#once i have my own space ill hopefully be better with that
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pinksewna · 5 months ago
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Oooh I needd to sew Mizuki(prsk) inspired pants. I kinda want to do two versions so one that’s closer to Mizuki’s pants and an inverted one (black pants, pink lace). I haven’t really made bigger garments before so pants seem a but intimidating but I really want to
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girlivealwaysbean · 22 days ago
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man
#i want to cry to someone everything sucks#normally it's fine that im never happy just living studying but kt gets so hard when im on my period#idk if it's real or if im making it up but i genuinely feel like crying for no reason#if i was at home i would lay down on my couch and eat a lot of unhealthy favorite food and my mom would talk to me about#some soap opera and i would only half listen and it would be okay#but here toh fr i feel like ill start crying in front of my dad if he keeps ignoring me to work or look at his phone#i don't even know what i used to do to make myself happy and god that's scary. i don't want to sink into sadness again#i know i should talk to my friend but why am i so scared. like every night i think ill do it tonight but then i just chicken out and go to#sleep. it's crazy whenever i do talk to her aftera lot of time i feel instantly better and i berate myself for not having done it sooner#but like. aah. im scared it's a lose lose like what if i do talk to her and it doesn't make anything better and then i don't even#have that last sliver of hope left. on the other hand#what if i do talk to her and it makes everything better and then i start relying on her and then she's not there when i need her again?#i hate being dependent on people it's so scary and you can never count on them to be there#i miss being a kid that clean happiness untouched by any other sad emotion and entirely independent#now it's like even if im happy im terrified of losing it and no thing is really enough#i wish i could just. not have emotions for s year. just till exams. i can't focus like this i keep spacing out between#lectures randomly tearing up for no reason#i don't know i don't know#oh it's day 2 of periods hopefully it'll all go away on its own it usually does#i hate this pcod bs so much cause like i get depressed twice once when my period is due but then it doesn't come but im still dep#and once when it actually does come like 10 days later#like bitch tf let me live
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itsalwaysdark · 4 months ago
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and also it doesnt even matter if i miraculously get a job tmrw bc we don't have a car . and im too out of shape to walk anywhere bc everything is far away . so i genuinely dont jnow what to do
#im not smart or talented or hot enough to have a source of income working from home.#i dont have a ged or a kicense or a way to get to work or much experience + ive got a steadily fucking growing gap in my employment history.#And i have essentially 0 social skills i barely Function half the time im dissociated or just crying. im weak and out of shape and#not pretty im like. unhireable i think . and again even if a place did hire me I dont have a way to fucking get 2 work#i might be able to walk 2 a place if i had been at work for a while bc if be more used to being on my feet and active again. its take a#while and id be in a Lot of pain but like. itd be doable. and once i worked for s bit i could get lyfts even tho Expensive also idk that#there as many drivers here. and wtvr. but if i did that itd be Less money to help my family and less money to save up toget my own place and#atp maybe its selfish of me to want my own place and i need to judt be more grateful im allowed 2 stay here . yk#idk. im so tired i just need like. idk. ik the only way is to just get through it and get a job and make it work but it feels so pointless#everything always does. i cant keep getting over hurdles man im so fucking tired of getting through hurdles#every single day is Difficult and every single day is the Same and any time j manage to have a good day ill just go right back to feeling#exactly the same. and even if it looks like everythings better for a bit it all goes back down eventually and ik im supposed to be like But#itll get better again after that <3 ups and downs are a part of life <3 we have to have the bad to appreciate the good <3 im just fucking#sick of the goddamn bad im fucking sick of it ive had enough bad i want good. ik other ppl deserve it more i want everybody to have good#days and be safe and happy i don't want things to keep getting worse but everything just gets worse and all the good parts r tempirary and#im so tired. I am not your strongest soldier bro !!!#idk. i just want to be atable i dont need anything crazy i just want my family to live comfortably and to have enough money that i can#donate i rly donot need much i dont need that much food 2 survive i dont need a ton of space i dont need a nide house i like. i just want to#be Stable and know that everything will be ok. yk. at least 4 my family i want them all to be able to eat and the bills 2 be paid and#hopefully for lamp and the kids 2 go to college. bc lamp and tag both want to go to college and itsy is 6 so he soesnt care#but i want them to be able to so bad bc i can't and i ws never gonna be able to and i dont get to be whiny abt that but like. they want to#and theyre smart and passionate and like. i want them to be able to achieve their dreams and get to have normal lives and be fulfilled and#happy. yk. idk. annie showed me her schoolwork the other day and since it wa first week at like. an alt school it ws a lot of personality#type stuff and mental health stuff and im not gonna get into it bc its not mine to tell but. their answers for one of the things made me so#upset bc it sounded so much like me when i was their age and even now and it makes me feel so guilty that like. i didnt make it better for#them. im the one whos supposed to endure it and then theyre supposed to get to be happy but im too fuckinf weak nowadays and i can't keep#any of them safe or happy and i feel so insanely useless. i hate it i just want to be useful idc anymore like. i want to be good i want to#be helpful i want to be cared abt and its so selfish bc a part of me is like. Ohh wahhh we shouldnr have to do all that to be cared abt wahh#and its dumb bc Yes i do its my job. it just fucking sucks rn bc like i have all the like. sorrow over this being what i have to do and this#is my lot in life but i also have all the guilt over how im not doing it bc km lazy and selfish and i cant just work bc im . Ugh
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dokoni-mo · 2 years ago
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Crave: Part Six || William Afton x GN! Reader
summary: the eye of the storm
mild NSFW
word count: 4404
warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, indirect mentions of stalking, dirty fantasies, kissing
minors dni // please read warnings!!
part one // two // three // four // five
a/n: helloooo everyone!! I am back again with another part!! I've gotten a lot of messages asking where this was and here it is!! It's my spring break now, so i have time to feed all of you guys again!! thank you to everyone who was patient with me in the meantime, it means a lot <3 hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for the wait!! enjoy!!
~~~
Even though it was very much out of the way, Mr. Afton's office was still far too noisy for his liking.
When first establishing the diner, he was well aware that the target audience was children first, and then their parents second. And, having had children of his own, William knew that children were noisy. Very noisy. But surely their parents could control them in public spaces, yes? Other kids want to enjoy the animatronics and the music too. And that's hard to do when brat one and brat two are screaming their heads off. So surely the parents would teach them some manners, right?
No. Of course not. He was being too optimistic.
And, over the years, William found that smoking was the only cure to his headaches. They were frequent while at work, and he took frequent long breaks to cure them. The nicotine was the only remedy.
Aside from his bunny, of course. Though you were far more addicting than the nicotine.
William hadn't heard a word from you ever since the incident with Michael on Monday. It was Wednesday now, and he still missed you just as much as he had prior. You remembered your rules, didn't you? Phone him once a week? Don't tell him you forgot already. Each minute that ticked by he could feel the pull of anticipation coming from whatever phone was nearby. Hell, he had barely slept the last few nights because he wanted to be sure he'd get your call. But the lack of sleep was getting to him. He could feel it in the sting of his eyes every time he blinked.
Damn it, bunny. You need to be more attentive with these things.
Running his hand through his brown-grey hair, he breathed out a heavy sigh as he tamped out his third cigarette of the day. His elbows were situated heavy on his expensive, messy desk, leaned forward in his chair. He needed to get a hold of himself. It had only been a few days. You were a good bunny, and of course you were gonna follow the rules. William shouldn't chastise you too much. You had things to do, most likely. Or just wanted to wait to play it safe. He just missed you a lot more than he expected. Especially after all that with Michael.
The brit felt his jaw clench, reaching in his desk drawer for a fresh pack of cigarettes.
Who the fuck did that boy even think he was? He had no right to disturb William's peace like that, sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Your relationship with the older man was none of his damned business. And who was he to even question it to begin with? Question him? Question you? Poor bunny. You were probably so frightened, weren't you? William hoped you weren't scared off too much, enough to where you didn't want to call. Did you think it was best not to anymore? God damn it. Mr. Afton wished he could communicate with you better.
The brit bent his neck down as he pulled open one of his drawers, searching for his lighter.
Fucking Michael. Always ruining shit. William was getting fucking sick and tired of his bullshit, having to be the ring-leader in the fuckery circus. Michael was a damn brat.
He'd fucking pay for this.
After successfully lighting the cigarette, William heard a knock as he put the lighter away. A brief twinge of hope rushed through him as he looked up at his office door. Could it be you, little bunny? Did you not call because you were planning to visit him this whole time? Sweet little one. Always so considerate.
But, then again...
William's excitement vanished as soon as it came up. He gave you the key to his office, and instructed you to let yourself in. This couldn't be you, no.
Damn. Fucking, damn.
Fuck whoever this was. He could go fuck himself.
Clearing his throat, William put on his rehearsed friendly voice as he called out to the mystery person.
"Come in!"
The door clicking open and shut, William was greeted with a pleasant surprise, but not the one he was hoping for.
Henry.
William felt a little bad for thinking Henry should go fuck himself.
Henry was William's best friend. Hell, in a lot of ways, William's only friend. At least the only person that he considered to be a real friend. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the only person William allowed to be at least somewhat of himself around. Of course, the brit was never fully himself, no. He knew if Henry saw the real him, his American friend would want nothing to do with the brit. No, his true self was only reserved for you, little one. Because he just loved you that much. And you loved him just the same. But still, Henry was a close friend to William. They had known each other since William had first stepped foot in the states, all those years ago. William knew everything about Henry, and Henry knew all he needed to know. It was a nice friendship.
Stepping through the door, William noticed right away that Henry was slightly out of breath, sweaty too. Being a heavier-set man, Henry was prone to sweating every now and again, but the slickness in his fiery reddish-blond hair told William that he'd probably just stepped out of the Fredbear costume. Henry's glasses were fogged, but he seemed more preoccupied with catching his breath to care right now.
"Hey, Bill! Sorry to barge in." Henry chuckled to his friend, leaning against the cool surface of the wooden door, "I just had to get away from those kids out there."
William gave the man the most sympathetic smile he could, taking a puff of his cigarette, "Tough crowd, hm?"
Henry chuckled again, shaking his head, "Nah, just really excited to see Fredbear. They missed ol' Bonnie though, you know."
The brit breathed out a hum, "Well Bonnie had to file his restaurant's taxes this afternoon. And someone has to keep this place afloat, no?"
"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for taking care of that, by the way. I know how much you hate crunching the numbers."
"It's no big deal." William sat back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, "I'd argue you got the tougher job today out of anyone."
Henry laughed again, one of his signature belly-laughs, "Yeah, yeah, that's fair. How's it going, Bill? How're you?"
William knew that Henry was going to be keen on talking, so that meant not much time for smoking. The brit took one last puff of nicotine before tamping it out.
"Quite well, actually. You?"
"Oh, you know me! Same old, same old. How're the kids doing? I hear Mikey's getting along well in college these days! That's good for him, though. I remember how much he used to struggle. I told him though, he just needed to find his people, find what he's passionate about, yknow?"
William felt his jaw clench. The only thing his son was passionate about was making a mess of things.
"He's doing fine, yeah." William said, "Though he's hardly ever home long enough for me to ask these days. But, I haven't gotten a letter of expulsion. So I assume all is well, yeah?"
Henry laughed, "Definitely! And how 'bout lil' Evan and Liz? Jee, it's been forever since I've seen them two. They grow like weeds at this age, at least Charlie did. Bet they're huge now!"
William let his smile fall a little, "Actually, I haven't seen them much either."
"Oh? Really?"
"Really." William took his feet off his desk and sat forward in his seat, "Clara seems not quite as willing to let them come over these days, it seems. Something about Evan's nightmares popping up again. The robots seemed to frighten him more than I had realized."
Henry crossed his arms, "Ah, jee, Bill. I'm so sorry. I know you gotta miss 'em."
"I do. I know Clara has her reasons, but... Let's just say the house is a lot more quiet with just me and Mike in there, yeah?"
Henry seemed to finally catch his breath and stop sweating now, taking off his fogged glasses. Glancing between the brit and the lenses, the red-head used the end of his t-shirt to wipe the glass.
"Yknow, Bill," Henry began, "It's been about 8 years since you and Clara split. Maybe it's time to, yknow... get back out there. It's not too late, even for old guys like us. I'm sure the kids would understand, too. At least eventually they would."
William felt another smile threaten to creep up on his face. Oh, Henry. You poor soul. The brit appreciated the sentiment, but there wasn't any need to worry about him. At least, not now. Not anymore. William had his precious, adorable little bunny now. And they were everything the older man needed and more. All he'd ever need ever again.
Fuck.
He missed you. He missed you so fucking much.
Henry seemed genuinely worried for William, too. Not that Henry wasn't ever genuine. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the most genuine person William had ever met. Never had a bad word to say to anyone about anything. It allowed William to put some of his trust in Henry, and make him a friend.
The extent of that trust?
Enough to tell Henry about you. Or, at least, tell him a little bit about you. Henry didn't need to know the whole truth.
Just enough for William to stop missing you so much.
"Actually," William began, his smile finally spilling over onto his handsome features, "I have... met someone, you could say."
Henry looked to the brit with shock and amusement, his smile widening as he put his glasses back on, "No way, really?! Bill, that's great! I mean... wow! I didn't even realize you were looking!"
"Thank you. We only started... seeing each other this past weekend. But, I already like them quite a bit. They are... unlike anyone I've ever met before. We click, yeah?"
The American let out an amused chuckle, "Wow, I mean, that's amazing, man! What's their name? Where're the from?"
William knew that he couldn't give Henry your real name. This town was too small. If Henry didn't already know you, he'd find out who you were one way or another. And he wasn't ready for that yet.
"Their name is... Bunny. From... Vegas."
"Vegas, huh? Interesting! What're they like?"
William let out a hum from the back of his throat, picturing your little face in his head, "Everything I could ever want. Or need."
Henry laughed again, "Wow, sounds like you really like 'em!"
"I do. Though they're a busy person. It's... difficult for us to be together all the time. I miss them terribly."
"I can understand that. It was like that with me and the Mrs. for a while there. Especially when setting up this joint." Henry responded as he patted the doorframe for emphasis, "But! Yknow what really helped us back then?"
