#ive only seen this happen like. 3 times since i started keeping track of tags almost 2 years ago

[orcelito]

Wow persona 5 is actually trending. Good job y'all

[the-bjd-community-confess]

More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

/s

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous 

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

[chanelhamitlon]

but its always been you|| Thomas Jefferson x Reader

word count: 1550

warnings: cusing, lack of proofreading, mentions of death

A/N: my first Thomas fic🙈 (Modern AU like most of them) Idk how collage works pls 😭

Inspiration: Youuu - COIN (its really good omg)

QUICK NOTE: the cuts are usually to switch between y/n and thomas

tell me if you wanna be in my permanent tag list :))

Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.

"Jefferson,Thomas". He walked up the stage to receive his much deserved diploma. Four years of extensive studying just for this moment. He looked at the crowd and as if the world suddenly stopped. He focused on this one person. She had a camera up to her face, her hair glistening in the daylight. He looked like her as if he had seen a ghost. He snapped out of it as she lowered her camera. His girlfriend, of course. She smiled at him as the announcer calls on the next graduate. He walked down and towards her. Now that he thinks about it, he'd gaze out to her like this multiple times now, but he feels this is not because of her herself. He saw someone else in her. A high school sweetheart perhaps. He might've seen the gold flakes in her e/c colored eyes as he did with Y/n. He was sure he had long forgotten about her. She was special, sure but as high school sweethearts go, they stay in high school. He was convinced the countless exes he'd have were all to drown out her calling out for him once more. Just one more time at least. He'd like to think that moving to the other side of the world also helped with the cause. That was his number one priority; to forget about the one year they spent together.

You always thought that it wasn't anyone's fault that you and Thomas broke up. It was just not in anyones best interest to keep it going after high school and if the feelings last, he'd always say that he will find you. You lost faith that he'd come back of course. Whatever goes on in high school, stays in high school. You would go on several dates with people in college but you would always find yourself comparing them to Thomas. You focused on your studies, everyone telling you that you were smart; 'If only they knew how much I know about the things that really matter'.

You look at the clock '12:34 am'. Graduation was tomorrow or later. You were trying to fall asleep, and quickly at that, but you can't refrain from overthinking. Every scenario running through your head in a fast pace. Every outcome possible, you could have saved that relationship. Were you thinking of going back to New York to find him? It was nice as it is in California. You had your essentials, a good connection to your family online, but it was never really enough. You needed him.

The day came through fast paced. You would think that one of the most important milestones in live would be savored by time, running slowly. It was the opposite, time was never forgiving of you, years came by in a glimpse. You still felt like a kid, just not now. Graduation had such a surreal feeling to it, no one was never obliged to finish school of course, but you would think that something this sentimental would finally saturate the world with colors.

At the bus ride to downtown San Fransisco, your mind drifted off with ease. The music flowing to your ears made you feel like you were in a music video, those artsy kinds who would always try to incorporate daily life then proceed with a shot of a glamorous mansion. A song comes on, one of your favorites actually, Youuu by COIN.

' She moves just like you

She tastes like you

But its always been youuu...'

They say that music with certain themes will always trigger memories, flowing back to your brain. Even the ones you could have sworn you have forgotten. Thomas springs in to mind. He was a player in high school, of course he would have found someone new by now. That year was still pretty vivid to you though. All the sneaking around, all your firsts, the mini get togethers turned dates. You remember everything.

"Hey do you want to go out on Saturday?"Thomas' voice echoes through the walls of the almost room. He was staying with his girlfriend for the meantime since her parents were to insist on them 'not spending money on property' yet. Although Thomas was to never have a problem with money, his family was filthy rich at that. He was still deciding whether to stay here, with his girlfriend, in the suburbs, content with a stable income job; or to his family in New York City, a corporate job, and maybe even to you.

"What's the occasion?" Her voice sweetly said. Running her hands through his curls. "I wanna see you dance again." He said with a light chuckle. She laughed, "Come on... I don't dance THAT bad". He enjoyed moments like this. He truly did. The light touching and cuddling, just enjoying each others presence. He knew that she was human and he was truly sorry. He was sorry that she was being played like a pawn in the game of life. He was sorry that this was temporary. He was sorry that he was looking for someone. And he is sorry that that sorry that that someone wasn't her. They both noticed that the vinyl record had stopped playing. She stood up and changed the track record. Thomas sat up and looked at her. Her back was faced towards him. 'Even her silhouette reminds him of you' . The decision is clear then.

You started working a minimum wage job to pay the bills. You live in an apartment, sharing a space with your roommate, Reese. She was kind enough as it is, you both treated each other like family. She got you through when you were looking for a job. Now paying her back, you got her a little cake to celebrate her birthday. Going home from the cake shop, you stopped your tracks to see a rather tall man in the street, he was talking to someone on his phone. 'It couldn't possibly be him'. You wanted to think rationally at that moment, but you were overtaken by your emotions. You lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to reveal a completely different person. You quickly apologized to the person. You weren't lying to yourself at this point, you were pretty devastated that it wasn't him.

Unlocking your apartment door, you heard mild sobs in the far left to you. That was your roommate's room. You closed the door and headed straight to her door. Knocking three times, you opened the door to a disheveled Reese, frantically grabbing tissues.

"What happened?" You were still going to approach her, mildly forcing her into toxic positivity. You were ready to listen to her. "I'm moving out." In your role as her roommate, this was the only thing that should concern you, but you were close and so you thought that something had happened at home. "My dad died. I'll move home and live there from now on." You understand completely that that was what she needed to do. You offer to help her on countless things of course. That night was one of the gloomiest in the apartment. You slowly watched her pack away most of her stuff, sulking away most days, above all that, conversation halted and was now a thing of the past.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Trying to make conversation at dinner, Thomas' girlfriend asked him to whether they would actually last or not. Long distance never really works for anyone, might as well rip the band-aid off now. Thomas looked like he was burried in a million thoughts, he looked at her apathetically, without an answer. They ate away the evening, they were the opposite of this lively restaurant. She looked at him, wanting to ask him more; what's are you thinking is at risk? what's weighing your shoulders down? is there 'a someone'?

Just as Thomas was to suggest leaving the restaurant and just saying sorry for the melancholy he brought to the evening, she stood up and suggested a dance. 'That's what they came for anyway.' He gladly accepted and took the lead, whisking her away to the dance floor. There were about 3 other couples around them, lost in their own world. He wants to think rationally, he doesn't want to loose his mind and let his emotions seep through his walls. They were slow dancing now. 'She really feels like y/n'.

"Who's y/n and why do I feel like her?"

Thomas froze. He accidentally said it out loud. There's no stoping it now, just tell her the truth; rip the band aid off.

"She's a girl I used to date in high sc-"

"Every relationship in high school stays in high school Thomas. grow up"

Thomas didn't know what to say.He didn't know why that sentiment ticked him off that way. He didn't know why his body was suddenly in flames. He didn't know what to say so all he did was run; run far away. She didn't understand. If you would've explained where you came from she would. No, she wouldn't.

Just before they reach the car she caught up to him. He turned around looking so distraught.

"Ive made up my mind."

part 2 👀?

[thisgirl-writes]

Professor’s Assistant - Part 6

Summary: College Junior, Sophie starts to develop a crush on her Political Science professor. Will it drive a wedge between her boyfriend Cody and her? Will it stay just a silly admiration?

Word Count: 1,626

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: Niamh is pronounced “nee + iv”. It’s Irish. It means “radiance, lustre, brightness." The daughter of the sea god Manannan” 

Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sunlight shines through the apartment window, making you groan at the brightness. You realized that you had slept on the couch and that Tori was asleep in the chair next to you. You tried to pull the blanket back over your head to block out the sun that was coming through the windows.

You were almost asleep again when you heard the rustling of pots and pans in the kitchen. The events of last night are a little bit fuzzy, you don’t really remember much after dancing to a couple songs with Tori, who was now waking up in the chair.

“Cody can you please keep it down? My head is killing me” You mumbled as you rubbed your temple in attempts to ease the pounding in your head.

“Well whose fucking fault is that?” Cody replied loudly as he started purposefully banging pots and pans together to create more noise.

“Please, stop, please?” you attempted again, almost begging this time. Cody ignored your pleas and kept making noise. “Cody, what are you making for breakfast?” You asked giving up on getting him to do things quietly.

“I’m making ME bacon and eggs. I don’t know what the fuck you two are having” 

“Seriously Cody?”

“Well if you can be out all night, you can fix your own breakfast.”

Just then, Tori sat up, looking sleep deprived and pissed off.

“The LEAST you could do is be quiet while your girlfriend and her guest are trying to sleep, since you aren’t going to be a good host and make breakfast for everyone.” Tori stated.

“No one asked you! Who even said you could fucking stay here” Cody fired back at Tori.

“Listen here fucker, I stayed to make sure my best friend was okay while your sorry ass was sleeping.” Tori yelled back.

“I was sleeping because it was 3 in the fucking morning when you brought her drunk ass back! She should have never been out with you!”

“Oh! So, this is my fault now?”

“Enough! The both of you! Can’t you just get along for once?” You plead in attempts to get the two most important people in your life to stop arguing.

“Soph, I’m sorry. I’ll leave now” Tori said as she pulled you into a hug. “You know you can always come stay with me” she mentioned just loud enough for you to hear. You simply nodded and hugged her back.

“Good riddance, bitch” Cody says to Tori as she walks out the door.

“So lovely to see you again, dickhead hope to see you never”

You sighed heavily as Tori walked out the door. You still didn’t remember how the two of you got home last night, you had every intention of texting her later and asking her.

You made yourself a cup of coffee and some toast as you prepared yourself for the argument that was about to happen. Lately it seemed like the two of you had not been on the same page. A few small disagreements were normal, but they were never this intense and never this frequent.

“Cody, please just say something?” You asked him as you sat down at the small kitchen table that seemed to fit perfectly in the apartment you shared. Cody ignored you and kept staring at his phone. “At least look at me?” Once again, Cody ignored you still. Whatever was on his phone was apparently more important that talking out your issues. You made one more attempt to get his attention. “CODY JAMES FUCKING LOOK AT ME” You yelled as you slammed you closed fist on the table causing his coffee mug bounce off the edge of the table hitting the floor.

“What the actual fuck Sophie?”

“I was trying to get your attention so we could talk instead of you staring at your damn phone all morning” You shot back.

“Maybe I don’t want to fucking talk right now!”

“Cody, we need to talk about whatever this is that is causing us to argue right now!”

“You know what the problem is!” He yelled back at you. You just stared blankly at him, clearly not know what he was referring to. “Don’t play stupid right now”

“I’m not playing, I don’t know what the fuck you are so pissed off about!” You shouted back as you stood up from the table.

“Of course, you do! It’s about her!”

“Tori?”

“Yes her! Every time you hang out with her something happens”

“You are overreacting right now, and besides she is my best friend!”

“So, she’s a bad influence on you!” Cody shouted.

You had enough of him trashing your only friend. You turned to walk away when you felt his hand take hold of your wrist. Instinctively, you shook your arm trying to loosen his grip.

“Let go of me Cody!” You shouted back at him, still trying to break his grasp on your wrist.

“You started this, You’re the one who wanted to talk. You DO NOT get to walk away from me. Not right now!” His grip tightened as he spoke.

“CODY JAMES LET GO OF ME NOW!” You screamed as you continued to try to escape his grasp.

“Listen here Sophia Niamh, you wanted to talk, so we will fucking talk, and that means you aren’t going anywhere until we are finished!” His tone was almost sinister, a tone that you have never heard him use before. It was enough to stop you in your tracks.

“If you would let go of my fucking arm then we can talk.”

“Fine, then let’s get to the bottom of this shit then”

It seemed the hours had passed before either one of you spoke a single word. Both of you needed that silence to calm down from the scene that just happened in the apartment. You opened your mouth to speak but Cody cut you off.

“Are we gonna talk or sit here in silence until one of us falls asleep”

“Well, you’re the one who seems to have issues, so talk” You spat at him

“Oh c’mon Soph. This is bullshit”

“No, it’s not. Just tell me why you were so mad last night/this morning?” You finally asked while looking from you new cup of coffee. Cody rolled his eyes at the question. You sat in silence, just waiting for his answer. “Cody, I asked you a question.” 

“I know I heard.”

“Then what’s your answer?”

Cody released a heavy sigh and stood up from the table and made his way to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

“It is only 12:30 Cody. Do you really need to be drinking right now?”  You asked out of annoyance and concern.

“I do if we are gonna talk about this shit”

“Okay so spill you answer” You pushed for an answer. He rolled his eyes before he started to answer.

“Fine. I don’t like what’s her face”

“She has a name Cody, and she’s my best friend.”

“Well I don’t like her. She is constantly trying to get you to breakup with me” After hearing his response, you got up from your seat and made your way over to him. You wrapped your arms around him before you replied.

“Sweetie, she may have tried, but obviously she hasn’t succeeded, now has she?”

“Well no, but I still don’t like her, and she is a bad influence on you” You rolled your eyes and unlatched your arms from around his waist before you replied.

“Cody, how is she a bad influence? I would have gone out anyway. Who is to say if it wasn’t someone else. Someone who might not have made sure I got home okay!” You defended Tori from Cody’s words.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you to hang out with her again”

“You can’t be serious?!? You can’t stop me from being friends with someone!”

“I can sure as hell try!”

You stopped responding, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Cody was trying to get you to stop hanging out with the only person who hasn’t abandoned you. You just stood there, with an empty stare upon your face. Cody just stared back at you before opening his mouth to speak.

“Fine! I won’t stop you from hanging out with her, but” You didn’t let him finish that sentence.

“But what, Cody? Are you going to tell me I can’t go out in public with Tori now?” The question dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s EXACTLY what I am saying! Only here. Not even her apartment!”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Cody and Tori had never seen eye to eye, and you knew Cody didn’t like Tori, but until right now he had at least tolerated your friendship with her.

“You’re fucking joking, right? Because you do not seriously think that you can limit my friendships!”  You shouted at him.

“I am 100% serious! End of discussion!”

“No not end of discussion, this is not okay Cody!” As you spoke, he took steps towards you.

“It is the end of this discussion because I SAID SO!”  Raising his voice as his reply finished, causing you to take a step back and hit the wall you didn’t realize that you were close too. After a few seconds he took a deep breath before he spoke again, “I’m headed out for a few hours. End of discussion.”

