#like that white girl who was physically abusive to her black boyfriend she had the social control tjay he could never defend himself

[cruelsister-moved2]

tbh im hesitant around most attempts to like analyse fundamentals of abuse or something bc it's so intensely complicated and it matters who has the power in the relationship and that can be so difficult to even tell from a distance. like, abusive men LOVE to go ummm but she slapped me and yeah that sounds like abuse but then you realise that he was physically capable of killing her and she was constantly terrified for her life, and suddenly it feels different. or hearing that a strong, tall man lashed out at a woman sounds like he's abusing her, but what if he's disabled with high support needs and relies on her to eat and wash and leave the house, and she controls all his finances and interactions with others. you can frame these situations in infinitely different ways so attempts to standardise abuse criteria usually just hands the distinction over to whoever has the power to control the narrative while ppl believe theyre discerning something objectively based on facts

[sourjinss]

⁀➷ ‎‎YOU STAY ON MY MIND

➼ PROLOGUE ⋆ did you ever? ⋆ NEXT CHAPTER

➼  PARING ⋆ tattooartist!taehyung! + bartender!fem!reader

➼ PRÉCIS ⋆  after a rough patch in your relationship you and your boyfriend are finally on solid ground but that all goes to hell when his older brother, taehyung comes to visit.

➼ CAUTION! ⋆ cheating sexual themes verbal abuse toxic relations this is pure fiction does not relate to idol physical altercations fluffy and sweet (yay) angst (boo) slow burn?? side jungkoook story?

APPLE!! - i hope you like the prologue of this new series i'm doin its gonna start off slow so give me grace itll get better pinky promise. ill update every friday if you're interested lol, thanks for reading! <3 xoxo

➼ PLAY THIS ⋆ one more shot by CIL

THE DAY you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you was the day a little piece of your heart died.

it was busy night at the bar you worked at, some old woman complained every three fucking minutes about her shriley temple, a teenage boy trying to get alcohol at the ripe age of 17 called you a slut for not going through with the transaction.

you were exhausted and all you really wanted to is go home to your boyfriend; mingyu and him to tell you did good today, that you looked beautiful despite the sticky stain on your black top and the grease in your hair.  that’s all you wanted, truly. now that you thought about it your boyfriend never texted you back when you asked him about a late dinner.

opening white gate to your home you frown when you see another car in your drive-way. your small black cat could be seen in the window by the entrance starring directly at you, tail whipping behind her almost angrily. sighing you pulled out the keys you hated when mingyu had invited friends over and not informed you.

unlocking the door, you frowned even harder if that was possible when you didn’t find him on the couch where he usually resides to jump up and greet you with so much love. “mingyu?” you called as you set down your car keys and bag slipping out your shoes grunting gently as your tired feet plants on your hard wood floor.

 mingyu didn’t answer your call which had kind of irritate you because you knew he was up he was always up at this time, walking towards your bedroom as you closed in you began to hear noises, noises that sounded like his groans when he bedded you

that's when your heart started to pound in your chest and your breathing seemed to stop you knew what was happening behind that door you but wanted to believe otherwise.  

throwing the door open what was unfolding in front of you was worse than the absolute shitty day you had it was worse than first hangover you got the freshmen year of college, worse then the day you crashed your first car it frankly made you sick.

mingyu was huffing and groaning profusely, the sweat that glistened and shined off his inked back that you loved to observe when he exercised was then twisted into the worst image that your eyes ever lied on.   

the girl who you recognized to be one of his clients, the girl who you were told to not worry about when she requested for mingyu to tattoo her where its most sensitive. the blonde girl screamed when she snapped out of the trance that mingyu put her in and that seemed to make him snap out of it as well.

“yn!” he shouted eyes widening with shock

you stood there numb, see if you could cry at the moment, you would but instead you looked mingyu in the eye and opened your mouth to say fiercely “you got two and a half seconds to get out my motherfucking house mingyu”

he looked at you and winced as if the words you spoke hurt him which was rich to say the least. and he grabbed his pants and sprinted out the door glancing down at you briefly regret written all over his soft features.

the blonde girl who name you didn’t care to knowledge followed his suite bowing quietly

just as you heard the front door slam you walked to your bathroom and peeled the damp clothes off and a part of you wanted to sleep in his hoodie but you couldn’t do it tiredly you slid onto the tiled floor and that’s when you wept you were hurt, although your pride wouldn't let you showcase it to mingyu yet you were so deeply hurt.

sobbing on the cold floor you secretly wished that you wasn't there to witness the scene because mingyu had more of half of your heart in his very own chest he was the reason why the other half was still beating. 

 but right now, you felt dead and mingyu killed you without remorse took the very light he provided in your life, in your eyes and blew it out.

youu tried your best to be his person to be his sun but you weren’t enough. and as your heavy lids fell the last thing you thought to yourself was if he was ever satisfied with you. 

the next morning, you woke up with an aching pain in your chest, which was fitting but your whole body as well. “son of a bitch” you croaked pulling yourself up you felt like you weighed twice your size, looking in the mirror you looked like you’ve been hit by a truck.

suddenly your door slammed causing you to drop your toothbrush cautiously you stalked out your bedroom to see mingyu wearing the sweater you got him a few weeks ago hands stuffed in the pockets on the back of his pants “yn-”

he started as he came closer to you. crossing your arms and sniffling you held back tears a large lump settling in your throat.

“i just don’t really get it you know? i mean, i thought we were happy?” he looked at the ground his eyes welling up as he lowered himself to his knees

“ we are happy! i’m so fucking sorry baby I don't know what came over me” you wanted to forgive him, wiping your tears with the back of your hand you stepped over him and went into the kitchen, he followed closely gripping your wrist gently “what do i need to do for you to forgive me yn..please”

you didn't pull away from his touch but it didn’t feel comforting like it used to hiding your face you sighed shakily “i don’t know” you couldn’t even face him let alone for forgive him “i’ll do anything baby” finally you turn to face him and took his hand off of

“just give me time” you say quietly as you walk to your coffee machine behind your back mingyu smiles to himself feeling hopeful sitting down at the small dinner table you had bought together waiting on you to finish

and in your head, you know forgiving him is a lost cause, but you can’t image being without him for he is all you have.

-

[carolmunson]

le dôme de verre (soft!eddie x badatfeelings!gf)

"Le premier amour est plus aimé, le reste est mieux aimé." 'The first love is loved more, the rest are loved better.' Antoine de Saint-Exupéry - Le Petit Prince

cw: badatfeelings!gf meets up with an old ex, eddie chaperones close by. adult themes, 20+, references to abuse, borderline abusive physicality, hurt/comfort sortaaa?, angst, humans being humans. soft smut reference. personally, i ended up actually hating this but i think i looked at it for too long. for more badatfeelings!gf click here.

He was surprised to see her in such a state when he got to her apartment. She was sat at the kitchen table, leg bouncing, the cordless phone sitting clunkily in front of her. Her hand still held the back of it, white knuckled. She had a sheen of sweat on her forehead, her eyes were rimmed red. She'd been crying. She never cries.

"Woah, hey, what's up?" he immediately went into 'fix it' mode, his innate need to emotionally regulate was sometimes for the better.

"Um, my ex called me," she said, eyes fixed on the grain of the small table, "He wants to apologize."

"Um, my ex called me," she said, eyes fixed on the grain of the small table, "He wants to apologize."

"For?" Eddie asked, slowly, cautiously, taking a seat across from her.

"I think it's for twelve step or something," she shakes her head, "Can't imagine he actually thinks he did anything wrong."

"Is he an alcoholic?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager about finding out a new thing about her. He knew she'd had shitty boyfriends before, her feelings -- or better yet, lack of them -- made that clear.

"Was," she says, "I think he's been sober for a while now, he was when he called me a few years ago."

"He's called you before? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know," she let's go of the phone like she's finally out of a trance, "Didn't seem like it was important enough to bother you about it."

"Why haven't you ever talked to me about him?" he asks softly. She gets up and puts the cordless phone back on the reciever in her tiny living room, a loaded sigh leaving her lips, concaving her chest.

"I don't know, babe," she shrugs, "I think I talked about him for too long."

The bar is stuffy when they get there. Normally she never asks his permission to do anything, but they had a big conversation about whether or not her and her ex could meet -- how he felt, if he was okay with it, what he needed to know. They agreed that he can sit by them and supervise from a short distance, he didn't want her to be by herself if she was so shaken up from just a phone call.

They sit at the bar, her around the corner end closest to the wall and him on the opposite side with a seat between them. She places her purse on it to wait for her ex to come around and Eddie orders for the both of them.

"Hey, can I get that pretty girl at the end of the bar something to calm her nerves? Tell her I sent it over." Eddie winks at her, exaggerated and goofy -- she waves him off with a blush and a laugh. His heart skips -- his girl. The bartender puts the drink in front of her as he walks in. Eddie sees her entire demeanor stiffen. He almost laughed at how taken aback he was to see her like this -- suddenly smaller, the shine in her eyes a dulled black, posture straight, her smile meek. She pushes the drink away from her slowly while he makes his way over, sitting gruffly on the stool between them. He ignores Eddie, but of course he does -- he doesn't know who Eddie is, what he looks like. He's just some guy at the bar. "Hey Len," she says quietly. He leans forward to hug her and she obliges, sweat forming on her forehead, color draining from her face. She doesn't look at Eddie while her head is over Len's shoulder, her eyes shut tightly while she takes him in. Eddie's jaw clenches when he looks him over -- she certainly has a type. Form fitting ripped jeans, dark wash. He's thin -- sinewy -- his Led Zepplin shirt clings slightly to his biceps when he crosses his arms as he sits down and waits for his diet Coke. His chains, and he has a lot, clink on his pants. His boots are steel toe. His hair is a long sheet of dark auburn, he's coated in freckles and a deep summer tan. His jewelry glints in the light shining through the dusty bar window, catching on his nose ring the most. He's pretty. Eddie gets why she was probably so taken by him to start -- he shifts in his seat, nursing his beer while he sketches in a small note pad, ears pricked and prickling.

"Hey, bunny," he coos back at her, "You look real nice."

"Thanks," she says softly, "You look good, you look healthy."

Eddie lets a puff of air out of his nose, biting the inside of his cheek when he hears it. Bunny. That's his nick name. That's what he calls her.

He listens to them talk, it's innocent catch up -- she barely touches her drink. He tenses when he watches Len lean in to listen to her, coasting his fingers down her forearm. Lingering soft touches here and there -- she never lets him touch her like that. He watches the way she looks at him, it’s a face he’s never seen before. Cautious, she swallows a lot. Eyes big and attentive, she nods at every word he says -- like she's at a sermon, everything out of his mouth is a prayer.

Eddie sketches her like this, pen dropping when Len scoots closer to her and his hand warmly cups her knee on her crossed legs. His thumb slides over part of her thigh, palm moving upward. It's like he's watching from underwater, hearing Len's garbled muffled words -- something like 'Since I know how much you like having your legs touched.'

"I have a boyfriend," she says, "I told you. That's not why I'm here."

"Heh," Len chuckles dryly, leaning back on his barstool, arms crossing, "You assume a lot about how much I wanna fuck you."

The sentence even stings Ed, he swallows when he hears her soft 'Oh...I was just -- sorry.' The conversation gets a little tense after that, it hurts him to hear her explain her side of things. She's walking on eggshells, her voice soft and apologetic, pleading -- he's never heard her talk like this before. So soft spoken. So...tamed.

"Yeah, no, we've been together for five years he's -- he's really great," she says to him, shrinking into herself, ripping at the raw, peeled hang nails around her thumbs. Ed always knocks her hands when she does that, wrapping them up in his, giving her something else to play with so she doesn't keep breaking the skin.

"I don't need to hear about your boyfriend, bunny," his voice is stiff when he says it, "Surprised there's someone else willing to put up with all your bullshit."

"Well that's not really a fair thing to say," she says curtly, finally getting some fight back in her, "I wasn't the one coming in and out of our relationship all the time. That was you."

"Because I was sick. Do you hear yourself?" he speaks calmly to her, soothing, like he's explaining to her how the world works, "That's so like you, to make it about yourself. You're always finding ways to make me a bad person when I reached out to you to apologize."

He speaks to her in riddles, in sentences that sort of make sense but not all the way. The kind where you have to replay them in your head a few times to make them make sense and even then, they’re a little skewed. He does it on purpose — it throws her off and makes her nervous. She stutters and squirms just so he can catch her in a lie that he fabricated to begin with. Desperate to convince her that she’s bad. His arms are crossed when he speaks to her, he’s not yelling — he looks like he’s trying to convince her of something. Eyebrows raised every time he finishes a sentence, nodding so that she’ll nod too. Eddie’s grip is so tight on his pen he’s surprised he hasn’t broken it. He doesn’t even know what they’re talking about, but her voice breaks and it takes everything in him to not intervene. Red hazes over his vision while she desperately advocates and apologizes for herself.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for? Or are you just saying sorry to say it?” Len asks pointedly.

“I — Len, please — please stop,” she sobs out quietly, “I’m sorry for — for —”

“And of course you’re crying,” he says with a bitter smile, “Should I call everyone over so everyone can see what an awful guy I am? Look what I did everyone! Look! She’s crying!”

“Stop, Len. I'm sorry -- I'll stop," her voice raised slightly, furiouslt wiping her eyes, breathe rattling to steady herself, “Stop it.”

“Don’t yell,” he says sharply, leaning into her space, “If you’re gonna cause a scene I’ll call the fucking cops. You’re acting insane. I'm having a normal measured conversation with you -- why can't you ever be a fucking adult about anything? You're so dramatic.”

Tears well up in Eddie’s eyes while he listens, finally understanding why she never cries. He swallows thickly, his hand twitches, but he remembers what she said before they left, ‘Don’t intervene. I’m probably gonna cry, you’re gonna wanna get involved — just don’t. It’ll make it worse.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he watches her mouth form the words at Len, a shell of herself while he continues to kindly berate her. She nods, taking every emotional punch like she's grateful for it.

'You're right, I should've listened better.'

'I'm sorry, I should've been paying more attention.' 'No, you're right, you're right. I know.' He can tell she's just trying to appease him, this is how she talks when she doesn't wanna fight anymore. Isn’t Len supposed to be apologizing to her?

Eddie watches her search for him, tears welling in her eyes again while they make brief eye contact before Len's hand reaches up to grab her chin to make her face him.

‘Do I need to talk to you like a child?’

Oh.

Absolutely not.

Ed closes his notepad, shaking his head, "That's enough."

He hops off the barstool, walking around Len over to her, taking her hand, "Let's go baby, you've heard enough. I think this talk is over."

She shoots him a look, terrified but obedient, collecting her purse and getting off the bar stool with shuddering breaths. The bar spins around her, body numb, chest a mess of pins and needles.

“You’re kidding? You had your boyfriend spy on us the whole time?” he laughs, “Of course you wanted to start a whole scene, it has to be about you, doesn't it?”

"If my buddy didn't work at this bar, I'd start a real big fucking scene pal," Eddie barks -- chest puffed, head held high and tilted. Len follows suit and it makes her shrink behind her boyfriend who has no intentions of letting up.

"So if you wouldn't mind, y'know -- " Ed smiles tightly, "Fucking off and out of the way so I can take my girl home, that'd be great."

Len backs off, demeanor fading back into soft and understanding. He turns his attention to her, "You've always been my best girl, bunny. I'm glad you found someone who cares about you so much. Hope he knows how lucky he is."

He nods at Eddie, curt and tight, tossing some cash on the bar and walking out. Eddie's face quirks into confusion but her grip tightens on his hand. Her heart pounds, and new crop of tears threatens to rip through her at the sentiment -- because that was so nice. Maybe she really just wasn't listening well enough to him. Maybe he really is right. Maybe she does always make it about herself. Maybe she is bad. Maybe she's the issue, maybe she made it all up.

The scent of leather and cigarettes hits her nose and the slam of the van door jolts her out of her thoughts. She doesn't remember leaving the bar. She's heaving. Because what if everything Len said was true? What if everyone really is tired of her bullshit?

"You're okay, baby. I'm here, s'just me," Eddie says, pressing his forehead firmly against hers. He's caging her in against the side of the van, thumbs pressed into her cheeks, "C'mon take a deep breath with me."

She hears him take a sharp inhale through the nose and she follows suit, the van fills with the sound of her snotty breathing.

"Hold it, hold it," he mutters, keeping the breath in for a few seconds, "And let it alllll out, good. Good."

"One more time for me," he whispers, her body shaking with each rough and cracked sob bubbling up and out of her chest. They breathe together again and it quells her for a minute before her shoulders shake. Her face crumples, heat rushing to her cheeks when she starts to cry again -- broken, inconsolable. Deep, guttural sobs pouring out from her chest -- she sounds terrified. He pulls her to him, arms wrapping tight around her, hard enough that she feel him -- that she feels safe. He presses her face into the crook of his neck, feeling her tears stain his skin and the collar of his shirt.

"I've never heard you cry like this," he murmurs into her hair, his eyes welling up with tears at her broken sobs, "He hurt you really bad, huh baby?"

He lets her cry it out on his shoulder, soothing her, rocking her, singing to her, running his fingers gently over the back of her arms, the back of her neck, over her spine. When he hears the final, deep, shaky breath -- a sound he's heard so often when she stops herself from crying in general -- he knows she's done. She looks up at him, wiping her eyes, puffy and red, mascara in gray streaks down her face.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, "You need some water?"

