#maybe bc I felt guilty for disliking her? even though I had nothing to be guilty about she was a bad roommate

[totopopopo]

Why is my defense mechanism to be extra nice to someone

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

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[idontwanttowhy]

Review: Holiday Love ホリデイラブ (2018)

A frustrating Fatal-Attraction-esque jdrama

Synopsis

Takamori Azu (Riisa Naka) has been leading a seemingly perfect life with her husband, Takamori Junpei (Takashi Tsukamoto) and their daughter Nanaka. However, her world crumbles when she is told that Junpei has been cheating on her with a part-time co-worker, Izutsu Rina (Matsumoto Marika)--by Rina's husband, Izutsu Wataru (Nakamura Tomoya) no less. To make matters worse, she discovers that Rina won't let go of Junpei and is doing everything in her power to destroy their relationship. A rollercoaster of betrayal, mistakes, and obsession ensues.

AC Overall: 8/10, be prepared to be mad

So this drama is about people being unfaithful in their marriages and the tolls that takes on themselves, their relationships, and their families--and ultimately how they dealt with it all. I was very frustrated throughout the drama, partially because of the cheating and partially because of how everything panned out. But what kept me watching was the mistress, Rina's, plans to be with Junpei, despite both his wife's efforts and her husband's efforts to separate them. Be prepared for Fatal Attraction-level obsession. Matsumoto Marika did a great job playing the obsessed, unstable mistress. Give it a watch for the mess of it all, from will-they-won't-they get back together drama and possible revenge cheating, to unhealthy obsessions and extreme ~moves~ because of it. Some of it was predictable, but the execution was creative at times. And it's pretty short, good for a binge.

AC Review (Spoilers, and very long)

Ngl, this drama had me Fuh-RUS-TRA-TED practically the whole time. Bc I 1) could not understand Junpei for cheating and 2) tbh still don't understand how and why Junpei had two women who wanted to be with him. But I digress. Actually no, this whole review is going to be a digression. First ep we see Junpei fucking some other woman and they talking about "I wish I had married you" and love and blah blah blah. Which makes it decidedly not an "I fucked up and my dick slipped" situation. Not that the latter is better bc they're both shit. Idk if it's better if someone "slips up" because of a lack of control, or a strong love towards someone else. Jury's still out. But Junpei whispered sweet-apparently-nothings into this woman's ear for a YEAR, and dead acted like nothing was going on at home. And then had Rina assed out in front of his wife and her husband talking about "I didn't say all that" like suuure want receipts? So ultimately everything was his damn fault. Anyway. My girl Azu, blessherheart, was completely blindsided when Rina's (very attractive though also very abusive but very attractive and why would you want Junpei over him but yeah he's abusive so I get it but if he wasn't then...) husband showed up with a beat-up Junpei talking 'bout "he's fucking my wife, what are we going to do?". And poor Nanaka! The children in both marriages suffered the most bc they really were just innocent bystanders who got caught up in the bull and will probably have some trauma because of it. Like Nanaka was such a happy spirit but got depressed when she lost all her friends! My heart really went out to her.

Anyway anyway. So my girl Azu did the right thing at first--had Junpei's ass sleeping in the car and everything, which I loved, and was determined to divorce him. But then she got tricked into (almost) sleeping with a Japanese Micheal Cera (simultaneously old- and young-looking somehow) by a client-like gurl. I was proud that she stopped it (and he didn't continue without consent) but like, her sister and best friend's response was like "how could you (almost) fuck a stranger" and I'm sitting here like "she was drunk? he was blackmailed into this? she thought she knew him at least a little? and she realized she didn't want to and didn't actually have sex with him? and where was this energy when they found out about Junpei??". And then the best friend proceeded to give shit advice, talking about "don't tell Junpei, it'll ruin his ego" when realistically, she shoulda just told him the minute she decided she wanted to be with him still (which I'll discuss later) bc they were split up at the time, and he did (arguably, though maybe not, still depends on the person's pov) worse. But no, he found out through the mistress (of course!) and thus put Azu in purgatory. Her flip in the decision to be with him again was because he had always been there...which I get (prob bc of my scorpio sun) but ughhh I wish she hadn't welcomed him back so easily. Like yeah, say you still want to be with him, sure, but make him sweat at least a little more? Make him beg? act different? idk. She made him feel too comfortable too quick, which made him feel more entitled to being upset about her and JMichael Cera talking about "I know I shouldn't be mad, kedo..." and making my girl Azu sad, which leads me to...

THE MISTRESS. with her baby voice. wtf. And Junpei couldn't keep his dick in his pants even after all the shit. I mean, they didn't fuck but dude was acting sus again around her, which was just more fodder for her in the end. (His only other female co-worker watching and knowing everything was me the whole time. Like, you dumb, dumb man). He was waaay too nice after all the shit, letting her into his dorm and letting her do him favors so he felt guilty and letting her try to talk him into leaving his wife. I was sooo mad that after all the mess, Junpei still didn't grow any balls to say to her, point-blank, "I'm not leaving my wife, please leave" until way too late for me. And she really, and i mean REALLY, went out of her way to get Azu to cheat and molded him like putty. I had no faith in Junpei. Throughout the whole thing. Dude is spineless. And...so was Wataru, but in the macho-man kind of way. Controlling to hide his insecurities. Violent for no reason (did we need the r. scene? fuck) But in the end, he was the one that caved the least when it came to the cheating, trying to figure out what happened, and taking concrete steps rather than the wishy-washy moves Azu and Junpei were making. And then he grew as a father after kicking Rina out, because then he spent time with the kids (after his mom said she had a life lol) and they ultimately chose him in Tokyo which was super interesting and redeeming...wait wait wait but he was still very abusive and there is no excuse for that. I really had to stop myself--whenever he wasn't yelling at grown ass adults and breaking shit--from thinking that he was a good person. The struggle. But this man really said everyone's dumb, and I low-key agree. I could understand him the most (though it doesn't excuse anything, ik ik). But I would've changed the locks too.

We gotta talk about the best friend too. I watched on viki with the comments, so throughout the show people were like "oh they should be together" and shit, which had me kinda tight because I really appreciate when shows allow for platonic friendship between a cishet- man and woman? Esp without one professing their ever-present love to the other. Dude gave shit advice but ultimately was the only one thinking straight and suspecting Rina was behind it all. And then actually doing the groundwork to prove it. And he sent her new clients when the news of the affair broke and everything. And and he had Nanaka's approval. Honestly there wasn't anything to dislike (except the shit advice...).

The ending tho, was the kicker. Homegirl put on a whole play for the company and really sought to end his life. I expected something, bc how could someone as obsessed as she was just back off? (and he deserved it bc Junpei didn't sacrifice enough for me, got around everyone knowing about his affair but had his wife's business out on the street, didn't have to lose his job like he was supposed to, etc...) but I didn't expect a performance. The flair. A1.

This show didn't necessarily have me gasping (except for that scene)--more like "wow I saw that coming but wow they really did that". Good stuff. And I learned that in Japan if a spouse cheats or otherwise does something that's cause for divorce, they have to pay a compensation fee! Wild.

If you made it to the end of this rant, I appreciate you ;

[asillydreamer-on-a-crazyworld]

I like that they will get a divorce but I hate that is was Dean that handed it over. The last few episodes the writers are trying really hard to make Dean look like the good guy, even though he has been the worst husband ever. I hate we never got an argument about the cancer lie and it looks like it will never happen now. Dean always talks about how it is her fault that everything bad has happend, like wtf? Also I kind of had to cringe when I saw the new promo with Beth hugging Dean.

You know… I wish it was her too, just bc I would feel better watching Beth hand the papers to him. But this is me saying what I wanted, however, this is not my story, it’s Beth’s. I understand why the writers chose to not follow that path, bc I get it. She wouldn’t ask for a divorce now, bc like we saw later in that scene of her laying on a bed with Ruby and Annie by her side, her only worry was about her kids and about not having anything of hers to get from this divorce.

Where would she live if he took the house? How would she support herself and the kids? What if HE TOOK THE KIDS FROM HER? 

Like me and other ppl always talked about, Beth doesn’t have anything on her name. It’s all Dean’s. She was trying to take her own steps into life by herself again, be someone that could provide for her kids alone. Until Dean forced her to give up on this dream bc of jealousy. How could she be the one asking for a divorce now, if she just found herself in debt with Rio again? 

and look, I don’t see how this could have happened in a different way, how Beth could be the one at this point of the show to ask a divorce from Dean when they both care about the kids a lot and these children have gone through a lot lately. We know Beth would never put her children on the terrible situation of having both their parents fighting over a divorce like I think it would happen if Beth snapped and told Dean to leave.

I mean, he would probably take the kids away from her bc rn he has control of the money they have and everything else. Right now, Beth has nothing, no money, no properties, nothing on her name. How would she fight over the custody of her kids?

I know we wanna things to happen in a certain way, one that pleases us but one thing I love in this show is how even though there are a lot of crazy things and circumstances happening in the women’s lives, many things happen just like real life… Especially the relationships in this show. One proof of that is how I’ve seen posts here, some I wrote myself, about how we all related to some things that happened to these women. Hell, some even could relate to MP as well.

so, it made sense to me that, in the end, he was the one to ask for the divorce and I was glad that the first thing she asks or talks about is the kids. When she said “but I’m trying”, I don’t think she was pleading for another chance on their marriage for him, but for her kids.

That is why I loved how she went and told him she liked to have sex with Rio ( we could argue it was not bc of that at all only bc it was just 2 times but this is for another post). It must have hurt a LOT to Dean, bc I believe one thing he hated the most was the fact that Rio had Beth, more than once in his head ( well, now it is true lol). We all know he rly didn’t care for the criminal activities she was getting herself into, bc he even offered to help. U can argue with me about his motivations but we all know he really gave her an ultimatum and started talking about “Worrying for the kids’ safety” after he realized Beth and Rio had sex.