You were at a loss for words. You stood in silence as Cody walked out the door of the apartment. Standing there in the now silent apartment, questions started running through your mind. Was this really the best thing for you? Did Cody mean well, was he right? So many questions, it was starting to make your head spin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@smilexcaptainx @patzammit, @denisemarieangelina, @jbug491

[meghan-huntergirl-winchester]

Safe and Sound (Sister!Reader X Winchester Brothers)

So, this is actually an older piece that I wrote way back in 2014. It was originally only 1600 words and the story was actually very different. I decided to re-write it and make it as accurate as I could with details from the timeline of the show. I was still very new to Supernatural back in 2014 (I had only made it through season 2 at that point. I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2501 (Damn I got carried away!)

Rolling over in my bed with a groan, I peeked a glance at my alarm clock sitting on my side table. 6:45am. I hated waking up early on a Saturday! With a small sigh, the covers were flung off and I stood up to stretch. The boys had been gone for about 5 days now. They had adamantly refused to let me tag along this time and as upset as I was, I understood why. They just wanted to keep me safe and if I was being honest, I was not 100% after our last hunt.

Slipping my feet into my bedroom slippers, I made my way out of my room and down the hall towards the boy’s rooms. I stopped at the first door on the right and pressed my ear against it for a moment. When I heard nothing from inside, I gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. Nothing. Pulling the door shut I made my way to Sam’s bedroom only to find nothing as well. The boys are still not home from their hunt. Now I was upset. It had been 5 days now and not once had Sam or Dean contacted me about the case. Was it going so well that they didn’t need any research done? I doubt that. Dean would do anything in the world to get out of the research.

Finally, I decided that it was way too early in the morning to be dealing with this and I made my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Then I would contact the boys myself.

As I filled up the machine with water and coffee grounds, my mind drifted back to when I first met Sam and Dean. We had met when I was only 10.

You see, hunting ran in my family as well. My mother and father were hunters. When my mom found out that she was pregnant with my sister, she quit hunting and eventually so did my father. My parents eventually were able to settle down into a normal life, and two years after my sister was born, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. Fast forward several years to the night of my 10th birthday, a monster broke into my house and killed my parents and my older sister. John Winchester and his friend Bobby had been tracking the monster and they saved me before the monster could hurt me. With the monster dead, John and Bobby tried to figure out what to do with me but since I had no other family members, there was no where for me to go. Bobby took me in and raised me, along with Sam and Dean, who spent more time at Bobby’s than with their dad.

At first it took Dean a while to warm up to me. We became a lot closer when he realized that he had someone his own age to help take care of Sam. Sam and I instantly bonded over our love of books and learning. It helped that I was not nearly as tough on him as Dean sometimes was. As we got older, the three of us grew even closer when John and Bobby would take us all on hunts together. I had finally started to heal after losing my own family, because I had a new family, one who would protect each other from everything.

One day, John came back to Bobby’s place only this time, Sam wasn’t with him. John had his version of what happened, and Dean had his. I had never seen Dean so upset and heartbroken in my life. Sam had gotten into Stanford and had tried to tell his dad about it. John had instantly gotten defensive and accused Sam of not wanting to find the demon that killed Mary. They had argued and John finally told Sam to leave and never come back. My heart broke for Dean. We lost something that day, a little piece of me died as another member of my family left me.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I frowned as the memory of Sam leaving came to mind. I don’t know why I had started to reminisce about the past, but sometimes it was nice to take a little trip down memory lane, even if some of the memories weren’t always happy ones.

I had some cleaning to do around the bunker before the boys came home. If they didn’t return tonight, I was going to have to go hunt them down myself. Finishing off my coffee, I set the cup in the sink to wash later and headed back towards my bedroom so that I could change out of my pajamas. I opened up my closet and happened to glance up at the top shelf. Sitting there was my old guitar. It was the only thing I had taken from my house after that horrible night. The guitar had been my fathers. He gave it to me that night as my birthday gift along with the promise of teaching me to play.

I popped open the latches and pulled the guitar out of its case and just looked at it. It had been so long since I had last played it. Placing the strap over my head, I positioned the guitar in my lap and placed my fingers on the fret board. With just a strum or two, memories flooded back to me of teaching myself how to play up in my room at Bobby’s house. With a quick tune and some more strumming, the guitar was finally ready to play again. My fingers fell into what fell like a natural place and I strummed the E minor scale. As I strummed, a song that my mother used to sing to me as a kid came to mind.

I remember tears streaming down your face

When I said, “I’ll never let you go”

When all those shadows almost killed your light

I remember you said, “Don’t leave me here alone”

But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

As I sang, flashback to a rough hunt that Dean and I had been on together came to mind. It was one of our first cases without John or Bobby. We were probably about 18 years old and John was out chasing a clue towards finding the yellow eyed demon that killed Mary while Dean and I handed what was supposed to be just one or two vampires.

*flashback*

“DEAN!” I screamed as I took off in a run. John had sent us to Louisiana for a small vampire case. It was supposed to be 2 maybe 3 vamps but instead ,we found an entire nest of about 9. We had killed all but 3 vamps and as I swung my machete again, I saw Dean fighting off the leader. As I ran towards them, the third vampire came out of the shadows and sank his fangs into Dean’s neck before tearing away from him. I quickly swung my machete at the leader and beheaded him before turning and taking down the final vamp.

“You’re gonna be okay. Just hang on!” Tears ran down my cheeks as I started to panic. Thinking quickly, I pulled off my flannel and pressed it against his neck to put pressure on the wound. Blood was quickly soaking through the shirt and I was terrified. Dean was scared too; I could see it in his eyes and hear it in the way his words trembled.

“Please don’t leave me alone here.” He whispered to me. The bleeding was slowing but Dean was beginning to lose consciousness. The blood loss was taking its toll on him.

Tears kept falling as I looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’m not going to leave you here!”

“Why are you crying?” His eye lids were starting to droop, and I panicked. Shaking him I tried to keep him awake.

“Hey! Dean! You can’t fall asleep; We have to get you out of here. I’m never gonna let you go and I’m not gonna leave you here. Now get up!”

Dean grunted in pain as I helped him up off the ground. His movements were slow and sluggish, but it was only a few feet to the car. ‘Just get him in the car and then get him to the hospital’ I kept repeating it over and over until we finally arrived at the local medical center.

*end flashback*

Dean had gone into shock by the time we made it to the hospital. I could only watch as doctors rushed him away from me and into surgery. After he had been given a unit of blood, some IV fluids, and had been stitched up, I sat beside his bed that night and waited for him to wake up. I hummed this song to him in hopes that he could hear me and would wake up. When he finally did wake up, I cried in joy because I thought I had almost lost him. I couldn’t take the loss of another person.

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You’ll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I’ll be safe and sound

I remember when Dean and Sam lost their father. Dean had been in the hospital after another hunt had gone wrong. The three of them had been in a car accident after the hunt. I’ll never forget that phone call or the fear that filled my body when I heard what had happened. Bobby tossed his keys to me and I rushed to the hospital as fast as I could but by the time I got there, John was dead. After the boys had been discharged, they told me what had happened. Dean had been trapped outside of his body and a reaper had been after him. John sold his soul and a gun called the Colt to the yellow eyed demon that he had been hunting for so long. His soul for Dean’s life.

There was a war going on outside and only we knew what it was. As hunters, we knew about the things that go bump in the night. There was a war brewing and we were the only soldiers that could fight it.

Don’t you dare look out your window, darling,

Everything’s on fire

The war outside our door keeps raging on

Hold on to this lullaby

Even when music’s gone

Gone

After their father died, Dean and Sam told me all about the demon that their father had been hunting. They told me about their mom and how the demon had killed her and had almost killed Sam. They told me about how their Dad had gotten obsessed with finding it and everything that he had done. Although John was strict with the boys and I, he was still like a father to me. With the loss of John weighing over me, that night I locked myself in my room and just cried. I cried for the loss of John, for the loss of my family, cried with relief that Dean was safe, I just cried.

I couldn’t lose another family member. I didn’t know how much more I could take. If only I had known what the future had held for me, maybe I would have gotten out of hunting because all that was awaiting me in the future was loss and grief.

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You’ll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I’ll be safe and sound

I let the last chord echo thorough out the room as I trailed off on the last few words. I was started by the sound of clapping behind me and I spun around on my bed to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway with small smiled on their faces. I instantly threw my guitar off onto the bed and ran over to give them hugs.

“Careful!” Dean warned and I jumped back before I could touch him.

“It’s okay, just bruised a bit. Just don’t hug too tight.” He chuckled out.

Gently I wrapped my arms around him before moving over to Sam. With a frown ,I pulled back gently before I shot out and smacked both of them on the back of the heads.

“Hey! What the hell!?”

Taking a step back, I put my hands on my hips and glared at both of them.

“5 days?? You couldn’t call and tell me you were alright?”

Sam looked down sheepishly and Dean suddenly found the wall interesting.

“Well?” I said, tapping my foot on the ground

“We ran into a bit of trouble on our way back.” Sam mumbled out, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Sighing I let my hands fall from my hips before I looked at their faces. Looking closely, I could see that both boys had cuts and bruises on their faces.

“Come on and sit down so I can clean you up. Then you can tell me what happened.”

As the boys moved into my room and sat down on my bed, I went into the bathroom only to come out with the first aid kit from under my sink.

“Start at the beginning Sam.” I poured a small amount of peroxide onto a cotton ball and began to dab at one of the cuts on Dean’s forehead. As soon as the cotton ball made contact Dean flinched away like I had stabbed him.

“Really?” I asked in a deadpan voice.

He just crossed his arms with a huff and pouted. Staring for a moment, I broke at his pushed-out lip and started giggling. Instantly he broke into a grin at his successful attempt at making me laugh.

“Alright, alright.” I giggled out. “Tell me what happened.” I began to gently push on dean’s ribs to make sure that nothing was broken before moving over to check Sam.

“We got caught by the police.” Sam mumbled out.

“What was that?”

“I said, we got caught by the cops!”

I just rolled my eyes and kept quiet while they shared their story of what happened. I finished up treating Sam and closed up my first aid kit.

“Well, at least you are home and safe. Why don’t you take showers and change, and I’ll go make us something to eat okay?”

Dean and Sam both cracked a smile before gingerly standing from the bed.

“Thanks, Y /n.” Dean wrapped me in a hug, and I felt him press his lips to the crown of my hair before letting go and heading down the hall. Sam too wrapped me up in a hug before he went towards the showers.

I could finally feel myself relax as my body and brain finally got the message that the boys were okay.

I was so happy they were home, safe and sound.

[morganas-pendragons]

3| T.S.

I’m supposed to be writing a paper, here I am writing more for Endgame. I needed this - It’s my only way of coping. Thank you for the feedback, and enjoy!

CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS - I WILL FIGHT FOR TONY STARKS RIGHT TO BE LOVED UNTIL I AM DEAD

Tag: @robertdownyjrs

***

  “When I come back, you better be here.” His words are spoken with fervor, a desperate promise that he needs you to be able to fulfill. You are the only person in Tony Starks life who has been there since the start, the only one who stayed, and the one he vowed to spend the rest of his life with. 

You have to be there when he comes back from Titan, because he might literally call it quits if you aren’t. You have to. 

Your reply comes in a searing kiss that quite literally makes him weak in the knees. “I already told you, you idiot.” You whisper as you force yourself away from him, lips hovering over his own so closely that he almost wants to take you right then and there. “I love you too much to leave.” 

And unfortunately, he loves you too much to stay, and that is what prompts him to board the ship that will take him to Titan. 

Given what happened during the Civi War between your fiancé and Steve Rogers, you’d give anything to be with him on Titan instead of protecting the outskirts of Wakanda. Steve has vowed to look after you - whatever that means - and somehow lost track of you after the battle, completely oblivious to the fact that you decided to remain with Thor. You and Thor had grown rather close over the last 8 years and often spent time training together when he came to Earth because of the similarities with your powers. 

Your darker nights, the ones where you cried until you couldn’t anymore, were spent in the safety of Thor’s bedroom at the Avengers Compound. Steve still fulfilled his duties and checked in on you just as he had promised he would, but he never went further than that. The man knew you didn’t trust him, and with good reason. 

It’s mere days after the Snap that you feel it, the tremble beneath your feet as you indulge Thor by telling him stories about your life. It distracts you from the lack of Tonys presence, and it distracts him from wallowing in his misery brought upon by the losses he’d endured. 

  “Y/N!” Your gaze flickers upward as Steve sprints into the room and urges you out the bedroom door to the main yard, where a massive ship is being carried by a glowing woman who you are unfamiliar with. She sets it down with ease and meets your gaze, and you give her a firm nod in thanks. 

The hangar door opens, and all the blood drains from your face. The air crackles with static electricity from where you stand before Steve, Natasha, Bruce and Rhodes, completely paralyzed as you watch the occupants of the Benatar file off into the open night. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you resist the urge to sprint across the clearing and jump into his arms. It’s something you’ve had to learn to control, but just seeing Tony standing there actually speaking to Steve sparks something deep within you that urges you forward and across the clearing. 

  “Y/N?” 

Aching arms fling outward to envelop Tony Stark in the most bone crushing hug he’s ever experienced, and it takes all of his willpower not to crumble in your embrace as you whisper in his ear. “Home. Home. Home.” His hands sink into the tresses of your hair, breath ghosting over your skin as he hides his face in the crook of your shoulder. 

The other Avengers don’t bother to pry the two of you apart, not after what you’ve been through. There was no possible way of moving through the despair and anguish without people. Or more specifically, the people you love. 

  “When you need an anchor, you count to three.” In the midst of Tony learning to deal with his anxiety, you’d given him a solution. Of course it had come in the most unconventional way - seated at the bar - and drunk enough to make your head spin. But he was here, warm and alive, and so very... very real. “Count five things about me. Anything goes. Physical traits, things you love about me, things I’ve taught you. If it helps you cope with whatever is plaguing that beautiful mind of yours..” Your fingers curled around the curve of his jaw and brought his eyes up to yours, thumb dragging across the apple of his cheek to settle in the divot of his lips. “You do whatever it takes.” 

  “One, hands that have held my heart since the day you stumbled on my front porch when I was 7 years old.” 

He tries to make nice with Steve, he really does. But after being left for dead in Siberia and alone in the fight against Thanos, Tony holds a considerable amount of resentment for that very same man who had once said that if they were to lose, they’d do that together too. 

You’re always lingering in his line of sight when things go awry, and just as he suspects, you are immediately at his side when he rips the IV from his arm and stumbles in Steves direction. Fury courses through his blood and despite the fact there are stars dancing behind his eyes, Tony still rips out his arc reactor and slams it into the hands of Steve Rogers. 

It’s only when his knees give out from beneath him and he lands on the floor that the second thought comes, when he looks up into your eyes and sees the terror lurking within them just before he slips into unconsciousness.

