how when there is character development they all the sudden pull back and never will almost talk about it again like ???? So there’s this constant bland story

——————-

Honestly if you liked this I might do more cuz as much as this post made me especially at the end I kinda liked ranting so...yeah there is also many other things that I want to rant about but I’m tired soooo

feel free to comment your opinions btw

Bye ima go sleep now

[mementomori-demimonde]

Old Wounds

Hidden Scars: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII - XVIII - XIX - XX

Bonus Chapter (21):

Three years ago, you broke up with Miranda.

Or, to better say, three years ago, Miranda broke up with you.

After escaping Victor’s grasp and embarking on the flight headed to England, Miranda thought it was best for the two of you to be constantly moving around.

She easily procured fake IDs and documents and, as Mrs. & Mrs. O’Brien (so lame that you loved it), you checked in the most expensive hotels and made a mess of the room, only to be off the next day. Every bill was paid and the staff generously tipped, even though the money didn’t certainly come from your pockets as you didn’t have any: you found out it was fairly easy to transfer money around and trick the systems; at least all those hacking software lessons had proven useful, though you weren’t up to anything illegal - it was a matter of survivance, that was what you told yourself. 

Life was wild and exciting, every morning you were someone slightly different while remaining the same, every night you got lost in the scent of her, only to be woken up by her fingers exploring your body.

Miranda was never satiated. And while it was only a matter of sex, before, there was something addicting, now, that flickered between the two of you.

It was something you thought was unbreakable. Something so rare to be born in such a hostile condition that it would be so hard to kill that nobody would even try to.

You thought.

Miranda lit up the day you reached Glasgow.

You could see her eyes gleaming, you could see her sharp fangs shining at the pale light of the sun as she dragged you around, showing you this and that, telling you about her childhood while turning a child herself, innocent and carefree and happy enough to be pulling you in and kiss you in the middle of the road.

You stayed in Glasgow for five months after that, because she thought you were both safe.

You decided to rent a small apartment next to the theater because, apparently, Miranda loved the theatre and you loved discovering things about her just as much as you loved watching her glow as she watched the show and the people acting or the orchestra playing.

You even convinced her to take yoga classes and, except for a couple of smashed glasses when she thought a waiter was ogling you, and an exploded pillow when her football team lost to the rigors, she seemed to have learned how to manage her anger pretty well.

Even her part-time job as a dog-sitter helped her keep her calmness, even to balance with the frustration she would accumulate during her other job as a consultant; of what, you never worked it out completely, you simply knew it was something to do with finance, probably internationally. Miranda didn’t like to talk about it excessively - the pay was good, she seemed satisfied with it - so you let her be.

As for you, when the first opportunity came out, you accepted it right away: as a receptionist of a luxury hotel, you had a fair amount of working hours, perfectly timed with Miranda, and you were able to bake breakfast for the both of you, pack your lunch boxes and be back before her to prepare dinner when Miranda didn’t surprise you, instead, with some take out and a lit candle.

She uncovered a nice, unexpected side of her, but sometimes she still was the scary old Miranda, even when it wasn’t necessary, to your opinion.

Whenever she acted bad, you served her a banana on a plate instead of a nice dinner you baked, to commemorate the first meal she had you eat. Miranda would pout, eat the banana in silence, and ask for forgiveness between the freshly cleaned sheets. This worked the other way around too, of course, with the exception that she enjoyed herself a little too much, sometimes, prolonging the punishment to something more than just a banana for dinner. Either way, everything was solved in bed. Not that you complained about this method, of course.

You thought you couldn’t be happier; but you thought you could never be any less happy either, and, of course, you were wrong.

It was a casual question you blurted out without much thought.

One night, you were watching a cheesy movie on tv, just for the fun of hearing her complain while she had her legs slung over yours, silently demanding for cuddles she would never admit to be requesting. As the couple on the screen kissed and cried happily, you said “have you ever thought about marriage?”

Miranda froze. You tried to explain that it meant nothing in particular, it was just conversation, but something in her eyes had changed.

She never answered the question.

Days went by and you could tell that something had painfully shifted between the two of you.

You tried to take it back, make her forget with some rough nights, just like she used to like it, but nothing worked.

Miranda wasn’t the same.

And then, one morning she was simply gone, without a single explanation. 

After twelve days of waiting, you made peace with yourself that Miranda wouldn’t be coming back.