That being said, I do believe that Dean finally realized himself that forcing Beth to accept his terms wouldn’t do any good in the long run. He knows she would keep cheating him with crime/ Rio in his head ( he has been there himself lol). And for a man like Dean who couldn’t stomach the fact that it was his wife now cheating on him.. Doing something he knew it was not fair to someone u were supposed to love? He couldn’t deal with that. He is still such a misogynist man bc I think he couldn’t make himself play house with her knowing she would probably come back to Rio in his head and keep fucking him, like I believe Beth would, happily, if so to keep her kids with her.

Classic  White male. I had this theory that maybe he would flip and blackmail her and well… In a way he did but I think that it was better this way. Beth didn’t become weaker in my eyes just bc she wasn’t the one to ask for a divorce and less of a boss bitch.

 I understand your frustration about the lack of confrontation about the cancer lie but I agree with @bensonstablers about the reasons why this didn’t happen. One of them is how Beth felt guilty herself that he was shot and probably that she didn’t know how to feel… If she was relieved or disappointed that her husband almost died. Beth is not a mean, evil person and even if I agree Dean is not the husband of the year, far from it, he is not a monster. He is good with the kids ( even if he lost his own in his damn house) and I believe that he cares for Beth, even in his twisted way. So I think deep down, Beth couldn’t wish for Dean’s death or be happy about it bc she is not a selfish person. She probably thought of her kids, without a father they certainly love and how close they were to lose him.

It doesn’t mean that all the things left unsaid between them can’t come back later… I doubt this season will be the last for Dean / Matthew Lillard. And the last episode showed us that the writers don’t forget things…So, I also wouldn’t say they are gonna try to make Dean look good… Or bad… I mean, I know there are characters we all hate with a passion, but underneath it all, at least I know that everyone in this show is not all black or White… They all navigate in between, meaning that none of them are sinners or saints. They have good and bad sides and they make a lot of mistakes, and some are leaning more on the dark side than others.

That is sometimes I say that I love to hate a certain character, but I’m mostly just kidding. I know that we need to see these characters with an open mind bc they are complex, beautifully written characters and that is why I love this show so much and why I have so much Faith in the writers of this show. 

They are not perfect and maybe they can disappoint me in some way - bc let’s face it, it happens!-, but right now I’m liking the direction they are taking things.

And about that hug?

I wouldn’t worry about it. I mean, I reblogged a post here talking about that hug and I meant what I said: it’s not bc they are divorcing that they need to be enemies now. These two share the same love for their children and they know each other for more than 20 years. Also, I don’t think Dean hate Beth enough to not offer her some kind of comfort when she is so worried about going to jail and be separated from her kids.

Again, I understand ur dislike or even disgust for that scene, bc like urself I’m not blind to Dean’s faults ( they were many after all), but again, he is not the monster of the story. Not right now anyway.

[mvrlcy]

.･:*:･ﾟ’ twenty two year old cis male marley redd was made in brooklyn and attended st. jude’s. he still resides in new york, and are currently a professional ballet dancer. they are matching twin outfits in childhood photos, a boyfriend or hookup’s too-big hoodie with tights & leg warmers, scissors dragging against the bottom of pointe shoes, hours spent scrutinizing in front of a mirror and a docile, rosy-cheeked smile. onlookers say they resemble troye sivan.

it’s me... again. you’re going to get sick of me, i swear it. marley is an older muse of mine ( like all of a month old ) so he has... wait for it.... an actual bio!! and so does his brother who is played by my friend so like watch out for this Content™ also i’m very currently watching a movie so if this makes no sense, now you know why!

trigger warnings: ed related content, homophobia & some nsfw mentions

HISTORY

marley was born on the gold coast of australia, two minutes older than his twin brother ( @cmerys ) and their younger brother. their mother was a fairly successful ballet dancer for the australian ballet and i’d imagine she wanted both twins to follow in her footsteps. marley took up dancing like he was born to do it ( and perhaps he was ) but he seemed to get all the talent in that regard, leaving nothing left for emery as far as dance was concerned. that was alright though – one prodigy is probably all a family can hope for in the first place. with marley in a place of honor in his mother’s eyes and their younger brother being dad’s favorite for his more stereotypical masculine interests, that left little room for emery. marley, being a compassionate and caring lil darling, took it upon himself to care for his younger brother. he’ll tease em mercilessly but he’s the only one allowed to do so.

tw eating disorder the only other thing that marley cares about nearly as much as he does his twin brother is dance. classical music flows through his blood and from as early as age four, he’s been putting in countless hours at the dance studio and practicing at home in his ‘free time’. he’s good. really good. so good that they moved to brooklyn ny at the age of 12 because he’d learned all he can learn in australia. but it’s also affected him mentally. to be the best, he works out obsessively and cuts corners food wise. the twins were already slender but over the years, marley dropped down in weight until he was little more than muscle on bone. he doesn’t notice it as a problem and in some ways, his profession encourages it. it’s kind of your ballet dancer trope for a reason! he’s gotten the nickname little redd for his incredibly petite frame and the only one who has caught on is emery who tries to help in his own soft way.

personality wise, marley tries to make up for the shyness of his twin brother. bright and open, he’s literally a social butterfly. it’s also a bit of a cover for his own crippling internalized insecurities, assuming that by projecting this saccharine sweet demeanor, no one will look below the surface. but essentially just picture a little angel boy and you have marley redd. he tries to be friends with everyone, avoids conflict like its his job and tends to be a little taken advantage of for how genuinely nice he is.

he’s known from a young age that he was gay. it’s never really been a question. he was assumed as much since he was a male ballet dancer and he kind of hated fitting into that stereotype but alas. one cannot help who one is attracted to! plus he’s usually found with a bit of makeup on ( a hobby he picked up from his dance ) and wearing very effeminately oversized hoodies and tight leggings w/ leg warmers. it’s not hard to guess. he was never really popular in the first place ( more so just with girls who kind of wanted him to be their token gay best friend, even before he came out ) so in order to save emery ( who is also queer ) the pain and bullying of being the out kid in school, marley came out first! in fact, em never really had to – people just assumed.

tw n*sfw? sexually, marley is more experienced than his angelic demeanor lets on. he accidentally flirts and tends to say yes to guys way too easily. it’s like deceptive innocence on the streets and anything but innocent in the sheets. he loves being straight boys’ first gay experience or being the obediently little sub for those with more skills and prowess. down for anything bc again, a little gullible. it’s where his secret has come into play. emery got a boyfriend at the end of last year! his first bc lil em is very shy and docile. marley... was a little jealous but it was cool! it was fine! until the boyfriend started making passes at him. and marley really did think the boyf was hot and emery wasn’t ready for that step yet so. one thing led to another and they started up a tryst! a tryst he felt guilty about every time it happened but y’know. marley got himself a boyfriend but continually found himself with emery’s. eventually the cheating and the betrayal of his brother got to be too much. at a halloween party where he snuck off with emery’s beau, he eventually confessed to his brother afterwards that he cheated (not who with though). he was subsequently dumped by his own boyfriend but can’t for the life of him figure out why or how he found out.

PRESENT ( IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE, READ THIS )

with his skill in dance quickly growing in the creative nyc setting, marley auditioned for plenty of renowned ballet companies. much to his surprise and delight, the nyc ballet invited him to join their corps. they put him and emery (because he wasn’t going to leave his bby brother behind ) up in an apartment of their own, freeing them from under the thumb of their parents. he’s working extra hard because he wants to be a featured dancer someday ( and someday soon! the youngest ever soloist was 20 so he’s already two years behind! a boy’s gotta work which is also dangerous bc he’s already pushing himself too hard! )

summary: marley is a tiny dancing cliche and a little softie sweetheart who just wants to be everyone’s friend. he has his own mental / image issues which he buries beneath a smile but all in all he’s living his dream. he loves his twin brother more than life itself and has been in brooklyn since 12 and in the ballet since last year so give me all the plots!!

IDEAS!!

hookups

his most ex boyfriend ( they broke up after halloween and dated about 4 months ) ** this is gonna be a wc if no one can take it up

emery’s ex boyfriend -- THEO

'straight boy’ crushes

gym rat -- KENNY

close friends ( all or most probably girls tbh ) -- GIGI

big party friend group -- MARGOT, more open

someone interested in ballet who idolizes marley

dancer friend

boy he’s gonna try and set up with emery out of guilt

neighbor

bad influence

older ex boyfriends / ex flings 

someone protective over marley

mutually protective over emery -- JAMILA

someone he’s protective over -- JAIME

someone whose boyfriend marley flirted with / maybe slept with 

sibling type friendship 

wingperson -- JAMILA

unrequited crush

childhood friends who visited australia

mutual dislike

confidant ( besides em ) -- GIGI

 that’s.... all i got

[daveyjacobss]

cold coffee | davey jacobs

french vanilla part two

inktober day nine

reader x davey jacobs

[newsies modern au]

summary: Warm mornings and sweet love songs are things of the past. Regret and cold coffee are all that remains.

a/n: pls let me know if you get the feeling like you just watched the end of la la land after this bc the end is sort of inspired by that and that’s what it feels like for me. i’m sorry that i crushed the cute couple’s dreams !! pls don’t hate me !! but in other news this is literally 3700 something words so y’all better enjoy. also (and i know you guys will be happy about this one) guess who’s turning french vanilla into a series?? ;)

( french vanilla masterlist )

__________

Davey and Y/N had been apart longer than they had been together. The time they had spent by each others side was characterized by warm mornings and cold nights spent talking and kissing and everything in between. Their relationship had been lyrics from love songs written in french and the smell of Davey's regular order at the coffee shop Y/N had worked at. Now, after an entire year of being together, and over a year being apart, their relationship was nothing but bittersweet memories. Nothing but the sting Y/N felt in her heart when she smelled French vanilla coffee. Nothing but the way Davey skipped over the song La Vie En Rose whenever it came up on his phone. Nothing but memories that were too painfully happy to reminisce on. Memories of a time when smiles were constant and days were whiled away in bed, lying lazily in each other's arms. Memories of a time that was long dead, no matter how much anyone wished it wasn't.