  “Two, even when I am least deserving, you are always there. Always lingering for that moment when I need you most desperately, and present when I fall to my knees.” 

Recovery is never easy, but having someone there when you wake up makes it just a bit more bearable. 

Shaking fingers extend outward as Tonys eyes slowly flutter open, blinded by the light of dawn as he struggles to adjust to the brightness. His eyes follow the billow of the curtains at the open windows and slowly travel the length of the incredibly bland medical wing up until he catches the TV - where his favorite TV show is softly playing in the background. 

His fingers tighten in the mess of hair laying limply at his bedside. You sleep at Tonys side with your hand loosely wrapped around his calf, almost as if its your only security that he’ll be there when you wake up. Eyes drift over the curve of your parted lips, breaths coming slow and steady. Tony hasn’t seen you sleep so hard since you were younger. 

When life was a little bit easier. 

  “Y/N?” His voice rumbles low in his chest, and its enough to jolt you upward at the sound. Tony nearly topples over the side of the bed because his hands are still tangled in your hair, and the sight of the shock written all over his expression is enough to send you into a fit of laughter. “That was not funny-” 

Your eyes soften as they meet his. “I have never been so happy to see your eyes open in the forty some years we’ve known each other.” You whisper. He can see the reluctance to open up when you dip your head toward your chest, extending your hand outward into the open in hopes he will oblige and take it. 

He does. 

  “I nearly lost you, Tony. All this time after Thanos snapped.. I really believed you were dead. And do you know how disheartening it is to be stuck in another country with people you once called family, left behind by your husband with your only company being the God of Thunder?” You settle a knee into the mattress and bring yourself up to hover over him as he lays supine beneath you. “Seeing everyone disappear, screaming so loudly to someone who might hear me to keep you safe.. I have never experienced true fear like that. Fear of believing that you would never come home.” 

That’s when thought number three comes. Trapped in the cage of your arms, breath ghosting over his face and sunshine reflecting in your eyes. He realizes right there, in that moment of silence, that your presence is the only home he has ever known. 

And that despite your darkness and your regrets, despite his failures to both you and the greater good, you will never part from his side willingly. You are here and real and you are never leaving. It’s the best freakin’ news he’s heard all day. 

  “Y/N, I need-” 

  “What do you need?” 

Tony swallows the knot in his throat and lets his tongue dart out to wet the cracked flesh of his lips. “I need you to kiss me.” It’s spoken with the same desperation you heard before he boarded his ship for Titan. That same desperation that pours from your own mouth when he tries stumbling down a path you can’t follow him on. “Please.” 

It’s hard to pick a word to describe that moment - that moment of solitude where it’s nothing but you and him. How you succumb to his desires and lower yourself on top of him, careful of aggravating his injuries. He arches his back into you as you claim his mouth with your own. Hot, heavy, full of need and the ability to convey the fierce loyalty the two of you held for one another since the day you’d met as young children. 

  “What about you?” 

  “What about me?” 

Tony swirls a single finger around the rim of his glass as you pour yourself another. “Whenever you need a anchor, what will you count to?” You believe he thinks something absolutely ridiculous, like 72 or 191. Something completely unrelated to what you’ve just said. 

  “I’ll count to three too, but for me it’ll be in the moments we pull together instead of apart. When I need you the most.. when I need to breathe, I’ll count to three.” 

His tongue breaks past the seam of your lips and his hands tangle in your hair, and if you listen quietly enough, you can hear someone whimper. You don’t know if it’s him or you. 

It’s only when you are forced to pull apart for air that you whisper, “Three.” 

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

I Know It Hurts But Its Going To Get Better...I promise!

Part 8 of Life Before Him

Ive been so caught up with work that I haven't gotten round to posting but here we go!! finally!! the next part!! I love reading all of your comments, reading how people reacted and felt whilst reading my stories it makes it all worth while! <3 

CATCH UP!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

 MASTERLIST! 

Pairing: Liam x Riley 

Summary: …Riley isn’t sure how to cope with all of the emotions of the past events.

Word Count: 3067

Tagged : @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @drakelover78 @queencatherynerhys @devineinterventions2 @jayjay879  @kawairinrin @hopefulmoonobject @flyawayblue56 @gardeningourmet @blackcatkita @syltti78 @decisso @theroyalweisme @hhiggs @mfackenthal @bruteforcebears @pens-girl-87 @speedyoperarascalparty  @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid​ @darley1101​ @crookedslimecreatorpasta​ @jamjar84​ 

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE! (USED THE TAGS FROM MY “ALWAYS” SERIES LET ME KNOW IF ANYONE WANTS UNTAGGED!!!)

  I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

Some of the Script has been taken from the choices trr Book for flashback purposes!

 It was just a few days later that Riley was released from the hospital, the doctors gave her permission to go back to the palace, however she had to check in with them every few days so that they could keep an eye on her head and track her amnesia. No one was allowed in her room except him and the doctors.

Liam and Riley sat in the back of the car whilst Bastian drove, Riley, sat staring out of the window she hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. Liam watched her the whole time, never taking his eyes off her.

“your staring” she whispered

“I’m sorry” he flustered “I’m just worried about you”

“I’m okay” she stated bluntly

“Riley…”

“I’m fine Liam” she barked

“alright…I’ll take your word, shall I?” he sighed

“I’m sorry…” she whispered as she laced her fingers with his “I shouldn’t take that tone…I know it’s because you care” she added

The car arrived at the Palace just thirty minutes after leaving the hospital. Riley and Liam headed inside. Riley looked around as if it was the first time she was seeing the place, in her mind the last time she was there was the coronation.

“everyone looks so happy” she whispered

“because they are…they’re happy your home” he smiled as he squeezed her hand.

“everyone has missed you” he added

“Liam…do I stay with you? now that we’re…engaged?” she asked once they were out of view from everyone, they walked up the stairs heading down to their quarters.

“yes, you do, we have our own suite, like an apartment, a very big apartment” he smiled

“we live together?” she giggled

“yes” he smirked “we very much live together”

“that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day” she whispered with a smirk. Liam and Riley headed into their quarters, Riley's smile reached from ear to ear as she looked around the suite.

“it’s gorgeous…why on earth have I been wasting away in the room down the hall when this place is here? You’ve been holding out on me!” she giggled

“many nights I wanted to bring you here and just hold you” Liam stated as he took his coat off in the sitting room, whilst Riley was in the bedroom looking around.

“just hold me?” a smirk found itself on her face “you sure that’s all your wanted to do your Majesty?”

“Riley!” Liam laughed

“what?” she chuckled as she walked back into the sitting room.

“could you show me where my clothes are…I-I would like to change out of these” she asked him softly

“of course,” he replied as he took Riley's hand and showed her back into the bedroom, he walked her over to the closet then opened the double doors. Riley's eyes widened as she seen the size of it, it was bigger than her old apartment back home.

“th-this is all mine?” she asked

“yes, since becoming a duchess and the queen in waiting, you’ve gained quiet the wardrobe” he smiled as he walked in with Riley by his side.

“you see this one, this is the dress you wore in New York…when we got engaged” he squeezed her hand.

“it’s gorgeous”

“I know, that’s what I told you when I seen you wearing it” he chuckled

“Liam…” she sighed happily

Many Weeks went by and Riley's memory hadn’t progressed at all. She tried to remember, she tried as hard as she should, she asked questions, she had Liam and her friends tell her about what had happened in the time between her last memory and what happened in the lot. She wanted to hear every story, everything about the things they had all done together: Finding Tariq, their trip to Coney Island…Liam's proposal…she wanted to know everything.

Riley hadn’t slept properly in weeks, most nights she lay awake, with Liam's arms wrapped around her waist. Liam would lay whispering sweet nothings in her ear whilst linking his fingers with hers. Liam had spent the last few weeks searching for rileys parents whereabouts, it was as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth.

It was about six weeks after the incident that changed everything. It was late in the afternoon, Riley was in their quarters after spending the day with Hana and Maxwell. She had been feeling off all day…nauseous, her head was pounding so she had retired from their outing earlier than she had planned. once she got back she changed into some comfier clothes then she perched herself on the sofa with a blanket and turned the tv on. She watched television for a short twenty minutes before she found herself dozing off. It was just a few hours later that she awoke abruptly, she felt like someone had set her on fire, her temperature was sky high, she jumped from the seat and took off to the bathroom, as soon as she reached the toilet she fell to her knees crying as she violently chucked up her insides. Her breathing hitched as she cried. What was happening to her. Her felt sharp pains shooting in her head. her heart was beating a million miles an hour, with her breathing speeding up. it was then that it started…the flashbacks…they felt so real…as if they were happening all over again…

Making her way downstairs Riley sang to herself. “Mommy?!” she called as she walked into the living room…nothing…Riley smiled as she heard a clanging from the kitchen “Mommy!?” she called ecstatically as she headed to the kitchen, she sniffled seeing no one there, just the cat jumping from the counter and pan lying on the floor…where were her mommy and daddy? Her sister? She walked through the living room to the front door, she reached up on her tiptoes pulling the handle down on the door, she opened it stepping out onto the front steps…the car was gone. the next day Riley spent the day waiting…watching from the front step…hours went by and no one came…every car that past she watched like a hawk just in case it was her family. They wouldn’t leave her…would they? How could they? they loved her…didn’t they? How could they just abandon her?

It was like her heart was breaking all over again…like they left her all again….it was like she was reliving them…she could feel the pain…the emotion, everything she had felt back then…she could feel it again…her hands shook as the tears feel…she wasn’t sure what she was feeling…there were so many emotions going through her body, she was hurt…she was scared as it all came flooding back…her parents leaving, basically being homeless. Just seconds later it started again

There Riley stood in front of the grey door in the block of apartments…she took a deep breathe then knocked on the door…just moments later she was met with a face she never thought she would see again…Tariq!

Tariq took a moment to steady himself on the podium as hundreds of paparazzi aimed their cameras at him.

“I am here to make a statement regarding the photos of myself and Lady Riley…it was a misunderstanding that led me to her room that night, mistaking it for my own. The photos that were taken of us reveal only this: a breach of privacy that I alone was responsible for, and an arrogant and unwanted advance on my part.”

“We did it!” Riley whispered through her tears.

“IM KING OF THE WORLD!!!!” Liam shouted at the top of his lungs at the top of the Ferris wheel.

As Liam turned to look at Riley, he gently took her hand. “do you remember the coronation?”

“how could I forget”

“I was going to propose to you that night…in front of the entire court, not doing so will remain the deepest regret of my life.” Liam gently brushed a strand of hair from Riley's head as a soft smile finds itself making its way onto his face. “still perhaps its destiny that it happened this way, that you broke free of the conspiracy against you just as we returned to New York…as we came full circle” Liam turned to face the statue of liberty and gently pats his leg a few times, Riley quickly followed Liam's gaze to find herself looking at one corner of the base, beyond which you can only see darkness. “here, Bash!” he called. Riley furrowed her brows not knowing what was going on, why was Bash there? Bash emerged from behind the corner and begins trotting towards the couple. “I hope you don’t mind, my borrowing him tonight” as Bash approached the two Riley spotted something attached to his collar.

“Liam, what’s going on? What is that?” she asked curious

“you’ll see in just a moment” Liam smirked as he removed the object from Bash’s collar then he turned to Riley.                                                                  

“Riley, you’ve opened my eyes, it has been a true honour to witness your strength in the face of every challenge you have overcome. It’s a strength that lends me courage. I know that I will be a better man for having you by my side. All I want in this world is to dedicate my life in being the best man and king that I can be…for you.” Liam fell to one knee, his eyes locked on Riley's, with passion in his eyes, he reached out and took her hand in his.

“Lady Riley Brookes, Queen of my heart, I have yearned to say these four words for a very, very long time…”

“Liam…” she whispered

“Riley, will you marry me?” he smiled

Riley's heart was going a million miles an hour as she relived the moment she and Liam finally got engaged, she cried and cried as she felt the love all over again.

“we left because we couldn’t afford to support both of you!!” Riley was taken back by her mother’s statement.

“Bullshit! Absolute bullshit!! You could afford to have nice cars…a big house…you gave Lulu everything she ever wanted! SO, DON’T YOU DARE COME INTO OUR HOME…AND TRY AND FEED ME THAT BULLSHIT!! IF YOU COULDN’T AFFORD TWO CHILDREN YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD TWO CHILDREN!!! WE HAD THE BIGGEST HOUSE ON THE BLOCK…WE HAD MORE CARS THAN WE WOULD EVER NEED…WE HAD A MAID FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!” Riley shouted as she got closer and closer to the woman.

“Riley-”

“NO! IM NOT FINISHED, YOU WERE MY PARENTS…YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LOOK OUT FOR ME…TAKE CARE OF ME…I HAD NO ONE! I SPENT YEARS EATING SCRAPS FROM THE GARBAGE BECAUSE I HAD NOTHING!! I WAS FUCKIN TEN! I WOKE UP THAT MORNING AND LOOKED FOR YOU…I LOOKED FOR BOTH OF YOU!” Riley turned her attention to the 50-year-old well-dressed man “I DON’T KNOW WHY YOUR SITTING THERE…YOU’RE AS MUCH TO BLAME AS SHE IS! BOTH OF YOU HAD A RESPOSIBILITY AS PARENTS TO CARE FOR YOUR CHILDREN, THE SECOND YOU LAID DOWN TOGETHER AND HAD ANOTHER CHILD…THAT CHILD WAS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY!!”

“Riley please don’t shout at me like that, I’m your mother, I’m sorry riley” the woman apologised

“FUCK YOUR APOLOGIES, MAYBE YOU CAN SIGN MY THERAPISTS BILL WITH IT BECAUSE I DON’T WANT IT! MOTHER? HAH! YOU STOPPED BEING MY MOTHER THE SECOND YOU ABANDONED ME! I WAITED FOR YOU…I WAITED FOR YOU ON THE STEPS OF THAT HOUSE…I WAITED FOR YOU TO COME BACK FOR ME” Riley cried hysterically “WAS I THAT BAD A CHILD THAT YOU DIDN’T WANT ME? WAS I THAT WORTHLESS TO YOU…DID I MEAN THAT LITTLE TO YOU THAT YOU COULD JUST LEAVE ME WITH NOTHING? …LIKE I WAS NOTHING! AND THEN YOU COME HERE EXPECTING ME TO FORGIVE YOU…I DON’T THINK SO…YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST COME HERE AND SAY YOUR SORRY AND I’LL FORGIVE YOU? …MAYBE IF YOU TOOK ME WITH YOU, YOU WOULD KNOW THAT, THAT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN…IM A FORGIVING PERSON BUT YOU CAN’T RUIN MY LIFE THEN EXPECT AN APOLOGY TO SUFICE?” 