She nods, sitting up and back on the seat while he rifles through old McDonald's wrappers and plastic bags. He finds a half filled bottle of Poland Spring only to open it and be met with the sharp sting of vodka.

"Fuck," he mutters, "Um..."

"S'okay," she sniffles, climbing up into the passengers seat.

"We'll stop on the way home," he offers gently, "That okay?"

She nods and looks at him while he climbs into the drivers seat, "Can we go to yours?"

"Sure, honey -- you don't wanna go to yours?"

"He knows where I live," she confesses, "And he's mad so I don't -- I don't want him to start another fight."

He knows what she means. She doesn't want that asshole to show up looking for her. In his side view mirror he can see him sitting in his beat up truck across the street, tossing a cigarette out the window and lighting up another. He's waiting them out.

"Sit tight, I'll run inside and see if they have any waters I can grab," he says with a pat on her thigh.

"Don't you get out of this van now, y'hear?" he twangs the sentence like a cowboy and a smile breaks across her face.

"You're so stupid," she croaks, "But wait, wait --"

He looks back from the open door.

"I know what you're doing, and I know you wanna go say something to him but just -- please don't. Don't start something," she pleads.

"M'just gonna tell him to go home, baby," he says softly, "Look how upset he's making you."

"Whatever you do or say to him, no matter what it is, it will become my fault -- so please, please let's just go back to your place, okay?" she begs, "Let's just be done."

He tosses a look over to Len in his shitty truck and takes a deep breath. He looks back at her and nods, "Fine."

After a quick stop at the store and the many, many, many, times she looked in the side view mirror to make sure Len wasn't following them they made it back to Ed's trailer unscathed. He keeps her close to him, the closest she's been in a while -- draped over his chest while they both lay on the couch covered in an old crocheted blanket his Uncle Wayne passed down to him. The TV and radio are off -- they lay there occupied by eachother's breathing.

He toys with her fingers, taking his rings off and sliding them onto hers, then back onto his, "That was really brave, y'know? M'proud of you."

"I cried and had to have my boyfriend come save me," she retorts.

"Stop," he says, "Stop doing that."

"You always...I don't know, you never let yourself just have an accomplishment," he doesn't mean to sound like he's admonishing her, but it comes off that way.

"You never let yourself be proud -- don't you know how good you are?"

His eyes search for any recognition of understanding in her face but it doesn't come. She looks confused, afraid.

"You're so good," he confesses, looking up at the ceiling, "You're the fuckin' best."

"Thanks," she says quietly, looking past him to study the weaving pattern on the couch cushions. She's half there, half gone. Somewhere between being in the trailer with him and still stuck on her barstool. Still stuck in her teens and early twenties. Still stuck being screamed at on the sidewalk, getting phone calls at four in the morning, stuck in the waiting room of a hospital when every attempt at his life feels like the last.

"What're you thinkin' about?" he asks, backs of his fingers brushing over her temple, "Talk to me."

"What if I'm not good?" she asks, voice catching in her throat.

"No, no, you --"

"But what if I'm not?" she repeats, "Ed I -- everything he did -- "

"I do that to you."

He doesn't say anything for a minute. He knows she's not like him but it doesn't erase the ways she's hurt him before. The push and pull, the give and take. The constant tenseness, biting sarcasm. The nights he'd flinch when she'd slam the phone down on him. The nights he'd replay the sentences she said to make sense of them.

And he did it to her, too. Revenge, he guesses, for the times she's done it to him. Their fight at the diner in the winter, the guilt trips, the way he'll stare her down until she gives up on a fight.

"You're not like him, bun," he says, shaking his head, "You're like you."

"Maybe," he starts, shifting on the couch so he lays next to her, noses touching, "Maybe we need to be a little better at talking about what we need, hm? 'Cause I think you went a long time without someone asking. Maybe I need to be better at asking."

"I don't need anything," she says, eyes catching a stitch of fear -- like she got caught in a lie, "I got it."

He smiles defeatedly at her, "Baby, you do. There are things that you need."

"No, I'm okay, I promise," she begs, "I don't."

He sighs, not wanting to press it. Right now this was enough, having her close to him. Knowing she needs him. At least for right now.

"I don't wanna be like him to you, Ed," she says, nestling back against his chest, "I wanna be better."

He hums, arms finding his way around her again before they fall asleep. Later that night, they don't fuck like they usually do, no. He makes love to her, slow and deliberate, both of them teary eyed and clinging to each other. He'd never had her to vulnerable under him -- he would bottle it if he could, this version of her. So open, so soft, so different than what he's had for some time.

“You know why I love making you feel good?" he asks, panting and sweaty, pressed against her under the covers. She looks up at him, her eyes answer for her 'why?', glassy and wet with feelings she had left over from the afternoon.

"You deserve it."

[we-are-all-of-legend-now]

Don't forget to join me under the cut for quotes and thoughts as I read along!

Trigger warnings: mentions of rape, physical abuse, mental abuse, trauma, abusive gaslighting love interest, and overall bad writing.

And me being very, very pissed off about it

"and then we would finally be together physically."

And biblically. And you do not sound sixteen.

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"“I’m going to enjoy fucking your girlfriend and hearing her scream for you,” he said to Jack. Jack’s head snapped up, his eyes filled with hate and rage as he started struggling again even though he was probably in indescribable amounts of pain."

Bland and gratuitous violence just for the sake of drama. My favourite

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"Everyone knew who Carter Thomas was; he was the head of a crime syndicate and responsible for the deaths of almost a thousand people when he’d set bombs off in the middle of rush hour in four different subways simultaneously. Everyone knew it was him, but it could never be directly proven, and key witnesses or evidence had a strange habit of going missing just in the nick of time. He regularly ran drugs and was heavily involved in human trafficking from Romania."

Plus, he randomly abducted and held a girl captive for a year just because he thought she was hot? What kind of weird ass criminal profile is this?

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I still didn’t get it. I’d been selected for a special assignment, yet he was telling me about some girl. What did this have to do with me?"

You aren't that bright either are you my man

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"Fuck, I sure hope I get undercover with her! I mused."

Just once I would like a YA love interest to not be immediately sexually interested. He doesn't know anything about this woman except for the fact that she was held captive for a year and is the daughter of someone prominent! He knows she has trauma and given his training should at least suspect that some of it is from sexual abuse, and the first thing he does is objectify her further.

This is the guy we're being set up to root for, guys.🤮

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I felt my eyes widen from shock. Maddy was right, he certainly was handsome. His black hair was shorter around the sides, but fell across his forehead messily, and he had the most beautiful dark green eyes that I had ever seen. His face was perfect, just like an angel’s. His body would be incredible too – I could see that even though it was covered by a plain, white T-shirt and ripped jeans. He actually looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine shoot and was easily the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen."

Well, of COURSE! He can't be your love interest if he isn't the sexiest guy to ever sexy!

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"His gaze was raking over me slowly, his mouth slightly open as he took in every inch of me, making me want to squirm on the spot or run away as fast as my legs would carry me. Lust was written plain across his angelic features, and it made my stomach ache."

Keep in mind, at this point, he has read her file. He knows exactly what she has gone through. He knows she was raped, beaten, mentally tortured, and driven to attempt suicide by her captor. He knows her last boyfriend, who had been her companion from ages 5 to 16, was murdered by the man who then kidnapped her. Ashton is also there to do a job. He is supposed to be a professional.

And he's just ... Acting like this? In front of her parents and his superior too, I might add?

Why are we supposed to like him?

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I knew it was just an innocent move that wouldn’t occur again anytime soon"

So, Anna doesn't trust men. Anna can't stand being around men. Anna doesn't believe that every man in the world isn't out to get her.

So, two questions: why does she trust Ashton to keep his word when she already feels violated by him? And why doesn't anyone just get her a female bodyguard?

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I frowned, not liking the idea of having someone in my private space. I didn’t usually allow agents in my room, but his stern expression told me that he wasn’t going away until he’d done whatever it was that he wanted"

Sure, honey, abandon all the informed characteristics you have because he looked at you funny and because he's hot.

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"“Huh, well then maybe I’m hungry because this looks like a cheeseburger and fries, heavy on the ketchup.” Not expecting such a witty response, his comment caught me off guard and, uncharacteristically, I burst out laughing."

Am I missing the wit? What the hell is happening here?

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I waited for the pain, but it never came. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up. Ashton was still holding me down on the bed, but somehow he wasn’t heavy, as if he was holding his weight off me"

THIS ISN'T FLIRTING THIS IS TORTURE! I HATE TO SAY IT BUT A SMARTER AUTHOR WOULD KNOW THAT

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"“Oh shit! I’m sorry, Anna! Why didn’t you say? I would’ve gotten off, I swear!”"

Literally the previous page she says "“Okay, but please get off me,”" and then Ashton DIDN'T for her "own good".

Gaslight, gatekeep, Guantanamo Bay

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"And most importantly, why did it upset me when he moved away?

Guilt. It was eating me up inside because I’d just enjoyed another man’s touch."

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"Everyone else just ignored me now."

I would also like to ignore you but ... Your parents should probably force you into therapy

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"I scoffed, watching as plopped himself down in the chair. “So you’re going to watch me sleep?”"

How Edward Cullen of you, Ashton

¯⁠\⁠(⁠◉⁠‿⁠◉⁠)⁠/⁠¯

"“You like vampires?” he asked, holding up my battered and abused copy of Twilight."

I hate myself

Currently reading: I was broken, numb to want and desire, but then he came along...

Three years after the tragic events of Anna’s sixteenth birthday which saw her boyfriend killed and her kidnapped by his sadistic murderer, she’s no longer the happy-go-lucky girl that everyone used to know and love; she’s now cold, hard and suffers from night terrors.

Carter is currently serving time for the murder of Jack–a conviction that Anna helped secure–but his retrial is coming up because some key evidence appears to have been tampered with.

Needing to ensure his daughter’s safety, presidential candidate, Senator Spencer, tasks in Ashton Taylor, a newly qualified SWAT agent, to guard the broken girl and keep her safe until the end of the trial.

For three years Anna has refused to feel emotion or pain. Can Ashton help her rebuild her life and finally deal with the grief of losing her childhood sweetheart? Will he be the one to make her see that life is, in fact, worth living and that not all men will hurt her?

Author's note: This edition contains Part 1 (Guarding the Broken) and Part 2 (Blurring the Lines) and combines them into one novel of epic proportion!

[calzonekestis]

Having a Black character be put in peril so that they can be rescued by a white savior is not a Good thing to do in a story.

Eddie Munson is actually a non violent person who tends to avoid physical conflict.

Both those statements are true.

However, if he had been there when Jason’s baseball cap wearing bro tackled an 11 year old Black girl to the ground, pinned her, held her arms behind her back and threatened to break them?

Vecna wouldn’t be the only person taking eyes.

That bitch would have gotten a nail-shield to the face. Repeatedly.

I know the intent of that was to be upsetting and uncomfy, but I’m just.

Sick of them doing the Sinclairs like that. First with Billy, now that bitch.

And tbh after the Lucas/Jason confrontation, I’m looking back on all their interactions with hindsight and.

“I never should have let you in.”

“I never should have knocked.”

Lucas already proved himself on the basketball court, but they had to go all frat boy and like. He had to earn his acceptance.

On Jason’s wiki page (editing is still locked rn) it’s mentioned how one of his redeeming qualities was that he checked on Lucas when he had a hangover.

Which. I kinda get the feeling that Lucas was probably most certainly pressured into drinking? Or at least as much as he did? That it was a hazing thing?

Jason and his friends are just. Douchebags.

Maybe there’s a reason they were douchebags, like a reason Billy was a douchebag… but like with Billy, that reason isn’t an excuse.

And I don’t think that they had any abusive background or anything. I think it was their environment, sure, but it was one that was very catered to serve them. Straight white clean cut Christian patriarchy.

Sure, Jason didn’t seem so bad - until Chrissy died. Until his perfect world started to crumble, people were daring to upset the status quo of it all. That’s when he started to spiral. When he and Eddie had their stare down in the cafeteria?

Chrissy wasn’t even a factor in that. Eddie insulted him and his place in the hierarchy. Eddie insulted a lot of people. None of them had egos so fragile (or penises so tiny) that they wanted to throw hands.

He couldn’t accept that he didn’t know Chrissy as well as he thought, even though there must have been a reason she felt she couldn’t go to him. Be it he’d belittle her trauma/ED if she confided about it, or if he treated her like a she was a burden/distraction before the game, or whatever.

She put on a brave face and smile, while she was literally hurting herself… and he was completely ignorant. Head in the sand. Or up his own ass. This is her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Eddie someone who she hasn’t talked to in years, is able to tell in seconds that something is off and that she isn’t ok.

He doesn’t pry or overstep as to why she wants the drugs - he knows better than to ask, and it’s better for business if he doesn’t. Though he cares enough to try and make her feel at ease and safe with him. He doesn’t judge her for not being ok, he just wants her to feel better.

Meanwhile Jason just refuses to entertain the idea that she may not have been ok. That he may have played a part in it, that she may have gone to Eddie rather than him because he was part of the problem. That’s just not fathomable to him, because he’s perfect and walks on water.

When Nancy offers her condolences, he shows little to no reaction - instead asking where her Hellfire Club member brother is and getting all aggressive.

He didn’t actually love Chrissy, because he didn’t actually know Chrissy.

He loved the simplistic picture of her that he and her mother and society made her feel like she had to live up to.

Mans didn’t actually know the girl to love her. He wasn’t actually grieving her as person, he was grieving what she was supposed to be in relation to himself.

An embodiment of toxic masculinity. R Rated Gaston. Anthony Michael Hall in Edward Scissorhands. Youth Pastor Archie Andrews. Call it whatever you want, but he is not some misunderstood meow meow.

Again, said it before, I’ll say it a dozen times over. Mason Dye did a fantastic job portraying him. He tried to bring some depth there, he’s talked about Jason’s headspace at a con - but he could only do so much with what was on the page. He wasn’t given focus like Joe was, to where he could sort of improv and influence the perception of the character.

I’m not saying he’s not a good character, but he’s not a good person. And that’s ok. You can have problematic trash faves. I have a Darth Maul url, I mean, fuck. The woobification is something I cannot and will not sanction.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there. 

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought. 

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid. 

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind. 

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return. 

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did. 

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him. 

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.” 

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.” 

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.” 

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.” 

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite. 

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.” 

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’. 

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.” 

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?” 

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?” 

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?” 

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger. 

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.” 

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction. 

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?” 

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.” 

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?” 

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.” 

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?” 

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always. 

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever. 

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?” 

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher. 

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned. 

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.” 

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

[toongrrl-blog]

Body Image 2021 in the Media

We should all feel like Joan when we look in the mirror...

Okay so onetime I read this article and I thought: “Lovely lovely, but there is something about it that is bugging me...” Then it hit me that the representation wasn’t diverse in that article and I know 2021 had media depictions that would expand the conversation regarding body image. 

So here are my picks:

1. Never Have I Ever (Season 2)

It wasn’t the best decision Devi made when she blurted out that the new girl (and her fellow comrade as being the token Indian girls at their school) Aneesa, is recovering from an eating disorder that she picked up while at a all-girl’s prep school where she was the only Brown girl (and only Muslim at that) where she was ignored except when receiving positive feedback about her slim figure, thus triggering her disorder. 

Sadly WOC often are overlooked when eating disorders are discussed, in favor of privileged white girls (thin ones at that), and recovery is often presented as accessible and overnight. But Aneesa shows that even the most together person could be struggling with something and given how little her bites are, her ED habits don’t disappear overnight. It’s also important to note that Aneesa picked up her disorder in a high-stress (especially in academics), upper class environment where racism was in the air. Aneesa felt the pressure to fit in, her body was the only thing that gained some semblance of approval from her white peers, it made sense that she was determined not to lose it. 

That said: the series does a good job putting women of color (and their experiences) front and center. From the Indian American Devi (a flawed and relatable character played by newcomer Maitreyi Ramikrishnan), her Afro-Latina friend Fabiola (who refutes the Sassy Black Woman stereotype with her quiet nature and holds STEM interests and explores her lesbian identity), Chinese American Eleanor (who is loud, dramatic, loving, and bold in her presentation), the Indian American Aneesa (outwardly confident and easy-going), Devi’s grieving and strong-willed mother Nalini, and Kamala (Devi’s “perfect” cousin who starts to push back against the expectations put on her as a South Asian woman from both her family and her professors). 

2. Why Women Kill (Season 2)

Classism, Ableism, Fatphobia, Social Totem Poles, Prejudice. These issues are at the core of the characters who struggle with self-image or desirability in the second season of this (highly underrated) anthology series of the dramedy from Desperate Housewives creator Marc Cherry. The story centers on the seemingly meek and hapless “frump” Alma Fillcott (played by a drabed down Allison Tollman) who envies and wants to join the garden club presided over by the beautiful trophy wife Rita Castillo (Lana Parilla who ATE this role); Alma deals with a lot of slights her direction due to her appearance, despite the love of a devoted husband and a daughter (Dee, who is heavier than her mother and more fashionable and prettied up) while Rita deals with an elderly and abusive husband (who refuses to die) that throws her former life as a sex worker in her face. We learn that Alma was cheated on by her high school boyfriend at senior prom for a thinner and more glamorous girl, Detective Vern (Rita’s detective and Dee’s eventual husband) dealt with being dumped after a disfiguring injury he gotten in World War II (did I mention this story was set in 1949?), Dee puts up with men who only see her in secret due to her weight, and Rita came from a poor family that was regarded as dirt by members of the community she grew up in and ended up in a physically abusive marriage until her cousin shot the guy (sadly turned out to be still alive) before being in her current one. Through the Garden Club, we see how social privilege and prejudice can be weaponized to climb up on the necks of other members (basically hierarchies are very predatory). 