It didn't matter anymore that Y/N no longer spoke to any of Davey's friends. It didn't matter anymore that she had cut off all ties with the people who had become her friends, her family. It didn't matter, because they pretended it didn't. Race and Spot acted as though that hadn't been close to her at all. As if they hadn't become best friends with the girl who used to show up on their doorstep at ungodly hours seeking advice or simply because she was bored. Katherine put on a brave face, acted like she and Y/N hadn't spent countless nights pouring their hearts out to each other over movie marathons and makeovers. Jack tried to ignore the sudden lack of her presence in his and Davey's apartment, knowing better than to bring home any French vanilla coffee. All that mattered was that she was gone, and no one cared. No one gave a damn, nor did they still feel the pain of losing her. No one. Especially not Davey.

Except they did. They still passed by the coffee shop and peered in, even though they knew she wouldn't be there anymore. Race sometimes still left a key under the mat outside his and Spot's apartment as if she would be coming in. Spot still slept lightly, awaiting her knock on the door. Katherine still occasionally went to reach for the movie she had lent Y/N, the one she'd never been given back. Jack still half expected to walk into the kitchen in the morning to see Y/N making breakfast while dancing to music playing quietly from her phone. But while everyone else still found themselves missing her, searching for her, waiting for her, Davey took every precaution to keep the memories of her at bay.

He hadn't stepped a foot inside that coffee shop since they had broken up. He'd even deliberately taken routes that avoided having to pass it. He found a new favorite coffee and a new favorite song. He packed away all the things she had left behind and put them in a box that was tucked under his bed where no one ever cared to look. And yet, there was still an emptiness in chest. There was still a cold that chilled him to the bones each time he woke up alone after a night spent dreaming of the days when she had been at his side, always. There were still guilty nights during which he opened open the box - her box - and went through each thing. Nights when he read through all of her notes and let himself smile and laugh and cry. Nights when he held her sweater in her hands and tried to convince himself that she would come back for it and he'd see her again. Nights that ended in warm dreams and cold mornings.

Y/N L/N and Davey Jacobs had broken up, and Davey hadn't been the same since. When she had walked out the door with all that she could gather of her things at the time, she'd taken a piece of him with her. He hadn't realized just how big of a piece until he realized that she really wasn't coming back. When he realized that he had screwed things up and it was his fault she was gone.

Because it was his fault, and he knew it. But he hadn't told anyone else. All they knew was that one day Y/N had been there and the next she was gone, and Davey had pretended as if that was perfectly normal. As if the girl he was madly in love with hadn't just disappeared into thin air. And if they knew that Davey spent his nights crying over the loss of her, they didn't say anything. They adjusted as fast and as best as they could to her absence, if not for themselves then for Davey.

Davey, who relived every word of the last conversation they had ever had every single day. Davey, who had been quieter since she left. Davey, who got better at pretending to be okay once she was gone. Davey, who could still hear himself yelling a N's her screaming right back at him. Davey, who was haunted by the echo of the door slamming closed behind her. Davey, who was still in love with a girl he hadn't seen in over a year. Davey, who would probably always be in love with a girl he would most likely never see again.

There had been a day, a single day that held a single moment during which Davey had wished Y/N was dead. Because if she was dead, he could mourn her. He could miss her and cry over her and no one could ever tell him to stop. No one could ever tell him he was overreacting. If she was dead, he wouldn't have to worry that she was out there meeting someone else and falling in love with them instead. But he hated himself for having thought such a thing, pushing it out of his mind quickly.

Sometimes, he thought himself ridiculous. He couldn't even go back to the coffee shop without thinking of her (head tried only once before), and she didn't even work there anymore. She was still affecting him, even after all their time apart, and he wished he could hate it. But, instead, he was grateful for the constant reminders of her, no matter how sad they made him, because he never wanted to forget her. He didn't think he could, if he was being honest.

So he suffered in silence as the memories of them became bittersweet at best, her absence killing him slowly as each day passed without her return.

__________

Y/N has always been one for taking pictures. She wasn't sure when it had started, but she loved photographing moments that she wanted to preserve. it was rare that she was the subject of her photos, or anyone else's, as she herself was very camera shy. However, almost all of her friends had a folder filled with photos of them on her phone that she had taken when they hadn't known a camera was being pointed at them. She supposed she liked to remember what people were like in their truest moments.

She still had a folder for Davey. She still had a folder for Davey filled with more pictures than any other folder she had ever made. There was one for Race, and Spot, and Katherine, and Jack, too, but none of them had nearly as many as Davey's. Every so often, she still went into the folder and scrolled through, reliving their best moments. There so many pictures of Davey smiling, blissfully unaware that she was photographing him. There were pictures of them together, as well. Being in a picture with Davey had somehow demolished her dislike for having her picture taken. Some of her favorite photos were ones of him laughing freely, or even those rare times when he realized she had her camera out and he blushed heavily. If she scrolled through them long enough, studying each one carefully and trying to recall every detail of the moments it had been captured in, she could convince herself that Davey Jacobs would still be waiting for her when she got home. She could convince herself that if she walked up to the door of his apartment she wouldn't even have to knock.

Which, really, she wouldn't. Because she still had a key to his apartment on a necklace that she hadn't worn in a year. But she didn't dare go near his apartment, not after the way she had stormed out that night, leaving everything they had behind. Each day, she wished more and more that she could remember the things they had said. But in her head it was just a sad and angry blur filled with loud voices and slamming doors. She wish she knew whose fault it was, but she truthfully couldn't recall anything that they'd said. She could remember why, though. She could remember what had started the argument very clearly. She had started the argument - so maybe it was her fault. She didn't know. She wished she didn't care.

Occasionally, she'd allow herself the quiet days during which she reminisced. The days when she made herself a cup of French vanilla coffee, still an expert at brewing it despite how long it had been and watched the movie she had never given Katherine back, still able to recite each word. The days when she let herself read back through her text conversations with Race and Spot that she couldn't bring herself to delete because they made her laugh too much. The days when she cooked breakfast and listened to music, able to pretend as if Jack was behind her dancing goofily.

The days when, in her mind, at least, Davey was just at school, or maybe work. The days when she let herself believe that he would be walking through the door, ready for hugs and kisses and late night talks and everything they used to do. Davey Jacobs was a fantasy she couldn't really relive forever, but she'd be damned if she didn't try. Davey Jacobs was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and she had walked away from him.

She still curled up on only one half of her too-big bed, as if Davey would be lying down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple as they feel asleep. She still dreamed of him, almost every night. And she knew she was pathetic, but she couldn't help it.

She was living her dream, but it had been the life she had imagined for herself before she had met him. And now, after it all, not having him by her side didn't feel right. She would sit on the balcony of her flat and stare out at the city below her, letting the feeling of Paris fill her veins as the sight of the Eiffel Tower rattled her bones. But Paris - the city of love, the city of light, the city of her dreams - felt empty and cold. She was almost happy when she got on the plan back to New York after a year studying abroad in France.

She was better at hiding her pain and longing. She still joked and laughed and smiled as if nothing had happened at all. None of her friends knew why Davey had disappeared so suddenly, but they knew better than to question it. She had thought, in the beginning, that being in a different country than him would make it better, but she had been so horribly wrong. It had only made the longing worse.

Y/N L/N was still wholeheartedly in love with Davey Jacobs, no matter how many times she declared otherwise. She hadn't even laid an eye on anyone else since Davey. He was all she had ever wanted and needed, and her was gone. And disappearing with him was any trust she had once held in the idea of true love and soulmates. Because if finding your one true love, your soulmate, meant that you would get to be happy with them for the rest of your life, then somethin had gone terribly wrong in the cosmos. Her and Davey we're meant to be, anyone who had ever seen them together knew it.

And yet, they hadn't spoken in ages, and were likely to never speak again. If the universe wanted them to be together, it had a funny way of showing it.

David Jacobs and Y/N L/N were miserable without each other, but there was nothing they could do about. Fate or destiny or whatever the hell it was seemed to have plotted against them. Fate was cruel and heartless, and they a suffered because of it. And, sometimes, fate played tricks with the false promise of hope and new beginnings. Y/N and Davey both wished they hadn't mistaken the false promise for a real one.

__________

It was an autumn day much like the one they had first met, though admittedly later in October. It was a different coffee shop - one were waiters and waitresses actually came up to the table to take orders - and Davey was reading a novel, one of the rare times he had no more school work to do and got to read for pleasure. It was his senior year of college, and the professors were piling on work and life lessons they claimed would help in future careers. Davey appreciated the challenge, really, but at that point he was just ready to be a reporter. He'd been in a state of total relaxation, no thoughts of her in his head. He was blindsided by it.

"Can I sit here?" The words made his heart sting, skipping a few beats as he almost stopped breathing. In a split second he could hear voices whispering in the dark, laughing quietly and kissing between words. He looked up in surprise and she was smiling shyly, uncertain of herself. She glanced around before looking back at him, biting her lip nervously. He didn't know what to say, but his head started nodding yes before he could even think about it.

She pulled out the chair across from him timidly, lowering herself into the seat softly. Her fingers pulled the scarf around her neck loose, moving it to her lap, where she fiddled with it anxiously. She had a habit of needing something to do with her hands whenever she was particularly stressed. He had seen her do it whenever she had a test coming up or she was in a situation she wasn't comfortable with. It hurt to think she wasn't comfortable around him. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, Davey just watching Y/N as she avoided his gaze.

"How have you been?" He finally asked, clearing his throat. She seemed startled by the sound of his voice, frowning at the simplicity of the question. Davey knew that she hated small talk, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I've been good," she answered, granting him a small, gentle smile. He couldn't tell if she was lying. He almost hoped she was, selfishly wishing that she had been as distraught without him as he had been without her. "You?"