Riley started to hyperventilate, she didn’t know hot to handle all these feelings at once, she sat on the floor of the bathroom, knees pulled up to her chest as tried to make sense of everything. It was her next memory that threw her over the edge though…the one that really got her.

“Riley!” Liam shouted, “Riley please open the door!”

“why” she cried “why would they do that!? W-why would they leave me like that!?” she sobbed

“Riley…sweetheart” he said just loud enough for her to hear “I know…I don’t know mentally what you’re going through but if you let me in, we can talk, let me help you riley”

“no…wh-why would anyone want to help me…I’m worthless…my own parents didn’t even want me…why would anyone else” she blubbered, he felt his heart breaking a little, hearing how she spoke about herself

“hey…you are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for Riley, your friends love you, I love you, we all love you so much”

“stop! Stop saying that!! You’re all just going to do the same as they did…you’re going to get m-my hopes up…then you’re going to l-leave me…b-but I c-can’t let m-myself…b-be hurt again…I-I’m so sorry L-Liam” she started to hyperventilate.

“Riley!!!” Liam shouted panicking when he heard her moving, all her could hear was her crying and throwing things around…he banged his fists on the door, then he heard a scattering on the floor as if she had dropped beads or something of that size then the tap started running.

“Riley!!! RILEY!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!”

“I-I love you Liam” she cried as she moved from their bathroom to the bedroom.

“Riley move away from the door I’m coming in!!”

“y-you can t-try but…you’ll be too late” Liam stood back, lifting his leg and forcing his foot into the door with all his might. The door flew open, banging against the chest of draws just beside it. When he got the door open he ran straight for Riley who was balled up next to the bed with her back to him, he fell to his knees pulling her into his hold with his arms wrapped around her and her back against his chest her hands covered her face. Her hands were bleeding from her nails digging into her palms so much when she was clenching her fists. Liam sat holding her as tight as he could when he looked up he got a straight line of sight to the bathroom…that’s when he panicked…painkillers…all over the floor.

“Riley? how many did you take?”

“enough t-to take the p-pain away” she cried “how could they leave me?” he held her back to his chest. Riley started to become hazy…not responding as fast as she normally would

“Riley…Riley talk to me!!! How many did you take?” the tears started to fall from Liam’s eyes…overwhelmed with everything happening before him. “BASTIAN!! BASTIAN! GET THE PHYSICIAN!!” Liam shouted at the top of his lungs.

At this point Riley couldn’t hear a thing around her…they mind was set on herself and that’s its…the whole court could be in that room and she wouldn’t have noticed, her hands shook, her nose ran, her face was red from the tears, she had cut the inside of her hands with her fingernails due to clenching her fist too tight.

The next flashback took it out of her, it was a memory…she hadn’t yet felt the backlash off, because of her amnesia…no one knew how she would feel or react when she got her memories back.

once Riley climbed out of the shower, she wrapped her towel round her, then headed into the bedroom, she changed into some comfy clothes then made her way into the living room, as she walked in she seen the balcony door lying open, assuming it was the wind or something, she just let it go and went to shut it, as she went to pull it shut, she felt someone hit her on the back of the head then a hand went over her mouth, she struggled, trying to get away, she kicked she wriggled she tried as hard as she could to get out of their hold…but no avail. she cried and screamed only for it to be muffled. Her eyes widened as she heard her mothers laugh. She was pulled from the palace, out onto the balcony then she was pushed over the edge, Knocking her out.

Everything fast forwarded. Next thing she knew, she was in a small room, about the size of a broom closet, she was alone…the only person in there. The room contained, her, a chair and a camera.

It was like her life was on fast forward. She may have just been sitting on the cold bathroom floor, but in her mind, she was in that room…she was locked up…with no oxygen.

“Liam” she stated looking at the camera so tired and beat up.

“Th-There’s no windows…the door is sealed…i-im the only person in here…they’re trying suffocate me” she coughed then winced “they s-said…If you want to s-see me again…t-they want…m-money…one hundred million. The cameras on a timer…it’s going to interrupt every channel every thirty minutes for ten minutes” She cried “Liam…d-don’t give into them…Don’t do it” her eyes were like faucets.

“I love you Liam” she whispered before the camera went off. as the red record light went off on the camera, she burst into tears…she knew she didn’t have long…she wasn’t stupid, every hole and space was sealed there was no oxygen getting into that room, she had hours and she knew it.

As the hours went by in that room, it felt like seconds to Riley sitting in the bathroom, her breathing wavered as she felt the loss of oxygen…Riley screamed and cried as she tried to stand up but quickly fell back to the floor again. As she fell to the floor, she gripped the sink basin pulling the glass soap dish down with a crash, it smashed all over the floor, pieces flew everywhere. She couldn’t handle the pain in her heart…it was all too much. It was like all her heartbreak that she had ever felt…all happening at once. She was repeatedly vomiting, hyperventilating, crying, 

“…Liam…I don’t have much…time left…I…can hardly…breathe” she gasped “so I …want to say…this now” she was dying…she could hardly keep her eyes open…no energy to keep her head up

“…I want you to know…how much…you’ve changed me…for the better…how much you’ve moved me, you made me…a woman…by loving me, Liam” with gasps between each word she carried on, she knew she should really stop talking to save oxygen but she had to tell him before it was too late…he had to know she loved him “and for that…I am…eternally grateful!, promise me Liam…that…that whenever your…sad…or unsure…or you lose…complete faith…promise me…that you’ll try to see yourself…through my eyes…thank you…for giving me the honour…of getting to …know you…I have no regrets when…it comes to you…you’ve made my…life, Liam…but I’m just a …chapter in yours…there will be…more…I promise…don’t be afraid to fall in love again…marry for love Liam…I love you Liam” she gasped as her eyes flickered shut.

she couldn’t breathe and because she couldn’t breathe she couldn’t shout to anyone…she couldn’t call anyone for help.

Riley's scream could be heard throughout the palace, Liam was in a meeting he heard it, as one of the lords at the table spoke,, the scream broke the conversation, Liam quickly stood from the seat and took off out the door, he ran…he ran faster than he ever did until he reached their quarters, at this point the guard on door post duty was already in there, he was stood at the bathroom door just watching…he wasn’t sure what to do, he didn’t know if he should go near her, she was in such a state he wasn’t sure how to deal with it, he had been trained to deal with all sorts of situations but he wasn’t trained for this.

Liam came running in, stopping at the bathroom door, as soon as he seen Riley, the glass all over the floor, the blood on her hands, the glass shards that had pierced her feet, her hair was mangled from pulling at It, her skin pale as snow from all the vomiting, her cheeks stained red from the tears. Liam dismissed the guard as he carefully moved closer to her, kicking the glass away, once he reached her side he fell to his knees pulling her into his chest, he knew exactly what was happening.

“it’s alright…it’s okay…I’m right here” he whispered as he held her close. “deep breathes sweetie it’s okay…it’s okay…you’re gonna be just fine sweetie, I know it hurts, but it’s going to get better I promise” he gently pecked her head. “ive got you, your safe, your okay” he whispered softly into her ear, trying to calm her down. “shh, shh, it’s alright”

Liam could feel his own heart breaking as he watches the love of his life breaking in front of him, how two people could make someone feel like that…how they could break someone so easily…it disturbed him, what kind of person does that!

If You Like It...Reblog it! <3

[writeinspiration]

suggestions for a young writer? im 15 and i just started seriously writing about a year ago~ since then I've written mostly poetry but I really write other stuff like short stories or plays too! but i always have trouble making my ideas ideas into something and just deciding how or what i want to write. and i get so worried that i lose motivation! i think that i first want to tackle trying to make characters/a simple short story. advice, tips, or tricks? thank youuu!

Hi! I’m glad you’re ready to get started! Beingeager about writing is the best. Writing a poem is a lot like writing a shortstory, so you’re on the right track. Good writing is precise and almost lyrical.

It can be really difficult to maintain motivation.Most people will advise you to write every day, which is good advice, but it’sjust not always feasible. The more you write, the better you will get!

Personally, titles and concepts and characters areall equally likely to get me started on a project. A cool title might pop up inmy head, and then I develop what story and characters go with it. Or I’ll havea concept that I’ll develop and label. Other times, I start with a characterand figure out who they are and what they do.

Here’s my most popular post regarding charactercreation: https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/158687382194/how-do-you-create-characters-or-do-they-come-find

Keeping motivated can be really difficult whenyou’re unsure of your capabilities as a writer. But the more you wait to putyour ideas to the page, the harder it will be to pick things back up. Onceyou’ve gone a week without writing, one more day seems like nothing. One moreweek, one more month… where does it stop?

I’ve seen people suggest leaving off in the middleof a sentence. When you do that, you are setting up for success. You alreadyknow exactly how that sentence will end and where it will lead. So once you sitdown with it again, you can hit the middle of the sentence without staring at atotally blank page.

I have a lot of different posts and tags that mayhelp you out!

Writer’s block and depression (1), and again (2), and some pick-me-ups (3)

First drafts don’t have to be good. 

Write a whole bunch of crappy sentences if that’s what it takesto get a good one.

Don’t let it get you down. Just get it done.

Your big ideas are worth pursuing.

This post in particular will likely resonate with you and how you feel right now: https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/132168477614/ive-been-trying-to-write-for-years-unfortunately (full text included at the very, very bottom of this post)

More below the “Keep reading” line!

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Useful tags:

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/search/young– stuff relating to young writers and characters

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/search/inspiration– inspiration

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/search/motivation– motivation

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/tagged/depression– depression

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– writing prompts

Specific posts that address some of your concerns:

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/144610505447/if-you-see-a-need-fill-it– If you see a need, fill it.

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/152075979524/fuckyeahyoungadultlit-tachycardiia– diversity in YA lit

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/132168477614/ive-been-trying-to-write-for-years-unfortunately– starting to write

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/131428782622/cliches-in-ya-romance– clichés in YA romance

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/131034862609/lizardpeopledearreader-honestly-if-stephanie– There’s always someone worse.

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/104205593649/jetpack-johnny-rose-for-a-tenner-actually– Curiosity is important.

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/23740953643/setting– starting with setting

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/151665809147/learning-the-essentials-of-plotting-your-novel– plotting

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/149405245039/i-have-an-insanely-bad-time-writing-dialogue-any– dialogue

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/169191903744/behind-me-is-infinite-power-before-me-is-endless– possibilities

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/167418537238/startledoctopus-ronibravo-i-started-writing– any reason to start writing is a good reason

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/96119396642/cranky-crustaceans-pupukachoo– Pixar’s rules for storytelling

30THNOVEMBER 2013

QUOTE REBLOGGEDFROM BLOTS& PLOTS WITH 105,191 NOTES

Young writers should read books past bedtime andwrite things down in notebooks when they are supposed to be doing somethingelse.

— Lemony Snicket  (via blotsandplots)

14THDECEMBER 2012

The question for each man to settle is not what hewould do if he had means, time, influence and educational advantages; thequestion is what he will do with the things he has. The moment a young manceases to dream or to bemoan his lack of opportunities and resolutely looks hisconditions in the face, and resolves to change them, he lays the corner-stoneof a solid and honorable success.

— Hamilton Wright Mabie

7THNOVEMBER 2017

PHOTO REBLOGGEDFROM FIXYOUR WRITING HABITS WITH 2,493 NOTES

[Image transcript:The Rules of Writing

1: Write crappy first drafts.2: Words don’t bleed. Cut them.3: Write now. Edit later.4: There are NO mistakes–only creative opportunities.5. Don’t think. Just write.6: Rules? There are rules?]

Starting to write:

https://writeinspiration.tumblr.com/post/132168477614/ive-been-trying-to-write-for-years-unfortunately

deathtotheselfie asked:I’ve been trying to write for years. Unfortunately I’m very young and theschooling I’ve received on writing is nothing like I what I write about. I’monly 14 now, but little phrases and ideas bounce around in my head. Howeverwhen I write I feel like it’s not good or mature enough because of my lack ofexperience. I can’t tend to think of original plots as I’m just surrounded inother people’s work. Do you have any advice on plot development? And do youthink I should continue trying to write?

Hi! Your question makes me quite sad. If you liketo write, then you should pursue it. It’s that simple.

School doesn’t help much in terms of creativewriting. Over the summer, when I was little, my mom would make my sister and mewrite short stories. It kept me in the habit of writing even when school wasn’tin session.

(Wanna know a secret? I often got stuck halfwaythrough my story, so I’d coerce my sister into showing me hers. Then I wouldwrite the same events but in my own words. I did this for quite a while onesummer. Maybe two.)

Not only does school keep you ridiculously busy,but it also doesn’t like teaching creative stuff much either, because math andscience are deemed as more important than anything related to the arts.

All those negative voices banging around in yourhead along with all the good ideas you have? You need to learn to silence them.Those things are what you are being trained to think.

Here’s what nobody seems to know about writing:you have to start  somewhere. No one starts off as an amazing writer.

People expect writers to have this magical well ofintuition, but honestly, it just comes from practice.

You know that thing about practicing 10,000 hoursin order to become a master at something? It applies to writing, too.

Writers write.

You need to watch and write things down–what youobserve can be the basis for characters or plot or whatever. Eavesdrop on astranger’s phone conversation to get a peek into other people’s lives. Sit on abench in the mall and watch people go by.

Do you know how babies learn? They observe otherpeople doing things and then try to mimic them.

I don’t mean that fledgling writers are babies, ofcourse, but I mean that you can get your best work by reading other people’swork.

Figure out what you like to read, what you don’t liketo read. And then ask yourself WHY.

What is it about that book you hated? Was it thecharacters? The plot? The slow story-telling?

What did you love about that one book? How did itmake you feel? What parts made you feel that way?

I was in middle school when I began reading a Series of Unfortunate Events  (I’m25, for comparison’s sake). Do you know what my writing sounded like while Iwas reading those? Lemony Snicket. It wasn’t on purpose, but that’s just whathappened. (Also for comparison’s sake, I now have had a short story publishedin an actual anthology and completed a 60-page poetry collection as my creativethesis, as well as a book that I’m trying to get published.)

The more you read, the more you gain. If you readenough books, then you’ll have influences from all over that create a uniquewriter: you.

You are the sum of everything you have ever reador seen or thought about.

Yes, you’re a teenager. But that doesn’t stop youfrom observing the world and teaching yourself to understand other writers’work.

If you want to write something but are worriedthat it sounds too much like somebody else, then figure out why it sounds thatway. Is it just you that thinks it sounds that way? Or do other people tell youthat as well? Find out what it is that makes it sound like that. Is it thenarration? The plot? The themes?