3. The Baby-Sitters’ Club (Season 2)

Back when the original book series came out in 1985, Stacey McGill made history as a character with a chronic health condition/disability (Diabetes) whose character wasn’t defined by her illness. She was glamorous for girls her age, sophisticated and somewhat mature, she was pretty as a model, boys liked her (currency in middle school), the kids she babysat adored her, she had well-coiffed and fashionable blonde hair, she was super good at math; she was proof that a person with a chronic condition/disability could be relatable, natch, even aspirational. 

The sadly now defunct Netflix series updates the story and goes further, with Stacey; showcasing how social media and the shame projected upon by a parent can hurt a child. Instead of pricking her fingers, Stacey has a insulin pump that her Mother (at first) wants her to conceal, therefore making the girl feel she needs to be ashamed of her appearance and while she was harassed at her old school for fainting at lunch and missing school and wetting the bed at a sleepover, Stacey had a seizure in the lunchroom that was filmed by a classmate. Therefore Stacey endured her shame going viral online (this goes hand in hand with Monica Lewinsky’s story as she details in 15 Minutes of Shame and in our last entry of this post) and after moving to Connecticut, has to revisit it there too where parental skepticism (unconscious ableism) even forces her and her friends to defend her competence and skill as a babysitter. That same season also sees Stacey live life as usual, being boy-crazy and babysitting her charges before she confronts one of her former tormentors at summer camp, gifting some catharsis despite the result of poison ivy.

Season Two sees Stacey with bickering parents and struggling to reconcile her image of a young person positively managing her condition with the ambivalence she feels about her disability, especially when she tells a friend (a talented ballerina) that she envies the girl’s body for being able to make these elaborate and demanding movements while Stacey has to work hard to make sure her body functions regularly. 

Stacey’s storyline showcases a disabled character who is a full person in her own right, with the important caveat that if you can’t reach body positivity, body neutrality is just as sufficient. 

4. Encanto.

I have problems with this movie and many of it’s characters; that said, lets get into the good, the bad (well how it depicts the bad with some awareness), and the not really “unspecial” on what this film says about body image. 

Good: FIrst, the family and the villagers showcase a mixture of skin colors, body types, sizes, shapes, heights, hair textures without depicting one or the other as worse or better; facial features are brought into the mix with the large noses of Abuela Alma, Pepa, Bruno, and Isabella, Indigenous and African and Mestizo and European features are in the mix, Mirabel is a young woman with a short-ish, “average” body type with a wide nose and curly hair while older sister Luisa is depicted as muscular and feminine.

The Depiction of the Bad: The film depicts (subtly) how beauty ideals can poison family relations, especially who is the most pressured or ignored. Abuela Alma ignores/disrespects her average-build and regular-cute with wide nose and curly hair and bespectacled Mirabel while forcing the muscular and large Luisa to be a workhorse and Dolores to be used as a snitch despite being as pretty and slender as Isabella with her long, straight/wavy hair. Let’s not get into how Mirabel’s lack of powers can be an allegory for disability, something that society has used as an excuse to dehumanize and see as “surplus”, and sadly an attitude that hasn’t gone away (environmental fascism and straws). I also wanna look at how Luisa’s body marks her as a workhorse who gets no rest or relaxation (not even on her cousin’s ceremony or sister’s engagement dinner) by her grandmother and that raggedy ass village while Isabella gets to be the ornament and how Isa getting her “imperfect” white blossoms plucked by Abuela after she stresses out stands in for the many times that women, like myself, could be doing or talking about anything but the focus is still on our looks rather than our substance. 

Not Really “Unspecial”: The film points out, like The Breakfast Club did 36 years before, it’s a grave mistake to reduce people to “the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions”. Luisa is more than the muscle, she is a sensitive and loving person who needs a rest; Mirabel lacks magic powers but she is a loving and devoted girl (too devoted, I say) with talents in parkour and fashion design; Isabella is more than the beauty queen, but is a creative agriculturalist; and Bruno is a loving man who keeps it real and a creative who acts out plays with his rats. 

5. Spencer.

A jarring and beautifully creative look at a woman struggling with her eating disorder and her dying marriage under the weight of in-laws who don’t respect her boundaries and see her as just a ornamental broodmare. We see Princess Diana in the final days of her marriage as she experiences the Christmas Holiday at Sandrigham where the family is ceremonily weighed before and after the festivities, the movie left me breathless, like texts I read for Women’s Studies classes in college and plus we need more car scenes like this in the cinema again. 

6. American Crime Story: Impeachment.

Monica Lewinsky is my dream wifey. She is also someone who dealt with having her sexuality and body bashed and demeaned in the media either as a grotesque for her fluctuating voluptuous figure (this was the age of heroin chic) or as a girl with more looks and breasts than brains or a venomous femme fatale. 

Monica’s struggle can be tied to the trope of The Bombshell, who is either adulated for her beauty (like Bill Clinton and Linda Tripp did when meeting her) or treated like an animal for her sexuality (the media fallout and how her ex lover and ex friend betrayed her); like I feel so angry for Monica to the point I wanna fight Bill, Linda, Ken Starr, David Letterman, and Jay Leno. Like I am mad that Monica, young and gorgeous and educated was raked over the coals so hard. Like people acted like she wasn’t it, then again those folks thought Hillary wasn’t hot enough for Bill (NEWSFLASH: From what I saw some Gen Z thought young Hillary looked like Sabrina Carpenter, who is Disney Star pretty, while Bill is meh in presentation); how could they see Monica with that broad, gleaming smile, those soft cheeks, the babylike skin, the long and thick shiny hair that was the hottest thing to have in the 90s, the square jawline that made Brooke Shields launch a standard of beauty that lasted more than a decade, the full lush lips that no amount of collagen injections could replicate, the green eyes with the dark lashes, symmetrical face that fit most Western standards of beauty, and the curvaceous figure with breasts and hips and everything....but she was made to feel bad about those features because she grew up in Beverly Hills where (as Mo’Nique said) they prefer knitting needles with boob jobs to hourglasses and pears. Let’s not get into how every woman in Bill Clinton’s orbit was look shamed in the media: maybe his Momma, Hillary, Chelsea, Betty Currie (like Linda was portrayed in drag on SNL, but funny we don’t get much shine on that), Monica, Paula Jones (despite being one half of Ugly Guy, Hot Wife, was shamed into a nose job), Linda Tripp (hack hack hack), Janet Reno. 

As an aside, as much as I loathe the late Linda Tripp (my TikTok could be considered a Linda Tripp Hate account), the mocking of her looks skewed as fatphobic and transmisogynistic. We can talk about what a shitty person she was and make fun of her without throwing marginalized people under the bus, people. Plus she is a look at how the Plain Jane type can have the potential of churning her bitterness over rejection into directing it at other women, especially prettier women. Hurt people, hurt people and I believe that Linda was a Karen of the highest order, a lady in waiting to Carolyn Bryant and a DUFF to Yolanda Salvidar with Phyllis Schlafly’s raggedy weave. 

I was a kid then and I wondered what pretty Monica, who looked like a movie star had to do with the President. Good thing I didn’t know how bad it was, would’ve made me wanna die. I’m so happy she is telling her story, which is why we are all here today.

Now I think we need to end this post with this bop to carry out your day

[sw124]

MLC: Josie and Viper

[Symbiote Boyfriend]

She hadn’t moved all day, she barely ate anything all week, she didn’t speak to anyone for almost a month; her phone muted. She tossed and turned on her couch from time to time but mostly to keep a cramp in her leg at bay. The only time she moved from the couch was to use the restroom, if it wasn’t for Viper she probably would have trouble even moving a single finger.

“Babe, honey you need to eat.”

Josie tilted her head towards the voice, no one was in the room. Her stomach complied with the tone, it growled like a ticked off bear. With a heavy sigh she walked into the kitchen, she went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk. From her back a large ocean-black tendril extended and pulled out a box of cereal and a large bowl. Josie picked up two spoons and went back to the couch, once the cereal was made the tendril picked up the remote and turned on the TV; from her shoulder a larger mass formed a head and turned to her. Large milky eyes curved upwards before leaning and gently placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

“….Thanks sweetie…….sorry about all this-“ she was silenced with a smaller tendril touching her lips.

“Babe you got nothing to be sorry about, come on lets watch some dumbass commercials and classic cartoons. We’ll deal with what happened later…ok?”

Viper nearly melted seeing her smile, he could feel that little spark of joy in her…but then get smothered by guilt again…he had to help her but problem was how.

After the seventh spoonful of chocolate cereal came a rather interesting commercial. It was an ad for the Meta Clinic and…Monster/Human couples therapy? This made the couple pause, this was…well this was new! Sure there were dating sites, clubs, cafes and speed dating for people looking for monster boy/girlfriends but now offering couples therapy?

Viper wanted so badly to grab the phone and call for an appointment but…he didn’t wanna force Josie into something like that. He’d be doing more damage then good…he’d start by talking about it.

[Two weeks later]

“Viper and Josie?” The secretary called out. Josie looked up from her phone and stood up.

“Thats us…” Viper extended his head from her back giving a nod.

“Dr. Fortune will see you now, please head back down the hall to room 7 please.”

With a nervous smile she proceeded down the hall, Vipers head gently tucked beside her..whispering soothing nonsense. This was enough to at least quell the rising panic in her chest, finally they came to a door with the number 7 on it. With a hard gulp Josie pushed opened the door…

The room was massive! It almost looked like the lobby of a hotel, hell it even had a pool in the corner of the room and a tank! The room was painted in shades of two-toned moss, the air smelled of perpetual rainfall…and lemon. It was there but didn’t overpower…the temperature was perfect.

In the center of the room were two chairs, a large love-seat sofa and a dark grey armchair. Between them was a white round table with a pitcher of water and three glasses. In the grey armchair….was the doctor they came to see.

“Ah, you must be Josie and Viper. Please come in, have a seat.”

She hesitated but…Josie complied, the love-seat felt like if jelly and clouds got married and had a baby. It was so soft and cool to the touch, best part she didn’t sink it like some other chairs. Viper loved the feeling, hell he could just imagine cuddling up with his girl on this couch watching old sci-fi movies.

“Lets get started, first can you tell me how you met an how long have you two been together?”

Josie paused…then spoke. “Well…Viper an I met via collage..we had the same class, we got paired up and it sorta started from there. We’ve been together for about…two years now.”

“What kind of class were you in?”

“It was a philosophy class, I took it cause I was curious on what made philosophy so damn interesting.” Said Viper.

“I personally took it cause I’ve loved things that sorta question the norm of society. Our project was to listen to one of the stories of Plato, we got ‘The allegory of the cave’ and write our thoughts on the meaning and reasons behind it….those were some of the best nights I ever had.”

Josie never noticed the subtle blush on her cheeks, but that smile she had told the Doctor everything they needed to know, even Viper couldn’t hide his smile.

“You and Viper have a very close relationship I can tell…however the reason why you’re here is not really about the two of you. Its the people around you, mainly family.”

You could almost make out Josie’s heart in her throat, Viper; if he had one, would have been in his as well. Dr.Fortune took a sip of water and…with a sniper-gaze they fixed on Josies eyes.

“I’m going to take a guess, stop me at any time. The problem isn’t with either of you two but from Josie’s family.”

Josie began to chew on her thumbnail, Viper was quick to pull it away as the Doctor continued.

“Your parents I will take are very strict people, perhaps even falling in line with deep religious practices but yet despite saying their ‘devout’ they continue to say and do things that go against the basic principles of their religion. Growing up they saw you as either property or a tool to get what they wanted. If you ever raised your voice in defense of yourself…you were either met with Verbal or Physical violence…”

The Doctor paused, fat tears were cascading down Josie’s face. Her breathing was labor, almost choking on some of her deeper breaths. Viper already had his tendrils wrapping around her in a tight embrace, gently whispering into her ear.

[Klink!]

Josie jumped, looking down she found one of the glasses had been filled with water…with a lemon slice in it. She looked up at the Doctor who was pouring a glass for themself.

“Take a sip, it’ll help.”

She…did feel a little parched, Viper handed her the glass, she took a few small gulps. Blinking she looked into the glass…the water tasted sweet, with the lemon slice it almost had the taste of lemonade but without the sharp zing. She noted how the water almost was coating her throat, soothing the burn forming.

“Like it? Its something I made myself for my patients, I boil distilled water and honey together an let it sit overnight in the fridge then add lemon slices to it. The honey and lemon help soothe your throat while the cold water rehydrates you.”

“Its…really good.” Josie smiled taking another sip. “Everything you said…was right, even the religion part. My parents always treated me like I was some show pony at every gathering, they never listened to me an always thought my problems were just…not worth their time.” Josie rubbed a tear away.

Viper remained quiet but nodded when she was done speaking, Dr. Fortune turned to Viper then.

“An the first meeting with her parents they referred to you as a ‘parasite’ and even went so far as to disown Josie from her own family if she didn’t breakup with you.”

Vipers eyes went wide for a moment before slowly closing…his lips curling back, showing off his razor teeth.

He hissed. “Yes, the moment she finished telling them they started calling her all sorts of nasty things and…even went so far as to say they picked out a husband for her to marry. To be honest I actually knew the guy and he…he’s rich but also a huge dick, he was the biggest bully at my high-school back in the day. When Josie refused…they disowned her and kicked us out on the streets…this was around a month ago…”

Dr.Fortune set their glass down, leaned back in the gray chair with their elbows resting on the armrests…fingers pushed together in a pyramid fashion.

“An since then Josie has received texts and phone calls demanding she breakup with you and marry this ‘dick’ all for the sake of money. I’ve seen this before and its a classic case of narcissism but also a show of parental neglect and abuse.” Doctor Fortuned leaned forward, their gaze turning sharp.

“Josie….for starters you are not the problem, your parents are stuck in a mindset that is outdated and unacceptable. You are not to blame for their disappointment, no you never were. Your parents refused to change their ways and therefore are stuck in the past. However that doesn’t mean you have to, in order to help yourself you need to first cut ties with the ‘parasite’ that is your family. Go completely no contact with them, then once thats done I want you to focus on your relationship with Viper.”

Josie blinked, eyes widening. Cut ties with her family?! How could she do that, this was her family!

“Yes I’m aware your not keen on the idea but…let me ask you something. When has your family ever done anything for ‘you’ out of love an ask for nothing in return?” Josie opened her mouth but….nothing came out…she looked through all her memories…but couldn’t find anything.

“Now…I want you to think about what Viper has done for you, who do you think is more deserving of your time an energy? A family that wants you to marry a jerk for money or the symbiote who from the moment he met you has treated you like the human you are?”

Josie sniffled….they were right, ever since they met; Viper had shown her nothing but compassion, patients and love. Sometimes she felt so guilty about putting him through her crap but…he never complained about it. She rubbed her eyes again, it was time to stop waistline her hard earned time and effort on people who didn’t love her! It was time she spent her energy on Viper and school!

Doctor Fortune smiled, the match was struck and the fire was starting to burn. Now it was time to slowly stoke the coals and make sure they never went cold.

“Your right Doctor….I need to stop waiting my time with those people…I’m thankful they gave birth to me but thats no reason to hold it over my head. I’m…I’m done with them!” Josie slapped her knee, it…it felt really good to say that.

Viper could feel the adrenaline pumping in her, yes there it was, the spunky spitfire he fell for was back an with a vengeance!

“Thats good to hear, but thats just the first step in your road to recovery. I want you to take this a step at a time, in time you may learn to ‘forgive’ your family but don’t you ever, EVER forget what they’ve done to you. If you forget then your just gonna end up falling into their grasp again. On another note as a way to help you cope and give you a extra bit of therapy I suggest taking up a type of hobby. Hobbies can help you gain a sense of control over your life.”

The Doctor paused and looked down at their watch. “Oh, it seems we’re just about done with our session. If you’d like to set up another appointment please see the secretary up at the front desk, before you go is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

Viper looked at Josie, she looked right back at him before turning to the Doctor.

“What kind of hobby should I get?”

Doctor Fortune handed them a small brochure. “Try flipping through this and see if any catch your fancy, my suggestion is find a hobby you two can do together or by yourself; its really all up to you an there are no wrong choices.”

An with that…Josie and Viper left, scheduling another appointment two weeks in advance. As they walk outside Josie looked through the brochure, there were so many hobbies to choose from..

At least she and Viper can choose together.

[I plan to do more couples, I did a Symbiote/human couple to start cause everyone is familiar on what they look like thanks to Venom. I’ll be working on more monster like boyfriends in the future. I hope you like this, I’ll be doing more of this in the future including Yandere couples. This was inspired by @semisolidmind artwork, I also wanna thank @sarabat85 for helping me out as well. My next couple will hopefully be posted very soon and was put together by my closest and dearest friend @eomlotanis who has always helped me with story ideas and character development.]

[annab-recs]

Midsummers Nightmare - JJ Maybank

Rafe seems to have a little crush on you and you do not realize it until it’s too late. You don’t react as he had hoped, and you don’t have the best timing when it comes to telling your friends and boyfriend, JJ.

Requested by @rochyu 💙

Warnings: some curse words; small amount of verbal and physical abuse

Word Count: 2.2k+

--------------------------------------------------

"I hate your brother." The insult falls from your glossed lips as you roll your eyes at the eldest Cameron who stood farther away from you and Sarah, his blue eyes locked on your swaying figure. Sarah chuckles before nodding in agreement with your statement.