You started to hate everything you loved so quickly that even going out in the streets and hearing all those people talking Scottish made you sick, so taking the next decision wasn’t too hard, after all: you told Cecilia to mind the tabby cat Miranda pulled out a stray dog’s jaws and brought home for you to heal, vacated the apartment hotfoot and accepted the job as head manager of the hotel subsidiary in Rome, Italy.

 After a few weeks, you realized the change was exactly what you needed: Rome was amazing, you like the people and, most of all, the food. You even decided to join a gym so you could keep eating the delicious meals the hotel chef cooked for the staff and when the weather was good, you went for a run, early in the morning, enjoying the sight of the city lazily waking up. Late in the night, before going to bed, you would flick your tear-drop-shaped dagger and put it in the top drawer in the nightstand, only to wear it the next day, because now you felt naked without its cold blade pressing against your leg. You dropped the habit of wearing it on your thigh - it wasn’t practical with your work attire - but strapped to your calf or pocketed inside your boot. You hated yourself for it, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to convince yourself it was just in case you had to defend yourself - it was sensible since you had to walk by yourself most of the time.

All things considered, you fit in well.

Your apartment is good, with a nice view on the Tevere, the pay is almost double the one in Glasgow and you can allow yourself some treats, from time to time, whenever you feel too blue to stay in the apartment by yourself.

You contemplated the idea of getting a pet for a time, but you decided against it since that too would awaken sour thoughts.

You tried to date for a while, but nobody was enough.

Nobody compared to her.

Despite everything Miranda did to you, her memory was latched to your brain like a plague.

It still is.

Sometimes, only some heavy drinking can get her out of your head.

 You weren’t on duty tonight, and while you’re coming back from a peaceful stroll, your colleague calls: there has been a great fuss in the hotel; he tells you about ambulances and police cars hurrying with the sirens blaring to arrest some psycho that attacked a woman in her room. A guy was shot, but you don’t register much about the events, nor do you ask for further information, eager to drop the argument and avoid some unpleasant memories rising in your mind. Guns, people attacking other people, blood… It’s all in the past.

Hurrying up the stairs and fishing in your purse for the keys, you barely notice that the door lock is slightly scratched.

You don’t pay attention to it, nor the way your key slides inside the hole, until you step inside your home, pawing at the switch, and the light doesn’t work.

Immediately, all your senses turn on, your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, your ears eager to capture the smallest sound.

It’s the hair on the back of your neck that puts you in alarm. Rising for an imperceptible breath of wind, they notify of the imminent danger.

The next thing you feel is a strong arm wrapped around your throat, and a warm body pressed against your back.

The attacker clearly knows what they’re doing, but you do too.

Everything she taught you is stuck in your brain, branded on your bones.

In a flash, you lift your dominant leg just enough to grab the knife.

You plunge it into your attacker’s thigh without hesitation.

She - it’s a she - grunts in anger.

The hold of her elbow softens, her arm slides from your neck, her body moves abruptly from yours as she limps away, leaving you alone and scared, but in complete control of yourself.

“My, my. I am getting sloppy.” The voice sends chills down your spine. It’s warm, it’s smug, almost amused, and familiar. Terribly familiar.

Your heart, despite yourself, throbs painfully.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes from your lips.

“Good.” She says, “very good, m’eudail.”

Whatever doubt you might’ve had, now it’s completely gone. It’s not your mind playing tricks, associating a familiar event with a lost person, this is happening for real. Running away from England to another country, taking a new name, a new identity, rebuilding your life almost from zero has served you nothing: she still has found you.

“Miranda?”

Three years.

Three years you haven’t heard from this woman.

Three years you’ve tried to push it out of your head.

Three years of pretending it was just a nightmare.

Three years and she’s back as if it’s nothing, standing in your apartment like she owns the place. She does, in a way. Miranda still owns you, in the first place, whether you like it or not: it’s not your choice to make. Until Miranda decides to let you go, you’re hers. It’s inevitable. And you know, you feel it in your guts, that Miranda will never let you go.

Some exchange rings, some jump over an old broom; your ‘until death do us part’ was a carving in the shape of an M - not on wood or marble, but on flesh - and you wonder how could she be so scared of marriage in the first place if she, too, has made a promise for life.

She comes into the light pouring in from the windows: it’s sunset, and the streetlight has just been lightened up.

Like it’s no big deal, you watch her bend down and wrap her fingers around the handle of the knife and, with a quick motion, she pulls it out from her wounded flesh with minimum bleeding.

With a wince, you notice that her trousers are already stained with dried blood, mixing with the fresh one.