Regardless of your answers, you are able to makeit unique to you.

You are a writer, and whatever you write will beyours and yours alone.

As far as plot development goes, I find thatoutlining helps. I don’t always keep to the outline, but askingyourself “Then what happens?” after each event that you write down is thebest thing you can do for yourself.

A plot is a series of events. If you know whathappens naturally after something, then you write that down. It also helps ifyou understand WHY something happens.

She goes to the mall.

Then what happens?

She ends up going home and crying in her room.

Why? What caused this? What physical actionscaused her to want to leave the mall? What mental actions occurred because ofthe physical actions?

She runs into someone she used to be best friendswith, and they get into a fight. This makes her feel disappointed in her friendbut also unsure of herself because she doesn’t know what she has done to makeher friend act that way. She places the blame on herself instead of on herformer friend. This is because she has been told growing up that everything isher fault and that her younger brother can’t do anything wrong.

See what I mean? And it’s okay to ask yourselfwhat you would do in that situation. But your characters are not you. Theyprobably won’t react like you would. And that’s okay and important.

As I told my students last year, ask yourself WHYand HOW after each sentence, after each paragraph, after each plot point, aftereach whatever. It will keep your story going until it reaches its naturalconclusion.

Okay, this ended up being way, way longer than Iintended it to be, haha. But I’m completely serious and obviously verypassionate about this. And I can say way more on the subject at the drop of ahat, so if you have any more questions, then just give me a shout. :)

Best of luck. And don’t stop writing.

I mean it. :)

[icecubelotr44]

The Darling Affair (18/18+)

Summary:  Ex-military officer Killian Jones has never forgiven the Gold family for what they took from him. But when his path searching for justice (and maybe revenge) leads him straight to Emma Swan, a social worker who’s young charge has just been kidnapped by Malcolm Gold, he might just learn to let go of the past.

Rated:  T, for violence, kidnapping, some dark themes

Art credit/link: The totally awesome @shady-swan-jones took on the story and made some fabulous art for it.  You can see the art here.

Beta and cheerleader: @delightfully-difficult-pirate and @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable, thanks so much for all of your help and cajoling and reassuring!

(tagging @lenfaz, @xhookswenchx, @bleebug, @kiwistreetswan, @swanspiraterum, @swanslovestruck, @killian-whump, @timeless-love-story, @katie-dub, @ss-captainswan, and @woofiefangirl so they see the chapter is up!)

To whomever nominated this story for the Captain Swan Fanfic Awards, thank you so much!  It means more than you could know.  Everyone should go check out all the categories and vote for your favorites - there are so many awesome stories, artists, and authors!

Word count:  ~5,400 (87K Total in 18 chapters, plus an epilogue that I never intended to add - longer than Chamber of Secrets now)

From the beginning: AO3 / FFN (current chapter: ao3 / ffn) Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Chapter 18: Affairs in Order

“I think, just this once, brother, that I'll take the ambulance.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat, her arm unconsciously tightening around Killian’s shoulders.  She couldn’t tear her eyes from the gash on his wrist as his blood seeped through her fingers.  Her body shook with the tremors that coursed through him as he tucked his head more firmly under her chin.

He’d asked for an ambulance.  That fact kept racing around Emma’s brain and leaving a sour taste in her mouth.  She’d seen him shot, heard him sew up his own skin, and nursed him through the aftermath without him thinking he needed any medical attention.  To hear him readily accept help now – and public help at that?  Emma was terrified of what he was hiding.

But Killian’s head was on her shoulder and his voice, while raspy, was soothing her frazzled nerves.

Liam’s men moved systematically around them, cleansing the area or whatever it was they were responsible for.  She didn’t care.  Killian was still sitting in the chair they’d found him in - mostly unaided - but he was fading fast.  He’d been beaten badly and Emma didn’t want to think about what else he’d endured.  The scream they’d all heard was still echoing in her ears, and she was positive that it would feature in her nightmares for weeks to come.

Killian had been terrified, she’d heard it plainly in that agonized yell, and for the first time since Liam had barged into the hotel, Emma had been truly afraid.  Afraid they wouldn’t find him in time.  Afraid of what they would find even if they did make it before Gold killed him.

Afraid that she’d lose Killian before she even had a chance to really have him.

It only took a few more minutes before Liam’s agents disappeared like ghosts and men in navy blue windbreakers emblazoned “FBI” swarmed around them.  Emma paid them no more mind than the Jones brothers did.  She was somewhat aware of her surroundings, but she was far more concerned with the way Killian tensed at every noise.

Then Gold cackled, and Killian whimpered under his breath.

Emma was on her feet before she even realized she’d moved.

“You think this is over, Jones?” Gold hissed, still giggling maniacally.  “You think that you’ve won?  It will only be a matter of time bef-”

Emma shook her hand as pain erupted across her knuckles.  She watched as Gold lifted his head from where it had snapped to the side, still sneering. ��Before he could speak again, Emma hauled back and punched him once more.  The sickening sound of bone crunching as his nose spread across his face was satisfying.  The blood that poured down Gold’s face was just a fraction of what he deserved.  She wanted to hit him again.  She wanted to dig her fingers into the bullet wound in his shoulder.  She wanted...

“Emma,” Killian’s soft whisper cut through the haze of red that had taken over her vision.  Her head whipped around, Gold forgotten in the need to hear what Killian wanted - what he needed.

He smiled, the gap in his lip widening, and he cocked his head to the side.  “Come here, love.  Please?”

Like she could deny him anything at the moment.

Forgetting that Gold even existed, Emma crossed the room again, dropping back down next to Killian and tucking herself around his side.  The fingers of her right hand tangled in the sweat-drenched locks at the nape of his neck, her left hand hugging him close to her side.  Killian practically melted into her embrace, his breath rushing out of him in an audible ‘whoosh’ as he finally relaxed completely.

Emma didn’t leave Killian’s side until two EMTs insistently moved her out of the way, and she watched intently from the sidelines as they worked.

Liam refused to move from his brother’s side with a growl that would have cowed even the fiercest of men.

It almost made Emma grin.

Then she remembered the reason for it, and her heart clenched painfully.

Everything had happened so quickly that Emma wasn’t entirely sure she’d caught up yet.  They’d found Killian shortly after she’d shot and maybe killed people.  Robert Gold and the man who had kidnapped Michael back in Boston were both in custody, no longer a threat, and Killian was safe and being looked after.

Killian was hurt, he’d been afraid, he wanted medical care.

He was going to be all right; but Emma wasn’t sure she was okay just yet.

Everything had happened so fast.

The EMT’s were moving Killian onto a gurney before Emma could comprehend everything that she’d seen them do.  There was an oxygen mask on his face and an IV in his arm.  A heavy, woolen blanket was tucked in tightly before he was strapped down, and Emma panicked when they started to wheel him away.

She must have made a noise because both the EMTs and Killian turned to look at her.  Liam smiled softly at her from his place at his brother’s side, and leaned down to listen to Killian’s muffled words.  He nodded at his brother and then cocked his head to the side, meeting her eyes.

“There’s room for two of us in the ambulance if you’re planning on tagging along, lass.  I’d hate to lose track of you after all this.”  There was a bit of wry sarcasm in Liam’s tone, but Emma ignored it in the face of the relief she felt at not having to let Killian out of her sight.

Her need to be near him startled her as she raced to walk on Killian’s right side as they headed for the elevator.  She had spent so long relying on herself and only herself that she still wasn’t entirely sure when Killian had gone and snuck past her defenses.

But he had.  

Emma couldn’t find it in her to worry about it.  Not when he’d done so much, given up so much, to keep his promise to her.  Looking at him now, bruised and beaten but still unbroken, Emma was sure that it was more than enough for her.

The flashing lights of the ambulances and black SUVs hurt her eyes, and she had to blink rapidly as she hurried with Killian.  They loaded him into the back, Liam climbing in with the gurney and one of the EMTs, and Emma stood frozen.

There was no more room for her.

“This way, Miss.”  A soft, Midwestern accent spoke up from her elbow and she turned to see the other medic gesturing to the front of the ambulance.  Her stomach clenched as she walked past the doors and lost sight of Killian.  As quickly as she could, Emma climbed into the front seat and buckled her seatbelt.  

She wanted to be in the back, too.  She needed to see that Killian was all right.  She needed…

“I’m right here, Emma.”  His voice was soft and muffled by the oxygen mask, but when she turned abruptly to look over her shoulder, she could see Killian’s head craning over the top of the gurney.  His blue eyes met hers and her stomach settled.  She smiled back at him and finally relaxed.

It was over.  They were all safe now.

When the ambulance started moving, Killian relaxed into the gurney and their eye contact broke, but Emma found herself still calm.  She could hear the rhythmic beeping of the machines that were monitoring Killian, and she reveled in them.  She watched Liam as he sat on the bench to Killian’s left, still clutching his brother’s hand with both of his own.  The EMT in the back worked around the locked hands, and it was only a few minutes into the ride when Emma saw Killian’s grip go slack.

Liam’s soft smile and the continued steady beeping from the monitors kept her from panicking.  

Killian was finally resting.

The calm lasted until the ambulance pulled into the bay at Northwestern Memorial Hospital.  There was a flurry of activity as Killian was whisked away from them - despite Liam’s protests as his hands were peeled from Killian’s - amidst shouts of tests that needed to be run and equipment that needed to be transferred to “Trauma 3”.  Then, the two of them were left unceremoniously in a waiting room with no information and a mountain of paperwork to fill out.

Emma paced.

Liam sat.

Eventually, a young woman came to move them to a more private waiting room on one of the upper floors of the hospital.  She assured them that someone would be by when there was any information, but that Killian had been admitted.

Emma continued to pace.

Liam sat.

It infuriated her to see him so calm.  His brother was in some unknown state of health after being held captive for days by a man so ruthless that he profited from the trafficking of children.  Killian hadn’t even fought the EMTs when they strapped him down, and now no one would tell them anything.

“How do you do it?”  Emma broke the silence when it seemed as though they would never hear about Killian.  Her voice was sharper than she’d intended, but she let the question hang between them.

Liam looked up from the files one of his agents had dropped off.  “Do what, lass?”

She threw her hands up in the air, staring at him incredulously.  “Do what?  Worry about him!  All the time!  Send him out on missions like this knowing that with the way he is, this is how it’s probably going to end up.  And then just sit there like it’s nothing.  How do you do it?”

Liam shrugged, a wry smile on his face.  “He ain’t heavy.  He’s m’ brother.”

And that was all there was to it, she supposed.  Emma had only known Killian Jones for a few weeks, and she was already certain that he was never going to give it up.  Liam had known him for their whole lives.  He knew he couldn’t change his brother.  So that was what it all boiled down to.  Could Liam accept that this was how Killian thrived?

Could she?

Emma had come into this arrangement convinced that at the end of it, she and Killian would go their separate ways and that would be the end of it.  She didn’t need to learn how to accept Killian’s quirks and self-sacrifices.  It was just business, Gold’s downfall for him and Michael’s safety for her, and nothing else should have come from it.

Nothing else was supposed to come from it.

And now?

Now she wanted to charge down the hall until she found whatever room they had squirreled Killian away in and watch him sleep.  She wanted to take him back to Boston and figure out what came next as it unfolded.  She wanted to know what it was like to worry about him and understand him all at once.

He ain’t heavy.  He’s mine.

Emma wasn’t sure about where they stood, not entirely, but thought she could learn to accept that.

“Family of Killian Jones?”  

The doctor’s curt voice woke Liam from the half-asleep state he’d fallen into some time after dawn had broken.  Emma had finally collapsed into a chair near the window, but judging by the number of Styrofoam cups on the table next to her, she hadn’t slept.  It made him smile to see her care so much.  

His brother needed that.

Maybe he’d been wrong about her, after all.  He’d never tell either of them that, though.

Belatedly, Liam stood up and acknowledged the doctor, internally tamping down the worry that surfaced when he realized exactly how long he’d been sitting in the waiting room… waiting.

“I’m Killian’s brother.  How is he?”  His voice wavered ever so slightly, but the physician smiled gently at him before consulting his chart.  Liam let out the breath that had gotten stuck in his chest.

“My name is Doctor Alan Cooper, I’ve been treating Mr. Jones.  Should we speak somewhere privately?”  Cooper nodded his head at Emma, who had risen and made her way over to them.  Liam could see the worry she was trying to hide - it was written in the brightness of her eyes.

“No,” Liam countered, turning so Emma was more fully involved in the conversation.  “No, she’s with Killian as well.  How is he?”

Cooper accepted this easily.  “Of course.  Well, your brother was very lucky.  I’ve been told, repeatedly, that I don’t ‘need to know’ the circumstances surrounding his injuries.  But from what I can gather, he took several risks with his health that I find concerning.”

Liam nodded, then coughed to cover Emma’s scoff.  He knew there was a bullet wound in Killian’s side that she was intimately aware of.  Not to mention the results of Gold’s work.  Liam saw red at the memory.

Oblivious to Liam’s anger, the doctor continued.  “We’ve admitted your brother for observation of his various injuries.  Our biggest concern at the moment is that he has developed pneumonia, and that, on top of his other issues, puts him at risk for complications.  Beyond that, the gunshot wound to his left flank appears to be at least a week old, and has begun to scar over.  This wound resulted in a small splenic laceration that could have caused severe problems.  We’ll be monitoring that carefully.  He also has a comminuted fracture of his orbital bone, but it seems to be relatively stable.  On top of all that, he appears to be suffering symptoms of a concussion, but we asked him, and he can’t remember how long ago the initial injury occurred so...”

Liam latched onto that even as Cooper listed more of Killian’s injuries.  Killian ‘couldn’t remember’ – but they’d asked him about the concussion.  That meant his brother was conscious.  Liam was okay with everything else.  His little brother had been awake at some point and wasn’t lying half-dead in a coma in a room somewhere.

Emma seemed to hear the same thing Liam had, as she melted into his side with an audible sigh.  Liam smiled down at the ease in which she buried her face in his shoulder, and he could feel the way her whole body shifted as she let some of the stress go.  It seemed perfectly natural to lay his arm over her shoulders and pull her into his side to share their relief.

Killian was going to be okay.

The doctor rattled off a few more issues and admonishments that he couldn’t take a proper history, but then relented and gave them Killian’s room number.

Liam was pretty sure he thanked Cooper for everything he’d done, but couldn’t actually remember the conversation as he and Emma raced down the hall.

Killian looked small.

It was a notion he hadn’t associated with his brother since long before he’d entered the Navy, since Killian was a young miscreant intent on taking on the world with his fists and his anger.  Now, lying in a hospital bed and attached to several machines and IV drips, there was no other description that fit.