"Yeah, he can be an ass," the blonde in the elegant white dress acknowledges as she grips into your arms gently and spins you two around so that you don't have to be in his line of sight anymore. You give her a small thank you smile as you get back to dancing with your friend. The midsummers music flows through the two of you and together, y'all sway your hips and spin around as giggles fly from your mouths.

"I think he has a crush on you, to be honest." Sarah's sudden words cause your eyes to widen.

"But I'm with JJ." She laughs before leaning into you to whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I'm with Topper but I'm crushing on someone else too." She pulls away from your ear with the deepest hue of red spreading across her cheeks.

"Who?" Your curiosity is just dying to know but she shakes her head, indicating she will not be speaking more on the subject. You decide not to pester her any further and just vibe to the music with the brown-eyed beauty next to you. All good and fun vibes leave as soon as you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see who it is. Rafe.

"Can I help you?" Sarah spoke harshly to her older brother but was soon distracted when Wheezie came running up.

"I just want to talk to you. Please? I won't bother you anymore." The way he spoke sounded like there was something more bothering him and his blue eyes appeared to be almost scared. That in turn worried you and caught your attention so you nodded your head, letting Rafe grab your hand and lead you away from your friend and the crowd that had gathered on the dance floor.

"Okay, so what's wrong?" You asked him as soon as y'all were alone in a room upstairs. He still had that worrisome expression on his face and it just made you even more anxious.

"I need girl advice," he mumbled softly. Relief washed over you as your mind could quit making up worst-case scenarios and focus on the frazzled boy in front of you.

"All right, spill," you instruct, and he nods before beginning.

"Well I like this girl a lot, but I don't know if she feels the same way as I do. I think she does, but I don't know. I feel like something is holding her back."

"Do you think the thing that is holding her back can be overcome?"

"Yes, and if she's scared to overcome it by herself, I'll surely help her." It was nice to see Rafe be so vulnerable and open and it was a side you wished to see more of. As being friends with Sarah for a long time, you had known Rafe for equally as long. You have seen him be nice and sweet but as he's grown, he's become harder and meaner. You don't know why but by the way he's acting now, you see the sweet Rafe you had known when you were younger.

"Have you told her how you feel?" You question as you lean against the wall next to you.

"No, but I have made it so obvious," he states as he takes a few steps closer to you. Absentmindedly, you take steps back as well.

"Rafe, you like this girl. Tell her how you feel. Make your move." You feel your back hit a wall behind you.

"If you say so." His hands lay softly against the sides of your face as your mind tries to understand what happening and when it all clicks, his close proximity to you, how he's always staring at you, how Sarah literally said earlier that she thinks he has a crush on you, how the thing that's holding you back is JJ, it's too late. Rafe's lips are on your own.

You push against his chest to get him off you and your face shows nothing but pure disgust. As Rafe watches your actions, that soft and sweet Rafe you saw previously had left as quick as he came, and his demeanor changed completely. He raises his hand in the air before smacking it across your face.

"Rafe!" He has never done anything like that to you before so to say you were shocked would be an understatement. His hand comes towards your face again and grips your jaw harshly.

"I was going to try to save you from the dirty pogues, but I see that you are the same trash that they are," he spoke through gritted teeth. Using the grip he had in your jaw, he pushed you back into the wall, your head hitting the wood enough to leave you with a pretty bad headache. Your hand flies to the back of your head as Rafe walks over the window, gazing at the party below. 

"Looks like your dirty pogue has arrived. I'll take care of that." And with that, he left. You had no doubt in your mind that JJ couldn't handle Rafe, so you stayed put, mainly in fear. You could feel the stinging handprint on your face, the pounding in the back of your head, and it was almost as of Rafe's hand still had a hold of your jaw.

You sat there as tears brimmed your eyes. You would have to go downstairs eventually and have to face the people you had grown up around. You also didn't want to pass Rafe or his two lackeys, Topper and Kelce. Not wanting to see anyone just yet, you sit and think back on all that just occurred to you. You had never expected the man in the baby blue tux to come on to you like that and you definitely didn’t think he’d hit you.

Scrambling to your feet, you slip out of the room to a bathroom next door to examine your face. You didn’t look too bad. No one should be able to tell anything after you fix your makeup. Thankfully, you had brought some with you in your purse and applied it to where it had been smudged by Rafe’s hands. Your eyes are still tear-filled, but none have fallen just yet. You are not going to let yourself break until you are home, alone. When you finally build up enough courage to go back down and leave, you are met with a bit of commotion amongst the party as you watch JJ shove a guy in a black suit.

“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie and Y/n,” the battered blond speaks to you both as he points at you two. He moves his finger towards Pope. “Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll.” His attention goes back to you and Kiara. “All right, girls, come on. Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains!”

You happily run to your boyfriend and jump into his arms after he and John B salute each other. He spins you around as you three wait for the other two who have to put up a small fight against their parents. Pope runs up to y’all as his father yells from afar and he wraps his arms around John B. Kie comes seconds after, laughing as she runs into JJ’s arms. Pope pulls you into him as the five of you run away from the kook-filled place, but not without John B yelling, “Later losers!”

Soon enough, y’all make it to Rixon’s Cove, get a fire started, and sit around discussing what the mandatory meeting is about. John B explains that the gold in on the island before providing the evidence of Denmark Tanny and how he used the gold and his whole story.

“So, what’s the plan?” Pope questions as he looks at the letters with a flashlight. You look over his shoulder to get a look at them too.

“Good question. So, Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight. She’ll bring an original survey map-” John B starts but is cut off by Kie.

“Hold on. Sarah? Why Sarah?” John B stays silent while JJ mutters, “This is gonna be good.” You were just as confused as Kie. Why was Sarah getting involved in this? She was your friend, but she was not near as close to you as the pogues were and this was a pogue thing anyway.

“Sarah, um, she got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and that’s where I got the letter.” John B tells her as you watch the disappointment and betrayal wash over her features.

“You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” She asks as he agrees. Of course, JJ has to make the situation worse with his little comment, “He was mackin’ on her.”

“I wasn’t macking.”

“You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.”

“So that’s what Sarah meant earlier when she said she had a crush on someone else that wasn’t Topper,” You add before the boys go back to arguing.

“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was using her for access.”

“There was access, all right.”

“Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie interrupted the two boys bickering.

“I was just trying to get into the archives.” John B defends himself, basically admitting to telling her.

“Is that a yes?” Kie pushes.

“I- I left out key details.” He still doesn’t deny telling Sarah Cameron about our secret.

“Yo, what? You let a kook in on our secret? What about pogue life? What about the t-shirt company, bro?” Kie continues as Pope and you sit back and watch it all unravel. They all continue to talk as you zone out watching the fire until Pope speaks from beside you.

“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.”

“Yeah and he kissed me, slapped me, and pushed my head against a wall earlier.” The group fell silent at your confession. You didn’t realize you had spilled until the silence came over you.

“He what?” JJ spoke as he walked over to you from beside John B and Kie.

“When did this happen?” Kie asked you.

“An hour or so ago. It was right before we left. I came down and you were going off about coming here. I wasn’t going to bother you with it until later because I know how heated you get,” You say calmly as you grab his hand to make sure he doesn’t get too riled up and angry, but your attempts seem to fail.

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him,” JJ speaks through gritted teeth as he stands to his feet.

“No, JJ.” The softness of your voice brings him back to where you stand. The tears have come back, and one manages to escape despite your efforts to not cry. The blond pulls you into his embrace where you finally break down, the hurt and pain from Rafe’s actions finally taking a toll on you. Soon, you are wrapped up in all the pogues' arms as they comforted you. Later, you and JJ left for the chateau while the other went to meet Sarah.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” JJ asked you as you laid against his chest, his fingers fiddling with the ends of your hair.

“I didn’t want you to worry about it and if I had told you there, you would’ve fought him right then and there. I couldn’t tell you then.”

“I’m still gonna beat his ass.”

“That’s okay but be with me first. Your time for revenge will come, but don’t insinuate it. Okay? I don’t need you getting hurt more than you already are.” You lean up to rest your chin against the top of his chest as you stare into his gorgeous blue eyes. You bring your hand to rest on the side of his face, and he leans into your touch before letting out a sigh.

“Fine. I won’t do anything until it’s time.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek softly as his eyes fluttered closed. When he opens his eyes again, they appear to be glossy.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask as you sit up. He follows suit, leaning against the wall.

“I never want you to have to experience what you did tonight.” His sad eyes lock with yours.

“JJ, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you speak softly, running your fingers through his smooth golden locks. You let your hand trail down the side of his face to his arm and finally, it meets his hand and your fingers interlock with his.

“It’s not okay. You may be okay, but what he did was not. I’m not going to let that happen again. I should’ve been there with you tonight, but John B-”

“John B needed you. That’s okay. Let’s just go to sleep and forget about it, all right?” He nods as the two of you go back to laying down. You rest your head back down on his chest and with the soothing sound of his heartbeat, you fall asleep in seconds.

[descentivity]

Depression, Trauma, (and Most Importantly,) My Thoughts on Hello Charlotte EP1 & 2

Eating has been difficult for me for as long as I remember. It started off as an aversion to food, in favour of spending my time more efficiently on what my dumb little mind viewed as more important: Homework, video games.

Over time, it turned into anorexia. I had already gotten used to eating just under 500 calories a day, and my depression took my poor habits and twisted them into a cowardly and slow attempt at suicide.

On my road to recovery, I’ve found that years of poor eating choices have lead to my body struggling to process food. I have to eat at a painstakingly slow pace lest my stomach turns against me, and the smell of food is sometimes enough to diminish my appetite altogether. My bowel movements are, for lack of a better word, a shitshow.

This brings me to today, the 10th of August, 2021. 6 or so years of barely eating enough to survive later, I’m setting the world record for the slowest consumption of a fillet o’ fish in the history of mankind. 

In my absolute boredom and unfathomable stomach pain, ManlyBadassHero’s playthrough of some random horror game (I can’t remember the name) appears in my YouTube recommended, and I’m reminded of a horror game I bought on sale on Steam, the last of a trilogy. In all honesty, I only bought the game because it was dirt cheap and one of my sisters’ names is Charlotte. I was too horrified at the time to process the story nor play the previous two games, so I did a quick achievement run and left it at that. I was certainly very confused as I had no idea who any of the characters or what any of the concepts were, but the gore had me too mortified to go and find out myself. 

A year later, I’m looking the trilogy up on ManlyBadassHero’s YouTube channel, and decide to start from the beginning of his Hello Charlotte journey, in 2016.

Hello Charlotte EP1

I’m going to be completely honest with you, the first game really didn’t resonate with me too well. It was a cute, quirky, RPG Maker horror game, with two loveable main characters and an interesting world. However, with context from the third game, the events felt too self-isolated and inconsequential. Felix and Charlotte are in a little self-contained TV world created by a fictional race called Pythia - creatures with 3 or 4 eyes that can create miniature dimensions, once brought into a hivemind by an “Oracle,” which seems to be some sort of god. They all seem to be falling apart and have taken a horrific turn as most of the Pythia have been “executed,” and those who haven’t have either gone mad or into hiding in their own bubbles of (albeit temporary) safety.

The ending of the game is somewhat misleading, too. Once Charlotte and Felix escape the TV world by having Charlotte merge with the Oracle itself, the game almost plays off the previous events like they were all a story made up by a young and imaginative Charlotte. Did they happen at all? Is she a reliable narrator or point of view to begin with? (Spoiler alert, she is not.) The explanation for it all seems to be that Charlotte herself is a schizophrenic, though the legitimacy of this is brought into question in the third game, which I will talk about later. Altogether, the game didn’t bring out many strong emotions in me, and I was starting to zone out as I moved on to the second game’s playthrough.

Hello Charlotte EP2

What struck me as odd in the second game is that while the first game seemed to bring Charlotte out of her own strange, black-and-white world and back into reality, we’ve found out that she’s right back where we started last game. A black-and-white world, inhabited by her imaginary friends. Aliens, gods, and the like. However, Charlotte’s seemingly made-up world feels more alive this time. I’m not sure if this is the consequence of the game developer improving their skills or an intentional detail, but even more characters are introduced, and previously shallow tenants of Charlotte’s home are given more depth. The hazmat-suit wearing aliens have faces, personalities and whole backstories attached to them, now. Charlotte has a best friend at school named Anri, who has a obsessive crush on her. She’s friends with a bullying victim named C with horrible germaphobia, who has almost identical struggles to her (more on those struggles later.)

What also surprised me is the continuity between the first and second game. For some reason, I thought that this Charlotte would be starting from scratch, completely oblivious to the fate of the first game’s iteration. However, this concept only seems to be used in the third game, so I guess I was simply mislead. This game, in fact, takes place 3 years after the first, and the Oracle still lives on within Charlotte’s conscious. However, it’s a dying god, on its last leg. It had already been dying during the time of the last few Pythia, but it had used the last of its strength to free Felix and Charlotte from their world. As the Oracle’s health declines, so does Charlotte’s mortal body.

Unlike the first game, most of the themes in this game hit way too close to home. The feeling of second-hand helplessness when someone you barely knew ends their own life. Anri’s obsessive and outright manipulative lesbian crush on Charlotte, bordering on bullying. The schooltime harrassment and trauma Charlotte underwent. The fear and dangers of social interaction. Feeling unlawfully punished by your school teachers for seemingly nothing at all. Depression, self harm, and the primal urge to escape from it. Getting roped into others’ mental health, until both of your issues converge into a disgusting amalgamation of the need but severe lack of therapy and a break from it all. Delusions of what could’ve been and the possible, yet near impossible future ahead. Looking back on everything you’ve ever done and regretting every second of it.

While I ticked off the trauma presented to me on a silver platter in the form of a fucking RPG Maker game like a twisted bucket list, I found myself relating more and more to not only Charlotte, but the students around her. Scarlett, whose life was so perfect that nobody had even thought about her possible mental issues until it was far too late. Anri, who would lay down her life for a girl who simply doesn’t feel the same way. C, who desperately wanted to escape from reality by any means possible.

An interesting fact about Hello Charlotte is that there are numerous omnipotent beings amongst its cast. They aren’t shy about providing very in-depth character analysis to Charlotte, and in turn, to the puppeteer (I suppose now is a good time to inform those who are unfamiliar with the series that the puppeteer refers to a species, character, and the player, all at once. Charlotte has a puppeteer controlling her by the name of Seth. You are/are controlling Seth as the player. Capiche? Capiche.)

What this meant for me watching Manly’s playthrough was the feeling of two gods (in this game, at least) peering right into my soul, analysing characters that reflected my exact experiences and even my personality during my school days. I learned and realised things about myself that I simply hadn’t known before. Just like Charlotte, I’m simply looking for direction in life, and I’m too afraid to act without instructions. I found myself bullied, manipulated and abandoned by someone who simply wanted my affections, and only learned to miss them when they were gone. Like Anri, my desperation for love and approval from an individual in turn lead to anger and resentment for them. Like both Charlotte and C, I eventually turned to hurting myself to make all the pain go away, refusing help from others and developing a shell of false optimism and naivety to forget about the damage I had dealt to my body, personality and relationships.

As much as I hate to admit it on my little obscure Tumblr blog with 0 followers and 0 traction, I still struggle with these things. I have no direction in life, and wander aimlessly, hoping for one of my offshot attempts at content creation to take off. I find myself missing the girl who emotionally abused me to hell and back every day. I resent another girl for never feeling the same way I felt about her. I still don’t take care of myself, and spend every day in a state of denial about my physical decline and sickliness. I’m so incompetent emotionally that I spend days ignoring my own boyfriend, starving him of the proper relationship that he deserves all because of how broken, fragmented and distant my own mind is.

Hello Charlotte EP2 has four endings. All four of them, in my eyes, are bad.

In the first, C and Charlotte overdose together, leaving their mortal realm to become gods. They choose to ignore and forget the pains of their mortal lives, and live the rest of their godly lives in ignorant bliss. Do I want to forget about my depression and trauma? Learn nothing, and forget about everything that made me who I am today? Or worse even, do I dare take the plunge into “godhood,” and leave this mortal plane to end my suffering altogether?

In the second, Charlotte discovers that C isn’t who she thinks he is, and she finds him without a soul. Alive, but empty. Charlotte could not save him. Consumed by grief, she ascends and becomes a god, consuming the entire world around her. After all is said and done, she realizes her mistake. All of her friends are gone, C is still empty and unresponsive, and now she is alone. Sometimes, I feel as though I’ve already gone through this ending, many times over. Countless times I’ve let my depression become all-consuming and take over my life. I’ve pushed so many people away and hurt so many more, and for what? I have nothing to gain from every fit of depression, and the consequences make it seem nothing more but a selfish attempt to make myself feel better.

In the third, Charlotte is the only one who dies. In her last moments, the Oracle comforts her, like a mother cradling her child. They embrace, and say goodbye to each other, as Charlotte’s own life was the only thing keeping the dying god alive. At this point, I’ve started to draw parallels between the Oracle and depression. Depression isn’t always a horrible thing that beats you down and keeps you from being truly happy. Sometimes, wallowing in my own sadness and depression would be the only thing that keeps you sane, stable, and calm. The feeling of hopelessness really is bittersweet, and in desperate times, goes hand-in-hand with acceptance of one’s circumstance. Oftentimes, I find that this is the most realistic way I’ll go out. One day, I may just accept depression, and succomb to it. There may not be a struggle at all. Rather, a quiet, submissive hum, which will fade away into silence.