She straightens her back and bares her teeth into a crooked smile, her split lip glistening with droplets of crimson. It looks painful. She doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Her cheekbone is blooming with blue and purple, her throat bears a sore line around. Miranda wears her bruises as if it was makeup, proud and confident. And, oh, so beautiful like the night before she left.

You can’t help but feel concerned, which only adds to your frustration: you shouldn’t care about her, you shouldn’t feel so strongly about the blood running down her chin - she probably deserves it, and more - but you do care.

You watch her, powerless, as she stumbles toward the couch and lets herself fall unceremoniously on top of it, grunting as her bruised body slackens against the soft pillows. Her shirt is stained as well, her knuckles scraped.

“You’re beaten up.” You dumbly point out.

She lets out a dark chuckle and lolls her head back. Your eyes are drawn to the rhythmic movements of her throat as she swallows. You can almost taste the iron inside your own mouth - how many times she’s kissed you after a training session, how many times your sweat mingled with hers when you wondered if you were fighting or fucking.

It all felt so long ago and, still, it hurt like it was yesterday.

“Tried my best, but you can’t expect the featherweight to win against the heavyweight without a significantly favorable weapon. He was just a bigger psycho than me: came out on top, in the end.” Miranda murmurs, a smug expression deforming her features. “Victor, on the other hand-”

The name has your head spinning. His ugly mouse-face comes to visit on the blurry surface of your mirror every time you shower, the rough lines crossing your back are a distant yet a painful reminder of those days of imprisonment, confined in that small room with Miranda, uncovering her past, her job, her boss and his despicable ways. Those marks hurt, but not as much as it hurts the one on your left shoulder - not until now.

“You’ve gone back to work for him?”

After all you’ve been through, after all the pain he inflicted, after she promised to have him killed because he took it out on you, Miranda decided to still work with him. Betrayal didn’t even compare to what you felt.

How many things can change in three years? You lived a lifetime in two months, since Miranda kidnapped you. Three years, right now, are an eternity.

Miranda’s smile drops. Her blue eyes wander aimlessly around the room, stopping in a dark corner. They aren’t focused, but it’s easy for you to see the regret blaring in her lost gaze.

“It was what I am,” Miranda murmurs, her voice emotionless, “it was the only thing I knew.”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you. It feels like forever before you move your first step toward the couch, your gaze fixed on her as if you were trying to control a snake about to snap its vicious attack.

You know Miranda won’t move, not to attack you anyway, but you’re cautious when you speak.

“You’re talking in the past tense.”

“He’s dead now.” Miranda breathes out heavily. Her voice almost overlaps yours, as if she’s completely zoned out, not listening at all, unaware of her surroundings, as impossible as it seems. “I killed him, gave him what he deserved.”

The sheepish look she gives you is the sparkle that lits your flame. It doesn’t matter if Victor is dead now, the memories still haunt your dreams, and Miranda has gone back to work for him.

You feel cheated on, betrayed, and you still don’t know what she wants from you. Frustration builds up from within until you feel like exploding.

You would smack her and shake her by her shoulders if she wasn’t so bruised - and if she’d let you, of course, before succumbing to her strong arms and be stopped by force.

“Miranda, why are you here?” You would ask her to leave, tell her you can’t stand her sight… if only that was true. Angered beyond words by her persistent silence, you walk to her with heavy steps, until you’re in front of her, for the first time, towering her small figure on the couch. She looks frail, harmless, submissive, but you know she’s not any of those things. “Miranda-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know how she’s managed that - if she’s pulled you down by the collar of your shirt, or hooked her fingers in your belt, or even hit the back of your knees with her foot - but you’re falling right onto her, like the controlled destruction of a building, collapsing right where the demolition expert planned. You try to catch yourself with one hand on either side of her head, fingers clawing the soft pad of the back cushion, even if it’s not necessary: of course, Miranda has caught you first.

Although ‘catch’ is not entirely correct. Her greedy fingers are grabbing your head, pulling more than supporting, and before you can realize what’s happening, her lips are on your mouth.

Oh, God, how much you missed her.

It’s not a nostalgic kiss, she’s not asking for forgiveness or awakening long-lost memories. Her lips are urgent, almost aggressive.

It’s like those three years never went by, as if a lot of things never happened: this one isn’t Miranda, but the mysterious woman who kidnapped you in the alley; she’s back to that unhinged creature that tortured you in the most pleasant ways, who turned a cage into paradoxical heaven where wrong was right and the pain was pleasure.

Too easily you fall back into the addicting spiral that bound you to her. You’re completely at her mercy, once again, with no power nor will to pull yourself out of it. Despite everything, you want more of her kisses, you want more of her touches, you want more of her, no matter if she’s rough or brutal - something of Miranda is still better than nothing.