He looked impossibly small.

But Killian’s non-swollen eye was open, if heavy-lidded, and the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose did little to disguise the half-drunk smile at seeing the two of them.  His little brother was clearly high as a kite.

The fist that had been clenching at Liam’s heart since Emma had called him in a panic finally let go.

Killian needed time to heal, yes, but he was going to be just fine.

Killian was somewhat aware of the time he spent in the ambulance with Liam at his side, then of the terror that gripped him when they were separated in the emergency room, then of the apathy that overtook him as sedatives coursed through him.  He slept through being admitted, content to rest now that he was blanketed by an unrelenting feeling of safety.  His drug-addled brain couldn’t pinpoint how he knew he was safe.  Just that he was.

Now, in a room that smelled of disinfectant, Killian floated above the pain and the fear of his memories.

There’s something to this whole ‘convalescing in a hospital’ lark, he thought idly as he traced the fascinating pattern on the thin blanket covering him.  For one, the drugs were far better than what he routinely pilfered from Whale’s stock whenever the physician’s back was turned.  For another, despite the baleful glares that the doctor assigned to his care kept giving him, no one was actively trying to kill him at the moment.  If he ignored the pain in his chest every time he tried to breathe and the incessant questions that he couldn’t answer until his brother had given him leave, he wasn’t bothered by too much at the moment.

But there was something he was missing.  Something that was flitting about just out of reach; something important that the drugs wouldn’t let him remember.

So he slept.

They poked and prodded.  They asked him questions he either didn’t want to or couldn’t answer.  They x-rayed and scanned and drew blood.  And he floated along with it, unsure if he should be concerned with the number of tests that were going on around him.  Now that the adrenaline rush was abating, he hurt and he felt ill.  He wanted to curl up in a ball and lick his wounds in private.

But they kept pumping him with medications and asking him questions and trying to make him take deep breaths.

Didn’t they understand that breathing hurt?

He wanted his brother to come and make them stop.  There were times when he hated that Liam insisted on reminding him he was the “little brother”, but right now what Killian really wanted was for his big brother to step in and make it stop.  

Make them leave him alone.

He was partially sure that the drugs were lowering his inhibitions to an extreme extent, and he was just thankful that no one was privy to his internal monologue just then.  

Liam would never let him live that down.

So he slept.

When Killian woke again, he had been moved to a private room and there was only a nurse in the room, monitoring his vitals.  Some of the haze of the past few hours had faded, and there was a bit of light peeking through under the shade.  The young woman was pretty enough, but her blonde hair finally reminded him of what he had been missing earlier.

Emma.

He wanted to see Emma.

Killian didn’t remember what happened to her after the EMTs showed up.  Liam had stayed with him until it went dark in the ambulance, and he knew his brother would be close by even now.  But had Emma gone back to Boston?  Or was she waiting with Liam?

He tried to get the nurse’s attention, but his garbled speech just made her smile as she walked out of the room.  Killian tried to glare at her retreating back, but he couldn’t muster the energy.

Besides, Liam would be here soon, and he would know where Emma was.

So he slept.

Killian wasn’t asleep for long, the uncomfortable feeling of the mask on his face and the dry oxygen keeping him from a deep sleep.  There were beeping monitors to his right and adhesive tape pulling on his skin every time he moved.  The medicine pumping through the IV was keeping most of his discomfort at bay, but they had definitely lowered the dosage to the point where he was able to string multiple thoughts together and he wasn’t enthralled with the shiny patterns dancing around him any longer.

And then he saw them.  

Emma and Liam, beaming like bloody morons from the doorway.  There was a haunted look in their eyes, only half hidden by the grins, so he tried to smile back at them in reassurance.

“You’re an idiot.”  Emma broke the silence first, and Killian nodded amicably.

He smirked.  “You’ve told me that before, love.  At least you didn’t have to haul me across a room this time?”  His voice was muffled by the mask and he reached to take it off.

The twin glares from his brother and his… and from Emma stopped Killian’s hand midway to his face.  He slowly dropped his hand back to his side, not wanting to provoke either of them.

Maybe there wasn’t much to this convalescing in a hospital lark after all.

The quiet of the private room in the hospital was mildly unnerving to Emma.  She could see people moving out in the corridor through the windows, but the closed door shut out all the noise.  The only things she could hear were the various machines whirring and beeping, and Killian’s breaths.

And Liam’s snores in the corner of the room where he was sprawled on the small couch under the window.

Emma rolled her eyes at him.

But she was thankful for Liam, too.  He’d basically browbeat the hospital staff into moving Killian to a private room and then told them in no uncertain terms that ‘visiting hours’ didn’t apply to himself or Emma.

Protective custody, he’d called it.  National security, he’d claimed with a badge that Emma was sure had no actual pull.

Gift horses and mouths and all that, however, she mused as she watched Killian’s chest rise and fall.

His hair was plastered to his forehead, the fever he’d been battling for the past few days sapping most of his energy.  He had woken a few times in various stages of awareness, but mostly he slept.

Emma hadn’t left his side for longer than a few minutes since the hospital had acquiesced to Liam’s ‘requests’.

Then again, neither had Liam.

It hadn’t taken the two of them long to fall into an unconscious schedule, working in shifts to make sure that one of them was always awake in case Killian needed something.  Most times it was a hand to hold as he struggled to wake from his nightmares.  Occasionally, it was a sip or two of water when his voice croaked as he asked after them.  All too often, it was an arm behind his back to lift him up and brace him as he caught his breath against the coughs that stole it.

Far too many times for Emma’s piece of mind, it was a fierce hug as he gasped awake, the terror in his eyes all too real as he struggled to separate reality from memory.  Those times, when Killian buried his face in the crook of her neck and gripped the back of her shirt with as much strength as he could muster, Emma put her own fears and insecurities aside as she hushed him and cuddled him close.

He needed the comfort far more than her walls needed their distance.

“Emma!  No!”  Killian’s cry echoed through the quiet and she was sitting on the mattress by Killian’s hip even before he could sit up fully.  Emma pulled him forward, tucking his head under her chin and wrapping her arms around him before he could reach for her.  Killian’s shoulders heaved as he started to hack - short, barky coughs that stole his breath.  He shivered, tremors shaking his whole body that Emma could feel as she ran her hand up and down his back.  She caught Liam’s eye when he made to get up and she shook her head - she had this, he could sleep some more.

“Shhh, Killian, you’re safe.  I’m here,” she whispered, her hands gentle as they soothed him.  Emma could feel the fever burning through him, could hear the hitched breaths, could see the goosebumps on his bare back.

“You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.”  Killian’s manic whisper, breathed out against her collarbone, broke her heart.  It wasn’t the first time he’d replaced himself with her in his nightmares.

“I’m safe.  You kept me safe, Killian.  It’s all right now,” she whispered back.  Emma reached behind her for the blanket to drape over his shoulders before he could catch cold.

The audible whimper and the tensing of his entire body when she let go of him shattered what was left of her heart.  “Shhh,” Emma soothed, throwing the material quickly over his shoulders and hugging him close.

Killian relaxed immediately in her grip.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they sat there, with him tangling his fingers in her shirt and her burying her nose in his hair.  It seemed that time around them stopped until Killian finally sagged, his energy spent.  She eased him back against the pillows, keeping him close until the last instant.

Killian wasn’t the only one who needed the physical reminder that they were here and safe.

With a kiss to his brow, Emma tried to sit back, wanting just another moment at his side before she returned to the uncomfortable chair to resume her vigil.

Killian refused to let go.

Emma struggled for a moment to wiggle out of his grip, certain that he’d fallen asleep before she’d lowered him down.  “Kil-”

“-Stay,” he whispered in her ear, tightening his grip as much as he was able.

Emma huffed out a breath when his words registered.  “I don’t think-”

“-Please?” Emma could hear the note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask.

Well, what was she supposed to do when he sounded like that?

Emma shifted around until her back didn’t feel like she was twisted in a pretzel, her head under his chin and her arms wrapped around his torso.  There was no way she wasn’t pressing against some injury or other, no way that Liam or the doctors or the nurses weren’t going to have some protest against this new arrangement.

But Killian’s breathing eased and his grip slackened as she felt his relief as palpably as if it had coursed through her instead of him.  She forced herself to stay awake until his breathing evened out and his soft snores harmonized with Liam’s from across the room.  Once she was sure he was asleep, she closed her eyes with a fierce thought.

They’d have to pry Killian out of her cold, dead fingers before she’d leave his embrace as long as he wanted her there.

Killian was just done with it all.  

He was done with the nurses and their constant attention, the doctors and their constant disapproval of his escape attempts.  He was done with his brother’s incessant coddling and his… and Emma’s smug smile as she dared him to prove he was “just fine” as he continuously claimed.

He wasn’t fine.  

He knew that.

Perhaps he’d just like someone to pretend for a moment.  Or two.

The pulmonary lung function tests that the therapists tortured him with on a relatively structured basis told him exactly how poorly he was still doing in objective numbers.  His face was still badly swollen, the burns itched, he was sure he could feel every bone as it knit back together, and he was all-around miserable.

But Liam had pulled some strings, and as soon as the respiratory terrorists – as he’d come to call them in his head – were placated, he was being transported via medical transport back to Boston.  Whale was waiting for him with a litany of his own tests and restrictions, Killian was sure, but at least he’d be on his own turf.

And Emma had barely left his side.  Liam had offered to send her home after the first few touch and go days, but she’d refused.  She had started out as Killian’s partner, she told his brother, and so she was going to end it the same way.

It took a few more days, and more than a little cajoling, but Killian was able to walk from one end of the corridor to the other without oxygen, his fever had stayed broken for more than 48 hours, and his lung functions were “passable”.  The medical staff agreed that he was well enough to be transported to Whale’s care.

He was going home.

Drugged up beyond belief, apparently, if the fact that he was sitting in a wheelchair in Logan Airport before he realized they’d taken off from Chicago was any indication.  Part of Killian was convinced that the doctors at Northwestern had given him so much medication as revenge for all the trouble he had caused; the rational part of him was glad he didn’t remember the flight.

He bore the use of the wheelchair with ill-disguised distaste.  He had been itching to walk out of the airport on his own, but the looks on Liam and Emma’s faces disabused him of that inclination.

Killian heard Michael before he saw him.  The little boy yelled for Emma, then tore free of Wendy’s grip and bolted across the floor until he was wrapped around Emma’s legs.  His sister came up at a more sedate pace and behind her was the couple Killian had seen only briefly in the hospital all those weeks ago – the ones concerned that Emma had signed herself out AMA after being attacked by Malcolm.

“Emma!”  The petite woman with black hair called out with a high-pitched squeal as she followed Michael’s example and wrapped Emma in a hug.  Her husband followed suit, cradling the back of her blonde head protectively as his other arm wrapped around both women.  “Graham couldn’t tell us anything.  We’ve been so worried!”

“I know,” Emma spoke into their shoulders, “I’m sorry.  How did you know I was here?”

“I thought you might want them here, so I called them, lass,” Liam interjected, reaching out to shake the man’s outstretched hand.  “You must be David and Mary Margaret?”

David replaced his hand on the back of Emma’s head and Killian smiled at the gesture.  The couple were protecting her from anything and everything, and he was glad to see that someone other than him wanted that for her.

It took her a minute, but eventually Emma stepped back from her whispered conversation and stepped up to his side.  “This is Killian.  He’s the reason we were able to get Michael back.  He’s the reason we found Wendy.”

Mary Margaret stepped forward and surprised him.  She reached down and hugged him tightly.  “Thank you for bringing them all home.”

He smiled in response, but could feel the tips of his ears heat up.  He didn’t think he deserved the thanks.  

Emma and Liam had saved him.

“What is it you do exactly, Killian?”  David asked, reaching forward to shake his hand.  There was a sharp edge to his words.

Killian looked to Liam.  This was why he preferred to fade into the background.

“He’s a freelance hero.”  Emma cut in with a smile, her eyes sparkling with laughter and deflecting the seriousness of the question easily.

Killian laughed until he started coughing.  It took him a moment to catch his breath, her hand rubbing his back until he could sit up straight.  Unable to let her best him, however, he countered with, “You make me sound like I have tights and a cape, love.”

David and Mary Margaret looked a bit perplexed, but let it go as Michael and Wendy came forward to shake his hand as well.  He was surprised when Michael climbed into his lap and curled against his chest.

“Thank you for saving me,” he whispered into Killian’s ear.  

He had to bite his tongue to keep the tears at bay.  “Of course, lad.”

“Can I have a ride?” the boy asked innocently, grinning when Killian nodded.

It hurt far less than Killian would have imagined when he realized Michael’s smile matched John’s exactly.  He settled the boy more securely and let Liam push them both towards the exit.

It took them another few minutes before they made it out to the waiting SUV and Killian could feel his strength waning.  He wanted nothing more than to sink into the front seat and nap until they got back to the brownstone.  To his own bed.  

To his home.

But as Liam shut the passenger side door after making sure Killian was set, he realized that, of course, Emma wasn’t following.  For the first time since he’d saved her from… since she’d saved herself from her burning apartment, they weren’t going the same way.

His phone rang with a text.  It was an unknown number.

Your brother better not have lost my blanket!

Killian laughed so hard that his ribs protested.

They were going to be just fine.

So, I kind of sorta maybe (unintentionally) misled you all a couple weeks ago when I said that I wouldn’t be able to post this chapter last week because it was the holidays.  As I was rereading it after I posted chapter 17, I discovered that I disliked approximately 90% of how I wrote this chapter originally.  I knew I wasn’t going to be happy with it if I posted as is, so with the holidays, I wasn’t going to have time to rewrite it.  After Christmas, I sat down and rewrote pretty much the entire chapter and, in doing so, kind of sorta maybe wrote so much more into it that I added an entire chapter’s length.  The epilogue-y bit that was SUPPOSED to go at the end of this chapter kind of sorta maybe will be posted either next Wednesday or the Wednesday after.  Since it’s likely going to be almost (if not completely) as long as this chapter was.