In the fourth and final ending, Charlotte and C die alongside each other. After her death, Charlotte confronts the Oracle, and wishes to save everyone, and for everyone to be unhappy. Of course, this is where the classic saying: “Be careful what you wish for” comes in. Because of her wish, everyone’s soul, what makes them individual and unique, is erased. After all, no one can suffer if they cannot think at all. In some ways, emptiness is pure bliss. This once again goes back to the bittersweetness of depression. The sheer emptiness it may bring on, at times, is bliss. Feeling nothing isn’t always a bad thing. It’s a way to cope with the horrors of the world. To remember nothing at all is such a tempting yet unattainable solution that I can’t say I haven’t longed for in the near or distant past. Charlotte, of course, is distraught that her friends are all gone, their identities and souls lost forever. Following this, she has one request to make of another god, the observer. She wishes to be killed, as all of her actions have lead to nothing but pain for others and herself. The observer, however, refuses this offer. Instead, he comforts her and takes her hand. They go on a journey together. He suggests that one day, she’ll learn to control her power, and she can recreate the world and her friends. As they leave, Charlotte reflects on her hopes and dreams for the journey. She hopes to learn to be kind, and not hurt others. She wants to change her ways, and become an honest, good person. Charlotte, slowly but surely, is on the road to recovery.

Putting the unsettling sequel to this game aside, maybe I could learn a little bit from Charlotte.

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 12

Hi everyone! Here is Part 12 and I hope you all enjoy! Stay safe! 😘

WARNINGS: Language and violence.

Stone cold. Ice Queen. A beautiful dead corpse is all I see when I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The midnight blue off the shoulder long formal dress I’m wearing is worth more than my apartment. The diamond belt around my waist is something I’ve never dreamt of wearing. The two slits above my thighs is something I’ve absolutely never dreamed of showing before.

I didn’t pick out the dress. Alfred had delivered it to my apartment this morning.

A hairstylist and makeup artist that Bruce had hired had come by just three hours ago to do my hair and makeup. My long hair is pinned up in a beautifully bun, and two long strands of my hair are let down, and frame my face nicely.

My makeup is natural looking. I’m grateful the lovely woman had noticed my discomfort and decided against the heavy makeup, and instead had given me natural look.

After she had left, I remained in my bathroom in a frozen, unsure state. On the counter lies a large jewelry box from Dick, with a note I hadn’t exactly looked at.

I inhale sharply and gaze down at the note.

Wear this jewelry with the new dress. You’ll look stunning. Love, Dick.

I can feel my chest ache with nerves and uncertainty. Opening the jewelry box, I’m instantly shocked to see a gorgeous diamond choker, two large diamond stud earrings, and a simple diamond and sapphire bracelet.

I don’t want to wear any of it. I already feel guilty enough to have to go to Bruce’s gala tonight. And even worse...

Accepting Dick’s marriage proposal.

I slip on the jewelry and finally look into the mirror with my head up high. I notice that I look exactly like the girls Dick used to date back then. The kind of girls I would never become.

A gold digger.

Eye candy.

Fame seeker.

I’m aware that I’m starting to slowly lose myself to Dick. After that awful night of him forcing me to do sexual acts with him, I notice he’s become more distant than I was. We haven’t even spoke since; only text messaging and having Alfred be the messenger between us.

Poor Alfred...he has absolutely no clue of what’s happening between me and Dick. I know for a fact that Dick must have lied to him. Dick must have told Alfred he’s nervous about proposing to me or something.

The thought of Dick manipulating everyone makes me wonder how far and long he’s willing to go just to save his face and reputation. Would he even manipulate Bruce?

If Bruce truly believed our “engagement” was real, then he would surely be fooled like everyone else. And then that would be very humiliating and disappointing for the detective; the so called Dark Knight.

I slip on my black high heels and force myself to head to the living room to wait for Alfred to pick me up. I mentally scold myself to get my shit together just to get through the night. But it’s obviously hard to put on a brave face when all I want to do is lie in bed and ugly cry all day and night.

No one will ever understand what is going on between me and Dick.

My best friends Artemis and Zatanna.

The Batfamily.

Justice League.

All of Gotham.

Jason.

I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes just thinking about him. Jason Todd. He was my last hope. The night I tried calling him to come help me was a failure.

He was supposed to break free from whatever Mad Hatter did to him.

He was supposed to help me figure out how to end Deathstroke’d evil bullshit.

He was supposed to save me from Dick Grayson.

Jason was supposed to be my hero.

My doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts as well as bringing me back to the harsh reality. I grab my black clutch that holds my cell phone and surprisingly hides my knife.

Just in case...

Alfred smiles at me the second I open the door. “I must say, you are an absolute beauty tonight. I’ll have to fight off men for you, Miss Y/N. Are you ready to leave?”

“Thank you Alfred. And yes, I’m ready please,” I say, stepping out and locking up the front door before Alfred escorts me to the elevators.

I’m grateful that Alfred keeps to himself most of the time. He keeps a space between us until we reach outside; the dark gloomy sky of Gotham sends a shiver down my bare back. I immediately regret not getting my white shawl to cover my shoulders. Alfred guides me to the limo and opens the back door for me to climb in.

“Master Dick is already at the gala. He said he’ll meet us out front for the red carpet pictures.”

I want to scoff. But instead I respond as nicely as I can. “Okay, thank you.”

My cell phone rings. I quickly open my clutch and tense up when I see the unknown number.

Deathstroke.

I look at the unread text message.

You better make sure you accept his proposal, Y/N. You’ll have to see it through if you and Dick want to live.

I can feel myself choking up from just the fear of this text message. Before I could even think or really do anything, the limo stops. We’re here.

Alfred opens my door and holds a hand out for me to grab onto. “Here we are, Miss Y/N,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Alfred,” I say, with a small smile.

Alfred helps me out of the limo and as soon as he releases me, the paparazzi surround me. I’m forced to shield my eyes with a hand from what feels like a hundred cameras flashing at me. A hand grabs my wrist and I’m pulled closely to a warm, tall body. I look up and see Dick Grayson.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dick asks, kissing my forehead, smiling down at me, pretending to be my loving concerned boyfriend.

I’m frozen from the affection but it doesn’t last long as Dick leads me inside the humongous building that’s holding Bruce’s gala.

I’m completely dazed from the million lights shining down on us when we enter the room. The ballroom is like a dream; marble flooring and exquisite art and statues surround everywhere. Men and women are dressed to the nines.

I even spot some Justice League members in disguise. Clark, Diana, Oliver, and Dinah are here and dressed so good.

I even spot Artemis with Conner and Zatanna with Tim, and even Damian, who are clearly shocked to see me here and with Dick.

I don’t blame them for being surprised as hell considering I’ve been MIA since...the last time they saw me or even spoke to me.

I frown and try to pull away from Dick’s strong grip to go speak to my friends, but he only tightens his hold on me.

My gaze shifts over to where bachelor and striking Bruce is standing in front of a tall man and blonde woman. My heart suddenly stops when I see Jason, handsome and sexy as ever in an all black suit with Isabel on his arm. He turns around and notices I’m staring at him. I expect him to glare at me or even give me a weird look since he clearly doesn’t remember me because of Mad Hatter.

But Jason doesn’t. He actually looks...confused.

I notice his dark hair is gelled but the messy spikiness is there. Possibly from running a hand through it. I automatically want to run my hand through his hair. I even want to hug him. I want to kiss him.

I want him.

I want Jason.

Dick practically drags me to the stage where he lowers his head to look me straight in the eyes.

“It’s going to happen right now. I can’t wait any longer,” Dick admits.

I swallow hard. “Okay, but could we talk about this first? Please?”

Dick shakes his head. Is he really going to ignore and pretend that this is all real? “It’s happening. I’m...I’m going to ask you to marry me. You’re going to say yes. You’re going to kiss me. And-and we’re going to live happily after. Do you understand?” he snaps, barely quiet enough for others to not hear.

My eyes glance over at Jason, who blinks a few times and looks all around himself and appears to be more aware. He turns to Isabel and he becomes angry; startling her and Bruce, and even others around them.

I look back to Dick, but I suddenly gasp in shock when I see Wally entering the gala in a suit. He stops walking as soon as he sees me and Dick closely together.

This is wrong.

I can’t say yes to Dick.

I can’t do this to Jason and Wally. This isn’t fair to them.

Wally loves Dick.

And I love Jason.

And the thought of saying yes to Dick makes me feel guilty because I don’t want to marry him.

I can’t lie.

I can’t pretend anymore.

I can’t do this.

We’ll find a way to stop Deathstroke. We’ll find a way to help Dick.

Dick stares down at me. His blue eyes are burning into mine. He looks pissed at me. He looks like he hates every single part of me. He sees me as his enemy.

But he can’t or won’t see how this is killing me.

“I...can’t. I can’t say yes and I can’t marry you,” I confess quietly. “I’m sorry.”

I notice Dick’s hand is squeezing my wrist tighter. The pain he’s causing me makes me wince and whimper in pain. His other hand is digging into his pocket and he reveals a small black jewelry box.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Jason, Bruce, and Wally approaching us with concerned looks.

Dick lowers his face closer to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to say yes to me, you fucking selfish bitch. I don’t give a shit about what you want or don’t want. You better say yes, and you better be my wife before I make your life a living nightmare,” he threatens quietly before he chuckles darkly. “Just like your past nightmare with Daddy Dearest.”

My eyes widen in horror when Dick mentions my stepfather; the man who emotionally and physically hurt me with sexual abuse. I lower my eyes to the floor. I know this has to be the final straw. Dick has crossed a line that I don’t even think he could take back or make it right.

I force myself to look back up at Dick but my attention is taken away from him and is now on the sky roof. Across the way on another building stands Deathstroke, who has his gun aimed directly at Dick’s back.

Oh my fucking God. Deathstroke is going to shoot and kill Dick!

Deathstroke knows I said no. He knows I’m not going to accept Dick’s marriage proposal. He knows I’m not going to do what he wants me to do.

I have to do something. I realize I have a choice. I know what I have to do.

And if I die, at least I die knowing I did care and love for Dick Grayson.

Even if he doesn’t love me back.

I follow my instincts that I was trained to act on. Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dick; allowing the faster-than-fuck killing bullet to pierce through my flesh at my right shoulder.

It burns. It’s making me bleed. It hurts like fuck.

I fall back onto Dick. He catches me and we crash to the floor. I can feel him sit up and gasp loudly in panic when he sees I’ve been shot and am bleeding.

“No...no!” Dick cries out. He puts his hands on the seeping wound and puts pressure on it.

Through the stinging pain, I can see everyone around us is frozen and staring in fear at the window where the bullet came from. I follow their stares and notice what they’re looking at.

Deathstroke is on the roof across the way. Everyone sees his gun is aimed right at the building. He shot me.

He waves at me and shoots his grapple gun to come straight at us.

[aroaceslytherin]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226306/chapters/76373429

Love is love is love...

Snippets of Regulus, Narcissa, Sirius, and Andromeda's love life.

What does it take to make a love forbidden?

Someone you can’t have, usually. Whether that means they are already in a relationship, or family doesn’t approve. Well, for the children of House Black; it is the second option. Throughout history and many generations, they have matured faster than those around them. Each family member had someone to marry by the time they were born. Although, most of these children found love elsewhere and were forced to make a choice.

Alphard Black was the second known to run away from family rules because they had not accepted him for whom he loved. Cyfrin Black was the first; he discovered werewolves and fell in love with one, making a family and home with him.

Andromeda Black also ran away; the first female to do so, third Black to run from rules. It irritated Walburga Black to see her family going against the rules - especially so that it reminded her of her brother.

You would never know how terrifying Andromeda Violet Black can be until you meet her. They raised her on pure-blood rules, anger, and dark magic, following her two eldest sisters who dabbled in Death Eater ways. She could have a few tricks up her sleeve. Especially with two mischievous younger brothers.

She was a hat stall. The Sorting Hat had tried to put her into Hufflepuff but eventually landed on Slytherin for her. Andromeda stood from the stool tall and proud like her family taught. Upon sitting with her elder sisters who were in year three, Bellatrix leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Four years with us, dear sister. I hope you follow us, ‘tis the only way to win over mother and father.”

Andromeda had then rolled her brown eyes. Surely at eleven there was not much you could do in a family of darkness except become the brighter, happier one? As Andromeda grew up, she rebelled against them. Instead of wearing black and green, she would wear earth tones; browns, greens, and oranges throwing in a bit of pink and blue here and there.

Andromeda, like her siblings, grew up lonely. Her mother; Druella Black, passed away when she was young. People said she passed during child-birth but she was there when her sisters were born. At three years of age, Andie watched her father mix a green sort of potion into her mother’s medicine. She wondered why he would even consider doing so. Later, she found out he did it so he could have power over her and her sisters - especially since he wasn’t gifted an heir (Walburga eventually took custody of them when she realized he was trying to get one from his daughters like they used to do in years past.)

At eleven years of age, Andromeda ran away to Alphard’s apartment. He hid her for three years until Walburga came pounding at his door; dragging Andromeda back home. At fifteen years of age, she noticed Edward Tonks (or Ted as he preferred). She would sneak off with him often, in hopes and fear to not get caught. Though at sixteen she had been and she ran away with him; burned off the tapestry, becoming a blood-traitor. She graduated at eighteen, married Edward, and had Nymphadora Tonks at twenty-three.

***

We all know they betrothed Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy, what you don’t know is that she was also interested in Severus Snape. She had flings with Lily Evans, dated a few girls in school; including Alice Fortescue. Like her elder sister Bellatrix, she kept her last name and slept in different rooms as her husband/fiance/boyfriend. It infuriated Lucius but he would respect her. (the only thing different was that she hyphenated it to Black-Malfoy)

Narcissa Druella Black was not a Death Eater like most believe, she did however have the Dark Mark that she was born with. It appeared on her left arm at eleven years of age. She kept it hidden behind long sleeves and arm sleeves. No one could tell which side she was on (in which she learned from Snape). She may have learned the ways of Death Eaters and Dark Arts from the time she could talk, but she may never have accepted that path completely.

Narcissa and her sisters did not have a good upbringing. Though being the youngest daughter, she had always been a powerful person mentally, physically, and magically which was an important thing to be when being a member of the House of Black or your partner spent most of his life in Azkaban.

Narcissa was the middle half of her sisters; black and white, never fully good but never fully bad either. She was a protector, a dreamer, a fighter. A mother, an aunt, and a lover. She not only raised her own son and daughters... but she raised Bellatrix's daughters, helped Andromeda with her daughter, helped/took in Remus, Sirius, James, Regulus, and Lily's kids when they passed.

She raised her son; Draco Malfoy, with great intentions and did her best to give him a better upbringing than she had. It was difficult to do so with Lucius Malfoy as a father. That is where Severus Snape stepped up and lent a hand to be a father figure for Draco. He protected him with all that he could. But was unfortunately too late in stopping him from inhibiting the Dark Mark like his parents. Lily Evans was a third parental figure with rights to him.

Narcissa screamed at Lucius the same words she had screamed at Bellatrix: “He’s just a boy!”

She may have come off as overprotective but she knew if Draco went down that path, he would never be the same little boy she had spun in circles in the ballroom late at night when he couldn’t sleep. She would stay up at all hours of the day just to see him happy.

It broke her heart when the smiles stopped. All she wanted was her baby to smile. Lily got him to smile sometimes, but it was never enough. It would never be enough for Narcissa.

Never enough love, hugs, attention, or money could ever repair Narcissa from the damage her family had caused on her and her son.

***

Sirius Orion Black. The family troublemaker, rule-breaker, and rebel. A lion in a pit of snakes. If anyone were to act like Alphard and drive Walburga even further up the wall - it would be her own son. She had never expected to see what it was like to raise Alphard all over again, but Sirius did just that. He had put up a fight since he was born.

At eleven years of age, Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and became the second blood-traitor. His father hated him from then on and would abuse him with the unforgivable curses. They told him he was no longer a suitable heir, and it fell to his youngest brother; Regulus Black. Though Sirius could see who Regulus truly was even if he was too afraid to find it within himself. Sirius understood that; their family was terrifying. Only in things for money, power, and keeping the name of Black pure. Though incest was the farthest thing from pure.

Sirius also noted at eleven years of age that he was a few steps ahead of his dorm-mates in puberty and interests. Within two months of him being at Hogwarts, he had kissed a girl two years older than him and was already trying to figure out the two girls his family had chosen for him to marry when they were of age. Kissing and flirting with girls made him sick. Sirius soon realised that he wanted one of his best friends.

He realised his feelings were getting stronger when his friends came back after Summer Break in 93’ and Remus’ voice was deeper, his face was sharper, and he had grown a few inches. Sirius could never act right around him anymore. He noticed little things about Remus he hadn’t before, his quirks became cute, changing in front of him got awkward, and he got flustered seeing him fresh out of a shower. It was hard to tell what Remus was feeling since he was always blushing.

He was thirteen when he first kissed Remus. They were alone one day talking about crushes and things when Sirius looked into Remus’ amber eyes and whispered; “You.” Remus was blushing hard and smiling randomly the rest of the day but either of them would deny it whenever Peter or James asked what was going on.

Sirius was sixteen when he ran away to the Potters because his parents found out he was gay and dating a half-blood. He couldn’t even fathom what they would do if they found out that his boyfriend was a werewolf. He would occasionally go back home just because of Regulus.