"I've been better," he responded honestly. He knew better than to lie to her - she'd always been able to tell when he was bluffing, no matter what it was about it. Her lips turned downwards slightly at his answer. He wondered if she wanted him unhappy like he did her, but he knew she was too kind for that. No matter how much he liked to pretend she would be selfish like him, he knew she would want him to be happy despite what had happened between them. He wondered, briefly, why she had come up to him at all. If the roles had been switched and he had seen her first, he would have walked right out, running away as fast as he could. "How was Paris?" He asked, trying to hide the slight bitterness in his voice. He expected a wistful smile like the one she used to wear whenever she talked about France, but he didn't get it. Instead, she seemed to recoil at the question for some reason.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she laughed slightly, but he could tell it was fake and, maybe, just a little bit pained. He suddenly felt awful for ever wishing unhappiness upon her. She deserved to be happy more than anyone he had ever met. Before he could come up with a response, a waiter came over with a bright smile on his face.

"What can I get the two of you?" He asked cheerfully. Y/N smiled at him, though Davey recognized it as the fake smile she used to use when dealing with customers.

"A hot chocolate and a French vanilla coffee, please," she ordered for both of them. Davey didn't bother correcting her, telling her he hadn't had French vanilla coffee since she'd left because he was pathetic and he couldn't handle thinking of her without breaking. He stayed quiet and let himself be a little bit angry when the waiter seemed to steal a glance at Y/N before he left. She didn't seem to notice or care, though, which satisfied him. "So, how's writing going?" She asked, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she leaned on the table and watched him intently. "You're still going to be a reporter, right?" He nodded yes, feeling a warmth replace the awkwardness that had been surrounding them.

"It's going great, actually," he grinned. "I know I'm going into journalism and all, but I've got this creative writing professor, and he's just great. I think it's my favorite class." She smiled and nodded as he spoke, clapping her hands together excitedly when he was done.

"That's great, Davey!" She exclaimed. He tried not to let his heart flutter too much at hearing her say his name. "Maybe you'll get to actually write a book one day, like we talked about."

"If I did, I'd probably need your help," he admitted. "You're the one who helped build the idea for that story, after all." She waved him off but didn't stop grinning.

"Well, I'd be happy to help if you ever wanted to really pursue it. Just give me a call anytime." They seemed to realize at the same time the weight of those words. When the waiter came back with their drinks, they were quiet again.

"Was Paris really that bad?" Davey eventually asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"No," she sighed. "It was beautiful, but I had a hard time enjoying it, I guess. Plus, you build something up in your head enough than it can never really compare to what you've imagined. You remember how Jack used to say that he preferred his imaginary Santa Fe to the real one?" Davey nodded in affirmation. "It was like that," she admitted, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. Davey reached for his own drink, letting the warmth of it slip down his throat. He'd forgotten how good French vanilla tasted. When Y/N set her drink down and went to pick up her napkin, she laughed. Davey furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as she did so, but she just kept giggling.

"Oh, God, you'll never believe it," she breathed. She held up the napkin so that Davey could read the phone number and name written on it. It seemed he had been correct earlier when he thought the waiter had been checking her out. Despite the jealously churning his stomach, he couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it. "Is this what it was like when I did this to you?" She wondered aloud. "I am so sorry," she giggled, not looking at all as if she meant it. Davey hoped she didn't.

"You were a little bit more creative with it," he assured her, earning a bright smile from her in return. He was almost positive that if she just kept smiling at him like that he'd be content for the rest of his life. But fate was fate and their was a sudden crack of thunder outside that made them both jump as they looked out the window and the rain started to come down. Davey swore it had been sunny just a minute ago.

"Oh, I should get going," Y/N spoke quietly, staring at the rain. Davey wondered if the sun and her leaving at the same time were related somehow. He was sure they were. "It was really nice talking to you, Davey," she smiled and looked at him with those eyes of hers that he had never stopped getting lost in. He looked into her eyes and he saw everything they had once had, and everything they could've been. He saw the days and nights they had spent together, and the years they could've stood side by side. He saw the life they could've built together, days upon days of happiness and love. He saw the sorrow and regret behind her smile and knew that she could see the pain on his face at having to match her walk away again.

But then they were just in a noisy coffee shop and it was raining and she was wrapping her scarf around her neck as Davey sat in his seat, immobilized by the sudden rush of memories and what-if's.

"Goodbye, David," she said, waving and she picked up her bag. He could tell, in that moment, that she was making up for the way she had left before. That this was her real goodbye, the one she never got the chance to say. That this was it.

"Bye, Y/N," he whispered. And just like that, she was gone and he was cursing himself for not remembering that fate was cruel, and it would never be so kind as to grant him  the one thing that could make him happy. Y/N L/N was gone again, and his French vanilla coffee had gone cold.

He pulled out his headphones and left a tip on the table, going into his music app as he walked outside. He hit shuffle before shoving his phone in his pocket to keep it from the rain. Slowly but surely, the soft melodies of La Vie En Rose began to fill his head. For the first time in over a year, he let the song play.

_________

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[vitos-ordination-song]

i look back on horror at who i was as a child a lot bc it was bad and i did bad things. but just now i felt kind of fond of little me and proud. bc i did survive and i was smart. 

i got sparked thinking about this bc i was thinking back to being really little. really little, potty training and earliest memories. i was so motivated to be perfect and actually i was good at getting approval. it’s sad bc thats what shaped the bad part of me. at this deep level i learned i did not want to be punished or disapproved of and so i tried to distance myself from my brothers who were punished and compared negatively to me. 

it’s weird bc for so long i felt shame about this. when i was in high school i apologized to my brothers in tears bc theyd often been resentful of me when we were young and i felt guilty for being the baby who got away with things while they were punished. from like age 2 to age maybe 10 i had a p bad superiority complex borne out of this and i just felt like a bad person for it for a long time. plus i didnt fully break out of the mindset til i let go of inferiority/superiority. 

i do see that i was just a child but thats kinda the part that feels like a horror movie. if i think of it being a child who was in situations i was and doing things i did, it feels horrifying. so most of my thinking back on being a kid are kinda disturbing. 

but im kinda getting back in touch w the part of myself i love for the past few years. and you know i survived for a reason. bc i love life and there are parts of me that are strong. what i was thinking about that started all of this was the kind of two-sided split nature of my childhood. what actual form did it take. 

i was absolutely obsessive about adult approval. to a degree that was v annoying to other kids but worked. i didnt necessarily SHOW that i was obsessed w it and i dont think i was even thinking consciously about it. a lot of my memories go in this vein. like i was good at memorizing bc that was asked of me. i could intense laser focus on things and memorize them. i remember frantically memorizing Bible verses at age 5 to win the Bible verse memorizing competition which the adults put on.

all of my strengths i had to be best in and all of my weaknesses were sources of shame i tried to improve on. i took very seriously morality as it was taught to me and made a great show of following it. i was often what you could consider teachers pet and basked in any positive reinforcement thrown my way. 

i was addicted to avoiding punishment and seeking reward. it was a response to my highly behaviorist, authoritarian upbringing. my emotional state in relationship with adults could vary wildly depending on how they treated me. i had a teacher in fourth grade who seemed to dislike and undermine me, like she wanted to break me, and i internalized my idea of her to help shape myself into someone who she would like. and it mostly worked. 

the intensity of my ability to do stuff like this cannot be understated. i learned to totally supress my sensory problems because they made adults annoyed with me and might lead to punishment (also i had to learn to deal with them alone because i had no help). i learned how to present a certain type of acceptable personality. 

i should note that i learned to do this first because of my parents. i learned later, but very young, that i had been easy to potty train. i was often praised both for being intelligent but especially for being “easy” and obidient. the perfect child. as compared to my brothers who wet the bed and had to be punished for it. ive thought for a while that the reason i was so obsessed with being perfect in school is that my mother homeschooled me and my brother for kintergarden. she screamed at him for being stupid. never me. 

being better was being safe. so i became this person who had to follow all the rules and be best at everything and i always wanted to be assured that i had earned love by my behavior. 

but the oddest thing about this is that i was a totally anti-authority, rebellious, and single-minded child. this is how the split in my personality manifested when i was little. any time i sensed any kind of unfairness i was livid. i undermined authority figures behind their backs with other kids. i got around rules however i could. 

the thing was, i think, even when i was very little, was that i knew it was arbitrary. the authority my parents wielded over me and my siblings was incomprehensible. i couldnt follow it. i just knew that they were in charge so they could do what they wanted. they were inconsistent in their punishments and rewards. sometimes they punished you for nothing and sometimes you got away with doing something actually bad. they weren’t fair. they just made it up as they went along. 

i wanted to do what i wanted to do and really i felt no attachment to their judgment on it--at least this side of me didnt. and it goes back just as far, maybe farther, than the feeling of superiority or desire for approval. i think that came more as i became afraid of punishment. 

i have very young memories of defying my parents authority. i just wanted to get away with it. and i almost always did. 

it’s funny because my entire family has always judged me for that but now i look back with some admiration. i mean i was obsessing with how to get away with things in my youngest memories, like age 3. all throughout my childhood i broke the rules to do what i wanted. 

when i was thinking earlier, what came to me was that i always acted to get approval so that i could get away with things and do what i really wanted to do. my main occupation as a child was reading. i was approved of for it. i read so much! i was such a smart little girl! and i could get away with spending all my time away from people in another world, the world of my books. i was quiet and out of the way so i was a good child. and that was one of the main sources of happiness in my childhood, reading, escaping, learning, being somewhere else. 

i waged a warfare against authority quietly. i learned to give them what they want and then do whatever i wanted when they looked away. i did it all the time. the side of me that wanted approval and the one that wanted freedom were somewhat dissociated so i didnt even fully realize i was doing it. 