"Hm?"
"When the dust settled enough, we took a week away! Just her and I, and left Charlie with the grandparents. It really helped us, like, reassure each other that we were our biggest priorities. It's like we fell in love all over again! We still talk about it to this day!"
William felt his lips part as he listened to his friend. A week away, hm? Now that did sound intriguing. The idea of getting away from this shithole town and whisking you away somewhere private did sound nice. Somewhere nice and secluded, so it could just be you and him. No worries looming over your shoulders of being caught, or leaving some sort of trail behind. Somewhere where you didn't have to look over your shoulder, and fully be in the moment. Together.
The brit shifted his grey eyes over to the calendar at the front of his desk. Your fall break was coming up soon. Next week, to be precise. Would that be enough time to plan all of it out? Money wasn't an issue to William, not at all. But he just wondered if him and you could be away for a whole weekend without raising any eyebrows.
But, then again. College students rarely stayed around town that week. Hell, Michael would probably be even spending it a this mother's. That makes things more convenient. William could just say he needs to travel for business. And he could just get you to say that you were spending it away at distant relative's houses.
Yes, that could work.
But where would he take you? There's that national park upstate not too far away. Tucked away in the few woods that Utah had. William remembered taking his family up there once a long time ago, when Michael was still in high school. The only people there were a few other families, as well as the managers of the hotel site. And they wouldn't give a damn about anything that the two of you could possibly get up to, so long as things stay quiet and the checks cleared.
Though, if William gets you all to himself like that... it might be a bit hard to keep you quiet.
He wanted to hear just how loud his little bunny could get.
But, that could sort itself out later.
Henry was a smart man.
When William got back after next week, he'd have to thank him for the wonderful idea.
~~~
"A trip? Together? Will, don't you think that's a bit... risky?"
It wasn't until the sun had started to creep down the horizon the next day that you called. Although his talk with Henry had helped, William still missed you deeply during the time in between. His fantasies of you and the jacket that he stole could only keep him company for so long. He was just grateful that he had been home when you called, and that Michael wasn't there to ruin any more shit.
William didn't expect you to be so apprehensive about his little idea. He assumed that if he was the one that brought up something like that, you'd know that it was safe to do so. William is smart, little one. He's already thought every little detail through. Don't you trust him not to put you in any kind of danger?
He told you that you two would leave on Sunday, it being Thursday now. This would give you time to wrap up anything for school that you had outstanding, if any, and give him enough time to sort things out. The hotel reservation. Lying to everyone that he'd be on a business trip. Making sure that idiot Michael was tucked away at his mother's for the week. Plus, enough time for him to think of what the two of you would do up there, tucked away in the little corner of the woods.
Alone.
Without any prying eyes.
Oh bunny. If only you knew what he was capable of. When things were perfect like that. When things were how they should be.
"It's not risky at all, love." He responded to you, holding the phone up with his shoulder as he circled the number of the Hotel on the newspaper, "We'd be far enough away from town to where no one would recognize us. It's just a tourist destination anyway, bit run down, yeah? There'd be no one we'd know, just perhaps a few other passer-bys."
William could hear how you turned over in your bed from the other end of the phone, perhaps to prop yourself up on your elbows, "But what if someone is there? Like, how're we supposed to explain that?"
"Love, there's not going to be anyone there we know."
"Yeah, but... what if there is?"
William chuckled as he set the newspaper down, re-grabbing the phone from off his shoulder, "You worry far too much, bunny."
"Well I don't think you're worried enough, Will. This could be really dangerous for us..."
"But it won't be, (Y/N). I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought it'd be too dangerous. You know that."
You sighed, "I do, it's just..."
The brit shifted the phone to his other ear as he leaned his back against the wall, "What, love? You can tell me."
"It's just I don't wanna be, like... found out this early on. Like, what if someone really is there? And we can't see each other again because of it? And we'd have to go back home and pretend to be strangers again and it all gets, like, ruined and..."
You trailed off towards the end, but William understood what you were trying to say. Oh, sweet bunny. It's so cute you were so worried. But it wasn't anything to worry about in the first place, and perhaps you knew that deep down. You like to worry yourself silly, don't you, little one? Turns out you were far more paranoid than even William himself. Didn't that wear you out?
You need to calm down, bunny. William would never let anything stand between you and him. He loved you, and he'd fight for you until the bitter end.
"Bunny, listen to me, yeah?" The brit hummed, "Nothing is going to happen out there. I'll make sure nothing could possibly go wrong. And even if something did, it won't be anything for you to fret over, love. I'll take care of everything. I promise."
You fell silent for a few moments, but eventually let out a tiny sigh, the ruffling of your bed covers coming from the background again.
"Finneeeee." You breathed out, "But only if you're sure it'll be okay."
William felt his grin stretch across his handsome face, "I'm certain, little one. Just leave it all the me, yeah?"
"Where even is this place again? I've never heard of it before."
"It's only a few hours north of here. Kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but that just means no one will bother us with our... quality time."
The older man heard how you giggled over the phone, imagining the blush that came up on your cheeks, "Where'd you even hear of this place to begin with? You don't seem like the outdoors-y type. No offense."
"Ah, no, love, I'm not, but I used to take my kids up there every now and again. Back when we all still lived together."
"I see... Will, yknow, if you'd rather spend this week with them, I won't be offen-"
William chuckled again, "No, love, it's quite alright. Michael's too old for that sort of thing now, and the ex-wife is already taking the other two up to her mum's. Besides, I'd much rather be with you, anyway. I miss you, bunny."
"I miss you too, Will."
He let out a pleased hum, "Are you excited, love?"
"I am! I'm gonna start packing in the morning after my midterm."
"If you need any help, bunny, just give me a ring, alright?"
"I will, I will. Oh, and after we get back, just tell me how much everything was and I'll give you back half-"
William laughed again, amused by how cute you were, "Darling, please. There'll be none of that. I've got it all covered, sweet thing."
He heard you sit up in your bed, "Oh my god, no! Will, please, I can't ask you to do all that for m-"
"It's not an issue, bunny. Trust me."
"Still! That's a lot of money, and I can't just-"
The brit chuckled, "You can, love. I've got it all taken care of. Having you with me is payback enough, I promise. This isn't putting me out or anything. Just in this phone call I've made enough money to cover it two times over. Just be a good bunny for me, yeah? Let me spoil my sweet rabbit a bit. Think of this as just a little... honeymoon, of sorts. Alright?"
He could practically hear your blush from the other end, "O-Okay... Thank you, Will. Thank you very much, I... no one's ever been this kind to me before. So thank you."
"It's not a problem, little one. There's no need to thank me. This is just what you get when you're good for me, yeah? Do you understand?"
"I do."
"Good bunny. Though, if you really do want to say thank you, how about a nice kiss when I see you on Sunday, hm? Could you do that for me?"
You breathed out a smile, "Yeah, I can. Yes sir."
William let out another pleased hum, his smirk stretching even further, "Good bunny. It's getting late, little one. You should get some rest. We've got a long week ahead of us."
You ruffled around to where you were lying down again, "Yeah, you're right. Just... thank you again, Will. For everything."
"Of course, love. Anytime. Good luck on your exam tomorrow, yeah? I know you'll do fine. I'll see you Sunday, alright?"
"See ya Sunday, Will. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, bunny."
~~~
"Okay, Mike. Next one. The principle of conservation of momentum is a direct consequence of Newton's third law of motion. True or False?"
"Umm... false?"
"Mike! Come on, we learned this in high school!"
Michael groaned at his own cluelessness as you laughed at him for the umpteenth time today. It was Friday morning, much too early and much too cold to be cramming for a physics midterm. Yet, here Michael was.
With you.
The moment he locked eyes with you on campus, Michael had drug you away to your usual shared study-spot. Behind the old welcome center, which gradually had turned into a dumping site for any supplies or equipment the college didn't need anymore, but didn't bother to throw out. The cinder-block building made it much colder than it already was, but it was secluded. It always let the two of you be outside but without anyone threatening the join. You and Michael were a bit awkward. Not much of talkers to outsiders.
You were in your usual spot up on the ledge of the building. It was structured in a way in which part of the corner was cut out from the main walls. Originally intended for some sort of statue or monument, the corner was left empty once people lost interest in any sort of project being placed there. But, it made a nice little human-sized cubby to sit in. Your back was against the cold brick wall, with Michael sitting opposite you with his back on the stone as well. A flurry of old assignments and your books were strewn about in the narrow space between you and him, your legs tangled together in a bit of a mess.
Though you weren't in his physics class, you knew how much Michael struggled with it. Admittedly, he was never much of a math guy. Or any kind of school guy, really. But, you were. Michael knew you were a nerd. Even though you'd never admit it, you were. He'd joke about it to you every now and again, but deep down, admired that about you. You never needed to study much for anything. Or at least, not nearly to the magnitude he needed to.
That's why he didn't feel bad making you help him last-minute cram that morning. He knew you would be fine without studying for your test. Well, it was two birds with one stone, in a way. He both desperately needed the help, and desperately needed to know what was up with you.
He hadn't spoken to you since Monday of that same week, after his father had forced him to call you. Michael felt bad about potentially worrying you then, or even just calling you at such an ungodly hour, but he had decided it was ultimately for the best. He knew his father did some shit to you.
And he had to know what that shit was.
He knew that old man would rather finally croak than spill the beans, so he had to rely on you to give him answers. Seeing as you had most likely lied to him over the phone (not that he blamed you too much, he knew how manipulative the old geezer could be), he'd have to rely on his intuition as best he could. From the cues you gave.
But, that was the problem.
Although you hadn't lied to him before, nor really hid anything from him, turns you were damn good at it.
On Monday, he hadn't been able to pick up anything from you at all. You had greeted him and hung out with him like nothing was wrong. And hell, even now, you still were. You were your same old self. Just perhaps slightly... happier? More energetic?
That should be a good thing. Michael wanted to be happy for you.
But he knew something was up. It wasn't just a coincidence. And he needed to get to the bottom of it.
For you.
"This is all bullshit, anyway!" Michael exclaimed, running his hands though his long, feathered hair, "I didn't care back then about this shit, and I still don't now!"
You dropped the stack of flash-cards down to look at your friend square in his freckled face, "Mike, if you wanna be an engineer, you're gonna have to know Newton's Laws. It's, like, the main thing."
Michael scoffed, but not annoyedly, "Look, all I'm saying is, if they were really that important, I'd already know them."
The young man heard you laugh again, "Maybe if you already knew them you'd not be failing."
"I am not failing! I actually have a C this semester, thank you very much."
"Thaaaaat's nearly failing, Mike."
"Well thank god I've got the best tutor ever then, right?"
Michael felt himself smile to match your own, watching you roll your eyes playfully as you shuffled the flash cards in your hands, "It's just one more test then we're outta here. Then you can diss Newton all you want. But for now, we need to study."
Michael's grey eyes fell to the cards, silence falling over him. Right, fall break. He had forgotten all about it. He was gonna head up to his mom's house, with Liz and Evan.
But, his father...
"Hey," he said, "I never asked you. What're you doing for break?"
You glanced up at your friend at his question, only for your eyes to fall down to your hands again, "Actually, I'm gonna go outta town."
Michael shifted in his seat, "Out of town?"
"Yeah," you responded, "My grandma invited me to her place up state. I'm gonna spend the week with her."
"Where does she live?"
"I don't remember off the top of my head. But somewhere up in the woods."
The woods...
"What're you gonna do?" You asked him, catching the young man a bit off guard.
"Oh," he said, "I'm gonna go spend time with my mum and brother and sister. Probably the whole week."
Michael watched as you smiled at him, searching for any sort of hint behind your eyes, "That sounds fun. Hope you have a good time."
"Yeah... too bad my dad won't be coming."
Michael saw you glance up again at him.
"He won't?"
"Nah. Something about a business trip."
"That's understandable, though. Gotta do what you gotta do. I'm just surprised you'd miss him. It's not like you were ever his biggest fan."
Michael scoffed again, "Yeah. Maybe it's for the best."
"Yeah... maybe."
Silence fell over the two of you again, only broken by the shuffling of paper in your hands and the cool Utah air flooding through the trees in the distance.
Shit. Had Michael fucked it up? Was he being too direct? He never really talked to you too much about his relationship with his dad. At least, not in-depth, and nothing besides the occasional venting session. He'd have to explain every little nuance to you for you to get the whole picture. Of why he felt how he felt abut his old man. And he never wanted to unpack all that onto you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't your job to take care of him.
But, still.
He needed to get to the bottom of this.
"You think so too?" He asked, tearing your gaze away from the flashcards to focus on him.
"I mean," you said, "Things turn out how they do for a reason. Maybe it's just not time for a family reunion yet."
"Yeah, you're right... It's just, I kinda miss how things were before, yknow? When my mum and dad were still together."
"I can understand that. But, ultimately, it happened for a reason. And they probably did it because it just would've been best for you and your siblings. Better than just letting it... sit and brew, right?"
"I guess... So, does your grandma, like, live in a cabin or something? Is she a witch?"
You laughed, "No, no. Not a witch. At least from what I remember. And yeah I think it's a cabin. Or at least kinda like one. She rents it out occasionally, too."
A rentable cabin...
In the woods...
"For, like, tourists?"
"Or just any passers-by."
Michael felt his lips part at your words, a small pit forming in the bottom of his stomach.
The woods. The cabin. Your trip. His dad's trip.
Oh god.
Oh fucking god.
"Umm, Mike?" the young man heard you ask, briefly snapping out of his train of thought, "Are you good?"
Michael looked to you again and threw on his best smile, running a hand through his hair, "Shit, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! I just remembered I agreed to study with Steven this morning. Sorry, but I gotta run!"
The young man stood up and threw all his things into his backpack quicker than he ever had before. He didn't even care how all his papers were being crumpled, and the bookmarks were flying out of the pages.
You watched him with a somewhat confused expression, "Uhhh, okay? I can come with if you-"
"No, no, it's alright!" Michael exclaimed, almost too quickly, "You've already helped me more than enough, thanks. I just really gotta run."