Hungry hands travel fast from your face to your neck and, for a moment, you prepare to hold your breath thinking she will wrap her fingers around your throat to have you squirm in her lap, desperate for air, just to assert her total control, but you’re wrong. Miranda doesn’t stop: she paws possessively at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the coarse fabric - you hate a little how your body seems to react regardless of your mind, answering to her touch in all the right ways.

You always take minutes to remove your uniform, Miranda hasn’t taken more than one to leave you in your undergarments, confused and wondering if you were actually wearing something before she claimed ownership over you and your body, like always, like she was entitled since the beginning.

Her mouth travels fast, in tow, she nibbles and lavishes, sending electric sparks to your core.

You don’t dare speak, afraid that the spell will break, that you’ll wake up from a dream even though you don’t remember falling asleep, even if it feels real, so real, almost too real that you can’t bring yourself to renounce it.

The tip of her nose tickles the valley of your breasts when she kisses her way down your stomach and belly, her nails scratch dully at the small of your back, pulling your knickers down in one move.

You’ve never noticed how chill your apartment can be. Or maybe you’ve never been so hot before, within these walls.

Her mouth knows exactly where to tease you, her tongue touches all the right places and only in the right ways. Her body remembers everything, and at the same time, it feels new. She tastes you, pursuing the depths of you, almost as if she wants to drown right there and then.

Bare and vulnerable, you don’t even perceive the typical powering position on top of her; Miranda is always on top, also when she’s not.

You can only arch over her as she draws a hurried orgasm out of you, leaving you raw and trembling, your mind spiraling from contentment, nostalgia, and a deep sense of guilt and then back again, when her tongue doesn’t stop until she isn’t satisfied with a second climax, and a third.

It’s easy to lose count when Miranda is having her way. It’s easy to get lost and losing track of time and of yourself, it’s easy to set aside everything to chase her with your hips, desperate for everything and in everything.

She doesn’t allow you to catch your breath when she’s done. You barely catch a glimpse of her when she pulls away, working her jaw to relieve the soreness that has surely set in her muscles, but her eyes are elusive, disappointing you when you hoped to look at her and find the woman you know.

It’s just another confirmation that she is still somewhere else, at least in spirit.

You’ve learned to know her strength, despite her petite size, and yet you can’t prevent the surprised gasp that escapes your mouth when she pushes you off of her and into the couch on your front, so fast that you gape at the pillow below.

You struggle to adjust your head and tilt it to the side when you feel her climb on your thighs, her ripped legs grabbing yours with vicious force when she lowers herself, and despite being fully clothed, you can feel the heat from her core right below your bottom, where she sits.

You swallow in anticipation, shiver when her nails rake at your skin, and then, then everything stops. She pauses.

You feel all the tension leave the room like the fog lifting from the streets.

Her legs are looser when she shifts lower on your thighs, her hands are softer when she glides her fingers up the small of your back and they linger, for a moment too long, across your shoulder blades.

You want to say something, even say her name again, listen to your own voice calling Miranda while still striving to breathe, wearied by the pleasure her skilled tongue has brought you. But as soon as you take a small breath to speak, a startling weight on your back knocks the air out of your lungs.

You take a moment to comprehend that Miranda has leaned on the top of you, her chest rises and falls rhythmically against your back, her breath tickles your left shoulder and you blink at the fact that her cheek is probably resting on her carved initial, and not just by chance.

You mentally count three seconds in, three seconds out. Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Had to find you.”

It’s a murmur, barely a whisper, so small you even doubt you heard it for real or just in your head.

“What?”

You try to squirm from below, eager to watch her face, read in her eyes if she’s making fun of you in the cruelest of ways or not. Her voice has tricked you on many occasions… or not. Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it’s better for both of you if you can’t cage into each other’s eyes.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relax your muscles, stop your hands from scrambling in the purchase of a steady surface to push yourself up and Miranda off of you.

It’s better this way: she won’t talk, otherwise.

“Thought I could do it.” She sighs, her lips move on your skin, leaving a moist halo around her lips. “Thing is… that I could.”

“You’re talking about-”

“Glasgow.” She snaps. You feel her clenching her jaw tight. “When we lived together.”

“You’re scared that you could live normally?”

Silence.

“You don’t understand.” She huffs. “People like me can’t usually walk away whenever they please and forget about their pasts.”

“But you did.” You retort. “We were fine.”

Miranda chuckles. It’s a bittersweet one, and it ends quickly.