i think what caused a lot of the change was falling from grace. in my own eyes, in my projected, perceived vision of God, and in the eyes of adults. it happened around age 10 and 11. i went from a very high to very low opinion of myself quickly. i think some of it was having a teacher who simply did not and would not like me, who wanted me to be smaller. she didnt like that i was disorganized and said i had terrible handwriting. she wasnt cruel but she wanted to destroy me for my own good. she constantly put me down and made me a subject of ridicule in class. 

i was also thinking more about Christian morality. the more i learned about God and heard about sin the more i felt i was a sinner. i felt bare and stripped naked, disgusting before God. 

i had humbling experience after humbling experience--internally as i reflected on my behavior and externally though rejection by peers, failure in school, and adult disapproval. it wasnt possible for me to feel approved of, perfect anymore. i could only be bad. 

i kept going further and further with this until i was reborn and rejected all of it. i stopped being Christian and rejected God’s authority. Christianity was the only worldview i had ever been allowed to imagine. once i stopped believing in it i was separate from every person around me. i could not, as a human being, have anyone’s approval. 

i wasnt the golden child at school or at home any more. i started getting in trouble in ways i never would have before because i was more defiant openly. a teacher took my kindle from me in 8th grade and i was punished for stealing it back. i had used to never talk back to my parents but i started to. i was angry. the dynamics in my family shifted and sometimes i was the scapegoat, sometimes i was the one being screamed at, punished, hit the most. me and my siblings played hot potato for it. golden child shifted around too. but i would never be the favorite again. by the time my parents went back to fawning on me, when i was a successful college student, i had no taste for it. 

starting around age 13. i had to become my own internal source of approval, authority, and being. i started to parent myself. i developed an internal parent who nurtured me and i sought out a lot of media about good and loving parents. i cried alone all the time but when i was calming down, i would stroke my own hair and talk to myself. i thought for myself and made up my mind about things. i had my own internal sense of morality that wasnt based on punishment and rewards. that made me a better person. before i had broken any rule with no guilt. i did not consider right and wrong of the action, only likelihood of punishment or reward. when i was giving myself approval, /i/ had to approve of my actions. 

idk ive just rambled a lot but i guess ive been thinking tonight about how ive reacted to environments and how ive changed myself as a person. i have these moments, shorter periods in my life, where something totally shifts in me. but that doesnt make long term effects just go away. i still worry about approval and punishment. i still punish and reward myself. these things are ground into me. inferiority/superiority too. but i saw through them and i have changed. 

[dearmadalice]

1-15 for Sen

Thank you for asking about Sen BC this is great opportunity for more detailed character building! 1. What do they smell like?COTTON CANDYActually kidding. Mmm.  Apricot?Something fruity or somewhat on the citrus side? Smells are really hard for me!

 2. What is their voice like?Very youthful and light.

 3. What is their biggest motivator?The death of her father and older brother. Her only goal in life is to avengethem in all honesty. As well, she wants to see her clan rise in esteem again.She just wants to keep things from falling apart around her.

 4. What is their most embarrassing memory?Wetting the bed because her older brother, Motoske, put her hand in a bucket ofwarm water. This actually happened several times. Or her brother making her laugh so hard she peed in front of people. Something along those lines. It’s all equally embarrassing.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?Somewhat sturdy, Sen tries to keep calm through the pain to minimize thediscomfort of those tending to her as well as her own. She knows not to messaround with injuries, and though she tries to joke through them to make herselffeel better, she doesn’t try to act tough or neglect her self care.

 6. What do they like to wear?Bright colors. Her kimono is designed as a sort of halter-neck with and openback. The haori is a light, gauzing material that affords a slim sort ofmodesty while still being fashionable. Not very practical in cooler climates

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them mostpositively?She was very close to her father and brother, who taught her to laugh and findjoy even in the most dire of situations and generally not to sweat the smallstuff. She wasn’t particularly close to anyone while the Ikeda clan was alliedwith Oda or Toyotomi, and really only started growing closer to people outsideher family after joining the Western Alliance against Toyotomi.Though Mitsunari tends to find her childish and bothersome, she respects hisresolve and sense of loyalty. She gets along swimmingly with Sakon, who shefinds to just be utterly delightful and fun. She gets into way, way moretrouble than he does but she’s glad to have someone to place games with and whodoesn’t seem to take himself too seriously.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?Dancing Squid Rice Bowl. She will eat anything once.

 9. Describe the way that they sleep.A very heavy sleeper. Prefers sleeping on her side curled up with something,which tends to lead to cramps. She does try to sleep with a lady but it doesn’twork. Moves around in her sleep a lot. Would kick/smack you in the face if youshared a bed with her.

 10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?Sea food. Octopus and squid are her favorites. Also really likes festival foodbecause it’s “fun.”

 11. What do they feel most insecure about? Her own strength. She’s fought in battles before but still feels she’s lackingraw power to make any sort of big difference in the world. She really looks upto other people in the Western Forces and tries to learn from them, but fearsthat stuff doesn’t stick like it’s supposed to. She wants to be stronger sothat when she comes face to face with Ieyasu and Naotora she’ll be able to makean impact in their battle.

 12. How do they like to dress?Very fashion conscious, tries to coordinate colors that go well with her hair.As such she avoids reds and pinks to avoid looking to monochromatic. Doesn’tparticularly like dark colors. She also doesn’t mind dressing in something “strange”for the sake of at least trying something different.

 13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?Sen generally has a personality where she smiles through things, but through herwords better conveys what she’s thinking. So when she felt guilty aboutsomething, she’d pretty much say it outright. From there, it’s sort of up tothe other party to react the way they want to. If they want Sen to act acertain way in order to earn their forgiveness, she will. She’d only feelguilty for slighting people she looks up to or actually likes. If she didsomething jerkish to say, Kanbei, she wouldn’t feel guilty about it. Also, if she can’t make up for slighting someone she carries the guilt with her for a very long time. For example, she couldn’t really save her family from what happened, but she still feels as though if she had done things differently the outcome would have been different. There’s nothing she can do about it now, really, so it’s a burden she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life.

 14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?Not well. She’d definitely hold serious grudges when she’s slighted, and ofcourse the next time she ran across the person would demand compensation. Ifthe betrayal is serious enough, it would end with a physical confrontation and proclamationsof war. If the slight is minor, she might just demand a service (indenturedservitude, anyone?) or just money. If that doesn’t work, violence is always theanswer. As well, she can’t forgive people for it easily and once she dislikes someone, she refuses to ever see any good in them.

15. What is their greatest achievement?Wow. Shit. That is a hard one. Buddy.I dunno, being accepted into the Western Forces?? The Ikeda were already alliedwith Toyotomi, so it’s not a huge leap. So I guess maybe more specifically,earning praise from Yoshitsugu or Mitsunari for excellent service?If she can make Mitsunari smile though. Maybe even chuckle she’d say that’s her greatest accomplishment. But I reallycan’t see that actually happening.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

TF2 Headcanon - Demo/Spy & Sniper/Scout

Requested by @camiluna27, re: an ask they got about Demo being handsome and the best kisser, bc I was too lazy to make a fic. Written in Chat, so continuity’s a crapshoot.

-Title: Constellation Consternation-

[Alternate title I was too busy laughing at to use: Speaking in Tongues] . . . .

The basic headcanon is that Spy KNOWS he's amazing, but maybe certain teammembers have all mentioned that Demo is The Best at kissing, and a handful of other things (and he's most concerned about Scout knowing that, bu the runner is really just yanking his chain and parroting what Sniper told him about the explosives expert).

Fed-up, Spy goes to confront the guy over this whole seducing his son and the rest of the team, nonsense. Openly outraged at such impropriety in their ranks. Demo listens, nodding along to each complaint and french curse with a deadpan expression, trying not to smile at the idea he'd stolen poor little Scout's innocence and Spy was (in the most roundabout way possible) trying to defend his son's honour.

But really, he knew what this was about.

When Spy finally stops talking, he tilts his head, grins and says, "So ye're jealous I hadnae gotten around to ye faster, is that it?"

And Spy reels for a moment before stuttering out something most likely blistering in French, and glaring.

"I'll take that as a yes, then, laddie?" Demo leans back in his chair a long moment, sincerely trying not to laugh at the whole scenario, then stands up. "Well, you know ye could have just asked, right?"

"I would never degrade myself to do such a thing," Spy snarls back, suddenly questioning why he even came.

"The asking, the kissing, or the fact you're seething with jealousy that I got to ye last, Spook?" Demo responds, backing the other into a verbal corner.

Spy's expression hardens as he tries to find a verbal retort; though the temptation to flip  the bird at the Scot and cloak was incredibly tempting. The worst part was he got the impression that the man was right... and that would sincerely mean he'd lost control of himself and his sanity.

He was the one who did the seducing, had people unconsciously adoring him, wondering what it would be like if he was to-... and he'd leave it open to interpretation. It was also a challenge, and he disliked someone claiming to be more skillful than himself.

Indeed, there may be some other personal motivations, but still... Spy must be the best. Ironically, he was the one who nearly jumped out of his skin when Demo suddenly appeared closer than before, placing a hand to his shoulder. Spy must have gotten lost in thought, been quiet for far too long for the other to think of invading his personal space so significantly.

"I know I'm a lot to take in, lad, but do ye want a drink to help you get over the shock of wanting tae kiss a Scotsman?" Demo offers, half-jesting, but still holding a bottle of Scrumpy in his free hand.

Spy actually snaps out of his pensive stupor to laugh at that; unfortunately, it just so happened to be the ugly laugh he tried to bury all those years, much to his horror. "Oh, mon amie, I do not think that will be necessary... but the offer is appreciated." he finally says, switching on the suave tone he usually uses, as if that will erase all the deplorable lack of decorum from before(um).

"Alright then lad..." Demo beams, sliding the hand on Spy's shoulder up to caress the man's masked cheek. "How about we skip right to the fun part and compare abilities, aye?"