Once all his stuff was in, Michael threw his bag over his shoulder, not even bothering to zip it up, "I'll see you after break, alright? Have a good week, (Y/N). Enjoy your grandma's."
Michael heard you call out something back to him, but he was already trudged off in the opposite direction. He didn't look back, not even once, his grey eyes fixated to the ground.
They stayed there for a good long while.
Until his legs carried him to the pay phone, his arms searched through his pockets, his fingers put in the quarter, and dialed his mother's number.
~~~
When Sunday rolled around, William had spent a fuck ton of time getting ready that morning. A lot longer than he normally did.
The brit had hardly slept the night before. He was just way too excited about what was to come after the sun had risen. An entire week away. With his precious bunny at his side. Away from this fuckhole town. Away from all the idiots that lived here. Away from his business. Away from his lonely home. Away from Michael. Away from any prying eyes that might threaten to take you away from him.
No. Come that morning, he'd be able to get away from it all. And have you close to him. Where you should always be.
He had laid out his best outfit before settling into bed the previous night. The purple sweater-vest he loved so much, with his black tie, slacks, and dress shoes. all tied together with his light-purple dress shirt underneath, accented with his silver watch and class ring from his university. Staring at himself in the mirror for what felt like hours, he had finally gotten his brown-and-grey hair to fall as perfectly as he wanted. As he would expect for himself when seeing you. You were already perfect for him. The least he could do was be the same for you.
Before William marched out the door to his car, he made sure to give himself an extra spritz of his cologne. Just to be sure that you'd be able to memorize his scent over this week. He planned by the end to either give you a piece of the clothes he had packed for you to keep, or spray his own cologne on your clothes. To give you some sort of unconscious reminder of him. For when the week was over. He was leaning towards the latter, however. Easier to slip in, and more long-lasting.
He'd think about it. He had plenty of time to decide.
The older man had already packed everything he needed long before the weekend ever came. He wanted to make sure that he didn't forget anything. This week needed to go by as perfectly as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he fucked it up somehow. Sure, yes, you were his good bunny. You'd reassure him with your adorable smile that everything was okay. But it wouldn't be, bunny.
There was no room for fuck-ups this week.
None.
Even though, William was pretty sure he was about to fuck-up at any second right then.
You and him had agreed that he would be he one to drive the two of you to the hotel. More like William decided, but you didn't seem to protest too much. At least not that he could pick up on. But, with that, William knew that he'd have to help you carry your luggage. Over the phone, you didn't say as much. Not in any way that might embarrass yourself.
"It might be a little tough for me to haul my shit down the stairs." You told him over the phone, "So just be patient with me, alright?"
William smiled to himself as he recalled your little voice. Oh, bunny. His silly little bunny. There's no shame in asking William to help you, sweet thing. Wouldn't you like to see a display of his strength? See just how much he can lift without any trouble at all? Why'd you want to see that, bunny? To see how well he could throw you around during you and his playtime?
Naughty bunny. Naughty naughty bunny. Who knew your mind was so filthy?
The brit was waiting outside of your door for you to answer, the sound of the wind breaking between the trees and the gentle rumble of his car's engine filling his rosy ears. He had knocked a few minutes ago, and was trying to be as patient as possible for you to answer. William knew you were awake. If he was careful about it, he could hear you scurrying around your house in a mad dash. It was cute. And he was a patient man.
Normally speaking.
William found it hard to resist the urge to just kick down the door and scoop you up into his arms. He had missed you so fucking much in the days leading up to today. His heart ached for you. His body ached for you. Just like before, he could already feel himself starting to harden inside his trousers. Just in the excitement and anticipation of seeing you again. The heat on his cheeks was creeping down his neck, making him shudder in the cold morning air.
Fucking hell. He was glad he picked out black to wear again today. Any other color, and you would've noticed his hard-on. As much as he loved playing with his bunny, he wanted to just be sweet and loving with you today. Hold you close. Kiss those adorable cheeks. Fuck. He just wanted you near him; needed you near him. Your warmth against his was so addicting. He had gone far too long without it. The jacket he stole from you was fine, but it wasn't the same. It couldn't replicate the feeling of your chest against his. The feeling of your plush thighs overtop his own. The way your little fingers ran through his hair, and down his scars... Fuck, bunny. Fucking hell. How we wanted you to touch him again. How we wanted to touch you again. Your skin was so smooth and soft. The way his long, calloused fingers could just slide across your belly and thighs like it was nothing. The dip of your waist own to your hips, and how his hands fit so perfectly there. God fucking damn. And your cute little butt; god above how he loved it. How he could just-
Before William could fantasize any more, the door keeping him from you finally clicked open, ripping his gaze away from the trees in the distance. The older man felt his lips gently part, finally being able to drink in the sight of you again. After so long.
Even though you were awake, it looked like you hadn't been for too long. For one, you were still in your pajamas. And you hadn't even seemed to comb your hair yet. Or, if you had, whatever you were doing made it unkept again. you were smiling at him, but your adorable little eyes were still tired. He could see the faint dark circles that lingered under them, coupled with the sheen of redness from within.
He was really happy he wore black trousers that day.
"Morning, Will!" you said, your sleepiness still in your voice, "Sorry to keep you waiting, just gimme-"
Before you could finish your sentiment, William pushed himself through the door and slammed it shut behind him. You had taken a few steps back from his sudden barging-in, but he was quick to close the distance between the two of you, the surprise of it all lighting up your sleepy eyes. Snaking one of his arms around your middle, his other hand landing on your cheek, William closed the rest of the distance between you and him, capturing your sweet, soft lips into a kiss. You had let out a tiny hum of protest from his sudden movements, but quickly stopped as you eased in, reciprocating the older man's affections. As the kiss deepened, William gently was able to turn the two of you around, backing you up against the door with your shoulder blades flush against the wood.
Your hands eventually found their home on his shoulders, allowing himself to press further against you. He wasn't too sure if you could feel the hardness in his pants against your thigh or not, but he didn't fucking care. All that mattered was that you were here. You were in his arms again, after so fucking long. You hadn't gotten much better at kissing since the last time he saw you, but he didn't fucking care about that either. All that mattered was that they were your kisses. And it was him that got to kiss you.
Did you understand that, bunny?
Only he was allowed to kiss you.
Him.
And only him.
Because you were his sweet, adorable, sexy baby bunny.
You eventually had to pull away for air, but that didn't stop William's barrage of affection onto you. With no more access to your lips, the brit turned his attention to your neck, tilting his head down towards the soft flesh. He could feel how you gripped onto him tighter as he gave you quick, demanding little bites against the side of your windpipe, sucking on the skin every now and again. It wasn't until his hands started to wander under your shirt that you said anything.
"Will!" You exclaimed, a slight giggle in your voice, "Please! I missed you too, but calm down!"
The brit let out a hum against your neck, moving his hand back to your waist as he gave your collarbones a few more kisses, "I'm sorry, bunny. I just missed you... I missed you a lot."
You giggled again at him, "It's okay, I missed you too. I'm just really tired. I didn't sleep too well last night."
Tilting his head back up, William gave you a kiss to your blushy cheek before locking eyes with you again, brushing the hair away from your face.
"No?" He asked, admiring his precious bunny's adorable features. You were even cuter than the last time he saw you.
"Yeah, I was too excited. And I kept feeling like... I dunno. Like I was gonna forget something."
"I understand, love. I was in the same boat myself." He leaned down to you, pressing a quick peck against your lips, "You can sleep on the car ride if you want to, bunny. I won't mind."
"It's alright. I'm used to staying up anyway, but... thanks again, Will. For all of this. I just... No one's ever done something like this for me before. It's a little hard to believe this is, like, real."
The older man chuckled, giving you another quick kiss, "There's really no need to thank me, darling. I've already gotten all the thanks I need."
Breathing out another smile, you stood on your tip-toes to press one last kiss against his lips.
"I hate to ask you this, but..." you said, "I can't lift my suitcase enough to get it downstairs. Can you help me? Please?"
William smiled. You were just too cute.
"Of course, bunny."
"Thank you. Come on, it's upstairs in my room."
Even though he was reluctant to do so, William let you go out of his grasp, immediately feeling a lot colder without you close to him. Following behind you, he could already see how the fresh hickies he had given you were starting to form. Three bright red spots now lined the right side of your neck, marking you as his.
William couldn't help but smirk to himself.
Your house was smaller than William's was, and much more empty too. You had told him before that it was largely only you that lived there now. Your parents lived there too, but only when they were around. Which was next to never, their line of work having them over-seas a majority of the time. Even still, the house was a bit of a mess for only having one person living in it. Granted, it's not like you had to clean up if you didn't want to. You weren't trying to keep a tidy home for everyone else. While William was definitely more of a tidy person, he understood the mess. And, admittedly, found it a little comforting.
It was your mess, after all.
This feeling of comfort only magnified itself the closer you lead him to your room. The mess gradually got messier as he neared the door, and the items strewn about became progressively more personal to you. Papers turned to books. Books turned to albums. Albums turned to clothes. Clothes turned into your more... personal clothes.
Fucking Christ.
William wanted to steal some of those too.
But eventually, all of the different items eventually amalgamated into your room. Both you and him had to step over a few piles of things to get past the door, but he was the first to stop. He was positioned just a foot or so past your bedroom door, while you scurried off more towards the back of it all.
"Sorry about all the mess," you said over your shoulder, "I meant to clean up before you came, but... I slept through my alarm."
William looked down to his feet at your words, kicking over a pile of your clothes gently to investigate its contents, "It's alright, love. I've seen much worse."
"Just wait there for a sec. I need to pack a few more things first."
William took this as a cue to further his investigation into your room. Honestly, it wasn't quite what he expected. Although, he had never really given any thought into how it might've looked. But regardless, he found himself quite fond of it.
Because it was just so... you.
It had all your favorite things in it. The posters on the wall of your favorite bands. The pictures of you and your family. A few art pieces that seemed just a bit aged. All the little trinkets and knick-knacks that lined shelves full of books you liked. The clothes you liked strewn about the ground. Album covers. Old movie ticket stubs. Your schoolwork. Your sheets. Your stuffed animals. Your scent.
It was like William had stepped inside of your mind.
And he fucking loved it.
Why didn't he think of this sooner? Coming into your room? He would've been able to learn so much more about you so much quicker than he had. Instead of pestering his dumbass son, he could've just come here all along. Oh god. Oh fucking god. This was all too much. He was surrounded by you. Everywhere he looked was something to remind him of you, because everything was you. Fucking hell. It smelled just like you too. And your bed. Your fucking bed. Just inches away from him, the place where you slept at night whilst away from him. The very thing that housed all your dreams, your phone calls, your tears, your study sessions, your pleasure. Did you think of him in there, bunny? How many times has his name echoed off of those walls? How many times have you imagined him there with you? Did you picture him slipping on top of you in that bed? Did you fantasize about his hands roaming up and down your body there? Did you? Was it his lips you imagined on your flesh? His voice you wanted to whisper in your ear?
Oh it was bunny. He knew it was. Just like he had done for you, in his own bed.
William was grateful to hear your voice again from the other side of the room. He was worried he might have another accident if he hadn't been stopped.
"Like what you see?" You asked him, shoving a few last-minute things into your suitcase.
The brit cleared his throat before responding to you, "I do actually, yes."
He hard you scoff playfully, "You don't have to humor me, Will. I know you're a neat-freak."
"No, no, I do like it, bunny." He reassured you, "It's very... you."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"A good thing, of course."
You chuckled, "Well I guess it makes sense. I've had the same room since the day I was born."
William felt one of his brows raise, "You've never moved?"
"Nah. This house has been in the family since, like, the 20s or something. I've never been outside of Hurricane, actually."
The older man felt his bewilderment grow, "Never?"
"Never ever. Other than a Disney trip when I was a baby, but I don't remember anything from it so it doesn't count. This trip will be my first time out of the city."
"Is that so... Well, I'm honored to be your first, bunny."
You chuckled again, "You're a lot of my firsts, Will."
William smiled to himself. Indeed he was, little bunny. Just like how it should be. You'd never need another man in your life, anyway. Not anymore, not after being his now. Isn't that all you'd ever want?
This trip was going to be good for you. He knew it would.
"Well I'm honored to be all of them."
~~~
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
"Oh, hey, sugar. What's up?"
"I have an update. On what's going on."
"Already? That's good, I just didn't expect somethin' so soon. Especially with him."
"Yeah, me neither, but... I think it might be worse than we thought."
"Worse how, baby?"
"Do you remember that old hotel place up state? We used to vacation to, like, before?"
"Oh God, don't tell me..."
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure they're heading there this weekend."
"I understand. I can get there before them if I leave tonight. Will you be here by then? To watch the kiddos?"
"Yeah, I will. What do you want me to tell them?"
"Just say I'm visiting their Auntie for a day or two and you're gonna watch them. I'll leave some money out on the counter for pizza, and there'll be some leftovers in the fridge. Just keep an extra eye on your brother, pumpkin. Poor thing's been having bad dreams again."
"Does he know?"
"No, I haven't told either of them. Probably won't, if I'm bein' honest."
"That's probably for the best. Just wait until they're older. I can't imagine trying to explain it to them now."
"They still love him, baby. It's better not to break their little hearts all over again."
"I know, I know, just... I wish they could know the truth. I feel like I'm lying to them."
"You're not, sugar. You're just protectin' them. They're just kids, pumpkin pie. Let 'em believe their daddy is a good man just a little bit longer."
"But he isn't. That's the thing. He's already fucked us up, now he's fucking my best friend up."
"I know, sweetie, I know. But we'll get it all fixed up, I promise you. Save 'em before it's too late 'n all."
"Yeah... yeah, you're right, I just... I'm sorry. I'm just worried."
"I know you are, I am too. But worryin' isn't gonna solve anythin'. Not right now. I'll be up there before sunrise tomorrow. I'll take care of it, sugar. Just try and enjoy your break in the meantime."
"Are you going to need any help? I can bring Liz and Ev up to Grandma's for a little."
"I don't think so. The restrainin' order should scare him off enough, but I'm gonna wait until I can get your little friend alone just to be sure."