 “I was doing fine before you came.” She clarifies. It clarifies nothing, but you don’t dare to interrupt, fearing she’ll just walk away for good. “There’s a reason why so many have failed. No one was able to ruin me while I ruined them. No one was you.”

You can breathe easily now that Miranda has rolled off of you.

You turn to your side quickly, eager to follow her with your eyes and make sure she won’t take the door and never come back after such a declaration. Rare have been the times you’ve heard Miranda talk in such ways and you can only imagine what is the prelude for: something fatally bad, or something impossibly good.

In the forced darkness of your apartment, the blue of her eyes glows at the dim reflection of the streetlights.

Her voice echoes in your head.

When you initiate the kiss you’re surprised she doesn’t pull back. She doesn’t even complain. She doesn’t grab your face or the back of your neck, she doesn’t claim the lead.

It’s startling, and it’s a foreign sensation you’re not used to, at all.

You barely register the soft rustle of fabric as you chase her taste and mingle it with yours.

And then finally you feel her hands on yours, her slender fingers reaching for yours and sliding almost perfectly in between, like pieces of a puzzle.

She swallows your breathy moan.

You haven’t expected your hands to be drawn closer to the warmth of her body. She lets her fingers move to your wrists, she lets them loop around the protruding bone there - she doesn’t squeeze, she doesn’t pull nor push - leaving your pads free to roam over her stomach, through the small crack of her shirt, gliding over the taut skin of her abdomen. You feel new bumps, new scars perhaps.

She squirms when you push a little too hard against her hip bone.

Or, maybe, she doesn’t exactly squirm.

You feel her adjust, raising her pelvis off the couch, but not to ease discomfort.

Your fingertips slip easily beyond the band of her high-waist trousers.

Miranda doesn’t move.

She’s even stopped the kiss, letting you decide.

It’s an open invitation - a request, perhaps - to touch her, properly, like you’ve been asking, for weeks, silently, before you decided to voice your thoughts and your feelings. 

Everything went downhill from there.

Your breath catches, the long-awaited moment feeling so terrifying, now, that you can’t bring yourself to just stop thinking and follow your guts, your innermost desires, to claim what has been denied to you for so long.

Miranda wouldn’t have hesitated. She didn’t hesitate to take when she wanted and could.

Thing is, you’re not her.

You pull away from her in a blink, your fingers tingle with unsatisfied electricity when you hide your face in your hands.

“Miranda.” You growl. Your voice comes out muffled from behind your palms. You’d want to yell at her, berate her, but it only comes out desperate, you sound on the verge of crying. Maybe you are. “What are you doing?”

Her hands are touching your wrists again. She’s gentle. More than she’s ever been. She forces you to unpeel your hands from your face.

In the dim light from the streetlights, her eyes shine again. They seem full of unshed tears, but you don’t want to fool yourself with dull illusions that don’t belong, with every possibility, to either of you.

Miranda doesn’t talk. You know it, you can see it, there’s a whole universe of things she’s dying to say, and still… she doesn’t speak.

You let out a shaky breath, sit lower on her legs, your gazes locked.

“Miranda, what’s your point?” You try again, softer this time.

She opens her mouth to speak then, only to close it soon after with a frustrated sigh.

You can’t endure more of it. You’re too spent to keep playing.

Miranda speaks only when you push yourself off of her, trying to stand up.

“My point is- I’m done.” She huffs out a disbelieving chuckle as if it’s the first time she’s told that, to herself even; the first time she’s truly grasped the idea and made it final. “I’ve got tons of money now and I can leave it all behind.”

“Miranda-”

“We can leave it all behind.” She corrects. One of her hands slithers to the small of your back, pushing you down to keep you near. It’s confident but for the first time, somehow, it’s not possessive. “Start over, for real.”

You swallow a mouthful of sand. Your head is spinning. You even wonder if something has possessed Miranda’s body and has turned her into some normal person who is actually repentant and is willing to start over.

How much can a person change in three years? Does it also apply to Miranda? The rules of mortals apply to such mysterious creatures like her?

You’re about to ask for a moment when you hear a distinct mew.

“What the fuck-” You startle, snapping your head toward the kitchen. It’s hard to see, but there’s definitely something on the counter. A box, maybe a crate. With something furry poking out. “You brought the cat?!”

Miranda’s lips are crooked into a sheepish smile when you look back at her.

“Please?” She whispers. Her voice is velvety against your lips, so close you could answer with a kiss. “What do you say?”

Maybe you will answer with a kiss.

Maybe.