[fluffi]

i think it was because god's menu was released around the same bp and svt made their comebacks. same thoughts tho on gm > bd and i was also glad that bd got the wins gm didn't. and same with the streaming mvs while studying : ] ahh, the easily distracted people we are. (reading cut and litol font bc poor ppl who see this on the dash TT)

i've heard chinese ballads (usually osts of films and from a chinese friend) and their songs really tend to tug on my heartstrings. i hope sm gives shotaro more stuff to do soon :[ with some of the units being active and sungchan being an mc on a weekly show, it makes me wonder what he's doing. do you think nct will form a new subunit?

no, i'm not lactose intolerant so it really took me by surprise. it was a one-time thing. hopefully it doesn't happen again. i can't really say i'm a big fan of ice cream but it's good occasionally yk as a treat to yourself. and ahhh, i miss drinking smoothies. my favorite stall has been closed for nearly two years now, idk if they ever re-opened since our city mall burned down :[

i think it's an nct thing? it's why i never get tired of them bc they're always active in a way. you should've seen how things went down last year! march 127 album, april dream mini-album, may 127 repackage, june wayv album and the whole nct 2020 thing. it was a wild year. about the track, i listened to it once and forgot about it. might give it a few more listens but it might not grow on me at all. yes! wasn't a big fan of hot sauce at first too bc i thought the intro was weird (not jaemin's part, like the first thing that plays). and yes, that hook loops in my head 24/7. i even made it my instagram bio.

stray kids world domination indeed! and i agree that their performances were really impressive (specially the deadpool one, best one yet) but sometimes i would fancy ateez' more. i didn't watch kingdom too bc it stressed me out as a multi. always caught between being happy for one group and being sad for the others. and atz and tbz! you're still getting into nct and you're thinking of adding 19 more boys! judging from what i know your taste in music is, i think you'll like tbz's music better since there are a lot more soft songs there than in atz. but do give both discographies a listen in the future!

oh izone! i've only heard of them at music shows and dance choreo compilations bc of them being in sync. they're really satisfying to watch! i thought their title tracks were catchy as well! quite unfortunate that i never got into them really. but again, i dont think i can handle stanning temporary groups.

i'm starting to see a pattern in your biases :D i wouldn't be too surprised if you'll be drawn to jeno at some point in your dream venture. dream is soooo easy to love so if you really end up ulting them, i would understand why. and also, YES PLEASE WRITE FOR DREAM AND TAG ME IF YOU WILL. THANK YOU ><

thank you! :c don't get your hopes up tho, the masterlist must've been interesting to browse but are the fics truly worth it? XD i think not. since you already know koe, i'm reccing users @/rouiyan, @/nsheetee and @/loonacitys. i don't have that much fluff in my ficrecs blog. i think, i've heard of lvdsc before (maybe even read a fic or two) but i can't find their blog now. be careful in privating your works, you might end up losing them forever if you don't keep track of their links...(?) that's what happened to the works that i privated :/ take me with you if you move blogs ;n;

seungmin frequently left updates abt what he was doing, left good nights and good mornings, the occasional i miss you. he called fans 'baby' once. not sure if it was a mistranslation, or really just a one-time endearment. other than that, nothing beyond the usual. seung vlives always make me cry ;n; he always look so adorable and precious. also the gif, the fic was more on fake head-butting really but yes you could say it was also a fake nose boop bc it sounds cuter. i'll make sure to tag you on future seung content on the dash. (time to officially claim him as your ult, yes. dont make him secret anymore :3)

sorry it took me a while. tumblr went batshit. the ' werkl;' stopped working midway and i got busy with school yesterday. also haechan birth today and i'm so emo abt it. it's literally just a boy turning 21.

little font and cut saga lets go!!

(just kidding, i cant do little font typing for long periods of time, makes my eyes go beserk haha.)

true true, im afraid for txt on music shows now because theyre going against some big names (literally bts like whatj jsdf what was hybe thinking). yeah, streaming mvs while studying aka watching mvs on loop lmao. i still want to stream skzs final kingdom performance on instinct but i remember that theyve already won!! hehe

ah chinese ballads always make me emo, i like to scream out lyrics to the songs at the top of my lungs and sit there on the verge of tears. its a cultural thing maybe *sobs*. ooh, what show is sungchan mc-ing in? ill check it out. i thought sm would make nct japan for sungtaro (i heard sungchan speaks japanese) so it was a shocker when they made...nct hollywood lmao. given the current circumstances we're probably not going to get a new subunit anytime soon :( hopefully taro will have stuff to showcase during that period of time.

burned down?? oh my, what happened to your mall? that sounds terrifying. i remember when the front of my school caught on fire and we were all ushered out but we thought it was a drill and didnt find out till years later lmao.

oh true, since theyre such a big pack too. constant comebacks and promotions haha, nctzens never catch a break with 23 members. i listened to the new track again (ive forgotten the name already) but i cant- i cant do it. its just not my style hhh. i rewatched the mv for the godly visuals though. i dont know if youre talking about that 'bibididibibidiododo' part by that female morphed voice at the beginning of the song, because i wasnt a fan of that too. it grew on me though.

same, actually! im not an atiny and dont stan any other group in the show besides skz but i watched each groups performance and ranked them haha. at times ateez would rank over skz, it was wild. also yeah, my other multi friend was freaking out about kingdom and ended up abandoning the show because she was so scared of the fanwars and having to deal with her 'conflicting feelings'. about the stanning thing, in my defense, i have a list of groups i want to stan and ive recently added tbz and atz. the list is long, i have a long way to go! also yeah, i dont prefer ateez's songs and i have a bunch of tbz title tracks in my playlist but if i approach their discography like i did with nct then i think i would like at least five songs.

izone are my queens. theres a reason why theyre the only girl group who made it to my ult list haha! super talented and filled with variety and visuals, a perfectly concocted group (literally, sobs in pd48 scandal). ah, temporary groups. yeah i cried about their disbandment for like 3 days straight, it was bad.

a pATTERN?? INTERESTING. DO ELABORATE. jeno, oh my gosh hes like bang chan. an intimidating-looking bear whos actually filled with love and softness on the inside. im currently having a jaemin run though, his make a wish fancam is doing some wacky things. also yeah, dream is really easy to love. i fell for them so hard, theyre all talented and cute and adorable and the team ambiance is so nice. really rising up my stan list now. i mightt write for dream! ill have to see, hehe.

personally i think the fics are going to be worth it. i can feel it in my boOOnes. ooh, recommendations! fun :D ill check them (and yours) out after i finish this 30k jisung fic. ive been trying to finish it since yesterday but i keep getting sidetracked. also, i made a mistake. its luvdsc with a 'u', maybe thats why you couldnt find it? ahh. thank you for the privating tip though! will keep in mind. and of course ill take you with me if/when i move blogs. we're friends now! <3

SEUNGMIN CALLED STAYS 'BABY'???!!@)(@#*()! I SHOULDVE BEEN THERE ASKDFJDF. im exciting for the fake nose boop drabble!! i love soft couple moments hehe. also yeah maybe its time to make him my ult...hes going to have to compete against jake my beloved ope.

dont worry about being 'late' or anything! we all have our own stuff to do. also yeah tumblr is weird asf sometimes. if you havent realized i typically answer longer asks around the same time everyday, when i get to sit in front of my computer and pull out my clickity-clackity keyboard. super relaxing.

AND YES HYUCKIE DAY!!! HES SO ADORABLE HONESTLY. im in love with all seven members of dream, my fic rec blog is currently filled with fics for them haha.

[chocolate-brownies]

“I Tried 40 Days of Yoga, Meditating, and Chanting at 3 a.m. Every Morning”

“I Tried 40 Days of Yoga, Meditating, and Chanting at 3 a.m. Every Morning”:

Here’s what happened.

Sadhana involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days. 

One early morning last November, my doorman, Jose, who usually says it like it is, took one look at me and said, “What happened to you? You used to look sexy. Now you look like you never sleep anymore.”

His statement stung. I wanted to say, “Well I don’t sleep anymore. Not since I started Sadhana.” But then I’d have to explain what Sadhana meant. And why do I have to justify how I look? So, I said nothing.

But it was true. I was barely sleeping, and the dark circles under my eyes, chronic yawning, and 10 extra pounds I’d put on in a matter of just a few weeks were all byproducts of my commitment to complete 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana.

Why I Tried 40 Days of Sadhana

For about a year prior to starting Sadhana—which involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days—I’d seen Facebook ads for it. Several friends swore by its benefits, and I’d read many articles about its transformative powers, such as increased energy, mental clarity, and a plethora of blessings. Many spiritual paths have a practice of getting up before sunrise to pray. That special time is called Amrit Vela, which translates as the Nectar of God. When you give two and a half hours to a spiritual source, your entire day is covered with blessings. And who doesn’t want more blessings?

For years I’d been trying to finish writing a book, create an online program, and get into shape—but I lacked self-commitment and follow through. In Sanskrit, Sadhana literally means accomplishing something. I wanted to strengthen my commitment to both my spiritual practice and word to myself. I’ve never been an early riser, so I told myself, If I can wake up at 3 a.m. for the divine, I can do anything!

For the next 40 days, I woke up at 2:30 a.m., put on my white clothes and head covering, and drove to a yoga studio where I practiced yoga, sang songs to my soul, and chanted Aquarian mantras. I tried to go to sleep each night no later than 8 p.m. each night to attempt at least five or six hours of shut-eye. But no matter how many hot baths I took, Chamomile teas I drank, or minutes I spent breathing through my left nostril to relax, I couldn’t fall asleep until it was time to wake up again.

For the first week, I was very enthusiastic and surprised by how little sleep I needed to function. But then, somewhere around day eight, I came home after Sadhana and passed out until noon, which only messed up my circadian rhythm further. As my levels of exhaustion increased, so did my weight. I wondered how the other yogis in the room were doing it. Some of them were on day 50, 60, 90 and even 240. I was assured that if I could get enough sleep, I would be OK.

According to our Sadhana group leader, the secret to a successful Sadhana was getting enough sleep. I’d never had difficulty falling asleep before. But I’d also never woken before 7:30 am, and my nerves were keeping me up.

Somewhere around day 20, my very traditional Russian father called to tell me that he and my mother were worried. They’d recently seen my photos of me on Facebook and asked why I looked so exhausted, bloated, and pale. I was too tired to explain that I had signed up for a sacred practice meant to elevate my soul (and what that meant). Instead, I tagged him on the Facebook live Sadhana page so he could see what I was up to. The following night he called me and said, “Your mother and I saw the video. Are you in a cult? All those people in white look like mental patients.”

Was I really back here again, having another conversation like this with my parents? Some 10 years ago, I came out of the closet as a Feng Shui consultant. My parents wished it was just a phase, lied to their friends that I was an interior designer, and insisted that spirituality is for people that don’t want to work.

See also “Something Happens as I Continue to Chant…”

The Realization That Sadhana May Not Be For Me

On day 30, I went to see a medical intuitive who told me that I was suffering from liver insomnia and severe adrenal fatigue. I had no idea that our livers wake up around 4 a.m. Which meant that when I was getting up to do yoga so early, it was really hard on my liver. I already had mild symptoms of adrenal fatigue before starting Sadhana and didn’t know that feeling wired and tired were the hallmarks of that condition. It explained why I was having so much trouble falling asleep.

I reached out to a friend who’s a Kundalini yoga instructor to tell her that I was going to quit because I couldn’t take it anymore, and she urged me not to. “Everything that’s coming up for you is coming up for healing and clearing,” she told me. Translation for spiritual neophytes? “Your moodiness, liver issues, obsession with weight, and needing other people’s approval was probably always there, and now you’re ready to deal with it.”

I thought I’d dealt with all of that years ago—at least the obsession with weight and needing others’ approval. But the onion has many layers. And maybe Sadhana was fast-tracking the peeling of mine.

I pushed through. Because that’s what I do.

I began to wonder if I’m just a masochist and maybe what I really need is to get back into therapy. Then, I reminded myself that I am a therapist. In fact, I’m actually a spiritual psychotherapist and should know by now if something is good for me.

See also Kundalini 101: Kriya for Balancing Your Eighth Chakra (Auric Field)

Sadhana: The Results of 40 Days of Yoga, Meditation, and Chanting

At the end of the 40 days, a few things happened. First, I felt satisfied that I was able to finish what I started. Next, I finally got a good night’s rest. Then, I spent hundreds of dollars on herbal tinctures and vitamins meant to restore my liver and adrenals. A few small blessings did arrive. I finally found an incredible illustrator for my book and a week later, two of the wellness hotels in Miami Beach where I really wanted to teach finally came through with proposals. Overall, the experience was a mixed bag.

While unfortunate, I don’t think we—as a culture—are equipped to support someone embarking on a 40-day adventure that may cause little or no sleep. Especially if that someone has lots of responsibilities. I think it would’ve been easier, and I could’ve treated the practice with more reverence, had I been on retreat or on an ashram somewhere. But we don’t all have the luxury of going away for a month. I know I don’t.

Forty days of so little sleep would be hard on anyone, regardless of the spiritual path they were on. My advice: If you want to start 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana, please get your adrenals tested first. Make sure your life supports the potentially crazy sleep schedule, and that you have lots of time to rest and contemplate the process.

Also, listen to your body. If you feel like it’s getting to be too much, don’t turn to this all-too-common default: “Exhaustion? Oh, it’s probably just my negative mind trying to sabotage me.” There’s nothing enlightened about wearing yourself down to become more spiritual.

See also Kundalini 101: What Is the Aquarian Age, Anyway?

[cedarrrun]

Here’s what happened.

Sadhana involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days. 

One early morning last November, my doorman, Jose, who usually says it like it is, took one look at me and said, “What happened to you? You used to look sexy. Now you look like you never sleep anymore.”

His statement stung. I wanted to say, “Well I don’t sleep anymore. Not since I started Sadhana.” But then I’d have to explain what Sadhana meant. And why do I have to justify how I look? So, I said nothing.

But it was true. I was barely sleeping, and the dark circles under my eyes, chronic yawning, and 10 extra pounds I’d put on in a matter of just a few weeks were all byproducts of my commitment to complete 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana.

Why I Tried 40 Days of Sadhana

For about a year prior to starting Sadhana—which involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days—I’d seen Facebook ads for it. Several friends swore by its benefits, and I’d read many articles about its transformative powers, such as increased energy, mental clarity, and a plethora of blessings. Many spiritual paths have a practice of getting up before sunrise to pray. That special time is called Amrit Vela, which translates as the Nectar of God. When you give two and a half hours to a spiritual source, your entire day is covered with blessings. And who doesn’t want more blessings?

For years I’d been trying to finish writing a book, create an online program, and get into shape—but I lacked self-commitment and follow through. In Sanskrit, Sadhana literally means accomplishing something. I wanted to strengthen my commitment to both my spiritual practice and word to myself. I’ve never been an early riser, so I told myself, If I can wake up at 3 a.m. for the divine, I can do anything!

For the next 40 days, I woke up at 2:30 a.m., put on my white clothes and head covering, and drove to a yoga studio where I practiced yoga, sang songs to my soul, and chanted Aquarian mantras. I tried to go to sleep each night no later than 8 p.m. each night to attempt at least five or six hours of shut-eye. But no matter how many hot baths I took, Chamomile teas I drank, or minutes I spent breathing through my left nostril to relax, I couldn’t fall asleep until it was time to wake up again.