"Okay... only if you're sure."
"Positive, baby. Don't you be worryin' about me, now. This ain't my first rodeo with him."
"Heh, yeah... You're right. As usual."
"Should I mention you when the time comes?"
"If you want. (Y/N)'s gonna figure it out quickly, anyway, so..."
"Okay."
"Thank you again. For all of this, I... I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't win against him."
"It's no trouble at all, sugar. Anything to keep it from happenin' again."
"Yeah..."
"Good luck on your test, baby. I gotta go start packin' now, okay? I love you, Mikey. Everything's gonna be fine."
"I love you too, mum. Thanks."
~~~
tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @lalyaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252
apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! also if i forgot to add you please let me know!!
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lixern · 1 year ago
Text
My rivalry with you expands... with love.
• AcademicRival!Scaramouche x GN!Reader
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(ignore this whole space ill fix it later.. i wrote this on phone thats why :3)
• Scaramouche was always better than you. Grades, popularity, getting others hearts! But.. he's also trying to compete with the beating of his own heart.
(song; Me and your Mama, Childish Gambino.)
Scaramouche has always been just- so annoying. He was always with you, same school and everything. You would've transferred, really, but you already had such a good reputation in this school- how could you leave your whole school life behind? 1st place in everything.. God no you wouldn't leave that behind, but you sure did know that Scaramouche stole that title, and a part of your heart.
You hated him with a passion, you really did. You hated how his cocky personality always shot at you when you looked at your report card or.. anything that resembled your grades! Scaramouche would pull out his, then show you how much of a higher score he got. Ugh, he was on your nerves.
But then the finals were coming up, oh finally! The next grade will come after summer vacation- hopefully Scaramouche has transferred by the time it arrives.. but wait, surely you need to beat him before the school year ends right?
"Class dismissed, I wish you all good luck."
The teacher said once the bell rung, right after they finished announcing the topic for each subject to be reviewed. You turned your head to a certain direction afterward- Scaramouche, with his cocky smirk. His annoying face made you have a mental block, how were you supposed to beat him?!
You grabbed your things and got up, leaving for the door. You just wanted to go home after this God forsaken day, but then suddenly, you felt a strong hand on your wrist.
"God, Scara. Just let me go home."
You spat out, hissing at the pretty boy. You didn't even look at him, but you knew his signature smirk was plastered on his face. You wanted to punch him so bad, but it was hopeless. If you punched him- the teacher would send you to detention, not him.
"Oh, how cute. It's so funny how your pretty little head thinks I'm letting you go."
Scaramouche countered, before letting his guard down by a tiny bit- silently gasping at how you flicked his hand away from your wrist. He groaned sarcastically, before pushing you out of the doors way. He made his way out of the classroom, making a peace sign before vanishing out of your sight.
You look back to see the teacher looking at you not so passively.. after the incident. You wish them a goodbye, embarassingly walking out the door after. You closed it gently, making your way to your locker after.
You walked slowly, just thinking about how you could possibly study harder- and how that teacher witnessed all of that silent bickering with Scaramouche.. Everything was so embarassing today.
But oh well, you thought, opening your locker once you got there, grabbing your books and whatnott, putting it in your backpack. You then close the locker door, to reveal a sly Scaramouche standing behind you.
"What do you want?"
You almost growl at him, groaning at how tired you were already. You wanted him to go away, you wanted him to just crumble on the spot. But yet he couldn't- he just wouldn't.
"Can I not interact with the person who deserves to talk to me? After all, you are in my league."
Scaramouche replies- treating you like your worthy to even breath the same air as him. It annoyed you, really. Why did he have to bully you and not anyone else?
"Just, go away."
You argue, not even glancing at him before walking away. This time, no hands land on your wrist. Huh.. unusual of him to do that. You brush it off anyway, glad that he left you alone.
Time passed, your already home. Up in your room and done with all of your chores. You brought out your books to study for each and every one of your subjects, but today, you chose to study for the hardest subject of all. Well, hardest for you atleast.
So you study and study and study... soaking up all the knowledge. Normally you wouldn't study this hard since getting scores higher than everyone but Scaramouche was easy, but.. you needed to beat Scaramouche, so, I guess you'd be studying all night.
You studied till you fell asleep, the cycle repeating each day and night. You thought about Scaramouche the whole time, how you hated him so much. But wait.. why would you think about him so much-? Why did your heart beat so much?
Come to think of it.. every time his skin touched yours- your heart starts to beat so fast.. wait- no! You can't love your enemy!
Or that's what you thought.
Ah.. finals week was up. You studied hard for this. Scaramouche was staring at you, you noticed once you took a flew peeks at him. You then looked in front to see the teacher handing out papers- I guess it started already.
The same thing happened all over again for the rest of the week, your tests would get handed out, then you'd start answering. But you noticed.. Scaramouche would look at you once in awhile. Was he cheating? No.. you were too far apart for Scaramouche to see your paper, even with 20/20 vision.
Each after exam Scaramouche would do something to make you crazy, surely bringing you down. Well, not really sabotage you or anything. He just.. seemed much more touchy.
So this all repeated, till your grades were handed out.
"Hey, lovely. Guess what happened for once."
You tilt your head at Scaramouche, lovely huh..? Wait! Now's not the time to be getting all flustered-!
"What is it, Scara. You beat me again? Just as I've thought."
You said sarcastically, paining a bit slowly that you couldn't atleast be first place for one more time. Till.. wait, what's that loving look he's giving you?
"Actually, no."
He said, slamming his paper on your desk. You slowly examined each number, wait.. you finally beat him? No, no you can't believe it.
"Hah, nice tricks pretty boy. But, I know someone made a mistake on your card."
You said, smirking up at him. Everything was a facade, you just wanted to go home now. But wait- maybe you were being delusional? You didn't know.
So you walked out again, repeating the same thing as last week. To the locker you went, but this time.. you didn't make it to your locker.
The sound of footsteps behind you scared you a bit, as it was a secluded area in that part of the school. Well, almost everyone rushed out after getting their grades after all.
Slam! You heard, before feeling a familliar hand on your back. You turned around, seeing a lovestruck Scaramouche staring at you, pinning you to the wall.
"Wh.. Archons, what are you doing!?"
You said out of instinct, it was a reaction. Scaramouche looked so serious, it was kind of funny. But what made it not so funny, is that you were inbetween his arms right now! You couldn't get out- you just couldn't.. the moment had you frozen!
"Listen, you've been like a fly to me the whole year. You just keep popping out of nowhere in my mind and I can't seem to get you away."
You listen to what he had to say, it was kind of hard to not listen anyway. But then- you heard something the just made your mind blow away.
He took hold of your chin, making your already red face look at him. Before he said;
"I hate to say that I love you."
Oh God, both him and you couldn't just handle everything. So that's why everyone in class started shipping you both? The tension, seriously? What a stupid reason.
That actually came true.
"Well god, I hate you. I hate how you make my heart beat faster than anything."
He followed, before pulling you in a harsh kiss. Wow.. mr goody two shoes breaking the school rules for once. Your eyes fell open, but then closed once you got used to the feeling. Your hands suddenly flew to his
face, pulling him in closer. Till- he pulled away.
"Was that a yes? Because I had to sacrifice my perfect streak for just you."
He then teased, you suddenly seemed cutely annoyed at what he said.
"Shut up."
You reply, before kissing him again.
I guess you'd spend summer vacation with him instead.
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my-castles-crumbling · 7 months ago
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hiya cas!! so i saw about your new job - congratulations!! im glad you were able to find something better for you, especially somewhere where your identity will be respected <33
as for advice with middle schoolers, ive only done a short teaching experience with kids aged 13-16 but hopefully some of it could be of use! (once ive finished my university course in teaching, ill absolutely be asking your advice in return ahaha)
so this ones less like advice and more just... a suggestion, i guess? maybe not for your first year there if you dont want to have too much on your plate or if you dont have time, but if theres any sort of extracurricular activities or lunchtime clubs you might want to set up, do it!! it creates such a safe space for kids if they dont feel like they can go outside/in the lunchhall etc - i definitely benefitted from a few myself when i was at school - and it helps make your classroom feel like a place kids can go to whenever they need help, which is huge. my english teacher at my first high school literally saved me by setting up her creative writing club, and we barely actually wrote stuff. but just by her having that space for me, it made me feel like her room was a welcoming place for me to exist whenever i needed support or somewhere to take a breath, and showed me that she was a safe person to be around <3
also, this maybe seems like an obvious one but just be yourself! dont try too hard to be likeable; im absolutely not saying to be an awful person, but i just mean that trying too hard will make the kids lose any respect for you because theyll deem you cringe :/ be yourself!! im sure theyll love you!
its okay to make mistakes, too, and if you do make any, dont try to hide them if anyone notices!! the kids need to know that its okay not to get things right all the time - perfection is not going to happen every time! i wish someone had shown me that in school. most of my teachers either hid their mistakes or they blamed it on others, which in turn made me feel like i had to hide and deflect my own mistakes too. its still a habit im trying to unlearn
i dont think ive got much else to say? a lot of it looks to have already been covered by others ahaha
best of luck!! youve got this in the bag, cas <33
Hi hon!!! Thank you so much for all of this advice, I really appreciate it. I think it's hilarious that you were in a middle school creative writing club that didn't actually do much writing because...I was too lol. Is that a common queer experience? Were your teacher's initials perhaps DM? (because that would be so fucking insane).
But YES I definitely want to do a club. I actually don't know if they have a GSA yet, so if they don't I'm gonna look into that. But if they do, a writing club sounds amazing.
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justanothermentalhealthblog · 6 months ago
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Starting over
So, very recently me and my ex-partner split up. Which honestly sucks. We'd been together for 5 and a half years and some of the fondest memories I have are shared with her. We'd started to build a life together and currently are renting together (More on that situation after). It wasn't a complete shock to me that our relationship was struggling, and the signs had been staring me in the face for a while. However I was blissfully ignorant about how bad the situation was right up to the point where 'the conversation' happened.
Everyone has a conversation like this at some point in their lives. You go to sit down very unaware of the bombshell that's about to be dropped on you. ''when the tenancy is finished, I'm moving out'' - Now the tenancy doesn't end for another 7 and a half months, but I instantly read between the lines, we were done.
The panic instantly set in, and a number of questions flooded into my extremely confused and now very active head while we continued to talk;
Does this mean were ACTUALLY breaking up?
Where am I going to live once the tenancy is up?
How could I have not seen this and prepared myself?
What did I do wrong?
At this point I just go into autopilot, nodding my head and agreeing with what she's saying...
You see my ex-partner has had a rough year of it, she's lost close family members, had others fall very ill, and the strain on her has been immense to just carry on and continue with her life. It's taken a toll on me as well, dealing with the days where nothing is going right, and everything seems like it's going against us. I think that for myself, I've tried to do everything I could to support and be there when she was most vulnerable, but in that moment, I felt like I wasn't enough for her. And I probably wasn't, yes I was assured that it wasn't my fault and it was her perspective that had changed, but I was left with the feeling that I had done something horribly wrong, and this was my fault.
I think it's human nature for us to react like this after a breakup, thinking about what I could have done better, if there was a decision that I could have changed, or if I could have just been the person that they needed, when they needed. I felt like this year had been spent grieving, and we couldn't handle any more loss between. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Not only do we now have to deal with the loss of a partner, along with all the other horrendous things that have happened, we now have to live together while dealing with it. We have just about 7 months left on our tenancy agreement, one we both aren't financially able to just end and move on. So while going through this breakup, we have to live in the same space and co-exist, while hurting, and trying to move on.
We both still want to be in each others lives, but this is a bit full-on by both of our definitions. This is probably going to be the hardest 7 months of my life (so far). Fortunately we have a 2 bedroom flat so we have our own space, but it doesn't make it that much easier.
For the first few days, I was a mess... I rarely cry, but the first 2-3 days, I was in tears over the smallest things. Seeing pictures of us together on the wall, out on our adventures, or just goofing around. Finding little trinkets we'd gifted to each other and remembering how we'd got them, boy this is going to be hard. I rarely slept or ate, and the people i worked with had caught on that I wasn't okay. I don't think I've ever received so many hugs at work before. They knew about the situation at home, and I honestly couldn't have got through it without them, I love you all <3
I've got better since then, going on walks and exercising, eating full meals and re-connecting with old friends. It's going to be a rough journey still but I'm going to share it on here, so hopefully, anyone going through something similar will know that it's going to be okay, because it will.
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typingatlightspeed · 2 years ago
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Ohh could you write some speedingbullet whump and/or hurt/comfort pretty please? alternatively some dom/service sub body worship dynamics between demo and sniper however which way you like it
TF2 Fanfic - Textures
Scout catches the flu and a sinus infection robs him of his senses of smell and taste, leaving him miserable and having trouble willing himself to eat. Sniper helps figure out a workaround to get him eating, at least.
Sappy Hope you enjoy, anon! I couldn't come up withy any good whump so I went hurt/comfort, drawing from some of my own experiences with illnesses over the years (and particularly my bout with COVID last year).
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"You've gotta eat somethin'," Sniper urged, setting a bowl of soup down on the night stand. "If you don't eat you're not gonna have the strength to recover.
"I'm not hungry," Scout mumbled though a stuffy nose, his eyes slowly rolling open, squinting in the low light that filtered through the blinds of his quarters. "Can't taste it anyway with this sinus infection."
"I know, Jer, but—"
"I can't get it down!" Tears pricked at Scout's eyes, and he rolled onto his side to face away from Sniper, shifting on the bed with what little energy he had. "If I can't taste it I can't get myself to swallow it. It's just nothin', no sensation. Everythin's just all snot."
Sniper sighed, sitting on the bed in the space Scout left, utterly frustrated. The younger man had been sick for a week and a half with what Medic was sure was the flu, and once the coughing had given way to a sinus infection, Scout had completely lost the ability to smell or taste anything. He'd claimed it had just tasted like rotten mucus, and he had stopped eating.
It had been a sad thing at first, seeing the usually spry and energetic athlete rendered inert and writhing with muscle aches and fever, coughing up his damned lungs. Ever the dutiful boyfriend, Sniper had done his best to tend to him while minimizing contact, not too keen on getting sick himself. But now that Scout wasn't eating, he cared less about his own safety and more about his boyfriend's.