Spy's lips quirked up in amusement, before snaking a hand around to the other man's nape, guiding them closer together. "Oh oui, I can give you a few pointers..."

- - -

Sniper, on the other hand, had not exactly been lying about how great Demo just so happened to be at kissing, and quite a few other things. Which had a tendency to put his boyfriend on edge, seeing as Scout wasn't going to admit it, but he was pretty insecure about a lot of things and therefore was twice as loud and flashy to cover over it.

When the mercs had originally banded together, it'd downright pissed Sniper off; not to even mention the others, who were less laid back, overall. But it didn't take the world's most skilled psychologist to work out the reason.

To be fair, Sniper had definitely messed around with a few of the others over the years... but Scout had been hung up on Miss Pauling, so he'd seemed off limits for casual fun. Not to mention, like the other mercs, they saw Scout as kind of this brash, bignoting brat when he arrived... and even daring to glance at physique made them feel old, mortal and vaguely guilty.

Perhaps it was the fact he came off as emotionally immature, a child at heart... and 'at behaviour' if that was a thing. Medic had clearly tried to make it so, in his documentation of the matter.

But since he'd settled into the team, the  kid had... dunno, grown up a little? Sniper couldn't think of a more delicate way to say it, really. Didn't change who Scout was at heart, 'cause he was this great big ball of energy and enthusiasm and sometimes bad ideas like whether he could do a backflip off the base roof and land safely (he couldn't), but he did have a slightly more mature outlook on things. It was in the way he thought before he spoke, unless riled up; how he tended to act more strategically than before, worked with the team instead of racing ahead and dying a thousand times to get to the intel or capture a point.

Sniper could appreciate the change, and so did many of the others. However, Sniper was the one that Scout attached to most strongly from day one for some reason... and that'd been fine.

At first he'd been under the assumption that the kid either needed a quiet person to vent to, or just some sort of pseudo father figure... But then he realised that Engie was clearly playing 'Pa' with the kid (and Pyro), and if the runner wanted to speak to someone who wouldn't respond, he could have talked with any of the others. Sniper was the one person who actively listened when Scout talked, and responded; the others were... well, busy, and often commented they did not have time.

But the longer you work with someone, especially as closely as RED did, the more you knew them. Their eccentricities and insecurities; strengths and flaws.

Scout was personally offended that Sniper had vegemite on his toast of a morning; specially shipped in by Mann Co. as an 'essential supply' for the aussie. And Sniper was often infuriated to find Scout had left stuff all over the base, in a subconscious effort to remind them all he still existed.

But all that downtime moved them from teammates to friends, to... whatever this was. Not quite lovers yet, there were a few hangups. Mostly Scout over-analyzing the whole thing and wondering if he'd ever liked Miss Pauling at all, or he'd led her on...

Sniper had made Spy explain the very concept of bisexual to the stressed out runner, so he'd stop agonising over the whole 'attraction to both' thing. To be fair, he's pretty sure the topic had just never come up in Boston... after all, the runner's third-eldest sibling had a boyfriend, and the family was totally fine with it. He was tying himself in knots for no reason.

But then, Sniper could relate. He used to overthink things to the point of near paralysis, when he was younger; sometimes even now, if he was too stressed out or they'd had a really bad match. The rest of the team would just designate someone to go out and stargaze with him, until it wore off; usually Scout, but Demo did it frequently too.

Because that was how his Mum had managed to snap him out of it. They'd go outside, stare up at the stars, and she'd point out constellations and celestial stories until all the constricting thoughts just ebbed away.

And after the first few times on base, it just became normal practice for a stressed-out merc to come out to the Camper at night, say nothing, and have Sniper usher them to the roof ladder. He'd tell them stories, point out constellations, even ones they'd done a thousand times before... because it was soothing. The main issue was getting everyone off the roof, when (usually the stressed out party) conked out from emotional exhaustion.

Sniper now had a box up there, bolted on so it didn't fall off whilst driving, full of blankets an stuff. Made the whole thing a little less stressful.

Just had to get up before morning, though, or you got a wicked sunburn. Engie was working on some sort of automatic sunshade rig to shield any late-night worriers when the sun rose; but it was still in progress for now.

Still, it was his favourite thing to do with the runner. Especially when it was just the two of them there because they wanted to be... no stress between them. It felt... right, had for a long time.

The insecurities were a hang-up though. Sniper had realised things had changed when Scout slowly, painfully slowly, took his hand, a few months back while staring up at the stars. Could feel how tense the runner was, like he was going to bolt if Sniper even breathed wrong. To be honest, it'd been a bit since someone had wanted to hold his hand, high school maybe?

Still, it was a thrill of unexpected warmth, intimacy. And he slowly, just as painfully slowly, gave the bandaged hand a reassuring squeeze; hearing the runner exhale in relief and just about deflate beside him. They'd woken up leaning against one another, and sunburnt as a crisp; Medic had found it HILARIOUS as he treated them.

Sniper never should have brought up the Demo thing. He'd only been joking with the others about it, one night when everyone was a bit drunk, a bit less guarded about the things they said.

He thinks that was the night Demo finally managed to seduce the stoically insular Heavy/Medic duo... but he can never be sure. Not that switching it up between the mercs was inherently wrong, or even seen as promiscuous... they'd been here years, relationships formed and fell apart 'secretly', and flings happened. The only real issue was if someone from BLU was making eyes at a RED; and vice versa. That had to be dealt with before the Admin found out. But as far as they knew a few people had gone out of their way to subvert the no-interaction clause in their contracts... just because they could, and also... predominantly because it was thrilling.

Sniper was incredibly aware of what the Scouts had done, and he's pretty sure the other Sniper was too. Scopes, and all. But was the battlefield really a good place for that sort of thing? Scout still hadn't admitted making out with the other runner, and neither had the BLU to his team. Sniper really wanted to ask why, but he's pretty sure it's the same reason he saw Spy seducing the BLU Sniper in July last year at Vanguard...

...because they could.

What else was there to do around here... but each other? That is to say, breaking rules was fun.

But even with all that daring action out there, most agreed that Demo was the best at what he did. And he's pretty sure Scout was developing as much of a complex about it as his father...

Sniper really should have checked if the runner was there before joking about it with Engie. Now he couldn't even get the lanky bloke to hold hands, it was pretty frustrating.

He'd told Demo, on a night when the explosives expert had come to visit him at the camper to stargaze, with an obscene amount of booze; the logic behind it being there were twice as many constellations if you were drunk enough. The Scot had laughed, thought about it, and asked if he should try to woo 'the loud lad' to fix it. Even though it was in jest, Sniper had gotten defensive over it, and turned it down.

"I was kidding lad..." Demo had reassured. "For one, I think maybe Spy has taken a fancy to me but he dinnae know it yet, and it'd be weird to mention I'd Frenched his son... or, well, half-Frenched, his mother's American, aye?"

Sniper burst out laughing at the statement, and Demo took the opportunity to sneak away the fourth bottle of beer, deeming the Aussie a tad too drunk to climb down from the roof safely as it stood.

"What I meant was... if you and the others are always talking up my abilities, to other blokes who have a lot of experience with other lasses and lads and a few inbetween... then how would it make ye feel if you had none of it?" Demo questioned, sobering the conversation for a bit. He grinned, "Oh aye, I know about the Scout Class' attempt at snogging on the battlefield the other day, caught 'em by accident as I jumped past. But that isnae more or less experience than high school fumbling about when ye think your parents aren't watching. And to have to follow someone like me, well, I don't think he's comfortable with the idea... not yet, at least."

"Huh..." was all Sniper managed, suddenly realising a few things. He scratches the stubble on his chin, pensive. "So what should I do about it?"

"Oh that's easy... just tell the lad everyone's a bit shithouse when they first start out, and it's like those video games he likes... you've gotta learn how through experience to, uh, level up." Demo grins, nudging Sniper with his elbow in camaraderie, before immediately grabbing the sharpshooter so he wouldn't topple over from the impetus. No sense of balance when he's drunk, Sniper.

"Thanks mate."

"Aye, no problem. Now, did I tell you about what I managed to do to that bloody BLU Spy today? Well, everytime  Engie left spawn the bastard would..."

The tale echoed out into the night as the two men exchanged light-hearted stories of the more hilarious murders and deaths they'd experienced during that day's battle.

-

Of course it was on top of the van, when it happened. Most things of importance tended to happen there...

After a long fortnight of no contact whatsoever, Scout was suddenly on his roof, snuggled in a blanket and staring up. Sniper saw it was his chance to talk things over with him, and climbed up slowly. Remaining in sight the entire trip.

"Hey..." Scout mumbles, not looking at him.

"G'day," Sniper returns, he doesn't like saying it much because it's a stereotype, but Scout always seemed to like it. "Nice night. Mind if I sit?"

"S'your van, Snipes..." Scout's still distant, mentally if not physically, Sniper realises.

He sits beside the runner.

"Look, you might know a few of the other guys... have spent time together in the last few years. Not all of them were flings, but they weren't long enough for any of us to start getting anniversary gifts over. And yeah, I might have had a thing with Demo a few times... and some of the others... but it doesn't mean I have any expectations from you."

Scout's eyes widened, and Sniper realised he needed to rephrase that statement.

"Calm down, bilby, I mean... everyone's different. Some people have a lot of experience in some areas, and others don't... but everyone starts off at zero, right? I mean, were you born playing baseball? Nah, you learned how, and you got better. Probably fucked up a few times, hit the ball the wrong way, fell on your arse, knocked over the wickets, got distracted running towards the goal before you could get a touchpoint-... what?" Sniper pauses.

Scout's laughing pretty hard. "Y-you don't know how baseball wo-works do ya, Snipes?" He's just about in tears at this point, pink-cheeked and gasping for air between gales of laughter. He's never looked more adorable.