He would never forget what his father uttered to him just before he grabbed Regulus’ hand and ran with him out of their father’s office before anything worse could happen. ‘You disobeyed the rules! You are to keep the line pure, marry a woman and raise perfect heirs!’ It would never happen. And he even said it out loud; ‘That would be very unlikely.’ He closed his eyes to take a deep breath when he remembered what had happened next.

His world flipped upside down a few times; being betrayed by one of his best friends, living through a war, finding out he was pregnant at seventeen, and marrying the love of his life at nineteen. Although, when he had held his little girl (Omega metamorphagus/trans Veela) he thought everything would be alright.

Until it wasn’t and the Aurors threw him into Azkaban at twenty-two. He lost his family, his husband, his son and daughter, his friends, his lovers, and his brothers. (Remus rescued him two years later.)

***

Regulus Arcturus Black. Although the youngest and perfect in everyone’s eyes, has some pretty well-hidden secrets of his own. Like how he would dance with girls just to spite his family but then he would get his brother to signal for him if he ended up getting thrown towards a girl his family wanted him to marry and walk away.

Regulus Black...

The biggest rule follower. Followed in his family’s footsteps even if he had not agreed with everything they were saying. Did all he could to get on his parents’ good side. As he grew up, he realised there was no good side. It was either “follow us to death” or “run as far as you can and make a life of your own in hiding to gain safety”.

His parents were wrong when they said to him and Sirius that all they had in common was black curly hair, chiseled faces, and grey eyes. They were similar in brave stupidity, chivalry, and honesty. Regulus may have been sorted into Slytherin but there was no doubt he had a heart of a lion, making him a lion in a snake’s den whereas his brother was a snake in a lion’s den. Sure Sirius was a Gryffindor, and that is where he belonged, but there was no escaping the teachings and rules of their family.

You could change yourself, think differently, and behave differently but you were still going to be holding on to knowledge of Dark Arts and how to protect yourself even if it meant death. Sure other people would fight to death, but some would stop before someone got hurt.

Not his family. If it wasn’t what they wanted; they would never listen and never stop until the last breath was taken. Even once you get away from them and years later become unrecognisable to them, there are going to be moments where you have a thought or two on what they did, who they were, how you were raised, and questioning the lies even after finding truth.

Another thing they were similar in?

Being gay.

Sirius’ friend was right. You are born the way you are. You can’t help who you love.

And Regulus couldn’t help but love James.

It shattered him to break up with him when he became caught in the turmoil of Voldemort.

Once Regulus went running back to James - even though he was married to Lily - he took him back into his arms and they welcomed him into a home where there was nothing but love.

Regulus thought he could not love two people; that it was wrong. Even with seeing Narcissa and Sirius doing so.

They showed him he could, and it was alright.

They protected him, helped him, and rescued him.

Unfortunately he still died at eighteen leaving behind his husband, two daughters, a son, and another unborn son. (Or did he?)

***

So what makes love forbidden?

Nothing.

Love is love is love.

[angerrrabagwell]

What has happened to Gabby Petito has me, quite frankly, triggered. Honestly, I’ve been feeling extra screwed up lately. Ever since I recently saw someone who reminds me of a bad time in my life out and about at the same place I was. I haven’t been okay.

Now, this young girl (and don’t get me wrong, so so many other people), is dead. She is gone at the hands of someone who claimed to love her. And fuck, all I can keep thinking is, “I was that girl. I was Gabby.”

I think back to being an 18 year old, acting brave and tough all the time, while in the dark my boyfriend was physically and mentally abusing me. I think back to a physical altercation in his car - one where I fought back. Someone driving next to us saw and called the police. I watched the footage of Gabby and her boyfriend on the side of the road talking to police. In my head, I see 18 year old Angela, crying as the officers who pulled us over asked me if my boyfriend was hitting me. Through tears and a fat lip I told them we were just arguing. I told them that everything was fine. I told them that he would never hurt me and that the fight was my fault so that he wouldn’t get in trouble. I watched Gabby do the same. I saw myself in her. It tears me apart. I wonder if those cops ever think back on me. I made it out. Gabby did not.

I think back to being a 19 year old. I’m trying to get away from him. Instead, he shows up to friends houses when he knows I’m there. He drives around town, hoping that he’ll see my car. That’s when he starts to erratically follow me as I drive. I’m always scared. 19 year old me keeps trying to break up with him. He coerces me over to his parents house late one night. I was hanging out with a girlfriend. He didn’t like that. He was mad. I’m sitting on his living room couch telling him that I don’t want to be with him anymore. He walks out of the room, only to return with a chefs knife. I’m terrified. I’m frozen. He holds it up to his neck and says if I leave him he’ll kill himself in front of me. I’m only 19. I stay.

When things in life are going well for me he gets mean. If I played well in a softball game it’s “gay” or I “still suck.” When schools try to recruit me he talks down on each program. If a friend wants to have lunch and then a movie day I get accused of actually going out and fucking other men. He texts me every two minutes and if I don’t reply right away he gets abnormally angry. I’m always awaiting a punishment or a cruel comment. The only time he seems “happy” with me is when I’m being less successful than he is. I can never do better than him because if I do it’s going to be a big fight. It’s going to be a dangerous fight.

One night he kicks me out of his car at the marina. I don’t remember why anymore. But I remember being determined to just walk home. I only lived down the street. But once he saw that I wasn’t begging to be let back in the car, he starts driving, dangerously, towards me and slamming on the breaks right before he hits me. I’m frantically looking around hoping there’s someone out there who see’s what’s happening. There’s no one. I’m alone. It’s either get back in the car or take the chance of him running me over. I can’t trust him not to. I get back in the car.

My friends visit me at work and notice all the bruises on my arm. I show them a larger bruise on my upper arm and finger marks around my wrist. They tell me that I need to tell his family. They tell me that they’ll go with me so I don’t have to be alone. After work, my friend drives me to his place. He’s at work so he can’t intervene. I walk in with a friend and ask his mom to speak to her. I show her the bruises. I tell her which knife he threatened his life with. I tell her all the horrible things he has done to me. She says, “I can’t believe my son would ever act like that.” She sort of changes course and says that her and her husband will get him help. She tells me that they’re going to keep him away from me. She lied. They never did anything. Months later she guilts me by saying, “I don’t know where he would be without you. Probably jail.” Keeping him out of jail wasn’t my responsibility. You should have raised a better man.

I’m 30 now. I’m over eight years removed from this situation. Honestly, I thought I was okay. But recently I was diagnosed with “trauma and other stressor related disorder,” AKA pre-ptsd. It all stems from the five years of abuse I endured at his hands. The manipulation, attempted rape, using me as a punching bag, and the gaslighting to make me believe that I was crazy. Him making other people believe I was crazy because I started to lash out at him. I started to lash out and react because I was tired of being harmed. I see Gabby Petito and I see myself. And I’m fucking sad. And I’m fucking pissed off. Because this can’t keep happening to women. This can’t keep happening to indigenous women. This can’t keep happening to black women. This can’t keep happening to latinx women. This can’t keep happening to trans women. This can’t keep happening to Asian women. And this can’t keep happening to white women.

I feel guilt. I feel guilt because I never tried to get him punished for his actions. I feel guilt because after the years of abuse at his hands he went on to hit other women. I feel guilt because I know he has a live-in girlfriend now and I don’t know if he hurts her. Can someone so evil be worthy of redemption? Is it even safe to assume he is different? Every day I fear for this woman. Does she know that he not only beat me, mercilessly, but also completely ruined my brain. It took me years to feel better about myself. It took me years to feel comfortable with sudden movements. Honestly, I’m still working on it. Does she know that he went and put hands on the woman after me? Has the cycle ended? Does it continue? What if something happens to her and it all could have been prevented if I had just spoken up? Will the next girl be able to get away if he snaps?

I look at Gabby Petito and I see myself. Only I got lucky. She was stuck out there alone with her abuser. She tried to get through - I know she did, because that was me, for five years. I look at Gabby Petito, and I see a kid who deserved so much better than what she got. I look at Gabby Petito and my heart fucking breaks because we live in a world where we allow this to happen over and over again.

I’m mad. I’m angry and sad and frustrated. And I’m sorry to her. I’m sorry to her family. I’m sorry to her friends. My abuser got away with it. I hope that her abuser does not.

[writingformymentalhealth]

So I had this thought in my head about some arranged Marriage thingy with the Black brothers and I started writing it so if you like both brothers please read, and I would love some feedback

——-

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black

Masterlist

Tw: arranged Marriage, abuse, bad parents

Josephine Fawley knew she was in trouble as soon as she slid out of the elegant leather saddle of her beautiful white horse, seeing her fuming brother next to the house’s own stable.

“Where the hell were you?” Her twin brother asked, his green eyes that were so identical to hers glaring at her accusingly.

“Quentin -“

“No, Joey, Mum is throwing a tantrum. The ball starts in two hours.”

“Better get going then”, she said, throwing her brother a cheeky smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take Stormy.” He grumbled, taking the reins out of her hand and letting her rush into the house.

“Where were you? You will never look presentable in time.” Cordelia Fawley - charming as always, greeted her daughter.

“Sorry Mother, I didn’t know you wanted me to get ready so early.” She gave her mother her best innocent puppy eyes, and Cordelia’s facial features softened immediately. “Just hurry.”

She saluted playfully before sprinting up the spiral staircase into her room, hearing her Mother mumble something about running, being unladylike under her breath.

Josephine quickly showered and washed her hair, drying and styling it with magic - the benefits of being a witch.

She threw on less makeup than her Mother would want, slipping into her dress with ease and smiled at her reflection. The red satin material hugged her figure perfectly and she hoped giddily that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her. Even though Sirius and she both visited Hogwarts and practically lived together all year round, she missed him dearly after a week of not seeing him.

Her brother always said it was because they were friends before they were lovers, attached to the hip since the age of 9 meeting at their first pureblood ball, the parents being delighted about the two children of high-ranking families forming a connection.

Things had changed since then, Joey’s parents who always secretly preferred the younger Black Brother - Regulus being proven right in their fears as Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, bringing shame upon his family.

A year later Josephine was also sorted into Gryffindor and word on the street said Sirius Black corrupted the younger girl as in the same year her brother was sorted into Ravenclaw and Regulus Black, to the relief of his family, was sorted into Slytherin.

But much to her parents’ dismay, Josephine never really bonded with Regulus, despite them sharing lots of classes. She always found herself spending all her free time with Sirius and after they became official, the couple never really told their parents out of fear of the consequences.

Joey knew her parents would be rather disappointed, and although no child wanted to disappoint their parents, she wasn’t really scared of that but it was a well-known fact that Walburga Black believed in physical punishment and she didn’t want to put Sirius through that.

The voice of her mother echoing up the staircase interrupted her thoughts and with one last glance in the mirror Joey went down the stairs of the antique building, resisting the urge to jump them down as usual, trying to look elegant to please her mother.

“Josephine, you look ravishing.” Her Mother said, proudly stretching out her hand so they could Apparate while her father stoic as always already grabbed her brother’s hand.

With a loud plop, they landed in front of the Black Mansion, in which the ball would be located.

Inside, classical piano music was playing in the background, overshadowed by snotty laughter and evil talks.

“Josephine!” The airy voice of Narcissa Black - Sirius’ cousin echoed through the room.

“Cissy!” She embraced the unfairly pretty girl in a hug, Narcissa and her had known each other since the age of four as they both took Ballet classes till Joey decided she’d rather spend her time learning horseback riding like her brother, holding her breath till her parents obliqued not wanting their only daughter to turn blue.

Her brother nodded to the girl, his demeanor being unreadable for most, but Joey saw the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of crimson.

“Nice to see you, Quentin. I gotta go back to Lucius though.”

“Are your parents still holding on to the idea of an arranged marriage?”

“Yeah but I’m really glad it is with Lucius, we are perfect for each other.” Narcissa said, a dreamy look in her eyes. Joey nodded, faking understanding, resisting the urge to ask Narcissa when exactly she had gone mad, while Quentin just scoffed.

“Lucius treats her like shit, he is abusive.” Her brother murmured in her ear after the beautiful blonde was gone.

“I know that, and you know that, but I gave up on telling her that. Besides, maybe in this case ignorance is bliss.”

“What do you mean?”

“They will make her marry him anyway, maybe this way it will be less painful for her.”

Her brother wrinkled his nose in disgust, earning a sympathetic hand squeeze from Joey.

“Why are pureblood families even so obsessed with arranged marriages?”

“They all want to climb the social pureblood ladder.” Joey shrugged.

“That’s stupid. And even worse is using your children for your stupid desires.”

Josephine knew, her brother was about to go on one of his infamous rants and her eyes subconsciously started scanning the room for the familiar mob of black hair, which she found - well, almost.

“Josephine, Quentin.” The figure greeted, and Joey was once again reminded how much Regulus Black resembled his older brother.

“Have you seen Sirius?” she asked the boy, skipping the formalities.

“What she meant to say was, hello nice to meet you here.” Her brother said dryly, and a smirk tugged on the younger Black boys’ lips.

“I too enjoy your presence here,” Regulus said, looking at her brother. “And no I haven’t seen him, but knowing him he is probably hiding in his room.”

“Then I’ll better go look for him.” she answered, waving a goodbye at the two boys as she slowly went up the stairs, her legs automatically finding their way to Sirius’ room. In any other situation she might have felt guilty for leaving her brother alone with the quite intimidating Regulus Black, but the anticipation of meeting Sirius overshadowed everything.

She entered the room boldly, not bothering with knocking, her gaze instantly settling on Sirius’ back.

“What the-?” The boy turned around. Anger contoured his face, and he looked like a dog ready to attack an intruder before his stormy grey eyes met hers, instantly softening.

“Joey?”

“Who else would dare to enter Sirius Black’s room uninvited?”

“You have no idea.” He muttered, taking a few steps towards the girl, minimizing their distance, and just now Joey’s eyes trailed down his body, noticing that his dress shirt still was unbuttoned, exposing blue and purple marks in the form of knuckles all over his skin.

“Siri.” She whispered, trailing her hands softly over his bruised skin, making him wince.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did your parents do this?” She looked into his stormy grey eyes, her hands still trailing over his naked skin, leaving goosebumps everywhere.

“My Father to be exact, my Mother is more of a Cruciatus fan lately.” He said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood but just receiving a horrified look in response.

“Sirius-“

He cut her off, pressing his lips on hers softly, but Joey felt the neediness in the kiss, the need to feel that he was still loved, that everything was going to be okay and the girl gave him just that, she grounded him.

Slowly, she buttoned up his shirt, careful not to startle him or break the kiss, but as soon as she buttoned up the shirt halfway, he broke the kiss pouting at her. “You know some girlfriends unbutton their boyfriend’s shirt instead of buttoning it up.”

“Well, you always tell me I’m special,” she said, grinning up at him.

He pulled her back into a kiss, a more heated one this time, slowly pushing her in the direction of his bed, clearly trying to distract the girl from the fact that they were supposed to be downstairs with the other guests.

“Siri, if our parents find us here instead of downstairs at the -” he sucked on her neck making her forget what she was going to say.

“What did you want to say?” He whispered in her ear, gently placing kisses down her neck, making her body shiver in anticipation. He smiled boyishly, loving the effect he had on the girl.

“I hate you.” She mumbled, while tilting her head to give him better access to her neck.

“You love me.”

-

Her head rested comfortably on Sirius’ chest as they waltzed through the ballroom.

“How’s your brother?” Sirius asked softly while dancing, not missing a single beat, and Joey suddenly felt thankful that she told him about her brother not having to carry the burden on her own anymore.

Her brother was ill, Depression, the muggle doctors called it and Sirius was the only person, besides Joey and her family, that knew about it.

“He’s on muggle medication now, that helps a lot.”

“Your parents approve of that?”

“They aren’t as anti muggle as yours are,” she reminded him and she felt his body tense under her hands, “besides they don’t want him to die.” She mumbled, and Sirius pulled her closer, kissing her temple softly.

“How are things with Regulus?” She asked, knowing the complicated relationship the siblings shared.

“It just makes me angry that he is stupid enough to believe my parents’ blood superiority complex. So we are barely civil.”

“I’m sorry. I know you love him.”

“It doesn’t matter.” the boy’s lips formed a thin line. “he thinks I am a disgrace to the Black family, just like my parents.”

“Sirius Orion Black!”

“Speaking of the devil,” Sirius muttered, turning his head to Walburga.

“I have some people that you need to meet.” The woman sneered before turning her face to Joey, a sickly sweet smile appearing on the woman’s face.

“Josephine, how nice to see you!”

“The pleasure is mine.”

“I’ll just burrow Sirius for a few minutes, alright?” The woman asked, not waiting for an answer before dragging Sirius away.

Joey sighed, making her way to the bar, hoping that alcohol would make the people here more interesting and less intimidating.

She was on her second glass as a charming-looking boy approached her politely, asking for a dance. Not having anything better to do, and intrigued by the unknown face she accepted and surprisingly found herself actually enjoying herself.

Edward Bones was indeed a pleasant dance partner, lightly chatting about his love for chocolate cake and seeming genuinely curious when he asked the girl about her interests.

The conversation was abruptly interrupted as no other than Sirius Black himself pulled Joey away from the boy. “Excuse me, mind if I cut in?”

Sirius didn’t wait for an answer, yanking Joey away from Edgar’s grasp and spinning her into his arms gracefully.

Sirius glared around as if he wanted to challenge the bystanders to cut in, but they all knew better than to mess with a Black, hesitantly going back to their conversations although still eyeing the boy suspiciously.

Joey wanted to turn around to apologize to Edgar, but he was gone.

Sirius’ darkened eyes look straight at Joey. “I can’t stand these people always trying to touch you.”