"If I get you some interestin' textures do you think you'd be able to choke somethin' down? You've got to eat, Jer."
Scout mumbled quietly, his voice more a whimper than actual speech.
"Can't understand you." Sniper tried not to let himself get frustrated. Scout would always get so quiet and pathetic when he felt like shit.
"I can try," Scout repeated, unsure and exhausted. He'd half said it just to get Sniper to stop lecturing him, wishing he'd just let him sleep.
"Alright, that's all I ask is that you try. I'll figure somethin' out and be back. If you can, try to get some of that soup down too. At least drink some broth, yeh?"
"Okay," Scout mumbled, drawing the blanket up around himself. "Thanks, babe."
"You don't gotta thank me; just get better," Sniper sighed, petting Scout's hair fondly before standing. "Love you."
"Love you too."
Closing the door behind him, Sniper sighed and pulled off his hat, running a hand through his hair. Scout was an absolute mess, and he had no idea if he was getting better or not at this point. Medic had told him that progress was not expressly linear, especially with a flu as bad as Scout's, but it still didn't make him worry any less as he progressed from symptom to symptom rather than simply shedding them on his way to convalescence.
The fact that the poor guy just had to suffer through it as the virus ran its course just made it worse. Sniper hated seeing Scout have to go through this, and worse was that the only thing he could do was try to make sure he ate, showered, and made it to the bathroom if he was too weak to get there on his own. Thankfully, that last contingency had only come to pass twice over the past week.
With a shake of his head to rouse himself from his thoughts, Sniper donned his hat again and set off down the hall for the mess to try and scrounge up something with an interesting mouthfeel. Hopefully the novelty of sensation would be enough to get Scout past the inability to taste anything but his own infection.
It was hot. On a good day, the New Mexico badlands were blistering to the native New Englander, but here, curled up in bed with a fever rolling in and out like the tide, the heat came in unbearable waves. The slightest draft, the barest caress of a breeze made him feel like he was freezing and brought on fresh cramps and joint pain. So instead he would sweat, bundled tightly in his blankets on his stiff, unyielding RED-issue bed. Even so he shivered, too cold, too hot simultaneously, and he craved more blankets as though wrapping himself in a cocoon of warmth would somehow solve anything. Maybe he just craved the pressure that it would provide, some comforting weight to envelop him and make him feel safe.
He wished Sniper would come back, curl up with him, wrap his arms around him and tell him he was going to be okay. He craved the familiar embrace of his lover, gangly limbs holding him close, lips pressing kisses onto the crown of his head. He wished dearly for Sniper to envelop him in himself, to make him feel like everything was going to be okay, like he wasn't dying.
Scout didn't think he was dying. He'd died enough times to know how that felt. But here, now, shivering and sweating under his scratchy covers, Scout felt like death regardless.
He'd lost track of time, no idea how much or little had passed, when he heard a soft clack at his door, a single-knuckle knock of courtesy before it was opened and Sniper slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. The bushman wore a smile writ with trepidation, and held a paper bag in his hand.
"'ope I didn't wake you, love," he soothed, his voice as soft as he could manage in spite of its rough, gravelly tones. Scout didn't mind. He loved the sound of Sniper's voice when it was quiet; he found it almost unbearably sexy. It was really too bad he felt too much like shit to properly appreciate it.
Scout mumbled muzzily, words not quite congealing out of the jumble of syllables he'd wheezed out. He tried again, his eyes cracking open to look up at the gentle, worried face of his lover, "It's okay, I been sleepin' so much."
"That's a good thing," Sniper replied, steadying himself with one hand on the bed as he settled onto the floor next to it, crossing his legs and setting the bag down. "Rest's important for you."
Inching to the edge of the bed, Scout flopped an arm over to pet at Sniper's cheek, his fingers clumsily tracing the line of his jaw fondly. He wanted to give him a hug, a proper squeeze, but could barely keep his arm up enough to do this. "'m so tired 'a sleepin'."
"I know, but you need it."
"I'm lonely," Scout murmured, curling his legs up a little tighter against himself. "But if you sleep with me you're gonna get sick."
Sniper sighed. He hadn't slept in the same bed as Scout in over a week, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he was lonely too. They'd gotten so used to the comfort and safety of sleeping in one another's arms, of just being around one another so constantly, that this time apart—marked by Sniper only visiting for brief periods and trying not to make too much contact—practically felt like one of them was in prison. At this point he'd almost wished he hadn't made the effort not to get sick, so they could at least have been miserable together through most of it.
"I'm sorry," Sniper replied, unsure what else to say. He opened the bag in front of him, withdrawing a few folded Chinese food containers and a styrofoam bowl with a lid. "We gotta get you better sooner then."
"Whassat?"
"Couldn't find anythin' on base to cook that would be good enough. 'Least, nothin' I know 'ow to cook," Sniper chuckled. "So me and Pyro went on a run to town for some Chinese. Pyro says 'e used to get sinus infections all the time when 'e was a teenager. Real sickly kid. Lost 'is sense of taste all the time. 'e said somethin' crunchy-fried'll 'elp with the whole texture-for-flavour substitution thing, and that we 'ad the right idea."
Scout blinked and slowly pulled himself up onto his elbow, realizing for the first time that it was nearly night. Grey light filtered through the blinds, the golden rays of sunset long past, but the blue shadows of night yet to fully overtake the desert. He'd been out for a while. "You went all the way to town for me?"
Sniper smiled. "'course. You gotta eat," he said with a shrug of one shoulder. "If this is what can get you to eat, then it's well worth it, I'd say."
"Mick..." A wobbly smile crawled across Scout's lips, and he felt like the slightest thing would set him off crying. Sniper was so sweet, so kind, so doting, and he could never really figure out how to handle it. Scout had spent his entire life as an afterthought, the last one to get anything, even respect. And here, this man almost twice his age treated him like he was his world. Scout still couldn't really wrap his head around it, and it made his chest flutter. A soft laugh escaped him, and he shook his head to keep his eyes dry. Then he stilled, the shake leaving him dizzy, all of the mucus in his head sloshing and shifting in horrible ways. When he could bring himself to open his eyes again, he looked into Sniper's, and lost himself there for a long moment. "I love you," he fairly whimpered, reaching to pet at his face again.
Sniper caught Scout's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip before pressing a final smooch to his palm. "Come on, you sappy wreck," he teased. "Let's get you fed, yeh?" Scout stared a long moment, expectant, until Sniper rejoined, "I love you too, Jer."
That satisfied him, and Scout finally brought himself up to a seated position, folding his legs under himself and tucking his blankets as flat as he could. "So what'd you get me, anyway?"
"Fried pork and cabbage potstickers with ginger sauce, and some fried wontons. Got some sweet and sour sauce to dip those into."
"So it's just all crunchy," Scout mused. He inhaled, hoping against hope that the aroma of hot pork, ginger, fry oil, anything really, would break through the stench of rot and mucus that filled his senses. He suppressed a soft sob at his failure to smell any of it, and tempered his expectations accordingly. Eating without taste was like fucking without pleasure, leaving him wholly unsatisfied and desperate for any of the sensory input he craved. But as he took hold of a wonton and bit into it, he took solace in the crunch and crispiness, textures giving him something to cling to as he dutifully performed the joyless task of eating something to fuel his recovery.
"How is it?" Sniper asked.
Scout sighed through his nose, "I can't taste anything. Still. But at least it feels different."
"That's something then. All I ask is you get something down, so we can get you healthy again."
"I just wanna feel better so you can hold me again. I miss you."
Sniper frowned and stood, walking around to the other side of the bed. He kicked off his boots and set his hat and sunglasses on the footlocker at the end of the bed, and sat behind Scout. He lay down, rolling to face his lover's back, and wrapped an arm around his waist as he ate. He placed a kiss on Scout's side, ignoring the chilly sweat that had collected on him.
"You're gonna get sick," Scout mumbled around a potsticker, ginger sauce running down his chin.
"I'll be fine. And you're not gonna get any better layin' 'ere depressed and lonely on top of not eatin'. If I gotta curl up with you to get your spirits up, so be it."
Scout smiled at that, his free hand coming down to pet through Sniper's hair. "Thanks, Mick."
"'s nothin," Sniper mumbled in reply, snuggling in against his lover. "Can I get one of those potstickers, though?"
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frostbite-the-bat · 9 months ago
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hi pls read i have a thing to ask if you're a ttcc player dont ignore bc guzma long text ok please i beg ok heart emote. the more important part ill color ok ?
hmmmm SO since im actually considering writing a thing on clash lore, mostly the past atticus stuff, comics, thomas dialogue/saggs cyger drama!! the direction it seems to be going...? clash staff's confusing or non-existant explanations or communications on their directions with it aside from "we are rewriting tasklines" (that are public, fuck one off discord messages. idk if theres any but i just wanna say this outright) and just how pointlessly hype based it is. they underdelivered this time and man! disappoint!
so, my question is, if you're still reading this post, i will rephrase shorter if nobody does -
but does anyone have any thoughts on clash lore and any of this? mind telling me about it?
there's probably still details i am missing especially oclo stuff as i haven't done that fight yet, and i only became an active player after 1.3, but i'm still allowed to be interested and have opinions, even if this lore is... hard to dig for. so if i ever discuss anything and may be missing a piece please do let me know. but that doesn't matter what i want right now are opinions.
i have spoken to my friends about this endlessly but i worry i may be in an echo chamber - and i know this isn't my toon blog but i feel better asking about it here, more casually. just for opinions.
because from what i've seen a lot of it isn't... exactly positive. but i explode if i venture into the wider fandom space myself and i won't do it for the sake of my own mental health.
love the game to bits, my passion for it is why i care so much - but i feel like some of the recent directions... could be discussed...? i don't know, i just want to make / write a thing discussing all my issues in a less rambly way. it'll still be a long ramble, but hopefully a slightly smarter sounding ramble.
i wish i could compare this to anything in the past updates, but i really can't as i haven't been playing. i logged once in 2019 then never again until early 2023. so like. i have nothing to point to from personal experience aside from being told that the time between the lawbot updates and lbhq got backlash, too.
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realmackross · 1 year ago
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PARTIES: @corpse-a-diem, @realmackross TIMING: Early October SUMMARY: Mackenzie decides to take another step forward in trying to process everything that's happened to her since becoming a zombie and meets with Erin to discuss and plan her own funeral. WARNINGS: Parental death tw, Grief tw, Terminal Illness tw (Mack reference's being sick to hide being a zombie). This thread deals heavily with grief, mortality, and planning a funeral.
Erin was only an hour into her mound of paperwork when she felt her back aching. She stretched, groaned and fought the urge to get up and do absolutely anything else but this. 
“Take a break. Trust me. Your back’ll thank you in twenty years.”
Her father stood against the closed door frame of the office. His once. Her’s now. She hadn’t redecorated yet, and apart from a few photos and knick knacks, it was almost exactly the same as it had been for decades. Instinctually, her fingers clasped tighter around the pen in her hand at the sound of his voice. Her eyes finally rose to meet his after the initial startle wore off. “God, dad. What did I say about sneaking up on me?” It was hard to stay mad too long, even if she had more than enough reasons to and even if his presence still set her teeth on edge. But she didn’t know long he could stick around or if he’d even come back again. Death wasn’t as permanent as she thought but she was wholly aware of how little she did know when it came to this. He only tossed a warm smile her way, glancing back at the closed door knowingly at the sound of heels clicking along hardwood flooring. He’d heard those steps and those clicks a thousand times. “I know, I know…”
He started, petering off as a knock on the door followed. Her mother let herself in almost immediately. Erin was beyond trying to break her of that habit at this point. “Sorry to interrupt–” she smiled only slightly apologetically, stepping right past her husband. “There’s a young woman at the front desk who’d like to speak to you about arranging her funeral?” Erin watched the way her father’s eyes followed her mother, a small pang piercing her chest before she nodded and met her mother’s eyes. She stood up from her desk. “Right. On my way.”
“With my good deed done for the day, I’ll leave you to it then,” her father nodded and was gone in the blink of an eye. Erin stared at the empty space for another moment before putting her professional cap back on, and followed her mother out to the lobby as she filled Erin in on their potential new client. She was young. “Mackenzie Ross?” Erin greeted her with a soft smile, holding out her hand. “Erin Nichols. How can I help you?”
Mackenzie wasn’t really sure what she was doing as she entered Nichols’ Funeral Home. When she had researched websites for Wicked’s Rest funeral homes a while back, it had been on a whim. The notion of planning a funeral she never got to have seemed absurd, but after everything that had happened recently, she wasn’t so sure it actually was. Maybe, hopefully, it would be more cathartic. The idea of getting to go out the way she wanted. The music, the clothes, the words spoken about her. It might help her to better accept just what it meant to be a zombie. And maybe, just maybe, she could eventually tell her parents the truth. But first, she had to bite the bullet and plan the damn thing.
There had been a nervous quality about her voice when she had spoken to an older woman, who was off getting the Funeral Director. If ever there had been a lack of confidence, it was now. And as she waited, Mackenzie couldn’t help, but wander around the lobby letting her eyes scan over everything as she took in the somber atmosphere. There was just something about being in funeral homes that had been humbling. It made you question mortality and life itself. An eye opening experience, even to a member of the undead, that life would eventually cease to exist.
The two voices that carried down the hall snapped Mackenzie back into focus, and as she made her way back over to the desk the older woman had first been at, she couldn’t help, but nod at an older man who seemed to pass by her quietly. Hearing her name, she turned her attention to meet the funeral director, whose hand was stuck out to greet her, “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Nichols. Um, I, uh, I just…” Keep it together, Mackenzie. “I’m here to plan my own funeral, and I was wondering if you could help me set that up…” She reached out and let her own icey, dead hand meet Erin’s with a firm shake, before pulling it back anxiously.