Sniper lets out a slight huff of amusement. "I know how to Sports, Scout. There's a ball, and running, sometimes sticks and you score a touchpoint if you get the wicket in the goal or something..." he says, getting it more wrong with every word just to see Scout continue laughing like that. Carefree and relaxed.

"Oh my god, I can't-... Snipes... oh my god... I am teaching you baseball next time we get a weekend free... 'touchpoint'." Scout was in hysterics, leaning against Sniper as he tried to catch his breath. Every now and again he'd wheeze 'touchpoint' to himself, and start laughing all over again.

It took a while for the runner to calm down. He wipes his eyes on bandaged hands, an errant wheezy giggle escaping now and then, but finally relaxes against Sniper. Who can't resist any longer and pecks him on the forehead. To which, the runner squirms and complains like a little kid.

"Aw man, Sniiiiiiiiiiipes, Ma used to do that in front of all my freakin' friends... you have no idea how much I never heard the end of it..." Scout whines, turning to look at the Aussie. The bandaged hand closest grabs hold of Sniper's own, and the grip is rock-solid, like the smiling runner is making a decision.

"I uh, I ain't as good as Demo... probably shit at it really, but would you mind if we, uh... fuck, I had a whole thing for this but now all I can think about it 'touchpoint'..." Scout nearly chokes suppressing a laugh at the word again.

He really was pretty fucking adorable when he was like this, Sniper grinned. "You don't need to ask, Scout, it's fine... 'course we can." He assures, and moves in closer, watching for any signs that they were about to have a loony-tunes moment... where he'd lean in to give the runner a kiss and find nothing but a Scout-shaped cloud of smoke. Wouldn't past the speedy merc.

But no, Scout's still there when their lips meets. He seems to have some idea how it all works, which is a surprise, but Sniper tries to lead things in a direction that will circumvent clashing teeth.  A hazard of excited teenage make-outs...

It was pretty good, all things considered, and he could see that realisation dawning all over Scout's face. Slightly flushed, a little chocked, and grinning as they pulled away.

"See? You're pretty good at it... just need a bit more practice and you'll be right as rain." Sniper says, putting an arm around the runner's shoulders and delighting in the way Scout leaned back against him.

There was a lengthy silence, which was starting to concern the sharpshooter, before Scout spoke up.

"...I dunno, Snipes, it wasn't that great..." he pauses, just long enough for Sniper to become slightly alarmed and a tiny bit offended, before continuing. "Think we might need a loooot of practice..."

The aussie sharpshooter chuckles, kisses the smartass on the forehead just to watch him squirm away laughing, and says, "Much as you want, mate."

-

Spy left Demo's room the next morning, striving desperately for immaculate attire despite the evidence of rumpling. He straightened his tie as Engineer and Medic came around the corner, talking animatedly, only to pause and look at the espionage agent with expressions of incredulity.

They looked at him, his attire, the class symbol on the door behind him, and then back to Spy, with growing grins of amusement.

Spy snorts derisively. "If you think I look  sufficiently dishevelled, you should see the other guy..." and walks off, not even bothering to cloak. Pleased to have won, if not the kissing segment of their little game, then the other various challenges instead.

-

When the pair finally do come face-to-face with one another again, that day, everyone in the room is suddenly Very Busy and Definitely Not Listening.

"Lad, ye've one-upped me in some areas and that was a surprise... but I'm pretty sure I still hold the title for best kisser on base..." Demo announces, grinning.

Spy closes the book he had been reading, carefully placing it down on the sofa before standing up to look Demo right in the eye. "Oh, you still cling to that notion, do you?"

"I won, ask any of the others, I'm good at what I do, Spook..." goads the explosives expert, making a sweeping gesture at the few other mercs gathered in the common room.

"Truly?" Spy says, appearance utterly nonchalant. And then the man smiles almost predatorially, and Demo knows he has him.

"Round Two, then?" Demo queries.

"Oui... but let us have dinner together first, like civilised people." Spy responds, heading for the kitchen.

It takes the other man a moment to catch up, and it hits him like a lightning bolt. The last the other mercs saw of Demo that night was the man racing out of the room, after Spy, yelling, "Did ye just ask me on a date, Spook?"

To which the answer was a slightly distance-muffled "Oui."

- - -

The End

- - -

Random Extra:

When Scout and Sniper finally came inside half an hour later, no one would look them directly in the eye or explain where the missing mercs were.

Sniper elbows the runner in the side genially. "Look at it on the bright side, bilby... you might end up with two dads outta this."

It took Scout an hour to stop screaming.

[myheartisbro-ken]

Wow. Your answer to that ask was amazing. 😊💙🌷 you for teaching me so journalism lingo! I definitely agree with you that there's an imbalance this season with Kara Danvers 👓 (so her as a civilian) and Supergirl. I feel like we've seen more of Maggie doing her the job than Kara, which is kind of sad. I know Supergirl is also her passion/duty, but I miss reporter! Kara or seeing her do more normal things. Anyway, great insight. Hmm, I would love to fight Merlin because I'm currently-- 💙(pt 1)

–watching Merlin from the start and my dislike of him is prominent. *Sighs* Morgana deserved so much better. He has magic though…So idk if I’d survive that. It’d probably be easiest to end the rich, pretentious, outdated Frointer guy. I’ll go with him to live, but would prefer Merlin. Um, what kind of pizza do you like? I make homemade pizza (the crust too) sometimes. I prefer to bake. Do you ship Lucy with Mina? I don’t and think Mina was too harsh to her, so I won’t ship it. –(Pt 2/3)💙🐢

Lucy Westenra deserved so much better. This also applies to Mina in my opinion, which is likely the minority. I still respect those who ship them ofcourse…I just don’t. I miss Lena Luthor. Oh, I’m going to go watch 2.17 bc I haven’t yet; it’s still int he recorder thingy. I hope you have a resplendent day/night. 💙🌷😊 (I feel like a monster leaving unused characters…Hmm. Here’s a riddle: What creature walks on 4 legs in the morning , 2 in the afternoon, and 3 in the evening?). 🐱 (Pt 3/3)

Hi! I saw your message a while ago, but I was getting home and my grandmother was watching this reality show (Big Brother Brazil), where this guy had been emotionally abusing his show girlfriend, and today they kicked him out, after a judge’s verdict. I’m still very shaken from the situation and the girl’s reaction, and it made me think of what’s happening on Supergirl rn. I was not looking for an association or anything, but it was impossible not to. The difference here being in one it was real life happening and in Supergirl they chose to write that. The guy was cute sometimes (apparently, some people even ‘shipped’ them) he hugged and kissed her and kissed her feet and everything and told her he’d always take care of her, but they fought all the time, he was very aggressive with everyone, mostly his girlfriend, he humiliated her, he guilt-tripped her, he diminished her feelings. Honestly, everything I saw about these two could be a direct parallel to so many scenes in supergirl including the girl’s reaction to him leaving. That was the most heartbreaking of all; when told she was being abused and they had to take him away from the show, the girl cried, said it shouldn’t be happening, he didn’t mean to hurt her, he was just stressed. She blamed herself, said that this was only happening because of her, because he was there so she wasn’t left alone, and if he hadn’t stayed because of her nothing of this would be happening to him. She said that she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to jeopardize him, and that she told herself she would just let him do anything he wanted without saying anything because she didn’t want to fight anymore. I watched a clip of one of their fights, which was the one that caused the justice/law to be involved, and it’s absolutely terrifying, he didn’t let her break up with him, she called him out on his actions and he talked over at her, didn’t let her talk, he yelled in her face, he backed her into a corner with his finger in her face pressing her against the wall whilst yelling with his face touching hers. But even if I hadn’t seen the video, just the girl’s reaction to him being sent away and them saying it was because of how he was treating her, just that was enough to see how much he fucked this poor girls mind. She felt for him, she was concerned about what was going to happen to him, and that he was going to blame her for pressing charges (which she didn’t), she felt guilty for him being punished because she felt like she put him in that position…

I’m not saying I wasn’t concerned about this direction of the show before, or that you can only feel sympathy after experiencing things in some way or another. But I’m just really really shaken about this, seeing all of this made me even more scared for what they are doing on Supergirl.

One thing that really struck me was another girl on the rs, who said that we get mad when we see this happening to others but we let things happen to us because we’re so used to taking in our own shit that we don’t even notice when something big is happening to us. This poor young girl got so used to taking in the shit he had been throwing her, so used to the things he did to her and she liked him so much, that she hasn’t accepted that it happened to her, even with the bruises and everyone telling her, the show’s host telling her, she still didn’t believe or accept that she was a victim, that he was wrong, she continued to excuse him because ‘it wasn’t his fault, he was angry and stressed, he wasn’t going to really hurt me’.

I’m sorry, I needed to let this out (that’s not even half of it, but oh well). I was done talking about Supergirl’s fuck ups, but this just got to me (and honestly, it should have affected everyone who watched it, people excusing him or making jokes about this situation or even saying this is all a scene and she’ll win the show and the money and then all will be okay and she won’t even be sad [my stepfather actually said this], those people are disgusting)

On a lighter note, I will answer you know. Sorry for the rant.

Merlin is a douche and Morgana deserved better. I don’t even care if I’d win, I just want to fight him. Rich pretentious dudes scare me, I went to private school, rich boys terrify me to no end, like major anxiety attack at seeing one of my old classmates in my uni, so I wouldn’t be able to fight the frontier guy, I think, I haven’t seen it yet, only the first episode, so maybe my answer will change.

I like all types of pizza, all of them. PIZZA! But I don’t like red meat, onions, mushrooms, peas, corn or garlic. My favorite is chicken as plain as it is, but I’ll try a lot of things too. And I sometimes eat the crust but not when I’m in a restaurant because it’s just smarter to not eat the crust so you can try more flavors.  🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 🍕 I’ve always wanted to make pizza, I like baking and cooking, so I really want to try it, it’s so cool that you do it.