“We were just dancing, Darling”

“Yes, I know that. But he had no business being so close to you and making you laugh and giving you that weird flirty look” Sirius tugged the girl closer. “You’re mine.” Sirius presses his forehead against Joey’s, gently caressing her lips with his thumb. His lips found their way down to hers feverish eliminating any distance between them.

“I thought we didn’t want these people to know.” Joey said, gesturing around the party, needing all her self-control to sound composed even though the boy was leaving love marks all over her neck making her insides melt like chocolate.

He looked at her, his stormy eyes resting on her green ones.

“In one and a half years you will be out of school and we can get married so fuck what they think.”

“You want to get married right after school?”

Sirius looked taken aback, gently caressing the silver ring on Joey’s hand. “I didn’t give you that promise ring just for show, you know? I meant what I said, I know you are the one and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.“

They both looked at the ring for a few moments, remembering the day he gave her that ring, at a bench in a muggle park underneath a cherry blossom tree.

“But if you want to wait-“

“No. I love you. I want that too.” She said, never being so sure about something in her entire life.

“I love you too Josephine, soon to be Black.”

Part 2

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Cell Block Tango - The Dark Marauders

The seven Marauders join the Dark side willingly and with a starking fervor.

They end up in Azkaban as a result. And generations of children visit them afterwards, treated to their stories and forced to face the horrible prospect that just about anyone can be Evil if given enough reason.

TRIGGER WARNING - CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY. (rape, torture, murder, sexual and physical abuse of adults and children, graphic depictions of violence and injury, etc.) READ WITH CAUTION. BE SAFE.

(The students are led into a pitch black section of the jail. Green and white lights flash as each of the Marauders sing.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto!

(“Hi, Minnie,” Sirius says with a smirk.

Mcgonogall looks at her former favorite students with sad eyes, holding out a shaking hand in introduction.)

MCGONOGALL

And now, the seven deadly Death Eaters of Azakaban

In their rendition of! The Cell Block Tango

(The Marauders whirl into action.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto!

(The lights stop flashing and come up on the seven Marauders. The students rear back at the sight of seven madmen grinning against the bars of their cells.)

THE MARAUDERS

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

They had it coming!

They had it coming!

They only had themselves to blame!

If you’d have been there -

If you’d have seen it -

I betcha you would have done the same!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

(Lily steps forward from the murmuring hoard. The students look up at her in fear, taking in her fiery beauty, hidden by dirt and bruises and scars. Her hair, tangled in a mad mass on her head, falls in clumps over her dusty and ragged prison gown.

She grins.)

LILY

You know how people have these little habits that get you down?

Like Harry…

Harry, my baby son with Jamesie here.

See, Harry liked to cry.

And cry, and cry, and cry…

So I come home this one day

And I’m really irritated,

And I’m looking for some peace and quiet.

And there’s Harry - lying in his crib, rolling around and whimpering.

No, not whimpering -

Crying.

So, I smiled and I picked him up and I told him, I said, “You cry one more time, little one…”

And he did.

So I took my wand from my pocket

And I fired three spells…

(In the back, James lets out a mad scream: “REDUCTO!”

Lily’s grin disappears in a flash.)

At his head.

(The spotlight around Lily goes out. The lights go back to flashing as the Marauders move spastically, grinning at the children and occasionally murmuring, “Boo.”

Most of the students have gathered around Mcgonogall’s skirts by now, burying their faces in her robes.)

THE MARAUDERS

He had it coming!

He had it coming!

He only had himself to blame!

If you’d have been there -

If you’d have heard it -

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The spotlight comes up on James as everything else goes black. He grins, a mad twinkle in his eye as he twirls his fingers as if holding a wand.

“It’s rude to close your eyes during a performance, you know,” he says. Some of the students look up. James grins wider.

“I’d hate to think what might happen if any of you were rude.”

All of the students quickly snap their heads up, some so fast their necks crack uncomfortably.

James looks up at Mcgonogall and grins manically.

“That’s better.”)

JAMES

I met Lily Evans from Little Whinging Surrey about ten years ago.

And I told her I was single.

And she slapped me across the face.

So, we started a little game of push and pull.

I’d flirt with her and bully her best friend, she’d hex me til I couldn’t walk and wink as she walked away.

You know - young love!

And then I found out -

“Only best friends,” she told me -

Best friends, my ass.

Not only were they dating -

Oh no, they were engaged.

One of those childhood sweetheart things, you know?

So that day when she walked down the hall by me,

I threw out a few lines as usual -

(From behind, Remus roars, “IMPERIO!”)

You know, some girls just don’t know the right man until they’ve fucked the wrong one!

(Mcgonogall covers her mouth with her hand. One of the students squeaks and starts to cry.

James looks up, grin gone and replaced by eyes that glint dangerously. He throws himself back into the others as the lights start to flash yet again.)

THE MARAUDERS

She had it coming!

She had it coming!

She chose the loser

Over the catch!

And so he used it -

And he abused it -

It was a fire

But not a match!

(From the flashing throng, Severus thrusts himself forward. The others freeze behind him as he stumbles to a stop in front of the bars, licking his teeth as he sneers and cuts his eyes across the quivering students.

“Well, well, well…” He says, and presses his filthy fingernails into his palms until they draw blood. He pulls his hands down his face, covering himself in red as Mcgonogall murmurs, “Oh Merlin,” into her hand.

He grins.)

SEVERUS

Now, I’m standing in the classroom,

Carving up some beazors for a potion,

Minding my own business.

In storms my boss Albus in a bitchin’ rage!

He’s got the Malfoys behind him and everything, something about me fucking their son or something or other -

“You been screwing the Malfoys’ boy!” he shouts!

They were crazy!

And they kept on screaming!

“You been screwing my son!”

(From the back, Lily screeches, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”)

And then they ran into my spell.

(Severus grins, drawing a lock of filthy platinum blonde hair from his pocket and thrusting it at the students. The ones it touches scream.

Severus grins wider, wiggling his fingers.)

They ran into my spell ten times.

(The Marauders start moving again as the lights start flashing.)

THE MARAUDERS

If you’d have been there

If you’d have seen it

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The lights suddenly stop on Sirius. He’s still slightly shrouded in darkness, wrapped in Remus’ arms. They dance slowly, suggestively, with Sirius sniffling softly the whole time.

Mcgonogall’s expression sags at the sight.)

SIRIUS

Depuis que j'étais jeune, j'étais différent. (Ever since I was young, I was different.)

L'accident. L'erreur. (The accident. The mistake.)

Le traître. (The traitor.)

Onze, Gryffindor. (Eleven, Gryffindor.)

(He tugs at his neck.)

Douze, fauteur de troubles. (Twelve, troublemaker.)

(He punches Severus, who spits blood and grins.)

Treize, Muggleborns. (Thirteen, Muggleborns.)

(He pulls at Lily until she wrenches away into Severus’ arms.)

Quatorze, Animagus. (Fourteen, Animagus.)

(He shifts into a dog and then back again in the blink of an eye.)

Quinze, petit ami. (Fifteen, boyfriend.)

(He kisses Remus filthily.)

Seize ans, loup-garou. (Sixteen, werewolf.)

(He drags his shirt up over his stomach, where there are countless claw marks.)

Dix-sept, Potter. (Seventeen, Potter.)

(He slaps James so hard he draws blood, who grins and slinks towards Severus.)

Merde! Merde! Merde! (Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!)

Et ils me détestaient, me détestaient, me détestaient… (And they hated me, hated me, hated me…)

J'aurais pu aussi bien être mort. (I might as well have been dead.)

Et j'étais presque - (And I nearly was -)

Douleur et torture et tourment et malédiction après coup après coup… (Pain and torture and torment and curse after kick after punch…)

Et puis l'un d'eux m'a attrapé le bras. (And then one of them grabbed my arm.)

Poussa leur baguette contre elle. (Shoved their wand against it.)

J'ai vu des serpents. (I saw snakes.)

Et puis j'ai vu du rouge. (And then I saw red.)

(From behind, Regulus screams, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”)

Rouge, rouge, rouge. (Red, red, red.)

(Sirius is nearly sobbing now, as Remus brushes a finger down his cheek. Severus sneers.)

SEVERUS

Yeah, but did you do it?

(Sirius gasps, shaking his head frantically and bursting forward, fists by his sides and tears whirling out from his eyes.)

SIRIUS

Uh-uh!

Not guilty!

(Sirius falls out of Remus’ arms and back into the fray. As he rises from the floor and joins the odd puppet dance the others are doing, Remus stalks forward, hips out and mouth curled up into a snarl.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming…

(The students jerk back from the bars as Remus slams himself against them and roars, cackling loudly. When he turns back to them, his eyes are burning golden and amber.

Mcgonogall steps back, shoving the children behind her. Remus grins and lets out a feral howl.)

REMUS

You see, when I was a child,

I loved walking around the woods.

I’d spend hours in there, you know -

Just wandering around, picking flowers,

You know!

Sweet, innocent, childlike things.

And then one day…

I’m wearing my favorite red jumper and skipping through the woods

And there’s this man.

He’s standing behind a tree and snarling at me,

And I’m backing away.

And I start running -

But the sun starts setting.

It goes down and down and down then suddenly -

It was dark.

And here I am, lost in the woods,

This wild man chasing me.

And I’m terrified for my life of course, and that was before he suddenly howled -

Howled!

And there in his place was a huge, hulking wolf.

And I stopped.

I stopped to watch him Change.

And he fucking bit me.

Lunged and tore at my neck and my face and my chest,

And suddenly I’m bending and breaking and Changing and I’m -

Well, I’m a monster.

I was in such a state, you see, such a state.

I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing.

(From behind, Sirius howls. Severus yowls, “CRUCIO!”

Remus grins.)

It wasn't until later,

When I was washing my parents’ blood off my hands,

I even knew who I was!

(Remus shoves hard against the bars and sends himself tumbling back into the others. Severus catches him in a dip and twirls him towards Sirius, who dips him in a filthy kiss before letting him go so they can both start dancing again.

Mcgonogall is nearly in tears. Most of the students aren’t so lucky.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along!

(Remus, still in the center, snaps his head back.)

REMUS (THE MARAUDERS in parentheses)

I didn't do it (he didn't do it)

But if I'd done it (but if he’d done it)

How could you tell me that I was wrong?

(He jumps back behind the others and the lights turn them all to silhouettes.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along (they took a child in their prime)!

REMUS (THE MARAUDERS in parentheses)

I didn't do it (and then they used it) -

But if I'd done it (and they abused it) -

How could you tell me that I was wrong?

(The lights suddenly all blink out. When they come back on, the others spin in pairs in set positions like statues, silhouetted in the background as Regulus blinks up into the spotlight.

Mcgonogall swallows.)

REGULUS

I loved Amir Levis

More than I can possibly say.

He was a real bookworm -

Sensitive, a wonderer.

But he was always trying to find out my secrets.

See, he'd stay up every night looking for me,

Me and our magical little daughter.

(An accident, let me tell you.)

And while he was looking, he found:

My wand.

My family’s letters.

My stolen Horcrux.

And my Dark Mark.

I guess you could say we separated

Because of a difference in foresight.

He saw me as a murderer coming for our daughter -

(From behind, Peter dips his head back and wails, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”)

And I saw him in the way.

(Regulus smirks and ducks back into the dark. The lights start up their flashing again, all of the Marauders tugging at each other back and forth.

Suddenly Peter is thrown forward, dirty teeth spreading in a grin.

Mcgonogall whimpers into her hand.)

PETER

I never really had a home anywhere.

Didn’t fit in, was always the outcast.

That is - until I met my Marauders.

You know them as murderers, of course.

The evil, the despicable, the unforgiveable.

The Dark Lord’s most ardent and deadly followers.

But I know them as friends. Family.

The ones who didn’t say they would kill for me,

But actually did.

(Peter grins and turns his back to the students.)

And I killed for them.

Oh, did I kill for them.

Piles and piles of bodies, scores and scores of secrets…

So much pain. So much death. So much… betrayal.

(Peter whips back around, grinning madly.)

Funny, isn’t it?

Betrayal is defined as a violation of someone’s trust.

A broken promise.

An act of the utmost disloyalty.

But I betrayed thousands for the only six people in this world I was truly loyal to.

Betrayal, betrahyal.

There’s still so much pain.

So much torture, so much torment, so much terror, and then…

(From behind, Sirius shrieks, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Peter’s grin twists into a snarl and he spits.)

So much death.

(A student lets out a loud cry. Peter cackles and snaps back with the other Marauders, all of them moving forward and backward and sideways in sync now. All of them have their sleeves pulled up so their Dark Marks, pledging their lives to the most vicious pureblood cause there is, are out for all to see.)

THE MARAUDERS

The dirty blood, blood, blood, blood, blood!

The dirty blood, blood, blood, blood, blood!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along!

Cause if they used us (cause if they used us) -

And they abused us (and they abused us) -

How could you tell us that we were wrong?

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They only had themselves to blame (they only had themselves to blame)!

If you’d have been there (if you’d have been there) -

If you’d have seen it (if you’d have seen it) -

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The Marauders all suddenly still and disperse, slinking like snakes back into the shadows.

Their voices fade as they do.)

LILY

You cry one more time, little one…

JAMES

Best friends, my ass…

SEVERUS

Ten times…

SIRIUS

Rouge, rouge, rouge…

REMUS

Fucking bit me…

REGULUS

In the way…

PETER

Betrayal, betrahyal…

(The Marauders’ mad grins shine from the dark long after the hallway has emptied of terrified students. They stay there, staring, as Mcgonogall takes shaky steps towards the door.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto…

(Mcgonogall reaches for the knob. The door slams in her face.

She gasps in surprise. From behind her there are snickers and giggles and cackles.

“Oh won’t you stay for a little while, Minnie?” Comes Sirius’ sugary sweet voice from the shadows. She turns with a pointed finger, but there is only black darkness.

Their laughs echo off the walls.

“After all… we are your favorite students.”)

[sweetestlamb]

All I Want for Christmas is You- Part 2

Summary: Mun-yeong realizes somethings about herself and gets an unforgettable Christmas. . 

Author's note: Thanks for all the love for part one, part two made my heart ache a lot while writing and there’s only one more part to come! Once you finish this part it will be pretty obvious what the next part will be LOL but thanks for joining me on this Christmas journey y’all. HAPPY READING. 

Trigger warning: mentions of child neglect, domestic abuse. Don’t read if those are triggering to you, do what’s best for you. 

It's her fault, she knows that entirely, she was the one to get her hopes up. When she came home and saw the suitcases on the ground, her heart beat skyrocketed thundering through her brittle ribcage babum babum it thumped as she dropped her backpack on the ground and ventured further into the lavish space. Fingers lightly caressed the matte black case as her eyes darted around looking for any signs of humanity.

Glasses.

On the pristine clear center table sat her father's reading glasses. The ones he would perch on the edge of his nose while he would look over his blueprints, nudging them up with a single digit when they slid down the bridge of his nose.

"Father?" The foreign word left her tongue, a word she hadn't uttered for months. She spun around desperately longing to catch even a glimpse of the elusive figure.

There was a distant sound of a door opening and then her father stood there in the hallway. Her lungs almost collapsed as she struggled to complete a simple bodily function she'd mastered since birth.

"Mun-yeong."

That was all he said. And it was the sweetest sound, suddenly flashbacks washed over her of running to meet her father by the door when he would arrive home. He would lift her up and spin her around, her gleeful squeals bouncing off the mansion walls. He would ask her about her day and tickle her little belly before she could answer.

Once upon a time they'd been happy. Too happy. She'd spent so much of her life laughing, maybe that was why the universe was balancing it out now. Before Gang-tae crashed into her world she had no reason to smile.

Flashes of her huddled under her blankets listening to the screams of her parents in the kitchen below, her mother's manic screech as she accused her father of cheating. Her father's adamant denials and then the metal crashes, her mother always became physical, bruises would litter her father's body. Then one day her mother was just gone. Without a single goodbye suddenly she was motherless. But she still clung to the idea of having her father, his love would be the balm on her wounds.

Then he moved them to the city, busy and bustling with life and movement and her eyes widened with wonder and she thought this would be their new beginning.

Her father took countless business trips, so much so that she never saw him, would glare at the other girls at the father daughter events. Remembered shoving a group of girls who called her an orphan, the rage singing through her blood.

Sang-in was hired soon after and she was a demon, she knew it and reveled in making his life a living life. She was demanding and bratty, crying and screaming in equal terms but he was persistent, disgustingly patient. He would smile at her antics fondly and never rise to her bait. Without her permission he was the first one that came to her mind when something good happened in her life.

When she'd written her first story, a morbid thing about consuming the things you loved, it had gone missing temporarily and then popped up in the visor of his car. When she demanded to know why he took her story his only response was, "It deserved to be shown off." She'd scoffed at the sentimental response twisting away to wipe at moisture that escaped.

So all in all it was her own fault for expecting something from someone who had given up on her a long time ago. Who she should have given up on too.

So she'd stood there silently with her father, deep wrinkles marring his skin.

Waiting.

"I didn't think you'd be home, I should have called first. I just came to get some important things, I have another business trip. Switzerland."

Important things. She took in the ties and pens in his hands, carefully folded clothes and sketches. Those were the objects he'd considered important here, she was discarded and left behind but those objects they were essential.

She wanted to scream, to hurl words at him like knives, slicing him up into shreds just like his words had done to her heart.

"Okay."

She collected her bag off the floor, walking past the stranger in the room without a second glance. It wasn't until she heard the front door close that she finally allowed the emotions simmering below the surface to erupt.