Mackenzie’s words struck Erin slightly. She was no stranger to preparing funerals for young people, even children in the worst of circumstances, but this was a first. Preparing the funeral with the younger person in question? Different, for sure. Her brows furrowed briefly before Erin had a mind to reign back in her initial response. “Of course. That’s what I do,” she smiled curtly. She caught her mother’s eyes briefly, the concern hard to hide in the older woman’s gaze. Erin’s hands dug into the pockets of her suit jacket and she nodded at Mackenzie. “Why don’t you follow me?” She turned, walking down the hall slightly to a more disclosed location. The traffic wasn’t high volume at the funeral home but privacy in matters like this was key. She brought her into another room, displays of caskets and urns lining the walls and tables, with a few booklets laid out on a table surrounded by couches. Erin moved to sit in the single arm chair, gesturing for Mackenzie to take a seat across from her. “I have to ask, or just say rather–you’re probably one of the youngest people I’ve met who actively seeked something like this out from me.”
Mackenzie knew this had been an odd request. But surely she hadn’t been the first. Of course, the glance she noticed Erin share with the older woman made her start to believe otherwise. Maybe this had been a mistake. Would this be too revealing? Would it out her as being already dead? And how was this going to make Mackenzie feel in general? No, no. She was an actress. She could do this. She could put on a show as being fully alive and just being overly…prepared.
With the woman’s request, Mackenzie followed her back into the room. But upon stepping inside and seeing the caskets and urns on display, she started to regret coming. It was too late though. She was already here. The fear of it all made no sense to her, considering she had died two years ago, but maybe it was how finite being buried or cremated was. The final death. No return even for the undead, right? She still wasn’t quite sure about that one, but maybe if she could plan this out, it would help her to further accept where she was at and be a little more appreciative that she was oddly getting another chance at…life?
“Really?” Her suspicion was confirmed. Mackenzie took a seat. “I guess I just wanted to make this as easy as possible for my family and friends, you know? Have everything picked out and ready…” If she did have an expiration date would her family even be there? Her parents? Cousins and aunts and uncles? Friends…Winter… “I’m sorry, I feel like I should apologize for some reason. I know this isn’t normal…” She let her eyes fall.
Erin’s eyes were trained on Mackenzie, watching her reactions and expressions. It was somewhat a habit, as she was keen on trying to figure out a clients’ state of mind the best she could and be open to whatever they were going through, but with this case she’d be lying if it wasn’t partially due to curiosity. Was the young woman sick? Was this something she expected to happen soon? And if so, why was she alone with all of this? Erin’s perception of death was vastly different than most but even she could recognize doing this on your own, at her age, was enough to be on alert about. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is something a lot of people think about. It’s extremely natural and I promise this is a safe space for any questions you might have about the process.” Her smile softened and she nodded, keeping the pad and paper on the desk at bay for now. 
“We can hop right into it if you want? Or if you want to take a moment, look through some of the books I have, feel free to do that too. I don’t have any other appointments for the rest of the afternoon. Take your time.”
Mackenzie hadn’t even taken into consideration how any of this might have looked to Erin. To anybody really. A 25 year old planning her own funeral? Was it insinuating something else in Erin’s eyes? The realization soon hit her like a ton of bricks, “I should probably explain. This isn’t…I’m…I’m sick.” Technically she was. Whatever this was keeping her among the living had to be a virus. People didn’t just come back for no reason at all. But also in realizing her choice of words, she also had assumed that maybe Erin thought something completely different. Like Mackenzie no longer wanted to be around.
“I’m really making this worse. I came here thinking this might help. But I don’t know.” Mack was starting to panic. Keeping her cool was becoming somewhat impossible, and without thinking, she got back up and walked towards the door, “Where’s your restroom? I just need a moment, if that’s okay?” She wanted to do this. To follow through with planning this, but facing her own actual death that had never fully been dealt with. Between the cravings and keeping up appearances, soon followed by losing Brody and everyone she ever knew, to the new life she was trying to live in Wicked’s Rest, was proving to be a lot more than she was realizing she could handle.
— 
Erin’s fears were confirmed with Mackenzie’s confession. The poor girl, she thought immediately, and shook her head. Sure, Erin had had her own funeral planned since she was a teenager, but it was nowhere near the same kind of situation. “I’m so sorry, Mackenzie. We absolutely don’t have to do this if it’s too much. Please know that.” She tried to comfort her the best she could. This was going to be a hard one. Erin stood, pointing towards the hallway to where the restrooms were located. “Take your time, okay? I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re going through but I’ve done enough of these to know that this is a lot. It’s hard. But if it’s important to you, and you really want to finish… I’m here to help you, okay?”
Mackenzie was on the verge of tears that she probably wouldn’t even be able to cry, “T-Thank you.” With a sad smile and nod of her head, she immediately left the room, her smile fading away as the restroom couldn’t come fast enough and the solace it would bring to just be alone.
It had been an odd sensation actively watching your body breakdown at 25 years old. And could she really claim to be 25? Mackenzie had died when she was just 23, but here she was two years later surviving off of the misfortune of others, all while feeling like she was old before her time. It had hurt with each passing day when one of her senses would fail her a little more. Her sight. Her hearing. Her touch. Taste and smell had been long gone, aside from the occasional wisp of a scent or burn from something spicy or hot. And the worst feeling of all was knowing that even though she was technically still walking and talking, she couldn’t live a full life anymore. No family. No one to carry on her legacy. Just her and the fear that if she ever did fall in love with someone else, there was a strong chance she would devour them just like she did Brody.
Now standing in front of the sink, Mackenzie turned on what she assumed to be cold water and splashed it on her face a couple of times, before looking back in the mirror at herself. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and no matter how much makeup she put on, the dark circles under her eyes remained, leaving her feeling worse about herself, “Come on, Mackenzie. Just get it over with. Stop wasting this woman’s time. Pick something out and then leave.”
With a deep, reassuring breath for her own self-needs, Mackenzie dried her face off and made her way back out to Erin, “Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s do this. Maybe we can look around first, and then if all else fails, try the books?” Picking something out that was already available was probably going to be better than the anticipation of having to order her own casket and wait for it to come in from halfway across the world.
It was quiet after Mackenzie disappeared into the bathroom. It wasn’t the first time someone had to excuse themselves for a moment. The amount of moments of reflection and reprieve that bathroom must have seen over the years was insurmountable. Completely warranted. She’d had a few of her own, if she was being completely honest. And this young woman deserved more than a few for what Erin could only imagine she was going through. She waited patiently until she re-emerged, standing up in her presence. “I’m gonna let you know right now.  You don’t have to apologize for absolutely anything, okay? Grief is weird and hard and there’s absolutely no correct way to do it.” 
Erin smiled as comfortingly as possible but picked up on her cue that Mackenzie was looking to jump right into it. She moved towards the wall of casket sample displays filling up the wall to their left. “It’s helpful for some people to start with what feels like the most obvious part, and for a lot of people, the hardest.” She paused, surveying the other woman’s reactions carefully. “Does that sound like a good place to start for you?”
-
The young zombie knew she had come to the right place. Erin had been comforting and kind the entire time, and though Mackenzie wasn’t making it easy, she had greatly appreciated the woman’s kindness, “Thank you.” It was true. She had experienced grief when she had still been alive, and she was still feeling it now, even in death. The final sleep. It was supposed to be a final stop and a resting place, but Mackenzie had never gotten it, and even just two years into this new life, she was tired.
Following Erin to the wall of caskets, Mackenzie began looking them over, “That makes sense.” She glanced away from the funeral director and to the available options, “It’s as good a place as any…” Letting her eyes carefully start looking them over, she hesitantly reached out to touch one of them. It was weird. She had remembered going with her parents and looking at something similar when her grandma had died. Death felt different then. She was a child, and she was still trying to process what the word even meant, let alone the feelings that came with it. But here she was as an adult now trying to figure all of this out on her own, “Do you have anything in black?” She looked back at Erin. “That’s probably a weird question.” Mackenzie had always imagined a black casket for herself, but that was usually as far as the thought went considering she was still young and had felt like she had a long life ahead of her. Damn, had she been wrong about that.
Erin watched quietly, monitoring the range of Mackenzie’s emotions. It had become a skill over the years. Innate compassion coupled with learned people skills. It wasn’t the most natural thing to come to her–the feelings were genuine but her father had taught her to make it seem effortless. Because it was with him. There wasn’t anyone who passed through this home that didn’t feel that sincerity from the man. He had annoyingly big shoes to fill. She crossed her arms over her chest, raising a brow enthusiastically at Mackenzie’s question. “We do, actually. We can order anything you’d like. Any color, model, size. Whatever you want,” she assured her. Pausing briefly, glancing from the caskets to the younger woman with a sadness she was trying to hide in her eyes. “Did you have any idea of what you wanted? A traditional funeral? Or something more custom to your liking and personality?” She gave a gentle shrug, a small but smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. “You wouldn’t believe how creative some people get with these things. And–they don’t always have to be this, you know, incredible somber event. They can, if that’s what you want. But a lot of people like to make them… parties. Celebrations of life. It can help those you’ve left behind. Like a ‘bon voyage’ instead of ‘goodbye forever’.” Erin straightened, trying to keep her features friendly but serious at the same time. A delicate line. “Just something to keep in mind, you know?”
A bon voyage. If Erin had only known how accurate that actually was considering the funeral director was standing next to Mackenzie; an actual walking and talking real life zombie. But the idea did sound better than something depressing. She had always been very outgoing in life. Mack had loved people and celebrating and just having a good time all around. And she had felt that, for the most part, up until she had solidified what she was by killing Brody, “I would like that. That’s basically what my life was up until recently.” So maybe this was coming together better than she had anticipated. A black casket, but a celebration of a life she had once lived. But did she deserve a celebration was the real question. She had no longer considered herself a good person, and that might have been a problem in how she saw planning all of this out.
“Do you have any books on that or can you tell me what’s offered in a celebration of life?” Mackenzie continued to look over the other casket options, but at least had her mind made up on that. Well the exterior anyways. She knew, just like anything else in the world, caskets could be personalized. “And can you tell me about customizing caskets?” She let her eyes shift back to Erin. Might as well ask all her questions right? There was no backing down now.
Erin perked up a little, glad that they were finding a place to start with. It was always the biggest hurdle. “Well, there’s not really an exact How-To on these kinds of things. I’ve seen a lot of people treat it almost like a birthday party, in a way–” she smiled, holding her hands up like she was bracing for pushback. “I know, that sounds weird, but it’s actually really nice. It’s planned more like a party than a funeral. People make playlists of your favorite songs, and share their favorite memories of their loved one with everyone. There’s even games and activities sometimes. They’re never really the same. It all depends on the person.” She moved towards a binder that had a collection of ideas and events she had done in the past on a table, handing it off to Mackenzie to take a look. “There’s some ideas but honestly? Pinterest is where it’s at if you want some ideas for that. People get extremely creative.” She nodded. “We can do or get anything done as far as customization goes. Your budget is your only limit.”
Her smile faded a little as her gaze fell to Mackenzie again, her voice soft as as she asked. “Do you mind if I ask…” she shifted slightly, uncomfortably, knowing that the rest of her question would be hard. “How much time do we have?”
Mackenzie usually had party planners to help with this sort of thing. If it was really going to be a celebration. And Pinterest to plan a funeral? It was definitely a new idea, even for her, but she did love making a good Pinterest board. Mackenzie’s Bon Voyage Into the Afterlife! Mackenzie’s Last Dance. Dead, But Still Hot: A Soiree. She was kind of digging that last one, especially if she could make it…haunted? A haunted, old fashioned parlor funeral? It could be entertaining right? People in their early 1900s garb. Candle light. The decor. Maybe it was because Halloween was rounding the corner. Or maybe it was because she never got to act in that period piece she wanted, but here she was, “Have you ever had anybody go…back in time? Like the late 1800s or early 1900s? I only ask, because I never got to act in a period piece like I wanted to…”
Mackenzie was curious to know Erin’s response, until she watched the woman’s smile fade and then that question was asked. We’ve got all the time in the world, Lady. I’m already dead. “Um…” What did she say? She didn’t want to lie to the woman, but she couldn’t exactly admit she was a zombie. Like that would go over well in a funeral home. “A couple of months…” That sounded okay, right?
Erin’s head tilted curiously at Mackenzie’s question. “Back in time?” That was a first, she had to admit, until there was more clarification. “Oh, yeah, that’d be cool. If that’s your vibe, I say go for it. You’re an actress?” She asked, feeling slightly more validated that there was something familiar about the young woman but she still couldn’t put her finger on where she’d seen her. She wasn’t known for her pop culture knowledge. Van roasted her consistently for it. 
A couple of months? Damn. This poor kid. Erin nodded, trying to read the grief in Mackenzie’s features. It was different for everyone but she was having a hard time reading whatever journey she was going on internally. She wouldn’t prod much more but touched the other woman’s arm briefly but gently. “Listen–I know you just met me and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I know it’s hard. So whatever you need before then, if I can do it, you’ve got it, okay? Just say the word. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Yeah. I’ve done some things. Why not go out doing what I’m known for? Putting on a show.” Her smile was full of mixed emotions. Sadness, regret, sarcasm. Mackenzie’s moods had run the gambit since she had first made her presence known in Wicked’s Rest, but sometimes things just called for a range of emotions. “I think that’s what I’d like to do then. Let everybody be a part of the final performance, since they were all starring with me in my everyday life.” She knew if word got out though, there would be fans there, and she definitely didn’t want it to be a spectacle. She still wasn’t sure she was going to invite her mom and dad, let alone anyone else from her life in Hollywood, besides Winter, if she still wanted to be in Mack’s life. “But my one request is that we please keep this private. I don’t want a lot of people showing up, especially ones I didn’t know. And no announcements. I just want this small and personal.” Maybe she could do the inviting. It would be weird, but at least she could control who came - hopefully.
Erin’s words were soft and kind. Something that Mackenzie had greatly appreciated. It had been hard going through all of this without her parents at her side, and in some strange way, that’s what it felt like right now. That she had her mom by her side. Or at least an older sister or aunt. “Thank you. And thank you for helping me. I didn’t think I would ever be doing this alone, but here we are.” She felt horrible, because she knew - well figured at least - that she would still be walking around in two months time. She’d find a way to break the news to the funeral director somehow. Maybe the day of or… “Have you ever had anyone attend their own funeral? Like alive. Still…alive…”
Erin nodded astutely. “Of course. Complete privacy. That won’t be a problem on our end.” Though she did know she was going to have to ask Van later about who Mackenzie Ross was, she was sure she’d keep her secret. They joked and teased but Van could be serious when she absolutely needed her to. 