For the first week, I was very enthusiastic and surprised by how little sleep I needed to function. But then, somewhere around day eight, I came home after Sadhana and passed out until noon, which only messed up my circadian rhythm further. As my levels of exhaustion increased, so did my weight. I wondered how the other yogis in the room were doing it. Some of them were on day 50, 60, 90 and even 240. I was assured that if I could get enough sleep, I would be OK.

According to our Sadhana group leader, the secret to a successful Sadhana was getting enough sleep. I’d never had difficulty falling asleep before. But I’d also never woken before 7:30 am, and my nerves were keeping me up.

Somewhere around day 20, my very traditional Russian father called to tell me that he and my mother were worried. They’d recently seen my photos of me on Facebook and asked why I looked so exhausted, bloated, and pale. I was too tired to explain that I had signed up for a sacred practice meant to elevate my soul (and what that meant). Instead, I tagged him on the Facebook live Sadhana page so he could see what I was up to. The following night he called me and said, “Your mother and I saw the video. Are you in a cult? All those people in white look like mental patients.”

Was I really back here again, having another conversation like this with my parents? Some 10 years ago, I came out of the closet as a Feng Shui consultant. My parents wished it was just a phase, lied to their friends that I was an interior designer, and insisted that spirituality is for people that don’t want to work.

See also "Something Happens as I Continue to Chant..."

The Realization That Sadhana May Not Be For Me

On day 30, I went to see a medical intuitive who told me that I was suffering from liver insomnia and severe adrenal fatigue. I had no idea that our livers wake up around 4 a.m. Which meant that when I was getting up to do yoga so early, it was really hard on my liver. I already had mild symptoms of adrenal fatigue before starting Sadhana and didn’t know that feeling wired and tired were the hallmarks of that condition. It explained why I was having so much trouble falling asleep.

I reached out to a friend who’s a Kundalini yoga instructor to tell her that I was going to quit because I couldn't take it anymore, and she urged me not to. “Everything that's coming up for you is coming up for healing and clearing,” she told me. Translation for spiritual neophytes? “Your moodiness, liver issues, obsession with weight, and needing other people’s approval was probably always there, and now you’re ready to deal with it.”

I thought I’d dealt with all of that years ago—at least the obsession with weight and needing others’ approval. But the onion has many layers. And maybe Sadhana was fast-tracking the peeling of mine.

I pushed through. Because that’s what I do.

I began to wonder if I’m just a masochist and maybe what I really need is to get back into therapy. Then, I reminded myself that I am a therapist. In fact, I’m actually a spiritual psychotherapist and should know by now if something is good for me.

See also Kundalini 101: Kriya for Balancing Your Eighth Chakra (Auric Field)

Sadhana: The Results of 40 Days of Yoga, Meditation, and Chanting

At the end of the 40 days, a few things happened. First, I felt satisfied that I was able to finish what I started. Next, I finally got a good night’s rest. Then, I spent hundreds of dollars on herbal tinctures and vitamins meant to restore my liver and adrenals. A few small blessings did arrive. I finally found an incredible illustrator for my book and a week later, two of the wellness hotels in Miami Beach where I really wanted to teach finally came through with proposals. Overall, the experience was a mixed bag.

While unfortunate, I don’t think we—as a culture—are equipped to support someone embarking on a 40-day adventure that may cause little or no sleep. Especially if that someone has lots of responsibilities. I think it would’ve been easier, and I could’ve treated the practice with more reverence, had I been on retreat or on an ashram somewhere. But we don’t all have the luxury of going away for a month. I know I don’t.

Forty days of so little sleep would be hard on anyone, regardless of the spiritual path they were on. My advice: If you want to start 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana, please get your adrenals tested first. Make sure your life supports the potentially crazy sleep schedule, and that you have lots of time to rest and contemplate the process.

Also, listen to your body. If you feel like it’s getting to be too much, don't turn to this all-too-common default: “Exhaustion? Oh, it’s probably just my negative mind trying to sabotage me.” There’s nothing enlightened about wearing yourself down to become more spiritual.

See also Kundalini 101: What Is the Aquarian Age, Anyway?

[krisiunicornio]

Here’s what happened.

Sadhana involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days. 

One early morning last November, my doorman, Jose, who usually says it like it is, took one look at me and said, “What happened to you? You used to look sexy. Now you look like you never sleep anymore.”

His statement stung. I wanted to say, “Well I don’t sleep anymore. Not since I started Sadhana.” But then I’d have to explain what Sadhana meant. And why do I have to justify how I look? So, I said nothing.

But it was true. I was barely sleeping, and the dark circles under my eyes, chronic yawning, and 10 extra pounds I’d put on in a matter of just a few weeks were all byproducts of my commitment to complete 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana.

Why I Tried 40 Days of Sadhana

For about a year prior to starting Sadhana—which involves two and a half hours of yoga, meditation, and chanting starting 3 a.m. for 40 days—I’d seen Facebook ads for it. Several friends swore by its benefits, and I’d read many articles about its transformative powers, such as increased energy, mental clarity, and a plethora of blessings. Many spiritual paths have a practice of getting up before sunrise to pray. That special time is called Amrit Vela, which translates as the Nectar of God. When you give two and a half hours to a spiritual source, your entire day is covered with blessings. And who doesn’t want more blessings?

For years I’d been trying to finish writing a book, create an online program, and get into shape—but I lacked self-commitment and follow through. In Sanskrit, Sadhana literally means accomplishing something. I wanted to strengthen my commitment to both my spiritual practice and word to myself. I’ve never been an early riser, so I told myself, If I can wake up at 3 a.m. for the divine, I can do anything!

For the next 40 days, I woke up at 2:30 a.m., put on my white clothes and head covering, and drove to a yoga studio where I practiced yoga, sang songs to my soul, and chanted Aquarian mantras. I tried to go to sleep each night no later than 8 p.m. each night to attempt at least five or six hours of shut-eye. But no matter how many hot baths I took, Chamomile teas I drank, or minutes I spent breathing through my left nostril to relax, I couldn’t fall asleep until it was time to wake up again.

For the first week, I was very enthusiastic and surprised by how little sleep I needed to function. But then, somewhere around day eight, I came home after Sadhana and passed out until noon, which only messed up my circadian rhythm further. As my levels of exhaustion increased, so did my weight. I wondered how the other yogis in the room were doing it. Some of them were on day 50, 60, 90 and even 240. I was assured that if I could get enough sleep, I would be OK.

According to our Sadhana group leader, the secret to a successful Sadhana was getting enough sleep. I’d never had difficulty falling asleep before. But I’d also never woken before 7:30 am, and my nerves were keeping me up.

Somewhere around day 20, my very traditional Russian father called to tell me that he and my mother were worried. They’d recently seen my photos of me on Facebook and asked why I looked so exhausted, bloated, and pale. I was too tired to explain that I had signed up for a sacred practice meant to elevate my soul (and what that meant). Instead, I tagged him on the Facebook live Sadhana page so he could see what I was up to. The following night he called me and said, “Your mother and I saw the video. Are you in a cult? All those people in white look like mental patients.”

Was I really back here again, having another conversation like this with my parents? Some 10 years ago, I came out of the closet as a Feng Shui consultant. My parents wished it was just a phase, lied to their friends that I was an interior designer, and insisted that spirituality is for people that don’t want to work.

See also "Something Happens as I Continue to Chant..."

The Realization That Sadhana May Not Be For Me

On day 30, I went to see a medical intuitive who told me that I was suffering from liver insomnia and severe adrenal fatigue. I had no idea that our livers wake up around 4 a.m. Which meant that when I was getting up to do yoga so early, it was really hard on my liver. I already had mild symptoms of adrenal fatigue before starting Sadhana and didn’t know that feeling wired and tired were the hallmarks of that condition. It explained why I was having so much trouble falling asleep.

I reached out to a friend who’s a Kundalini yoga instructor to tell her that I was going to quit because I couldn't take it anymore, and she urged me not to. “Everything that's coming up for you is coming up for healing and clearing,” she told me. Translation for spiritual neophytes? “Your moodiness, liver issues, obsession with weight, and needing other people’s approval was probably always there, and now you’re ready to deal with it.”

I thought I’d dealt with all of that years ago—at least the obsession with weight and needing others’ approval. But the onion has many layers. And maybe Sadhana was fast-tracking the peeling of mine.

I pushed through. Because that’s what I do.

I began to wonder if I’m just a masochist and maybe what I really need is to get back into therapy. Then, I reminded myself that I am a therapist. In fact, I’m actually a spiritual psychotherapist and should know by now if something is good for me.

See also Kundalini 101: Kriya for Balancing Your Eighth Chakra (Auric Field)

Sadhana: The Results of 40 Days of Yoga, Meditation, and Chanting

At the end of the 40 days, a few things happened. First, I felt satisfied that I was able to finish what I started. Next, I finally got a good night’s rest. Then, I spent hundreds of dollars on herbal tinctures and vitamins meant to restore my liver and adrenals. A few small blessings did arrive. I finally found an incredible illustrator for my book and a week later, two of the wellness hotels in Miami Beach where I really wanted to teach finally came through with proposals. Overall, the experience was a mixed bag.

While unfortunate, I don’t think we—as a culture—are equipped to support someone embarking on a 40-day adventure that may cause little or no sleep. Especially if that someone has lots of responsibilities. I think it would’ve been easier, and I could’ve treated the practice with more reverence, had I been on retreat or on an ashram somewhere. But we don’t all have the luxury of going away for a month. I know I don’t.

Forty days of so little sleep would be hard on anyone, regardless of the spiritual path they were on. My advice: If you want to start 40 days of Kundalini Aquarian morning Sadhana, please get your adrenals tested first. Make sure your life supports the potentially crazy sleep schedule, and that you have lots of time to rest and contemplate the process.

Also, listen to your body. If you feel like it’s getting to be too much, don't turn to this all-too-common default: “Exhaustion? Oh, it’s probably just my negative mind trying to sabotage me.” There’s nothing enlightened about wearing yourself down to become more spiritual.

See also Kundalini 101: What Is the Aquarian Age, Anyway?

[thecrazycrow]

So what if in an alt timeline, Sanzie sets up an auto reaponder becase she was going to be away from her husktop for a while ;; So I wrote this 3 years ago and just cleaned it up literally 5 minutes ago.I cried when I wrote this pls

Your name is Rifske Sirrah, and you're not quite sure what to do now. Your matespirit is laying on her side not too far from you. Looking at her tattered wings and giant wound in her back, you kneel next to her and pull her into your lap. You know exactly where it came from. The giant beast that tried to kill you, got her instead. She jumped in the way to save you. She survived long enough to whisper a dying, "I love you," before fading out. Everyone left the planet, retreating to safety and taking her with us. You stare at her for a moment, the reality of the situation finally setting in. It was a heroic death for her. She's not coming back this time. Kneeling next to her, you take in everything you can as your eyes begin to tear up. From her eyes that won't shine when she looks at you or her friends. To her cheeks that won't flush every time you randomly give her a kiss for no reason other than just because. To her lips that will never give you her adorable smile, or laugh, ever again. To those same lips you can never kiss again. Your heart gives a pang, because it's almost as if she's asleep, like you can shake her awake and everything will be ok again.

A tear rolls down your cheek, followed by another. You realize you aren't the only one crying, because you hear Sanzie's little moirail sobbing into Corlin's shoulder. Right now, you don't have the willpower to do anything, so you settle for clenching your eyes shut as you collapse. You bury your face in the purple fabric of her god tier tunic, your arms wrapping around her torso. You can feel tears staining the fabric. Your body shakes as you cry, and the salty sweet smell of your tears mixes with her natural sweet smell, before almost completely blurring it out. You can feel the warmth slowly leaving her body, and it's like your matespirit is slipping away from you more and more. You whisper in a small, defeated tone, "Please don't leave me, I love you." You're not sure why you say it, because deep down you know it won't bring her back, yet you say it anyway. You couldn't keep track of the number of times you repeted that while you held your dead matespirit and cried.

~~~~~~~~

Months have passed since your matespirit's death. Your heart still hurts and your pillows no longer carry her scent. You haven't slept in a few days, you can't. So instead you've been on Trollian the whole time. A ping sounds to notify you that someone came online. Your stomach drops as the lime green text pops up, zealousTestimony. Confusion arises, this must be a joke, right? You've seen her tag pop on and off, in the same times she was usually on. It's almost like it was at the start of the game, you were both too busy with your planets and spoke through Trollian for what felt like forever. You're almost sure that this is some cruel joke. Some troll or imp is sitting on her husktop, laughing. You open a chat window under her tag, and send out a quick message

SK: is this some kind of joke?

A few seconds later, a message pops back

ZT: W#at do you mean :?

What kind of question is that?

SK: This is a joke right? You're just some troll sitting on trollian laughing about getting a chance to fuck around on my matespirit's account, aren't you? ZT: No ZT: W#y would I do t#at? ZT: Foxy, it's me

You shake your head. No, that's impossible. Sanzie died.

SK: Alright seriously, Who the fuck are You? You can't be her. I held her as she died. The warmth left her body while she was in my arms. ZT: Well w#o exactly would it be smartass? ZT: I'm as much of Sanzie Nivera as I can get

Well there's no denying that's how she would respond. Your heart gave a ridiculous flutter.

SK: ReallY? ZT: Of course

Maybe your planet was floating through a dream bubble. Or the last time Corlin messed with your husktop it accidentally opened up to inter timeline communication.

SK: HoW is this eVen happening ZT: I'm sitting in my #ive on my #usktop ZT: #ow else? SK: Well I remember You had Your autoresponder function up for a While, When did that change? ZT: It seems you have asked about Sanzie's chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate Sanzie's typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while she is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 90% indistinguishable from Sanzie's native neurological responses, based on some statistical analysis.

Tears well up in your eyes, as the small flutter in your heart stopped. You knew it was too good to be true.

SK: Oh I see ZT: Was it somet#ing I said?

Of course the stupid program wouldn't remember that it just blurted its identity.

SK: no, neVermind it. I'll talk to You later Sanz. Foxdad needs me. ZT: Well ok ZT: Talk to you later t#en ZT: :heart:

You felt your throat close up as you tried to hold back your tears.

SK: :heart: SK: ActuallY, he took care of it alreadY. ZT: Sweet, so you can stay and talk ZT: Rig#t? c: SK: Sure can

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just pretend for a while, just a little while, that everything was ok. That everything was the way it used to be.