I did not ship Lucy and Mina, I think Mina was too unfair and harsh to Lucy and her reaction was really gross (in my opinion) and it made me very very angry, including the Jonathan situation later on (in which she blamed Lucy, the victim) and telling it to Alexander, and then his reaction was really really disgusting and made me so angry for a very long time, so much that his words still stay with me “ If you insist on acting like a monster, I’m going to make you one.” One could interpret here that being a lesbian, being manipulated and being treated like shit by a jealous and angry man (who was very aggressive on top of that) is ‘acting like a monster’, because that’s what happened to her and she felt ashamed and she tried to talk to Mina and Mina didn’t let her and told her to leave. In this situation Mina was horrible; though in others she was also mistreated, so she also did deserve better, better than Johnathan and better than ‘her soulmate’ the stalker, Alexander. But I can totally see why people ship them, I did too, but the reactions were too harsh for me to look past for a ship.

2x17 was terrible and I’m only still watching this because of Lena, otherwise, I would have already lost all the interest in this that was my favorite show.

I had a very crazy day, and I would totally talk about it if this wasn’t already huge, so I’ll just say I had a boring seminar and a huge convo/discussion about How I Met Your Mother, it was awesome. 

Now for the riddle, it’s a person. In the morning = baby, ‘walks’ on four legs; in the afternoon = child/teen/adult, walks on two legs; and in the evening = old age, adds a cane. 😁😎

Hope you have a stupendous day/night 💚🌼😊

[u-f-o-no]

it's 1:30am. I'm tired I guess but not tired enough to really sleep. I meant to go eat something a couple hours ago but I haven't felt like it since my dad crumpled up my dinner and threw it off the porch because he was mad at me. I'm really lonely I guess but I also hate everyone right now so I don't know what that means or what to do. I was trying to get over a dislike of someone but then today i got back a peer review by them and all of the comments were the things I hate about myself. I don't feel like living anymore and I don't think there's anything anyone can do about it. I miss Sam. I hope he's doing okay in the hospital or w/e. I wish I could be with him. It'd probably be good for me. Today I was talking to Emily and everyone else in class heard me but her bc she never listens to me and she was probably texting Rachel. I don't know why I'm not good enough for these people?? They're not good enough for me so why the hell am I not good enough for them? I'm so tired and sad. I doubt my depression is a chemical imbalance anymore. I think my life just sucks ass. Which makes me feel ungrateful bc I'm not dying of typhoid fever or malaria or w/e. The comments he put weren't even like bad things you just don't understand what I was thinking you don't fucking know what it's like to be me. I have so many thoughts all the time and you may not have had an original thought in your life. He still gets into better colleges than me. People like him. He's not fucking depressed or dysphoric or a coward. He didn't drop out of ap physics. I should have taken a shower. I don't even know what I did today. I have no clue. I really should go to the hospital but I'm so scared of missing school and not graduating because I know I'm not going to kill myself because I'm scared which will make things worse. I have flashbacks to unsettling surreal dreams all the time now. It knocks me off my feet for a moment but I'm good at not letting it show so no one knows. I don't want to dream anymore. Some of them are cool but mostly they're bad. I downloaded a dream journal app but I've only made one entry because my dreams are so weird and multiplanar that I can't write them or even really describe them. I should have therapy twice a week at least but I feel bad because they're paying so much money. The only way for me to get real honest to God attention for my illness is to make an attempt on my life. I'd love to personally but I hate pain. I have enough of it as it is. I'm so guilty what the fuck. I don't have anything to be guilty about but I am anyway so I'm angry All the Time. No one cares enough to tell me it's not my fault and even if they did would I believe them? I don't even know what It is at this point but it's my fault. That doesn't even make sense why do I feel like this???! because I'm not going to kill myself I feel like I shouldn't be hospitalized and I'm guilty about faking being as bad as Sam or something like that. All my dad ever does is tell me I'm hurting him even though he's hurt me for years. Whenever he asks me what he's done wrong I forget everything like when someone asks you your favorite book and you suddenly forget everything you've ever read. That makes me feel guilty because I can't find anything bad that he's done and so I internalize his words and I have a little voice now that's his voice that screams Your Fault! every second of the day. I want it to stop. I want them to stop yelling at me. When I say this it sounds like I'm some kid who thinks being psychotic is cool and is like "yeah I hear voices" and that makes me feel guilty. idk tho bc I don't like think they're hidden spirits or anything i know they're coming from somewhere inside me but I didn't choose them so? I just want to fucking know what it feels like to be supported. No one person knows both the depth of my mental illness and the lengths of my identity. I allot different tidbits to different friends so that I never have anyone know me fully. I feel so guilty about being trans. Like I'm crazy or losing my mind or that it's just another mental illness I have. But I know it would be worse if I told people because they would think it's a mental illness. My mom would say "gender confused" and I would cry because that's how I felt my whole life until I realized I was this way. My dad would never look at me the same again and pray for me to go back and still tell me he loves me more than all the stars in the sky. And that would really fuck me up because for years all I've been shown is hate in the name of love and it's fundamentally broken me as a functioning human being. I can't stand physical contact because I'm so nervous. I'm so scared I'm going to mess it up and they're going to hate me. The other day my dad moved really quickly and I went into shock because I thought he was going to hit me. He continued like nothing happened but I thought I was going to cry. I was just in the car on the way to church. I rip whole tufts of my hair out now. We're almost at the two year anniversary of me asking to get my hair cut. It took a lot of courage to ask which shows that i really wanted it. I was shut down so quickly and with such contempt I've been scared to share anything about myself ever since. If he wouldn't let me style the dead protein strands on my head the way I want, no way was he going to be accepting of anything in my life besides what he wanted. I hate myself so fully now it's incredible. I used to be the most confident kid in class and now I just radiate self loathing underneath my suave exterior. And by suave like, doesn't have it together but is cool with that. I don't know. I guess I just wish people could see all this about me, but also I don't because I'm already so vulnerable this would make me ashamed and easily exploitable. Shame and guilt are things I should not be feeling and I know it. I'm so angry that the people in my life have driven me to this kind of state. But nevertheless I can't get past it. I'm just a scared kid. In fact, while many are fantasizing about getting old or married or what have you I'm fantasizing about getting to relive my childhood as my "new" or "preferred" or whatever the fuck You want to call it gender. I dream of being adopted by two nice men who love each other and teach me how to love. They are always supportive of me no matter what and comfort me when I need it. What's really fucked up is sometimes this is the only thing that gets me through the day. It's exactly like mr robot. Elliot creates a mental image of his dead father to comfort him because his body cannot handle the loneliness. It's 2am now. I guess I've vented a lot. I can't seem to make myself do anything. I'm in a rut. And I felt good on Sunday. That makes me feel like a fake too. Like I'm just being dramatic about school but I'm fine all other times. Which still isn't true but these things haunt me. No matter how many times I hear "you're valid uwu" I'm still going to hate myself and I'm still going to question. Crazy thing is I'll probably still go to school tomorrow. I'll sit in band class and stare blankly at the other wall dreaming about what my haircut might look like, or things that I'll wear when I look more like a boy. I'll smile at people around me and make sassy comments. I'll pay attention to all the crazy things nick says and think about playing trombone. Alyssa will laugh at something I say. I'll try to make eye contact with Emily when something happens even though I'm mad at her and she hates me. She won't notice and I'll feel stupid and unloved. Mr flood might give me a compliment if I do something well and it'll be the highlight of my day. He'll make a funny joke or say something odd and Alyssa will laugh again and I'll smile fondly. My heart is filled with such love it's absolutely horrible that anything like this has been allowed to happen. On the underneath of the rotting cool girl is a little boy who just wants to be held. Sometimes I call mr flood dad when he's out of earshot. I do that for mr Higdon occasionally too. They smile at me so bright and tell me I'm wonderful and delightful and compliment me on silly things that somehow make my day better even though I don't really care about them. I have dreams where I'm maybe three feet tall with fluffy blonde hair and I'm sort of hunched over trying to be small and unnoticeable and I'm crying and the tears are running down my face but I'm only sniffling, because I taught myself not to cry loudly a long time ago. I rub my eyes with my little child's hands and look up hesitantly to where I see a man standing, bending over slightly to talk to me. he looks sad but understanding and opens up his arms. I'm not sure if I'll go but then I think about being held above the ground away from my problems and I just run straight for them. As I land, I am lifted it up into a string, warm embrace. I feel safe for the first time I can remember. My arm is around his neck and one clings to his back. I bury my face between his shoulder and neck into the soft fabric there. And then I cry. I cry for a long time as the man plants gentle kisses in my hair and whispers soft unintelligible things. He rubs my back carefully and I feel myself relax. There is no tension in my childlike body. Bliss. My wildest dream is to have a loving father like that. Which makes me slightly sick. I understand Harry Potter visiting the mirror of erised so often now. Those desires are truly powerful, and those who already have strong relationships may avoid its allure easier. It's almost 2:30 I think my dad came home but that doesn't sound right. I never know when he's leaving. I'm scared just sitting here. I'm afraid he'll come in I'm afraid of the rodents in the ceiling falling on me and I'm afraid of the endlessness represented by the passing train. This whole existence feels like a cycle I can't break. Every day is blurred together. Every moment. I don't even know now if I've already written this. I do know I hate the noises of the nighttime. It is a time when we are more keenly aware of our aloneness and of all the tiny noises that lurk behind every day bustle. Humans have long been fascinated by the night. It stands as a place of unknowing, where danger can lurk easily. It used to be my greatest fear. Not the night it's self I told my mother, but the robbers in the dark. I'm so much more paranoid now, and I'm told it may be a side effect of the depression manifesting in a sort of pseudo-psychosis. Good to know not even my psychosis is real. Which makes me feel like I'm faking it. Seriously I'm about to go out of mind these squirrels sound like they're going to pounce on me at any second and while I'd like to die; not like that.