Her heart ached to hear that. Planning your funeral all by yourself, so young at that? This truly was a first. Her brows furrowed at the question. “I have, actually. It’s probably more common than you think. But some people want to have their celebration of life with the people they’re celebrating with. Which isn’t the most far fetched idea. Most people aren’t around to hear the wonderful things people say about them at funerals. It gives them a chance to say good bye and send off knowing they’re loved. They’ll be missed. But there’s… closure. As much closure as you can hope for, anyway.”
“Thank you. I definitely think I came to the right place. I don’t want this to be a spectacle you know? My whole life has been in the spotlight, and I just want some privacy and to feel normal for a little while.” Mackenzie walked back over to the chair and sat down with the binder that had been handed to her, so she could begin to look through it. She loved the Victorian soiree idea, but she at least wanted to give the lookbook of death some thought.
“Really? I kind of think that’s what I’d like to do. Be present. Just so I can hear everything, see my friends and maybe family again. Celebrate the good things that have happened and the people who got me through life you know?” And are still getting me through death. Mackenzie flipped through the book slowly seeing all the different ideas. People were so creative and thoughtful in the things they did for their loved ones. Mack had almost wished someone had come with her, but this was more of a her thing and trying to accept the fact that she was legit dead and would forever be that way until a hunter chopped off her head or worse. 
Erin had absolutely no concept of that–unbridled lack of privacy. She’d had the exact opposite of that her entire life. It was just easier that way. The less prying eyes locked on her ongoing mental crises the better. “This is yours and yours alone. You’ve got it,” Erin nodded. “We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about that part at all.”
Moving back to the loungers in the room, Erin motioned for Mackenzie to follow her. This was going to be emotional and hard and thankfully, Mackenzie had someone who could cut right through that to get the job done. That was what Erin did. That’s what she was good at. She sent Mackenzie a warm smile and pulled out a pen and pad of paper, already jotting some notes down. “Alright, Mackenzie. If we’re going to send you off, let’s do it right. What do you say?”
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high-caliber-bitch · 2 years ago
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Self diagnosis really needs to stop being demonized. People get angry about how some people are self diagnosing based on TikTok, but seriously, how many of us self diagnosed or started down the path of diagnosis because of Tumblr?
So many people posting relatable content about what their life was like with autism or ADHD and their personal fixes for it. So many of us going, wow same, we're not so different, this must be a universal thing. Until you interact with people outside your little internet bubble and go "oh shit" it's not everyone, maybe I actually do have ADHD or ASD?
I'd been saving posts about ADHD and ASD for years like "yah same gurl" without it clicking that I shouldn't find nearly every post about these ND issues relatable if I'm NT. Turns out I'm not. I still didn't come to the conclusion myself. My psych major husband, who's almost every flavor of ND was the one who suggested I may have ADHD or ASD or BOTH.
So when we get mad at people who are like "damn this content about this disorder is relatable" even if they don't have said disorder, it's just harmful all around. Humans crave connection with others and sometimes we'll behave in extreme ways it make some leaps to get there. But also, it's really telling about the breakdown of society when more and more people are experiences what are typically seen as symptoms of mental illness.
There's been a spike in anxiety and depression, and a lot of people with ADHD and ASD have one or both as comorbidities. So when someone sees a post where either a diagnosed or self diagnosed person is listing some of their symptoms and someone finds that relatable. Even if that person may come to the wrong conclusion, nothing truly bad has happened. And hopefully, that person will see at least a therapist and have whatever "symptoms" they're experiencing taken care of.
ND people are better at recognizing and diagnosing ND disorders in our own. My husband has personally gotten at least three people to seek mental health help by recognizing symptoms in them that they failed to see themselves. Two major depressive disorders and one ADHD. So it makes sense that within certain communities we diagnose each other before some of us can get formal diagnosis.
That communal diagnosis is also important, because a lot of resources are simply non-existent for adults. If you Google nearly anything about ASD most of the search results are heated towards parents of autistic children and children with autism. Nothing on teenagers or adults. You can hardly find any resources on specific symptoms, only really the ones that overlap with ADHD usually and even then it's always clinical and impersonal and not humanistic.
You can find all sorts of personal blogs on how people have dealt with their depression, how they understand and that it's hard, but this approach worked for them, so maybe it'll work for you. No one ever questions these sorts of things. No one ever questions depression or anxiety. But once you get into ADHD or ASD or even personality disorders, people question everything you say. Saying you have to be an expert.
Like, I'm sorry but if someone with or without ADHD finds my way of doing something helpful, I don't care what their diagnosis is. In a world full of people who can't get diagnosed, who get misdiagnosed, or get late diagnosis, sharing our stories is important. This fight we have to be heard is the same as the fight for pedestrian and green spaces in cities. It's a bunch of new young people with mental health in mind against decades of mistakes and misinformation.
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tyromonium · 6 months ago
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Hey there
Im still struggling with thoughts of you, not because I miss you, hell no. I recently discovered I have proper PTSD from our relationship. The way you manipulated me, gaslit me, never allowed me to share my feelings and then got angry with me because I never shared them. But the thing that has impacted me the most is how you never wanted to hear "no" which lead to situations where when we'd meet for the first time, you made me feel terrible about not being sure about having sex already. So I just went along with it to avoid you getting angry or sad.The same when I was in Brighton with you, terribly ill and felt horrible, I told you I was really tired and didn't have energy, you continued. If I would say that I am a sexual assault victim, would you even think it would be because of you? I spent most of my life not feeling connected to people and feeling so incredibly lonely. Then you changed that, you were the one person I really felt connected to. Yet it was always me being there for you, never once, did you really WANT to be there for me. Fucking hell, when my mom got cancer, somehow I had to console you??? There was never any space for me or my problems. You either got angry with me for sharing them, you started crying because you would blame yourself or you'd just say it was bad timing. Never did it feel safe for me to share my problems. So I started hiding them, at first for you, but eventually for myself too. This al got hidden along with my feelings. So when I say that the day before I broke up with you, I didn't know that 24h later, I would. Thatd be true. It was only until the realization that "Oh shit, I do not want to feel this trapped and claustrophobic for the upcoming week with this person." So I broke up the following morning and wanted you gone. The feelings I hid, finally surfaced. And it was the feeling of being trapped for months. So emotionally trapped. A few months after we broke up we got into contact again, I thought I missed you, looking back, that's not really true. I missed feeling loved, and mostly, I missed feeling connection. But god knows, I did not miss you, or your selfish ways. Never once, wanting to think about my problems. Which showed beautifully when we started talking again and I said I wasnt doing well, at all. And your response? "Your problems are too exhausting for ME, so we need distance, lets talk once a month."Never heard from you since, not at the end of the month, not during the summer holiday when I got put into a mental institution because I was too much of a danger to myself, not when I got put onto meds again, not when I did half my school year because everything became too exhausting, not when I started a bunch of different therapies again, not when I needed someone the most. You abandoned me. The moment I stopped having room to try and "solve" your problems, as you always so angrily said, you dissapeared. You always said you were there for me, thats fucking bullshit, but I sometimes fear that you really believe it. That you're this lovely caring person who doesnt manipulate the people around them, and who is never able to be held accountable for their actions. Yes, you had a rough life, and there were a lot of things you'd not have been able to change, but fucking hell, learn how to handle yourself, as you just make everyone around you responsible for you and your problems, except yourself. Stop blaming your past for how you act. You're always accountable for your own behavior, stop playing the victim and grow up.
You abused me. You raped me. You left me for dead. I hope you realize that.
Tbh I just wanted to say this, maybe yelling it into the void, but I guess the chance that you can see this and hopefully change for the better and to prevent you not listening to "no" with more people. Do not see this as an excuse to reach out, I want nothing to do with you. Ever.
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themomsandthecity · 11 months ago
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Is It Actually Healthy to Let Babies Nap Outside in the Winter?
I have to be honest: I want to be a Danish baby sleeping outside in the cold. TikTok keeps showing me videos of infants napping in strollers parked in outdoor courtyards or along sidewalks of downtown Copenhagen while Mom meets a friend inside at a cafe. Judging from the millions of views, I'm not the only one who can't get enough. As Americans, the practice seems shocking, but also kind of . . . lovely. I mean, who wouldn't want to take a snooze while bundled up all cozy in the crisp winter air? Yet the trend has people asking, do Danes really do this? And is it actually healthy - or safe? I hopped on a call with Iben Sandahl, a family counselor in Copenhagen and coauthor of "The Danish Way of Parenting," to find out if these videos are legit. "Yeah, it's a tradition," she tells me. "I slept outside when I was a child. My children have slept outside as well." It's common practice throughout Nordic countries and goes back to the philosophy of "friluftsliv," aka a commitment to enjoying fresh air no matter the forecast. "We have the saying in Denmark that there's no bad weather, there's only bad clothing," Sandhal says. According to Sandahl, parents typically start to let their newborns doze alfresco once they regain their birth weight, which should take a couple of weeks. Then, for as long as a child continues to nap, they'll usually have at least one a day outside. If it's raining or snowing, parents use strollers' weatherproof canopies or covers to keep the baby dry. Mostly, Sandahl says, people just use "common sense" and keep the child inside if it's dangerously windy out or if the temperature's super extreme - though some parents report their cutoff being as low as 5 degrees Fahrenheit. (Hopefully it goes without saying: if you're interested in trying this with your own little one, talk to your pediatrician first.) Utah-based pediatrician Jonathan Williams, MD, who may be better known as the "TikTok Kid Doc" to his 573K followers, lived in Finland for a couple of years and tells me he used to see this even in the dead of winter. "I thought it was nuts," he admits. "I wasn't used to the cold yet, so I was freezing, and then there's this baby totally asleep in a stroller on a front porch. But culturally, it wasn't weird at all." It's not just that Nordic people don't flinch at the idea of cold air - they actively embrace it as a way to develop immunity. "When we wake them up from a nap, we really like our children to have these red cheeks," Sandahl says. That rosiness is seen as a sign the kiddos have been basking in a clean, healthy climate. This nearly religious belief is so ingrained that daycares will leave a whole line of strollers out in the cold for naptime. Scientific studies on that improved immunity, however, have shown very mixed results. "Some are like, absolutely not, and some think maybe," Dr. Williams says of the theory that cold outdoor air can help protect little ones from illnesses like colds. He hypothesizes that any immune benefit would likely come from spending less time in crowded indoor spaces at daycare or at that cafe with Mom. "If my kid is outside instead of inside where everyone is coughing, maybe they're kept safe from some of that," he says. However, there is evidence to suggest that children sleep better outside: A Finnish study from 2008 found that some children napped for 30 to 60 minutes longer outdoors than they did indoors. Sixty-six percent of parents reported that their kids were more active, and 54 percent said they ate more after outdoor naps. Somewhat astonishingly, researchers found that the ideal outdoor temperature for restorative sleep was just 21 degrees Fahrenheit. (Of course, this assumes the child is dressed in multiple layers and a sleeping bag.) "If a parent comes to me and is like, 'How do I improve my kid's sleep?,' one of the things you might deal with is sleep temperature," Dr. Williams says. "We know that you get deeper sleep in cooler… https://www.popsugar.com/family/babies-sleeping-outside-health-49336484?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr
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cookinguptales · 2 years ago
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If you’re still doing readings I would love one. I’m having a hard time right now with a lot of external stressors that are making me sad. Wondering about the path forward?
I'll be doing them all night. And once I inevitably fall asleep, I'll look at the ones that came in during my absence. The barn door doesn't shut until I wake up again. Don't worry, I'll post a notice when I'm done. I have to take breaks periodically because my eyes have started to act up a little, but I'm not finished yet.
All that said, I'm happy to do a reading and I'll be very glad if whatever I say helps you come up with your own path forward. But again, I can't give any real advice here; just say stuff that I hope you can find meaning in. 💜
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(Judgement, Justice, The Empress)
Old friends coming together in new ways, huh...
Well. I think you're probably right in that things are tough right now. Judgement and Justice together usually call to a rough time.
Judgement, as I mentioned before, really means that the stage is set, the curtains are drawn, and the main event is about to start. Shit, in other words, is about to get real. Everything is coming together now, and the decisions you make now will have long-ranging consequences. Either for good or for ill.
Judgement can also be a moment of spiritual awakening, though, too. Everything has come to a head, and in the middle of all that chaos is a moment of understanding. I hope that moment comes to you, friend, and when it does, I hope that you can accept it.
Justice is a card of truth and fairness. It means that things are coming to their logical conclusion and no one can hide behind lies, not anymore. In a way, I think this is the card that people think Judgement is. It says that the time has come for the truth to come forward, and everyone will be judged exactly as they have earned. If you're a good person (and I see no reason to assume you're not, anon) then your efforts will be recognized. If someone has hurt you, perhaps, if they are not held to task for their sins, you will at least be able to find the healing that you are due.
But if you have done something bad... well, I guess that Justice and Judgement are not a promising combination.
Let's just assume that you'll be on the good side of this, though, shall we?
Either way, your last card is The Empress, and I won't lie when I say I was relieved to see it. This is a comforting card to end on, especially in times of strife. This card is extremely nurturing and understanding and wise. It's an understanding that, for better or for worse, comes from experience, and it's a wisdom that allows her to rule a room. But she rules with grace and with abundance. This is sometimes read as a nod to motherhood, but it's more.. caring and strength, I think. You have the potential to create and the potential to nurture and hopefully someone will take the time to nurture you as well.
All is not lost, and The Empress rules with clear-eyed kindness. She carries bounty in her arms, and whether you'll create it or receive it, it will come eventually.
As for a path forward... I suppose, with The Empress where she is, my advice is to try and be clearheaded through all this. Hopefully understanding will come to you, and you'll be able to use that understanding to create a kind and nurturing space -- for others as well as yourself.