The decorations had been the final straw. It was salt on her festering wound.

She didn't expect Gang-tae to show up, thought that he too would forget about her existence. But instead he had tilted her world off axis, uttering words that her ears hadn't heard for years.

Love.

She didn't know what she felt for him exactly, she needed him that much she knew. She knew her jealousy and possessiveness wasn't healthy, knew that he wasn't hers, he wasn't an object or something she could own. But she wanted to. Wanted to lock him away and keep him to herself, there would be other Ju-Ri's- pestering ants- ready to steal him away and she wanted to smash them all to pieces. But did that translate to love, was she even capable of such a fragile emotion?

She falls asleep in his arms, rocked into a fitful sleep as he strokes her head whispering sweet nothings into her starved ears. She wakes up bewildered in her plush bed, thick blanket tightly tucked around her frame. When she ventures out into the living room after brushing her teeth and brushing her tangled hair, the sight of her boyfriend with an apron around his broad chest is enough to knock away some of the ice around her heart.

"What are you doing? You didn't go home?" Her voice is sleep laden and raspy even to her ears and she watches with feminine satisfaction as a chill runs down his body.

Twisting to meet her eyes, he locks eyes with her. The warmth in his deep orbs could rival that of the sun. It's almost painful to look at.

"Good morning. I didn't want to leave you. I called my mom last night, told her I was staying with Jae-su. How are you feeling?"

Like shit. Her eyes are sore and her throat is scratchy like she swallowed a bucket of sand.

He nods as if she spoke words, reading her face like an open book.

"Here." He hands her a cup of tea. "The soup will be ready soon and the rice is finished. Can you get us some plates and chopsticks?"

She absently listens to his requests, getting what they need on autopilot before sitting at the table and watching him move comfortably in her kitchen. After a minute of stirring and tasting he deigns the soup perfect and he brings the hot pot over to the table, before going back to scoop fluffy white rice into a deep round bowl.

The aroma perfumes the space with smells of spice and warmth, and she watches as he serves the food, handing it to her first.

"I hope you enjoy the meal."

She can't remember the last time someone made food for her, the closest thing she has is room service and one time Sang-in made a grilled cheese for her, too burnt around the edges and the cheese not all the way melted but she'd seen the treat on an American drama and demanded it.

"Thank you." She replies barely a whisper feeling vulnerable before him, he's seen her at her worst so many times but for some unfathomable reason he hasn't left. Unlike Sang-in he's not getting paid so she truly doesn't understand.

The first sip of soup is delicious, salty and thick with chunks of fish, potatoes and soft tofu. She hums at the flavor eagerly going back in for more, stuffing giant spoonful's of rice into her mouth until her cheeks puff out.

His airy chuckle breaks her single minded focus and she peers up at him inquisitively.

"What?"

"You're cute." He shrugs, looking her right in the eyes as if he isn't the same boy who blushes when she holds his hands.

"Cute? I'm not cute. And why are you so brave lately?" His confession replays in her mind, her traitorous heart thumping away frantically in recollection.

This time he does pause, putting down his spoon and looking at her over the  table with a serene little smile on his achingly handsome face.

"Love makes you brave."

She chokes on air, sputtering and coughing at his boldness again.

His laugh is loud and booming this time, rattling her bones and then he dives back into his soup with a happy chuckle.

"We're leaving after we eat. Wear something warm."

"Don't tell me what to do." She fires back. But she walks off to her room to change after slurping the last bits of the soup, ignoring his amused brows and knowing smile. Annoying.

He's changed too when she comes back out and she looks at him confused.

"I had Sang-tae meet me with a change of clothes earlier."

She wonders what time he woke up to do all these errands and why he's even going through all this trouble for her, she's not worth it.

But he looks gorgeous as ever in an emerald green turtleneck and dark wash jeans, his eyes are positively gleaming as he looks at her. She's swaddled in a cashmere cream sweater that hangs over her thick plaid skirt and tights. The way his eyes graze over her form makes her warm and she escapes before he can burn her up.

As she bends to tug on her winter boots she feels his presence behind her, he tugs her backwards into his hold. She immediately stiffens at the affection, unprepared for it.

"You look pretty."

Her heart flutters at the soft words whispered directly into her ears and she scoffs, leaning back further into his embrace.

"Why are you so mushy today?"

He hums instead of replying, suddenly spinning her around and she almost falls at the rapid move. He catches her with a strong grip on her waist.

"I really want to kiss you."

Her breath hitches as she gazes up at him, taking in his hungry stare and red lips. She reaches out to latch onto his sides, tugging him closer until their faces are inches apart.

"Do what you want."

He doesn't need to be told twice and almost instantly he's devouring her, licking at the remnants of soup on her tongue. She rises on her tiptoes to fully meet his passionate embrace, his love driving out all the cold that still stubbornly remained. His hands slide into her soft tresses as he bites at her plump bottom lip, sucking the sore flesh into his hungry mouth. A moan escapes her throat and she can feel how his fingers tighten on her scalp. When they break apart, he looks dazed running his tongue across his lips as if chasing her taste. It lights a fire in her belly.

"Okay now we can go."

"What the hell is this place?" She sneers looking around in contempt at the beaming families.

"A tree farm. I come here every year to pick out a tree with my family. I wanted to pick one with you."

She turns around walking away, skin crawling from being in such a place. He must have lost his mind. But he catches her hand in a large clasp and when she looks back vehemently, she meets his puppy dog eyes and pleading bottom lip.

"Please?"

She's not going to fall for that, he's not even that cute. No, she's definitely leaving and locking her door and telling security but to let anyone up.

"What about that one?" He inquires dragging her to another tree, identical to the one before it.

"They all look the same, I don't care. You pick." She whines for the hundredth time about ready to stomp and throw a tantrum like a child they'd walked past earlier.

He shakes his head and walks away again spewing some crap about finding the perfect tree for her. And then she spots a crooked tree in the corner, far away from the other trees. It's a decent size but it leans slightly to the right and the pines aren't as full as the other trees they've seen. It looks discarded and abandoned as a family walks past it, "Definitely not this one. Who would want an ugly tree like this? They all snigger. Something like sympathy swirls in her belly and she catches Gang-tae's eyes.

"I want that one."

He nods asking no questions, "It's perfect. I'll go get someone to pack it up for us."

It's not until they have the tree wrapped and tied that she remembers that they took a cab here.

"How are we going to carry this thing home?"

Gang-tae looks up from his phone with a smile before a car horn sounds behind them.

"With help." He points behind her and when she turns around she meets the grinning face of one Lee Sang-in, waving from the front seat. He hops out and immediately picks up the tree going back to strap it to the hood of the car.

Then he opens the car door for her with a bow, "Young mistress. It's good to see you."

She rolls her eyes at the title, he hasn't called her that since she was young and wanted to pretend she was a princess.

She hears Gang-tae thank him quietly before sliding into the car right after her, their thighs pressed closely together.

"Where to now? Sang-in asks adjusting his mirror

"Hom--"

"The mall." Gang-tae interrupts and she looks at him in surprise. "It's part of your experience, trust me?"

She doesn't respond but it scares her that her heart immediately says "yes", she does trust him.

When they reach the mall he grabs her hand again, pulling her out with a quick "See you later" directed at her driver, who nods in response driving off to find parking.

"Why are we here? I don't need anything."

He looks at her mysteriously before speaking, "You're going to buy gifts for the important people in your life."

Her father's voice echoes in her head and bile collects in her throat. He must notice the shift in her mood because he pulls her close.

"Shhhh. Not them. The important people in your life. The people who you love."

"Who....who I love?"

He drags her away from his hold and looks into her eyes softly brushing her cheeks.

"Yes. The people who make you happy. Only think about that."

Nodding she finally breaks from his embrace and steps into the mall, it's busy and crowded but Gang-tae uses his body as a shield and the shopping begins. By the time they leave the sun has began it's descend, vivid yellows and pinks painting the sky.

As if summoned the car pulls up by their feet, Sang-in hopping out to open her door once again.

This time when they both get in he doesn't ask them for directions and starts the familiar route back to her place. Head too heavy with ideas she stares aimlessly out the window, too overwhelmed to converse to Gang-tae.

When they reach her apartment she is unprepared for the sight that greets her.

On the sidewalk standing in the blistering cold are Sang-tae, Seung-jae, Jae-su, and Gang-tae's mother. They all begin to wildly wave when they see the car pull up.

"What?" She barely gets out before Gang-tae is tugging her from the car. Bounding over to the small group.

His mother is the first to speak, "Interesting how you slept at Jae-su's house but here you are at Mun-yeong's apartment." Her face is hard as ice while looking at her son but it melts to the warmest smile when she sees Mun-yeong. She ignores her son's breathless excuses and his older brother's mischievous sniggers at his little brother's discomfort.

"Oh Mun-yeong don't you look pretty? You must be cold, let's head up." The woman links their elbows and begins to tug her into the building. Seung-jae skips along with them happily linking arms from the other side and introducing herself to Gang-tae's mother.

Behind her she misses Sang-in trying to leave only for her boyfriend to block him, dragging him along with the group.

"So fancy." Gang-tae's mom whispers looking around, clutching at her threadbare sweater looking self-conscious and Mun-yeong tightens her hold.

"I like your house better." She says honestly, thinking about how much love is soaked in every surface of the small home. The smile she receives is better than all the riches in the world.

It's not until she reaches her front door that she remembers the mess she left behind, turning to Gang-tae with terrified eyes she looks for help.

He smiles at her, shaking his head and waving her in.

With trembling fingers she pushes the key into the hole and opens the door.

It looks at neat as ever, not a decoration in sight but all the broken glass and tinsel is gone. It looks reborn.

Breathing out a breathe she didn't release she was holding she steps inside, there aren't enough slippers for everyone- she's never had this many people over- and Sang-in rushes off to get extras from the front desk.

"Well, let's get started." Gang-tae's mom says, opening a large box she was clutching in her hand. Inside are the prettiest ornaments she's ever seen, homemade ones and lopsided ones that look like they were created by a child's hand.

As if reading her mind the woman lifts one bringing it closer to Mun-yeong before leaning in as if sharing a secret, "Gang-tae made this for me when he was six. He was so proud to show it off. Every year we put it on the tree, it deserves to be shown off."

The motherly pride bursting from her eyes steals Mun-yeong's voice and she remembers when someone said those very same words to her. Finding his eyes in the room, the urge to hug him washes over her but too frightened by her own emotions she hugs herself tightly instead.

"It's pretty."

And then it's a whirlwind of movement, Gang-tae's mother putting everyone to work- the men are setting the tree up in a corner by the window, while Seung-jae is on decorating duty leaving her on chopping duty in the kitchen.

"I'm not very good with a knife." She admits, embarrassed by her uselessness, it's clear that Gang-tae and Sang-tae were taught to be self-sufficient, both comfortable in the kitchen.

Instead of chastising her the woman takes the knife she was holding awkwardly in her hands.

"You need to hold it like this unless you'll chop those dainty little fingers off, I hear you're a writer so be extra careful. Just hold it like this and let the knife do the work." She models as she instructs Mun-yeong slicing the carrots into perfect rounds, before handing the utensil back to her.

"Try."

And so she does and they're nowhere near as perfect, not as even but they aren't too bad and pride sears under her skin.

"I did it."

"They look great. Keep going just like that." The praise makes her light-headed and she keeps chopping, wide smile spread across her lips.

"Hey Mun-yeong-ah, do you like this here?" Seung-jae calls from her spot on the couch, standing on it to put a sparkling string of snowflakes draping from the curtains.

She nods in reply. Too choked up to find her voice.

Her friend looks at her with warm knowing eyes before turning back to her decorations.

"We should let Mun-yeong put the star on top. Hey, Mun-yeong we're done over here, you wanna put the finishing touch?" Jae-su calls out to her, bits of tinsel lost in his hair as he waves her over to the almost completely decorated tree. The lights are twinkling, reflecting beautifully in the glass and she steps forward with her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

She stands in front of the tree, staring up at the empty spot for the star.

Gang-tae places it in her hand, his thumb gently swiping across her trembling skin.

"Here I'll help." Sang-in whispers, stepping behind her and lifting her off her feet so she can reach the top of the tree. Tears glisten in her eyes as she finally places the star on top.

"It's perfect." Her voice is too soft, she doubts anyone heard it.

But then they all explode in a small applause.

"It looks great Mun-yeongie! Nice job!" Sang-tae calls out, clapping the loudest before meandering off to try to steal food from the kitchen.

They all snigger at his pained "ow!" as he's thwarted once again by his watchful mother.

By the time they're sitting down to enjoy the feast her mind is going a mile a minute, listening to the rambunctious conversations around her as her world collides with Gang-tae's. She's never sat at this dining table before, opting to eat her meals in the safety of her room. But now she understands why others do this, eat together. It makes her fuller than the food she's shoveling into her mouth.

"One more minute." Sang-tae says loudly checking his watch.

When the clock strikes twelve, all is moving and she's passed from arm to arm until she's finally in familiar arms, Moon Gang-tae. He rocks her side to side as he tucks his head into her hair.

"Merry Christmas Mun-yeong, I love you."

She clings to him, emotions bubbling up as she fights back her tears. I love you. She thinks it loudly in her mind, this must be what love is. The way that she feels about him has to be love, it's too big to be anything else. She's certain.

"You don't need to say anything. Just know that I'm not going anywhere. That's love. It doesn't ever leave."

All these damn confessions. He'll be the death of her.

"Annoying."

He giggles before pulling away to hug his mom and Seung-jae fills his void, lifting her off her feet and she can't stop the cheerful laugh that explodes out of her.

She's happy.

They all clean up, pushing her on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate with large marshmallows. And then she realizes they're all going to leave, she's going to be alone again.

Cold icy dread fills her gut until the inevitable moment comes.

"We're all done. It's pretty late. We should start heading out." That's Gang-tae's mother as she packs away her things neatly and Mun-yeong wants to get down on her knees and beg them all to stay.

She's pulled into a warm embrace again.

"You make sure to come over often okay? We need to practice your chopping skills and fatten you up, you’re too skinny.” 

It's not a question but she still nods letting the woman hug her and Sang-tae ruffles her hair, punching at her chin and asking her to keep Gang-tae in line, she smirks in response nodding.

Seung-jae hugs her and promises to text when she gets home, skipping out the door to catch her taxi.

Gang-tae kisses her head and she presses her face into his neck, "Thank you."

He hugs her closely, breathing her in before twin coughs cause them to break apart.

He rubs his neck bashfully under the hard looks from his mother and Sang-in.

With a final bow, Gang-tae leaves with his family. But not before promising to come over tomorrow. Love never leaves, it always comes back.

Then it's just her and her driver.

"He's a good kid. Did you have fun today?"

She turns to look at him with wet eyes, tears finally falling after all the kindness she was shown today.

"Sang-in," she chokes out, "Why didn't you ever quit?"

He looks at her curiously before walking to sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to him in invitation. After a moment she sits down beside him melting into his arm around her shoulder.

"You were such a demon." He finally speaks and she turns to stare at him, his eyes are filled with fondness. "You were demanding and I was scared to come to work sometimes honestly, I did think about quitting once. Just once. But then I read that story you wrote, do you remember?"

She sniffles, "Yeah. The girl who ate everything."

He nods in agreement, "The girl in that story was so lonely that whenever she made a friend she would swallow them whole. Or they would run away. I knew that girl just needed someone to show her that you don't need to own everything you love. They can just live beside you, loving you too."

"I bought you a gift." She pulls away, brushing away her tears to collect the gift that Gang-tae helped her wrap in her room when everyone was busy.

She runs off to get the gift and brings it back to Sang-in, thrusting it at his chest. He looks at her with wide eyes before grabbing the shiny red square.

He opens it gently, peeling away the tape instead of ripping the paper, reverence in his very move.

He stares at the black box before prying it open.

Two buttery soft leather gloves stare back at him.

The gift feels stupid and too little in the wake of the words he just said to her and she's about to tell him that she'll get him something better and this isn't his real gift, she's never done this Christmas thing before she needs practice and--

"I love them."

He slips the driving gloves out of the box, sliding them over his calloused hands.

"Thank you Mun-yeong."

His reaction forces her to be honest with him, "I want you to be my driver for a long time. So you need to take care of your hands."

He nods softly, "Yes. I'll make sure that I do."

"I also got you this. If it's too weird you don't have to use it."

It had caught her eye at the mall, seeing it on others before but knowing she would never get to give it to anyone. But then Gang-tae had been there telling her to get it, she looked at him like he was insane but he insisted, "You know who you want to give it to. Stop hesitating, your heart knows best."

So she shoves another box at him, looking away in embarrassment, not emotionally ready to watch him open it.

He gasps when he does. A loud gasp that bursts out of his chest, he leans back into the couch as if sitting is too difficult.

"I.. Mun-yeong... I don't....thank you."

#1 dad.

Those are the words on the tie that hangs from his finger, the tie is silky smooth a deep hue of blue that has bits of silver when it catches the light.

In every sense of the word he's been like a father to her. More than her own father ever has.

"He's really rubbing off on you isn't he?"

She can't argue. Without his guidance she would have never done any of this, wouldn't have looked into her own heart to find these hidden dormant emotions. 

"I think I love him."

Sang-in stills before brushing her hair behind her ears, "Then I'm not the one you should be telling. Love should be expressed. “ 

“I will. I’m going to tell him.” 

Tomorrow can't come soon enough. She has to tell him how she feels.

I'm in love with Moon Gang-tae.