And -- on a more serious note, anon, if you ever need someone to talk to? I'm usually around. Regardless of what the cards say, you never need to suffer alone. 💜
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the-welsh-witch · 1 year ago
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Hi! Now, first off, I am so sorry that whatever is happening to you is this severe, no-one should have to go through that, and I hope things are at least going to be on the up for you. I would also like to preface that, while this information is coming from two Hereditary witches (witchcraft is in their family for generations), and myself (Baby Witch), I would recommend doing your own research if possible.
However, here is some of what we managed to come up with;
Rusty nails/ pins/ sharp shit
Photo/name of person
Urine/ lemon/ dirt/ chilli/ SOMETIMES cinnamon
Taglocks (Toenails, though I see you have hair, which is good)
Green Wax (for Loki)
Venomous words into said jar
Some people use Aubergines (Eggplants if you're American), to represent certain phallic objects, and cut them open, place the items inside, then pin/ nail/ sew with black cord the Aubergine back up.
Invoke your deities to add power to the spells, I'd say green things for Loki (Snakes, greens, golds, silvers), Pluto and Beelzebub I don't work with or know someone who does personally so you'd have to investigate for yourself. However Invocation adds a LOT to a spell (I regularly invoke Rhiannon and Hekate for my Tarot).
I've seen knives, fire, general violent methodology used as well, though this is more ritualistic practices.
Sigils, as well, if you have any 'ill wishes upon X person' sigils may help.
ENERGY WORK. As far as I know, Hexes require more upkeep than Jinxes, and less so than Curses, so if you are making a bottle, I would suggest bringing out the bottle once a day or few days, and either shaking it to inflict 'pain', or pouring energy, imagining it turning bad and aimed at the person, etc.
As well as this, PROTECT YOURSELF. Though the 'Things will return to you Thricefold' philosophy is a WICCAN practice, Hexes can possibly make things worse, etc. People don't always want to learn from mistakes and make things better, so just be careful, and I would suggest black salt/ salting your space if possible, Black Tourmaline, Black Obsidian, Amethyst, etc. Protection Charms, sigils, I personally do Protection Tealights, as well as having a deity and protection necklaces I wear constantly, and have warded and protected my home a LOT, though I live with my boyfriend and have the luxury to be able to do that, and Idk your situation.
Anyways, hopefully some of this helps, if you need any help, my DMs are always open!
Alright Tumblr, help a witch out
I need to hex a man.
I don't want to get too into detail about it, but this man has fucked up life for everyone in my family, most of all my mum, and is a liar, a bigamist and an all round piece of shit.
The problem is, I have never done a hex before. I have a few strands of hair I managed to swipe from his hairbrush but I don't know what to do. I also work with Pluto, Loki and Beelzebub, and while I haven't yet spoken to Loki and Beelzebub, Pluto has said that while he doesn't generally advise hexes he can see why I am willing to dish out the nastiest I can and has no objection to it.
Can someone please give me advice of what can go in a very nasty hex jar for this fucker? He's going DOWN! Hell hath no fury like a witch scorned.
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her-devils-advocate · 3 years ago
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Why don't you fix me? I can't help myself
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♥. Genre: angst and comfort
♥. pairings: Lucifer + Gn!Mc (can be read as platonic or romantic)
♥. content warnings: Descriptions of depression, self-harm and mentions of insecurities and paranoia.
♥. notes: Part 2 of "I'll be the mess, you be the medicine" as requested by @bread-samdwich // Title taken from the same song: "Fix me- Icon for Hire"
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♥. Word count: 2540
You awaken from an empty, dreamless sleep to find yourself pressed against the comfortable yet firm chest of the firstborn, still being held in the gentle embrace of both yourself and sleep. The soft silk of his pyjamas glides over you with each small movement as you take the time to softly trace the delicate, faint patterns upon the material.
You gaze up at his now soft expression as he sleeps, memories and guilt of the previous night rushing in to take captive of your heart. You were feeling a bit better after spending the night with another but now you were left with the suffocating shame for potentially ruining his night and making him worry over you. The pride of reaching out to someone for the first time is still present within your chest, but the familiar swirling of your ever present worry and panic comes home to play within your mind as you prepare yourself for what you now know needs to happen.
Slipping out from his arms as slowly as possible to not wake him, you quickly write a small text to the demon before you retreat to the icy comfort of your own room, not wanting him to become more worried once he realises has awoken alone.
“Mc [5:30]: Thank you for looking after me last night! I want to keep my promise about discussing it later but I need some space to gather my thoughts so that I can actually explain and hopefully not just ramble at you, which is still a possibility though...”
Your body and mind screams with each movement as you make your way back to your room, the lingering emotions from the previous night are still present, lurking amongst the dark shadows of the still sleeping house, waiting for the perfect moment to strike now that you are alone once more. You are still unsure as to why you left the comfort of Lucifer's room, the dying embers doing their best to chase your shadows away from within the fireplace, but the discomfort that slowly built its walls around you was getting heavier and heavier, no one had seen you break like that before, even if he hadn’t been audience to the worst of it.
But soon he would be to some degree, you had promised that you would let him know everything after all. Part of you regrets ever saying that, you had never let anyone hear about the shameful nights where you became your own worst enemy. Meanwhile a small part of you is relieved, maybe now you won’t need to fight this alone for much longer since rather than turning you away, he invited you into his arms and bed, willing to protect you from yourself. Proving to you that all your insecurities and fears were lies that the shadows whispered to you in order to make you submit to their long and painful nights, filled with nothing but tears and sobbed pleas which fell on deaf ears as you continued the downward spiral into your dark reliefs within the illness which had captured you. You really have had enough of those nights, longing to be able to embrace the darkness and solitude for the comfort found within the silence it brings, not the voice echoing within your mind, dragging you down. 
You had already taken the first step anyways, no matter how hard the approaching discussion might be, you would be as prepared as you could be. 
There was no backing away from this even if you wanted to, Lucifer would not let you when it came to an issue as serious as this, especially since you had implied that you would hurt yourself in those moments. Maybe that's why you went to him out of all the brothers, even if he was secretly your favourite out of the seven, he is also the sternest and would not hesitate to drag you into the talk if needed, which is what you did desperately need.
“Lucifer [6:30]: Take your time, just know that I will be expecting you after dinner. We can discuss sooner if needed but we are discussing it today, understood?”
“Lucifer [6:32]: You aren’t alone in this.”
Glancing at the final message, you felt the familiar warm ache come to linger within you, while being pushed away would hurt, being cared for hurt just as strongly during these moments. Your body actively fighting the kindness shown to you, reflecting it every way possible until it leaves you alone to pick up the broken pieces left of you.
You have had enough
“Mc [6:35]: Actually…can we do this now? I don’t think I can wait much longer, not while it’s still a current issue”
With new yet shaky determination, you march to his study before waiting for his reply, desperately hoping that he was within the private confines of the room before the chilling and almost immobilising panic creeping around within you overpowered the desire to fight the approaching storm, which had only been briefly chased away for the night, still present and lurking in the depths of your mind. You would never last until dinner, the conversation had to happen sooner while it was fresh, before you could succumb back into the usual routine of hiding it and pretending it was fine.
Before even realising what was happening, you forcibly open the heavy door to the luxurious study, you sheepishly glance up at Lucifer, appearing to be mid text as surprise delicately paints his usually hard features before his mask can be put back into place.
“Um, sorry… I should have knocked, I wasn’t thinking. Is right now alright?” 
You feel your face getting hotter as you rapidly reflect on your rash behaviour before hanging your head low before him. You should have waited for a reply, he is an extremely busy man after all. He’s not always going to be there the moment you need him, especially for something as burdensome as your negative emotions. Misery loves company after all, maybe you were better alone all along…?
You are suddenly snapped out of your rapid stream of self depreciation and doubt by a slender finger, encased in rich leather, gliding across your chin to lift your head to meet his eyes.
“I did say that we could discuss it whenever you were ready, did I not?” 
His voice is a gentle whisper, helping to calm you from the growing discomfort painted all over your expression. Pulling his finger away from your chin, you watch with curious eyes as he makes his way towards the record player. Suddenly the room is overflowing with low symphonies which can often be found leaking beyond his closed door during the late hours, the soft melodies flowing around you, helping you to relax even more in the room.
Still standing next to the now closed door, wringing your hands while your eyes look everywhere besides the man before you, you regret not making that script beforehand like you had originally planned. You can feel his crimson gaze fall upon you, waiting for you to pour your heart out so that he can then help guide you with putting it back together.
With a quick glance at the demon now making himself comfortable upon the plush sofa, placed perfectly before the now crackling fireplace, dyeing the room in a peaceful amber, you give yourself the mental permission to let him in while swallowing the nerves tightly clinging to your throat, trying to silence you. 
“Ok…So sometimes I just get like that, you know? Um, I sometimes just think about how no one actually cares about me, even if it's completely wrong!”
With each additional word, you watch as Lucifer struggles to hold his composure, sadness trying to break onto his expression with each passing second. The panic within becoming stronger and harder to ignore the longer you watch the conflict flicker in his eyes.
“I know people do care about me of course, but it’s like a voice, my voice, is just screaming these lies at me relentlessly and they are just so hard to ignore most nights…so most nights, I don't ignore it. All my insecurities and paranoid thoughts come out to play and it hurts. I don’t want to keep doing this Lucifer. I’m tired and it hurts.” 
You try to hold back your sobs as your voice begins to waver but there are too many mixed feelings swirling around within you, making it impossible to hold back the tears now flowing down your face as you shuffle to the sofa and collapse within his now open arms. Snuggling your face against his chest, you shiver as his breath ghosts across your ear from his subtle sigh. Taking a small moment to collect yourself, you realise he had spoken, his low voice almost completely drowned by your cries.
“How do you usually handle these nights, Mc?”
You feel a fresh wave of tears build up as you press your face further into the soft fur lining his coat, letting the small tickle from the fabric ground you before pulling away, feeling his arms reluctantly release your retreating form.
You had already gotten this far, no one had ever reached out to support you or listen to what you suffered with until now, a foreign feeling begins to make itself known within the emotional turmoil which you were struggling to force back within the cold cage present in the back of your mind. It was uncomfortable to let someone see through all the cracks decorating the guarded walls you had placed around your heart. Never wanting people to peer through them and see the inky blackhole which pulled you down into its orbit most days, but Lucifer had already seen it, there was no escaping his patient gaze when you had a promise to keep.
“Well, remember how I mentioned that I didn't want to do anything I would regret?” You watch his head lower in a slow nod, trying to process the implications behind your words, not wanting his assumptions to be correct.
“Sometimes everything just gets too much, I often feel like I deserve to hurt so I take it out on my body with anything I can get my hands on, while other times the action simply helps calm me down. It makes me feel numb and like I can actually breathe again. I know it’s bad, you don’t need to tell me that much but it’s so hard to stop.”
You bury your face within your hands, not wanting him to see you quickly become as messy on the outside as you feel within, trying to banish the shame for daring to speak out against the illness that was doing its best to keep you prisoner inside your own mind. You anticipated the talk to be hard but you never prepared for your mind to work against you reaching for help.
The sound of shuffling from your right causes you to peer out from behind your fingers, your eyes meeting sorrow filled ones as Lucifer kneels down and positions himself before you.
“Thank you for trusting me, I can understand how hard this must be for you. Now, we can’t be having you hurt yourself so I urge you to come to either me or my brothers should you feel like doing it again. Please?”
Feeling too overwhelmed to continue speaking, not trusting yourself to be able to string together a coherent sentence in the moment, you slowly begin to nod your head. Happiness and hope begin to chase away the negatives as you comprehend his words, you really weren’t alone, you never were to begin with but especially not now.
“Mc… I know that I can’t fix this for you, even if I could, it's not up to me to fix it. You need to be the one to choose this path, but please let me and my brothers help to support you in this. Anything you need, we will make sure you have access to. I’m going to remove anything sharp from your room to avoid you from being able to cause more harm and having a professional to speak with would also be a good start. I'll talk to Lord Diavolo about getting you access to the Human world weekly if needed. Does that all sound good with you?”
Frozen with shock, you look at him in awe, he really was doing all that he could to help you, conjuring up simple options which never once occurred to you to seek out during such moments. You would feel embarrassed for not thinking of such things if it weren’t for the rushing wave of relief, overwhelming you, giving you hope that this horrible feeling of smothering darkness that has had you in its claws for too long would soon fade to white, even if it took a lifetime to fight.
Lifting your head, you softly gaze into Lucifer’s gentle eyes, a whirlwind of fear and concern hidden within the black and red gradient, reserved for you alone to be privy to. Releasing a tense breathe neither of you knew he had been holding, he lifts a still hand, the small shake which you noticed within the gesture goes unspoken as he brushes aside your hair, granting his eyes access to the entirety of your tear-stained face while he stalls for time as you digest his words.  
Your voice is nothing more than a broken whisper, tears and your previous onslaught of emotions currently blocking you from producing anything sturdier or louder.
“Would…Would you come with me? …To speak with someone?”
“Anywhere and anytime, my brothers would also join you without any hesitation, should you require it, Mc.”
For the umpteenth time, you feel the uncomfortable yet familiar tickle as your tears slide down your cheeks. But for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel sorrow. Instead the absence of your panic and pain had been replaced with the overwhelming and cloying feeling of adoration and joy. With a small giggle, you grab Lucifer’s hands and drag him onto the sofa before carefully crawling back into his arms. His small sound of shock and protest going purposefully ignored as you cling to him like your life depended on it.
“Thank you, for everything.”
His reply is nothing more than a tender kiss placed delicately upon your forehead before you try to snuggle deeper than physically possible into the fabric of his shirt. The adrenalin leaving your body paired with the smell of coffee still lingering on his body work together to lull you. The future no longer feeling like a burdensome chore, rapidly approaching with no remorse but instead feeling like you now have a chance, no matter how hard. Smiling into the black fabric which you have claimed as your new pillow for the day despite the still early hour, you know happiness isn’t confirmed but you now have the motivation to fight for it, even if it takes all you have to obtain it, you are ready.
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